Pleasure Beach

by P. J. Mellor

  She shrugged self-consciously. “Well, it’s just that your hands are so chapped. Obviously, you work with them a lot.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. I do work with my hands. Answer my question.”

  “I, uh, assumed you were a cowboy or farmer or something.”

  “Big assumption.”

  “Well, not really. You wear Western-style clothes and boots whenever we go out.”

  “A lot of Texans do that. They’re comfortable.” He reached into a drawer, just inside the pantry. “Here. Put this on.”

  “What?” She looked at the shimmery bit of ruffled pink cloth he’d tossed to her. “Why?”

  “Because,” he said in a hard, impersonal voice, “our agreement was strictly sex. No strings attached. Nothing personal. If you’re leaving right after dinner, I want you to wear this. Put it on. Now.”

  Hands shaking, she fought back tears as she tied the ultra-sheer apron around her nudity.

  “Turn around. I want to see your tits through the apron. Good” he said when she turned. “They’re hard and puckered. Tits don’t lie. You want me as much as I want you.”

  He walked to her, put his hands hard on her hips, and turned her away from him, leaning her over the table. “Relax, babe.” Tears stung her cheeks, but her traitorous body instantly became moist when he reached between her legs to stroke her folds. “Attagirl, your pussy’s nice and wet.” The warmth of his breath bathed her weeping sex while he licked her. The tip of his tongue speared her opening. Involuntarily, her legs opened for him.

  “Oh, babe, your cunt is so slick and wet for me.” His hot breath fanned her sensitive skin.

  “Please, Marc,” she whispered. She wanted him, especially since it would be their last time together. But not like this.

  “Please what? Please stop? Please fuck me? Please what?” He shoved his fingers deep within her. Appalled, she felt her body react, gushing her release over his hand.

  His penis drove into her. Harder, deeper, faster. All the while, his fingers pinched her nipple with pleasure/pain.

  At some point she became an active participant, bucking and rolling with him. He carried her to the couch and continued pounding in and out of her. At her cries of completion, he jerked her off his lap and laid her over the arm of the sofa to pound into her from behind again. His hands were relentless, stroking and slapping and pinching her to climax again and again.

  “I want to fuck you in the hot tub and out on the deck, where anyone passing by on the beach can see us.”

  Out of her mind with lust, she could only nod and growl deep in her throat, “Yes!”

  Hot water surged in and out of her with each thrust. It didn’t take long before her cries of completion filled the night air.

  Cool air bathed her heated skin. Marc placed a pad from a deck chair on the corner of the railing and plunked her on it, legs spread wide, one foot on each perpendicular rail. Without preamble, he plunged into her again.

  They both came at the same time, their cries startling the birds.

  Afterward Marc carried her to the bathroom and gently bathed her limp body, then carried her to their bed and stroked lotion onto every inch of her body. Each stroke was punctuated with feather-light kisses.

  She roused from her lethargy to return the massage and soon they were both panting.

  “Now,” Marc grunted in her ear as he tried to roll her to her back. “I need you now!”

  “Wait.” She reached beside the bed and brought up the can of whipped cream she’d stashed before going to the beach. “Lay back and enjoy.”

  Air fluttered the partially drawn curtains, adding to the sensation of aerosol whipped cream being liberally applied to his rapidly recovering erection.

  He’d been wild with anger and lust when this last episode began. He’d hated himself for what he was doing, but couldn’t seem to stop. Then, when she’d joined in, he’d really lost control.

  He’d never lost control of anything in his life. Had never felt the myriad of things he’d felt since meeting Kinsey.

  His eyes closed as Kinsey’s mouth approached his now rock-hard cock. Her tongue gently flicked some of the cream off before she opened wide to devour him whole.

  His last coherent thought was to breathe a sigh of heartfelt relief that she hadn’t run screaming into the night.

  Afterward he fashioned a bikini out of the remaining whipped cream and, amid giggles from Kinsey, proceeded to lick it off.

  Her gaze met his. She slowly took the can from his hand, spread her legs and emptied the rest of the whipped cream. “I really do have to go. Soon. But just one more time….”

  Marc turned over, murmuring in his sleep. Kinsey slipped from the sticky sheets and pulled the covers over his back.

  After a quick shower, she dressed and gathered up her things. When she brushed her lips across Marc’s, it sounded as though he whispered, “Don’t go,” but she couldn’t be sure.

  What had happened tonight? She closed the back door of the Volvo and got into the driver’s seat. She’d never enjoyed rough sex, but with Marc it had been unbearably exciting. She shrugged and started the engine. Maybe she’d experienced latent S and M tendencies. What if anyone would have been sufficient for a partner? What if it wasn’t love at all?

  The white lines of the highway streaked past as the car carried her farther away from Marc and the beach house she’d come to love.

  Love.

  Did she really love Marc? The impulsive side of her that had emerged since they met assured her it was love. But the practical side argued that it was too soon. Physical attraction can be a powerful aphrodisiac.

  She sighed. Maybe she’d never know the answer.

  10

  Mark rolled over and shielded his eyes against the morning sunshine. Kinsey was gone. He knew it before he’d opened his eyes.

  Of course she was gone. She had to work. Still, it left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Scenes from the night before flashed through his mind. Their sexual escapades had taken a turn he’d never expected. Had he been too rough?

  The encounter on the kitchen table was almost rape, but Kinsey seemed to get into the spirit of it soon enough. Still…

  He rolled over and retrieved his cell phone from the pocket of his shorts. Without thinking, he hit the number he’d programmed into the memory two weeks ago.

  “Hello?” Her sweet voice sounded breathless, a bit husky. She was probably on her way out the door to school. He pictured her delectable body primly clothed as a kindergarten teacher and wondered if anyone suspected she spent her weekends in the nude.

  “Hello?” she repeated, clearly annoyed. He really should say something.

  “I miss you,” he whispered, but she’d already hung up.

  He swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching to get the kinks out, then padded to the bathroom.

  The bathroom smelled of Kinsey’s perfume.

  He stopped. Simply drawing a breath was painful. What if he’d chased her away with his ardor? He’d tried to tell her how he felt, but she wouldn’t listen. Then, when she made the outlandish assumption that he was a cowboy…well, he’d lost it.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he reached into the shower stall to turn on the water. A slash of color drew his attention to the corner.

  Kinsey’s sexy little sundress lay wadded where he’d thrown it before their shower last weekend. He leaned down and picked it up, inhaling her familiar scent, aching with his loneliness.

  Something fell from the pocket and plunked on his bare toe.

  That’s when he saw it.

  A huge diamond blinked in the morning sunshine streaming in from the skylights. He bent to pick it up. An engagement ring.

  Doubled over with the physical pain of her obvious betrayal, he sank to the step and willed his heart to keep beating.

  A modicum of control allowed him to step beneath the stinging spray, the betrayal ring on his little finger, lest he should forget h
ow he’d been played for a fool.

  Cold needles of water slashed his face. Monica’s desertion was nothing in light of this. A mere hiccup before the major upheaval.

  And, damn! He hit the tiled wall with a fist, the ring spinning to dig into the side of his palm. Neither time had he seen it coming. What did he do, walk around with a sign on his back saying I’m so desperate for love that I can be had?

  No more.

  With jerking movements, he turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower. Not bothering with a towel, he left a damp path to the bed where he grabbed the cell phone and hit REDIAL.

  Seven, eight, nine rings. Then her voice, on tape. “Hi, you’ve reached us! We can’t come to the phone right now; you know the drill. And we’ll get back to you.”

  With a roar of frustration, he hurled the phone against the window. It bounced and landed on the carpet at his feet, mocking his anguish.

  Jack. He needed to talk to Jack.

  “Mrs. James? Is that your sister?” The tiny girl with a mass of red curls tugged at Karly’s jumper and pointed.

  “Yes, I’m her sister. Her younger sister.” Kinsey grinned down at the adorable little girl, then winked at Karly.

  “Three minutes doesn’t count, Kins.” Karly patted the little girl’s head and turned her toward the playground. “Go on and play with the others, Brandi. We only have”—she glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch—“about ten more minutes.”

  They watched Karly’s student skip away. Karly turned back to Kinsey. “Okay. What are you doing here? And don’t tell me you were in the neighborhood.”

  “Well, actually, I was in the neighborhood. My afternoon session was canceled. I stopped by to see Mom and Dad, but they weren’t home.” She sat at the picnic table across from her sister, who watched her intently. “I guess I needed to talk to someone.”

  “Thanks. Mom and Dad aren’t home, so I qualify as the next ‘someone’ on the list?”

  “Don’t be dumb. You know what I mean.” Her sister nodded, so Kinsey took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Things have gotten way out of control with Marc.”

  “Your studly cowboy?” Karly grinned and rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious, here. I think I might have accidentally fallen in love with him.”

  “‘Accidentally’? Kins, from what you’ve told me, you’ve been going at it like minks for the last three weeks. What did you expect?” She looked out over the playground and blew the red whistle that hung around her neck. “Bobby-Joe! We don’t throw sand!”

  “Sex isn’t love, Kar. You told me that years ago.”

  Karly shook her head, loosening a few tendrils of hair from her low ponytail. “No, it’s not. But when it’s all-consuming, like your time with Marc seems to have been, it’s easy to mistake lust for love.”

  They watched the antics of the children for a moment. “He almost told me he loved me this weekend,” Kinsey said. “I stopped him.” Before her sister could close her mouth and ask why, she told her. “I didn’t want to ruin what little time we have left. If we did something stupid like declare our love, it would complicate things.” She reached across to grab Karly’s forearm. “Don’t you see? It was my idea to have a fling, no names, no strings. I can’t go back on it. Not this late.”

  “Why ever not, if you love the guy?”

  Kinsey shrugged. “Like you said, in our situation it’s easy to mistake lust for love. I still haven’t told Zachary that I won’t marry him—”

  “What! Are you nuts? I thought you decided to tell him to take a hike!”

  Kinsey sighed. “I did. But he couldn’t make time to see me, then I had that day trip. Next thing I knew, it was time to go to the beach. And Marc.” The thought of being with Marc again caused tunnel vision where the rest of her life was concerned. How could she even contemplate expanding the relationship? It would throw a monkey wrench into her career plans. A career she’d worked hard to build.

  “Is it because he’s a cowboy?” her sister asked. “Do you think because he doesn’t have a degree that he’s beneath you somehow?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You know I’m not like that!” Was she? “It’s just that, well, I’m not like Mom. I’m not looking for someone to ‘take care’ of me.” She sighed, shoulders slumped. “But I don’t want to be the sole support of someone else, either. So…yeah, I guess it might have something to do with my decision.”

  “Your decision to do nothing?”

  Kinsey nodded. “It’s for the best. In fact, I’ve just about made up my mind not to go for this last weekend.” Scenes from the debauchery on the kitchen table filled her mind, catching her breath in her throat. If his actions had frightened her at first, her reactions had downright terrified her. “Things sort of took a turn for the worst last weekend. It’s best to just hold on to the memories and walk away.”

  “You know I’m here if you want to talk. About anything.” Karly stood and blew two short whistles. “Time to go in!” she yelled in her teacher voice.

  The sisters hugged. Kinsey stepped back. “Thanks. I’ll give you a call. We can talk all weekend.” Her eyes filled. “I won’t have anything else to do,” she said in a choked voice.

  “Oh, Kins.” Her sister gathered her close as the children stomped past. “I’m so sorry this didn’t work out for you.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a fling, remember?”

  “Yeah, but it was my stupid idea and now you’re hurting. Next time I make a suggestion, feel free to tell me to shut up, okay?”

  “Okay,” Kinsey said with a watery sniff.

  She watched her sister close the door to her classroom, and trudged slowly back to her car. The beach. She needed to be at the beach. Unfortunately, the beach she wanted to go to was occupied. But the beach that ran along Ocean Drive, back home in Corpus Christi, would do.

  Alone was alone, no matter where you were.

  “No doubt about it, you need this vacation.” Jack leaned over the table to peer intently, making Marc feel like a bug under a microscope. “My beach house is great. The ocean view is spectacular. What the hell are you doing in Corpus, telling me you’re ready to come back to work?”

  Marc shifted, imagining he felt the heinous diamond of the betrayal ring digging into his hip. “Did your friend come up with anything?” When Jack averted his gaze, Marc knew his worst-case scenario had come true. “Tell me.”

  “It’s sort of what you expected. Her name’s not Kinsey. It’s Karly. Karly James. And she really does teach kindergarten, at an elementary school not far from the beach house.”

  “I could live with her name not being Kinsey. But there’s more. Tell me.” He found his fist clenching and forced his hands to relax on the table.

  Jack met his gaze, sympathy clear in his eyes. “She’s married, dude. They have a four-year-old daughter.”

  Jack continued to talk, but Marc couldn’t make out the words through the roaring in his ears.

  “Marc?” Jack leaned across the table, gripping his arms. “Are you okay?”

  Talking was too much of an effort, so he nodded, flexing his left hand against the growing numbness.

  Jack’s gaze was fixed on something past Marc’s shoulder. “Wow. Check out what just walked in.” Jack chuckled. “As the saying goes, one door closes and another one opens. Talk about timing! This ought to confirm your belief that there’s more than one fish in the sea. And check out that rack! Her cleavage must have its own echo.”

  Not interested. Nonetheless, he turned, if for no other reason than to compare the recent patron with Kinsey and find her lacking.

  Kinsey.

  Her skin glowed, her tan golden. She was wearing the red dress he’d bought her, her generous curves dangerously close to spilling over the low-cut neckline. He and Jack weren’t the only ones who noticed her.

  Before he could react, a tall model-handsome man of about thirty walked up to her and gave her a distinctly unbrotherly kiss. She smiled up at the man, but not the
way she’d smiled at Marc. How could she be married to someone else and share the things, do the things, they’d done together?

  From a distance, he heard Jack’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. He saw no one but Kinsey. Karly. Had to remember her real name. Talk. They had to talk. He’d give her a chance to explain before he cut her out of his life.

  Before he could force his body to react to his commands, she walked out of the bar, a less than happy expression on her face, arm in arm with the man.

  Friday, he waited. And waited. When midnight came and Kinsey/Karly had not appeared, he turned out the lights. Attempts to sleep would be useless, so he sat on the deck and watched the tide.

  Then he watched the sunrise.

  He still sat there when it set. Numb.

  He’d always been a man of action. Why was he letting her get away with this?

  Unfolding stiff legs, he went into the house in search of his cell phone.

  “Jack? Give me her address. Yeah, I know what I said. Give it to me anyway.”

  11

  Marc stood outside her door, vibrating with the rage that had built as he drove to her home in the pleasant neighborhood. How dare she go back to her ordinary life after she’d ripped out his heart?

  The little girl had piled into a minivan with several other giggling girls about half an hour ago. Kinsey had to be in there. Alone.

  He rang the bell and waited. After a moment or two, he knocked. Then knocked again. Harder.

  From deep within the house, he heard her voice calling that she’d be right there and asking if he’d forgotten anything.

  Only to leave her before his heart had been involved.

  The door swung open. It was her.

  He’d hoped Jack’s detective had been wrong. But there she stood, wrapped in a bath sheet. Her shapely shoulders had already begun to lose some of the deep, golden tan she’d acquired when she’d been with him.