by Violet North
She didn’t know how long they danced, but it was at least three songs. The slow movement plus Donovan’s lead—letting her shut her mind off and simply follow—lulled Carly into deep relaxation. When he shifted her a tiny bit in his arms, she knew what he wanted and lifted her face toward his. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, and Carly thought the kiss lasted another few songs. It was as slow and sweet as the dancing had been, and she began to think they could stay in the moment together forever.
But Donovan finally moved on, slowly running his hands down to the top of her bikini bottoms and pushing them over her hips. She followed suit by tugging his swim shorts down and then unclipping the front of her bikini top and letting it fall to the floor. She felt an instant of insecurity standing naked in front of the French doors, but she quickly forgot it. Only the ocean could see them.
Without thinking, Carly suddenly dropped to her knees on the rug in front of the sofa and took Donovan into her mouth. He moaned. She only got to enjoy the experience for a few minutes before he pulled away, came down to all fours in front of her, and pushed forward until she was on her back and he was above her.
“I wanted to pay you back for this morning.” Carly grinned.
Donovan shook his head a little and reached down to grab the backs of both her thighs, pulling her knees up. “Uh-uh,” he said. “I want this.” He grabbed his own cock and used the tip to brush through her folds, causing her to shove her hips toward him, but he pulled back to keep from entering her. She realized he wanted to continue to tease her.
She felt a gush of wetness and closed her eyes, tipping her head back and giving herself over to him. She felt him pull away a bit, heard a tearing sound, and knew he was donning the condom. But he didn’t leave her hanging while he did—he replaced his tip with a thumb, deftly rubbing her, and then suddenly plunged a finger into her, removing it just as quickly. Before she knew it, his cock was back again, rubbing and teasing her until she felt like she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Please,” she panted.
The instant the word was out of Carly’s mouth, Donovan’s hand guided himself into her, and she rose to make sure he was completely inside. Her hand went around his waist and pulled him in even more. He stopped moving, holding still and tense. She squirmed, wanting—needing—him to thrust. She ground her clit into him and moved her hips in a circle, gasping at the resultant sensation and sending him hurtling into autopilot, plunging in and out of her. They kept perfect time, stroking again and again until she cried out, “Donovan! I can’t wait!”
He growled into her ear, “Don’t.”
And they both rode their orgasms over the cliff together, melting into each other’s arms at the bottom.
Chapter 7
The next four days passed much the same way as the first one together. Donovan and Gus mostly stayed at Carly’s cottage. They spent their days on the beach and their evenings either grilling on the deck or visiting expensive restaurants. He bought her a few new dresses so she didn’t have to wear the one she’d brought along every time.
On Friday, Carly began to dread the end of vacation. She needed to be out of the cottage by two in the afternoon on Saturday to give the owner time to get the place cleaned for the next week’s renters. Plus, she had a four-hour drive to get back to her parents’ house, and she needed to spend the whole day on Sunday getting ready for her first day at the new job on Monday.
“What’s wrong?” Donovan asked while they sipped coffee on the deck.
Carly smiled brightly. “Nothing.”
He grinned. “Are you sad our fling is almost over?”
She looked down at her coffee cup, not wanting to meet his eyes. Carly knew the rule: they weren’t supposed to talk about their lives outside of this week—this cottage. She was pretty sure that included feelings of loss over a relationship she knew she could never have with Donovan. Still, something about his eyes made her feel safe. Like he wanted to know how she really felt. “A little,” she admitted.
“Yeah, me too.”
Carly’s head jerked up, and she studied his face in surprise.
“What? I’m not a monster or something.” He chuckled and came over to kneel beside her chair, grabbing her hand. “I’ve had the perfect vacation here with you. I don’t want it to end either.”
Carly sighed. “But it has to,” she said grudgingly. “Back to the real world.” She knew there would be way too much work to do getting used to her new job and proving herself as a kick-ass reporter to be dealing with some kind of long-distance relationship. It wasn’t practical, and she wasn’t going to derail her career over a beach fling.
“Yeah.” Donovan kissed her hand, stood up, and carried his coffee to the deck railing to gaze at the ocean. “But who knows. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
Carly’s pulse quickened. What was he saying?
He glanced over his shoulder at her, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “If we’re meant to be together for more than just this week, then we’ll run into each other somehow. It’ll be . . . serendipitous.”
Carly relaxed back into her seat, nodded, and took a sip of coffee. She liked that idea. A tiny bit of hope that someday, somehow, she’d be standing on a busy sidewalk and catch a glimpse of Donovan on the other side of the street. She’d speed up, call his name, and try to find a spot to cross. He’d hear her, and a look of wonder would appear on his face as he searched the crowd for her face. When their eyes met, they’d fall immediately and hopelessly in love, knowing the universe had arranged for them to find each other again. It would be magical.
And it would never really happen. But maybe the lovely idea of its possibility would help Carly get through the next day.
“Want to take a walk?”
Carly nodded and hopped out of her chair, following him off the deck. Gus trailed behind them.
The partiers in the cottage two doors over were already out on the beach, drinking and being loud. It was probably their last full day of vacation too. Normally, Donovan and Carly walked the other way along the beach to avoid interacting with them, but this time, Donovan turned that direction. “Let’s see what’s down this way,” he said. “We’ll get past the rowdy crowd quickly.”
Carly nodded and followed him, her feet sinking in the sand as she walked. She was going to miss their strolls along the ocean so much. It was hard to think about how, soon enough, she’d find herself in an office every morning instead of on the beach.
As they passed the crowd of college students partying, Gus suddenly let out a loud yelp. Carly and Donovan spun around to find him lying on his side on the beach. They both darted back to him, Donovan sliding to his knees in the sand. “What’s wrong, boy?” His eyes scanned the dog’s body.
“It’s his paw.” Carly saw drips of blood on the sand under the lab’s front paw.
Donovan grabbed the dog’s foot and examined it. “There’s a piece of glass in it.” His face contorted in a grimace.
“Oh no!” Carly dropped to her knees beside Donovan to get a better look at Gus’s paw. Sure enough, she could see a large piece of glass sticking out of the webbing between his toes. She dropped her eyes to the ground a few feet behind where the dog lay and then crawled over. “It’s a broken beer bottle,” she said.
A crowd of partiers had gathered around them, and Carly spat at them, “You guys need to clean this up. And check the rest of your beach area for more dangerous debris.” Several heads nodded, and the now-sober kids dispersed, scouring the beach for more hazards.
Carly crawled back over to Donovan and Gus. “I can pull the glass out,” she said gently. “Take your shirt off.”
He didn’t question her but pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to her.
“If it bleeds a lot when I pull the shard out, we can use this to apply pressure. You might have to carry him up to the house.”
Donovan nodded, and Carly saw there were tears in his eyes. His hand shook as he petted Gus’s neck. The dog wagged hi
s tail frantically and tried to stand up. Carly put her hands on his side and kept him down. “Stay, boy,” she murmured. Quickly, she yanked the glass shard out of the dog’s paw. He whined and pulled his paw away. Carly was relieved to see that the wound only oozed. There was no spurting, so the piece of glass probably hadn’t nicked an important blood vessel.
Donovan moved around behind the dog and lifted him into his arms. Though it must have been hard to carry the large animal across the shifting beach sand, he made it look easy. Carly ran ahead and met them in her driveway, purse and keys in hand. She’d grabbed a sundress and pulled it over her swimsuit and slipped on flip-flips too.
“Put him in the back of my car,” she said, opening the door. “You can sit back there with him.” As Donovan got himself and Gus settled in the car, Carly used the voice recognition software on her phone to pull up the location of the closest vet clinic and call them. Once she’d verified they were open and could see Gus, Carly climbed in the driver’s seat, set her GPS to direct her, and backed out of the driveway.
She drove as fast as she could without knowing where she was going. She checked her rearview mirror often. Donovan was holding his shirt to Gus’s foot and murmuring to the dog. Carly’s heart surged at the sight. He wasn’t only sexy, he was kind and loving, just like she’d suspected on their first date.
When they arrived at the clinic, a small building that looked like a country cottage, Carly pulled up parallel to the door. Two staff members came out to help get Gus off Donovan’s lap and into the building. Donovan followed them, and Carly parked the car before she went in too.
Donovan sat in the waiting room, shirtless. His face was paler than usual, and it looked drawn and tense. Carly sat next to him and grabbed his hand, squeezing. He gave her a small smile and squeezed back.
“I can’t believe those jerks,” Carly said. “Leaving broken glass all over the beach like that.”
“Yeah. I hope they learned their lesson.”
They sat waiting for about fifteen minutes. A white-haired lady came through the front door with a tiny, peppy, equally white-haired dog, and Donovan and Carly chuckled as the pup jumped all over the place, yipping happily.
A white-coated woman appeared in front of them. “Hi, I’m Dr. Sails,” she said. “Gus is going to be just fine.”
Donovan’s muscles visibly relaxed at her words, and Carly squeezed his hand again.
“The glass didn’t hit any tendons or arteries,” the veterinarian continued, “and I used some local anesthesia on the area, cleaned and disinfected it, and placed four stitches. He’ll need to wear a bandage for a couple weeks until the sutures come out. You’ll want to keep him from running or jumping, and he might have to wear a cone if he wants to lick or chew the bandage.”
Donovan nodded. “Thanks, Doc,” he said.
Dr. Sails smiled. “You’re welcome. Gus is a sweetie. I’m getting together some pain meds and antibiotics for him, and then a vet tech will bring him out and discharge you.”
The doctor disappeared back into the treatment area.
Donovan turned to Carly. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “That would have been a lot trickier without you.”
“You’re welcome. I love Gus.”
She didn’t add the end of the sentence onto her words, but her heart did . . . she thought she was falling in love with Donovan too.
She bit down on the words and shook her head a little. She couldn’t fall in love with him. They were both leaving to go back to their own worlds the next day, and loving Donovan would only cause Carly heartache. She wasn’t going to have any way to contact him and would likely never see him again.
Loving him wasn’t in her cards.
Chapter 8
They ordered Chinese takeout for dinner and sat on the floor with Gus all evening. Then they put him on the bed between them to sleep. It wasn’t the passionate last night Carly had expected it to be, but she didn’t mind. She was glad the dog was going to be fine, and she felt cozy and happy sleeping with Gus and his owner.
On Saturday, Donovan went back to his cottage to pack, and Carly did the same thing in her bungalow. As she stood in the doorway for the last time, she thought she might cry. How silly. It was just a vacation—a tiny blip of time in a long life. If Penny had been there, would she have been tearful about leaving? Probably not.
She closed the door firmly and turned toward the driveway. Next door, Donovan was boosting Gus into the Ford. It looked like he was ready to go too. He closed the truck door and came over to Carly. “I’m sorry our last day got messed up.”
“It’s okay,” Carly said. “I had the best time of my life this week. You fulfilled all your promises of making sure I had a great time.”
Donovan grinned. “It was the best vacation I ever had.”
He gathered her in his arms and gave her a sweet, soft kiss. “Thank you, Carly.”
“Thank you, Donovan.”
They parted, holding each other’s fingertips until the last possible second, and then Donovan turned and strode to the Ford, climbed in, fired it up, and backed out of the driveway. She watched him the entire way, and when he passed behind her driveway, he honked a little and waved. Her heart clenched as she waved back. It was hard to believe she was never going to see him again.
As she climbed into the Kia, a tear rolled down Carly’s cheek. She brushed it away impatiently, put her sunglasses on, and lifted her chin. She forced her thoughts forward, toward her new job and the rest of her life.
Her cell phone rang as she backed out of the driveway. She glanced at it and then hit the button to answer and put it on speaker phone. “Hey, Pen,” she said cheerfully. “How’s Mexico?”
“It was amazing. We just got back. We found so much stuff that it’ll take years to go through and catalog and examine it all.”
Carly smiled at the pure excitement and joy in her friend’s voice. Penny had truly found her calling in life.
“How about you? Are you home yet?”
“No. I’m just leaving the ocean.” She couldn’t keep the tiniest bit of sadness out of her voice.
Penny knew her too well and caught it. “Oh man. Did you have a boring time all by yourself?”
“Nope. I had the best time ever. I’m actually glad you didn’t come. No offense.”
“Well, that’s good. I guess. You got lots of reading time?”
“I only managed to finish one trashy novel.”
“Really?” Penny sounded intrigued. “What did you do, then?”
“I met a gorgeous guy and had a wild, week-long affair.”
“No, seriously. What did you do?”
Carly laughed. “I’m serious! I had tons of the best sex of my life and got to go to expensive, fancy restaurants and drink the finest wine.” She sighed. “It was amazing.”
“You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” Penny actually squealed, making Carly glad she wasn’t holding the phone up to her ear. “I can’t believe you met someone. Where does he live?”
“I don’t know.” Carly felt a twinge of regret. Maybe they shouldn’t have set such stringent rules for their fling. Perhaps they should have given each other their last names and the cities they lived in. Just enough so one of them could find the other if they decided they wanted more than one week.
There was a long pause on the line before Penny spoke again. “What do you mean you don’t know where he lives?”
“It was the rules of our week,” Carly explained. “We didn’t talk about family, friends, work, or anything like that. We didn’t share any way to contact each other afterward. We lived completely in the moment with absolutely no strings attached.”
There was another pause. She thought Penny must be trying to decipher the various emotions Carly knew her voice must be betraying. Finally, her best friend said softly, “But there are strings, aren’t there?”
“Ugh. Just a few. Threads, really, not even strings. And I’m sure they’ll dissolve once I get home and start my
new job at the paper. The magical atmosphere of vacation will slip away, and so will any feelings I might think I have for Donovan.”
“Donovan, huh? Cool name. I hope you’re right about the vacation glow. Call me when you get home.”
Carly agreed, ended the call, and turned the radio up as she drove away from the coast and left Donovan and their sexy weeklong beach fling far behind.
Chapter 9
Carl and Trista Roberts had bought the house Carly grew up in when their daughter was only three years old and her brother, Tristan, was five. It was a modest but spacious ranch on a quarter acre, and Carly loved it. But she never thought she’d move back into it after she left for high school. Sure, she’d been home for a few weeks each year during the summer and at Christmas, but actually bringing her entire wardrobe and all her makeup and books back into her childhood room after graduation had made her feel a little defeated.
It wasn’t all that unusual. She knew lots of people who moved back in with their parents. It wasn’t as easy to find jobs as it once was—especially if your degree was in something like journalism. Carly knew she was one of the lucky ones. She had managed to find a job, even though she’d started looking for one a whole semester before she was done with school and it had taken the entire term to find it and get hired. She was starting at the bottom of the barrel at the Newton Weekly Herald, based in the biggest city within a hundred miles of her childhood home. She’d have to drive about thirty minutes each way to get to work from her parents’ house, but that was only temporary. Carly hoped to save enough money to get a decent apartment in Newton within six months.
She knew there would be plenty of hard work involved to make it happen. She planned on getting to work early every day and staying late. Breaking any story she could get her hands on and running it down until she had something amazing to give the editor. Carly would be tough, smart, and persistent, and she’d get the editor’s attention and have more stories assigned to her than any junior journalist in the history of the paper.