Down the Shore

by T. Torrest

  I lay my head against his chest and his arm tightens around my back. Slowly, his hand starts to slide up and down my spine as he presses his lips against my hair and kisses me above my ear.

  No, wait. He’s not kissing me... he’s singing to me.

  I’ve listened to countless hours of music. I’ve analyzed every note; I’ve loved every word. But now here is a song being performed just for me. Sung by my very own rock god purring against my ear.

  You know she thrills me with all her charms…

  when I’m wrapped up in my baby’s arms…

  The sensation of his soft breath near me has combined with the ringing of my ears and has rendered me deaf. Great. I’m deaf now. Something deep in the rational recesses of my brain tells me that that should probably bother me. But it doesn’t.

  Jack gives out a sigh. “Not exactly the ballroom at the Waldorf, is it?”

  Okay, I guess I can hear after all.

  “No,” I reply softly. “But it feels like it.”

  “You know, I’ve got to say, I don’t think I’ve ever been the target of a seduction before. I think I like it.” His boyish grin has me sputtering out a giggle against his chest as he spins us around in a full circle.

  At the end of the song, Jack’s arm stiffens around me. He’s quiet—tensely so—and I sense that he’s grappling with something. I step back slightly to look at his face. His mouth is set in a grim line, looking like he’s in turmoil over whether to speak or remain silent.

  “What? What’s that face?” I ask.

  He’d been looking off at some point beyond my head, but my question brings him back to Earth. He slides a hand behind my neck, holding my gaze locked to his as he asks, “Are you sure?”

  “Sure about... you mean am I sure about... us? As in tonight?”

  “I need to know before this goes any further.”

  I almost burst out laughing. Here I’ve been a nervous wreck all evening while he’s been playing it cool as a cucumber. Now that I’m finally letting go and actually enjoying myself, he’s the one on guard.

  Jack sees me fighting a smile and instead of catching my amusement, he continues in an almost annoyed tone, “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page here tonight. I’m not normally in the habit of waiting, and I’ve waited for you. Because it’s you. Because I was afraid of what would happen if you allowed me—if I allowed myself—to have you.”

  We are no longer moving, just standing in our dancers’ pose as I look at him in disbelief. “And what would happen… exactly… do you think?”

  Jack steps free from my grasp and grabs his pack of cigarettes off the microwave. He lights one at the stove and leans against the counter, arms crossed. He takes a long drag, and his words expel along with the breath of smoke. “Look. I wasn’t looking for this, you know? I was in a relationship for a long time with someone who...” He trails off when he catches the glare I’m aiming at him.

  I cannot believe he is actually alluding to his ex-girlfriend at a moment like this. The annoyed scowl on my face nearly approaches infuriation when he starts to laugh.

  “Holy shit, that’s not what I’m saying. What a dicky thing to bring up. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you saying, Jack?”

  He takes another drag off his cig and holds it out to me. “Here. You look like you could use this.”

  I reluctantly pinch the cigarette from his fingers and take a pull as he continues, “I’m trying to say, Livia, that I’m crazy about you. I might be going about it completely the wrong way, however, and for that I apologize. But the fact of the matter is, if you haven’t already figured it out...”

  “I’m listening,” I say, prodding him on.

  He takes the cig back, pulls on it one last time, and throws the butt into the sink. He steps toward me and takes my hands in his, lifting one to raise my chin so that I’m looking into his gray eyes. “What I’m trying to say is that I wasn’t looking for you.” He brushes a kiss across my fingertips. “But I’m incredibly glad—and lucky—to have found you.”

  Okay. Not exactly a declaration of undying love and devotion, but pretty damn close. Besides, I’m too afraid to hear him say it out loud. The look on his face is already saying it loudly enough.

  I brush my cheek against his hand in mine, then turn it to kiss his open palm.

  Apparently, that small touch is enough to crack his reserve. His arms wrap around me quickly as his mouth takes mine in a possessive, demanding kiss.

  The urgency in his embrace makes my knees go weak, and I brace my hands against his hard chest, breathing heavily against his warm lips. When they slide up to bind in his hair, his arms tighten around me and his mouth opens impatiently on mine.

  It’s not until this moment when I become acutely aware that he’s been slowly walking me backwards toward the bedroom.

  CHAPTER 32

  Sunday, July 2, 1995

  Who Cares???

  My Bedroom at the Beach House

  Manasquan

  Jack grasps my wrists in his hands and raises them above my head, flattening me against the bedroom door with the length of his body. He presses against me as his tongue finds its way between my lips once more. I raise one leg to wrap around him which causes his hands to release their hold on my wrists and grab me under my backside, lifting me against the door, jacking his hips between my legs. My ankles are crossed against his back, but the sheer strength of his will is what’s keeping me aloft.

  That and his superhard dick.

  It’s straining against the fabric of his pants, grinding into my panties, and oh holy hell I can hardly breathe. I’m having speaker flashbacks. I think I’m going to die.

  We are devouring one another; all’s fair in love and war, and I guess that this is both. He bites my neck. I pull his hair. He lets out with a growl. I answer him with a moan.

  I can’t believe this is finally happening.

  He raises his face to mine, his lazy grin sending lightning bolts through my entire nervous system. His half-lidded eyes focus on my mouth for the briefest pause before he moves in to kiss me again.

  It’s hot and exciting to be held captive in his authoritative grasp, but this kiss is almost… tender. Submissive. Reverent.

  My legs slip down his sides, and I plant my feet on the floor once more. Sliding my hands around his neck, my thumbs lightly caress the hair at his nape. His arms wrap around my waist, swaying with me in a heartbreaking slow dance as he opens the door and backs me through it.

  We’d gone from animalistic to sweet in a matter of seconds, and I can’t decide which I like more. My heart is still hammering, but for an entirely different reason than it was just a moment ago.

  For the first time ever, I’m nervous about going to bed with a guy. Suddenly, sex is going to mean something, and I guess I’m pretty freaked out about it.

  But excited. I’m really excited, too.

  When I feel the back of my knees hit the bed, Jack breaks free and gives me a playful shove, sending me sprawling onto my back on top of the covers. I laugh as I prop myself up on my elbows, watching as he grabs the back of his shirt in his fist and pulls it over his head.

  I’m not laughing anymore.

  The sight of him without a shirt on is enough to force my silence as I gape at him in awe. It surprises me every time. EV-er-y time. I mean, the man has a body a statue would envy. That chest. Those abs. Lord help me, he looks like a mythical god, and the view knocks the wind right out of me. I feel like I’ve just been hit.

  In the vagina.

  With a sledgehammer.

  Swung by The Mighty Thor himself.

  He crawls slowly over me, kissing my collarbone, neck, and chin on his way to my lips. The kiss is gentle, his soft lips brushing against mine slowly at first, but gaining momentum, building authority as he lowers the weight of his body on top of mine, sinking me into the pillows. He positions his legs between my knees, and I pull him closer, arching my back and pushing into his hardened
length, fitting myself against him. I flatten my hands over his bare back and shoulders, loving the feel of his smooth skin over his contracting muscles.

  His lips are at my throat, running heated kisses along the side of my neck.

  “God, you taste so sweet.”

  I grab the back of his hair in my fists, drawing his face to mine in answer.

  His mouth slants fiercely across my own, deepening the kiss and overwhelming my senses. The taste of wine on his lips. His smoky scent. His low moan as he opens his mouth against mine and grinds himself against me harder.

  That puts me in such a state that I barely notice Jack sliding the top of my dress down. His rough hands run over my breasts before he replaces them with his soft mouth, teasing, tormenting me with the wet warmth of his tongue. The result is nothing short of spectacular, his expert mouth and the insistent pressure from his hips sending shockwaves through my body.

  Jack’s arms wrap fully around me, holding me to him, imprisoning my mouth to his as he rolls us to our side. Our bare skin touching, I can feel the pounding of our hearts—wild, furious, losing control.

  There is only a moment of hesitation before I slide my palm over the front of his slacks and up to his waist. My hands are shaking as I fumble with the button but have an easier time with the zipper. Jack stares down at me, his gray eyes dark, a wicked smile at his mouth. Pressing a kiss to his full lips, I strip him, using my foot to kick the pants completely off his legs. I start stroking a hand over the length of him, barely contained within his cotton boxers.

  Great. An endless stretch of abstinence, and Conan the Barbarian here is going to be the guy to break my streak.

  The touch tears a breath from Jack’s throat and then a staggered laugh. “Nuh-uh. Me first.”

  He kisses me onto my back and before I know it, my dress and panties are lying in a heap on the floor. Jack rolls off the bed and I’m momentarily left to try and act blasé about the fact that I’m presently sprawled out naked on the sheets, so I attempt to strike a suitable centerfold pose.

  He digs briefly through the pocket of his discarded pants before his thumbs go to his waistband, and some long-lost sense of decorum has me turning my head away. Like I have any right to play shy now, lying naked on the bed like Miss January.

  “You have a condom?” I ask, incredulously. “What was all your talk about this being Date Eight-and-a-half?”

  He shoots me a smirk and replies, “Lips, I almost caved on Date Two. I wasn’t going to take any chances after that.”

  He slides back up the mattress again, surprising me when he gives a leisurely swipe of his tongue between my legs. It almost has me launching off the bed. He settles himself in and groans against me, teasing and tasting and licking and oh God.

  His voice vibrates along my skin. “Christ. I can’t hold out long enough to do this right. I’m dying for you, Liv.”

  “Oh God. Me too. Come here.”

  I can feel him shaking as he moves his mouth over to my hip, feathers his lips along my stomach, my breasts, my neck, working his knees inside mine again, pressing that steel rod right between my thighs. It strains against me as his mouth closes over mine; my hands tangle in his hair as his arms wind around my back. He holds me close, kissing me sweetly, then firmly, slipping his tongue between my lips lightly, then deeply. The effect is drugging my senses and making my heart hammer uncontrollably.

  I become aware that he’s taking his time, drawing out our last tormented moments before the main event, and the anticipation is almost unbearable. His hardened body is poised against me, holding out, waiting. I’m almost insane with wanting him and the anguished look on his strained features tells me he’s having a hard time trying to maintain control, prolonging this sweet agony for my sake.

  But I’m ready for him now. I want him now.

  Without breaking our kiss, I slip my hand down his back, grabbing his ass to pull him closer.

  Jack takes the hint and starts a leisurely slide inside me, taking his sweet old time. It’s almost torture to move at this speed, every inch of him pushing inside in slow motion, my body stretching to take him in. I can feel everything.

  For him.

  Oh God. I do. I feel everything for this man.

  Jesus. There’s a lump in my throat.

  Jack smooths a hand over my hair as his low, rough voice scratches out, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been whispering over your lips this entire time?”

  I open my eyes and look at his hard features staring down at me. My heart is already beating furiously but I am sent into oblivion with the sound of his voice. I can’t even begin to answer.

  Jack shakes his head in defeat and confesses, “I love you. I love you. I love y—”

  I cut off his words with my mouth against his, and he drives into me full-length, making us both shudder with the force of his movement.

  There is no apprehension, there is no uncertainty, there is no going back. I am gone.

  He puts a hand at the small of my back, lifting me to him, driving further into me with slow, deep, tender movements and it’s more than I can stand. I clasp his shoulders tightly, digging my nails lightly into his skin, feeling the power of his insistent rocking. I wrap my legs around his waist, needing to feel him deeper, as close as we can get.

  It’s… beautiful. There’s no other way to describe it. I’ve never felt anything so incredible in my entire life.

  We’ve waited so long for this, though. We waited forever, and because of that, beautiful is not nearly enough. We have way too much pent-up agony to take things slowly right now. Bravo to him for even trying.

  “Jack, this is amazing and all… it’s so sweet… but God. I’ve been dying for this. Right now, I really need you to fuck me.”

  There’s a quick shiver along his body, and his head drops as he scratches out, “Christ.”

  It’s as if I’ve just granted him a reprieve. I know he needs this, too. We can do beautiful later.

  Without further deliberation, his arm sweeps under my knee as he rests my leg in the crook of his elbow… and drives full-force into me. Deep.

  Holy shit. I’ve unleashed the kraken.

  He pulls out almost fully, then does it again. And again.

  His thumbs dig into my hips as his fingers clamp onto my ass cheeks, securing my body to his as he slams me repeatedly, hard and fast and deep and holy hell I’m about to lose my damned mind.

  Before I know it, my leg is perched over his shoulder, bent backwards at an obscene angle as his upper body hovers over mine, his hands in fists against the mattress on either side of me. “Kiss me, Lips.”

  His movement becomes rhythmic, purposeful, building speed, and I feel a stirring deep within me, taking shape. But I don’t recognize the form until the small electric charges at my center start to progress into a pounding cadence, racing from my belly to my toes and back again. I’m almost afraid of the force building inside of me; I’ve never felt anything like this before. I slam my eyes shut and hold on for the ride as I hear myself cry out, every nerve within me threatening to detonate.

  “Kiss me, Lips,” Jack says again, so I comply. I grab hold of his hair and plant my lips on his, our mouths a heated tangle of tongues and groans and panting breaths. I’ve never had an out-of-body experience before, but this may be as close as I can ever hope to get.

  Wait. Nope. Hold on…

  “Ohh. Ohhh!” I moan, as Jack’s hand slips around to my front, sliding his thumb against me right there oh my God yes, his satisfied smirk daring me to come first.

  No problem.

  I thrash against the pillow, my leg drops from his shoulder, and my torso arches toward the ceiling as the most incredible earthquakes rattle my insides. I’m clenching around him tighter than any kegels could accomplish on their own, and that, combined with the sound of my howling is enough to take Jack over the edge, too. I am still racking with tremors as his thrusting becomes more powerful, his pace picks up, and it sounds like the groans are being rip
ped from his chest as he covers his mouth over mine and plunges inside of me, pulling me tightly to him, pounding away at my body, shaking, panting, growling, harder, harder, harder…

  “You like this? You like it deep?” Jack hisses in between thrusts.

  Well, his cock is ginormous and I’m pretty sure I can feel it smashing against my sternum. So, hell yeah, I like it. “Yes! I love your big huge cock. Do me with it!”

  Okay, my dirty-talking skills could obviously use some work. But it’s not my fault. I’m out of practice and I think Jack has fucked my brain cells into oblivion anyway. Not that I really care at this point.

  “You like when I fuck you hard?”

  “Yes…”

  “You love my cock inside you.”

  “Yes…”

  “You want to watch me come?”

  Holy shit! He’s so bad. He is such a dirty, dirty man between the sheets. I love everything about that. I feel the current charging through my veins, every inch of my skin buzzing. My hand is planted firmly on that sweet ass of his, pulling him toward me on every stroke, deeper, deeper, deeper…

  Oh my God. I’m almost ready to come. Again.

  Jack knows it, too. His breathing is animal in my ear—groaning, panting, cursing, “You’re so wet… tight…”

  He clenches his teeth, trying to hold himself together, a white-knuckle grip on the headboard, slamming into me, breathing heavily, faster, faster, faster…

  “Oh God I have to… Oh fuck, Liv… I can’t…”

  He lashes out with one final, tortured roar as his body explodes in mine, quaking again and again and again.

  Jack collapses on top of me, sweaty and spent, but makes no effort to separate us. We lay unspeaking, out of breath, lightly caressing one another in contented fatigue.

  He finds the strength to lift his upper body from mine and look at me, the expression on his face euphoric with just the slightest dab of astonishment. “Wow.”

  My thoughts exactly.