by Emma Douglas
“If that’s what you want.” He stepped back to let her close the door and they ran through the rain together back to the Mustang.
She felt a little guilty about dripping on the gorgeous leather upholstery when she slid inside the car but Will didn’t look worried. In fact, he was grinning. She found herself grinning back as they headed out into the night.
It was exactly what she needed. The thrum of Lulu’s engine and the smell of Will surrounded her as they ate up the miles, and she found herself grinning harder.
There were hardly any other cars on the roads, and Will handled Lulu with an easy familiarity that let her relax and just enjoy the ride.
In the dark and the rain there was a strange sort of freedom. A feeling that, for once, no one was watching. No one keeping an eye on her. She could do what she wanted and to hell with it.
Will didn’t say much but he stole glances at her as they drove. Glances that held something hot and dark that mixed with the motion and the engine sound to make her feel reckless. Made her want to be fearless again.
When they reached the far side of the island, approaching the beach up past the marina, Will slowed the car.
The rain hadn’t let up at all.
“I’m not sure your theory about the storm heading out to sea is right,” he said.
“It’s just going slow. It will ease up. Why don’t you pull up near the lookout and we can wait and see if it does?”
Will steered Lulu into the small bank of parking spaces that curved along the cliff edge next to the lookout. In summer it would have been packed with tourists enjoying the view back across to the mainland lights or local teenagers wishing the tourists would leave so that they could park, but tonight they had it all to themselves. She released her seat belt and tossed her hat and coat into the back seat as Will parked. He left the engine running. Just as well, otherwise things would get chilly pretty fast.
“I don’t think I’ve parked here since I was a teenager,” she said, peering through the windshield. Not much to see outside. With the rain obscuring the view there wasn’t even the faintest glimmer of the lights from the mainland.
“Teenage Will would be skeptical about what Lansing Island teenagers did for entertainment,” Will said.
“Your teenage self didn’t like surfing and great weather all year?” She twisted her neck to look at him.
“No,” he said. His expression went strangely flat for a moment. “And this is not exactly great weather.” But he smiled again as he said it and that heat was back in his eyes.
She sat back and twisted toward him. So little distance between them. A foot or two. All she’d have to do would be wriggle forward a little and …
“Nice view,” he said, gaze locked on hers.
“Generations of Lansing teenagers have thought so.”
“I wasn’t looking out the window.” His voice had gone low. Rough. Tight. Like he was trying to keep himself under control.
She caught her breath, not exactly certain how good a grip she had on hers either. “Neither were they.” She shivered a little as need started to settle in her belly.
“Why don’t you come over here and let me warm you up?”
She didn’t need a second invitation. Her body moved without thought at the words and she swung herself around and into his lap with an ease that suggested that maybe she hadn’t forgotten everything her teenage self had known.
His eyes went wide for a moment, startled, before his hands came to her waist, resting just firmly enough to let her know that he wanted her right where she was.
The car was toasty warm now. Too warm as she watched Will’s eyes and the heat there seemed to leap from him to her. The sound of the rain on Lulu’s roof and the fogged-up windows and the lack of light made her feel as though they were in another world entirely. One where anything might happen—if she was just brave enough to let it.
“Just as well you’ve already seen the sights,” Will said, voice still tight. “That rain is getting worse, not better.”
She could feel the tension in him. Knew he was keeping himself tightly leashed. Because he wanted her to be sure. He didn’t have to say it. The hunger on his face was clear. But he was holding back. For her. It made her want to see what happened if she broke all that carefully controlled restraint.
“Maybe we’ll just have to make our own entertainment then.” She pushed a little closer.
Will swallowed. Hard. “Music? I have music.”
“Pretty hard to hear it over this rain,” she said. “And there are other things we could be doing.”
His fingers tightened at that, flexing hard against her skin, and his hips moved under her. Another shiver ran through her.
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
“If I have to explain to you, then I’m going to form a very poor opinion of teenage Will,” Mina said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Teenage Will wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest ladies’ man,” Will said. “He was kind of lanky and into science.”
“Hot geeks are in now,” she said. She put her hand on his chest. Felt the muscle tense beneath. Slid it a little higher, to touch the skin of his neck.
He sucked in a breath. “Sadly a decade or so after teenage Will’s prime.”
“Well, maybe present-day Will can make it up to him.”
His hands tightened. Oh, she liked the feel of his hands on her. And the scent of him, male and warm and right there. So close.
“Present-day Will thinks that’s a damn good idea.”
“So does present-day Mina,” she said. “So how about you make your move?”
Seemed as though Will didn’t need to wait for second invitations either. Because then he was kissing her. But not the kisses she remembered. Not quite so hungry. No, right now, Will’s mouth was soft on hers, taking his time. Exploring her. His hands had tightened into her shirt, the pressure on her skin a good kind of too much, but they didn’t move. Didn’t wander. Didn’t go seeking her skin. Which very much wanted to be discovered.
The perfect first-date kiss. The kind you could sink into for a day or so. But right now, it wasn’t enough. She pressed herself into his lap. He was hard, no mistaking that. But even with her wordless invitation, he didn’t take things further.
He was still being careful, she realized. Letting her set the pace. It was sweet, but right now she didn’t want sweet. She pulled away, reluctantly. Because his sweet was oh so sweet. But she wanted more. He tilted his head, as though asking if everything was okay.
“Teenage Mina would appreciate you being a gentleman,” she said. “But just so we’re straight, I’m not her.”
His brows flew up. “I know that. I just—”
She stopped him with a finger on his lips.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re not the first guy I’ve slept with since Adam.”
He blinked at that. “O-kay.”
“Is that so surprising?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t. I don’t care about what happened in the past.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. But his eyes were steady. Waiting for her answer. She ducked her head, then lifted it again. “I’m a widow. Some people have ideas about how widows should be. Rules.”
“Widow rules?” His mouth quirked at that.
“Yeah.” It sounded dumb. But she wasn’t going to explain it to him. He wasn’t the one who’d walked down the street with all those eyes on him. Hadn’t seen the pity and assessment behind everyone’s eyes for the first two years. The flashes of judgment when she and Lilah had closed Carter’s Boats. And now there was pity and speculation. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Well,” Will said eventually. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve always figured that there’s only one rule that really matters when it comes to life.” He pulled her a little closer against him and the salty scent of his skin made her head reel. Through the window she could hear the wind like a whispering rush matc
hing the surge in her blood. Urging her on.
“And what’s that?” She twined her hands in his hair.
“Do what makes you happy as long as you don’t hurt anybody else in the process.”
That made her pause. “That sounds like my dad. He liked doing whatever the hell he wanted.”
Will shook his head. “I didn’t know your dad, but from what I’ve heard of him he didn’t always pay attention to the second part.”
“He hurt people.” She closed her eyes. Even the people he loved.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Will said. There was an urgent, hungry note in the words that rang true to her. “Never.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ll going to do my damnedest to make it so.”
God.
He was solid, this man. Solid like the earth. Miles deep. Maybe that was why he made her burn so hot. There was a molten heart to him like the earth. Catching hers alight.
She leaned into him and kissed him softly. “I think I like your rule.”
“Damn straight. Anyone who tries to tell you anything else can go fuck themselves. Too many people in this world think they’re the damn happiness police.” He grinned at her. “So are we done talking about other guys now?” One hand had found the gap between her T-shirt and her skin, and his fingers spread across her back, thumb feathering gently back and forth. She shivered, wanting that touch in other less innocuous places.
“Yes.”
“Good. Because the only man here with you now is me. And I intend to hold your attention.”
She was straddled across his lap, his hands under her clothes, parked in a Mustang. He had her attention. “I’m not likely to forget where I am.”
A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows.
“Or who I’m with,” she added, in case he’d taken that the wrong way. “It’s just you and me.” She hoped that would be true. Will wasn’t one of those swipe-right guys.
But neither of those guys—perfectly nice as they had been, for guys out for sex via an app—had been someone she knew. Someone she’d been thinking about. Someone who’d been keeping her up at night, thinking about. Wanting.
She wanted this to be right. Good. She needed good. She needed Will to make her feel good.
And that was flat out terrifying. The thought stole her breath, and she stilled.
“Hey,” Will said gently. “We can stop if you want.”
Damn it. He was killing her with kindness. Stealing under her defenses like sea mist drifting up the beach, seeping under her skin and into her bones. If she wasn’t careful, then she’d be the one in trouble come Christmas.
But the only way to deal with a sea mist was to wait for the sun to come out. To let the heat burn it off.
She had a feeling that she and Will would do just fine in the generating heat department. All that remained to be seen was what happened after the fire.
“I don’t want,” she said and bent her head down to kiss him again. Seeking the heat and the hunger. Wanting it to carry her away.
Will tasted hot and dark and needy. The taste of him flooded her mouth and made everything go tight.
That was it.
The thing she wanted. She put her arms on his shoulders, trying to wriggle a little closer.
Will groaned, his hand sliding upward. She wanted his hands on her. Wanted skin and muscle and warmth against her. He moved slowly, fingers tracing her ribs. She made an impatient noise and reached to bring his hand up her breast where she needed it.
He made a soft sound of surprise or pleasure, and then he pulled his hand away. But before she could protest, it was back, this time tugging at the shirt she wore. Buttons melted away at Will’s touch and then his hand was on her again, sliding over the lace of her bra, the combination of hand and fabric, catching her nipple and setting her skin on fire. He wasn’t holding back now, teasing her and tangling his tongue in her mouth until she had to hold on to his shoulders to anchor herself against the sensations.
Her bra came undone and his mouth moved to join his fingers, and her head spun with it. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying, urging Will on with little pleased moans and words that might not have even been words.
God. It felt good. She sank down against him, pressing into him, frustrated by the layers of fabric between them.
She hadn’t thought this through. Should’ve worn a skirt, but that would have required admitting to herself that this was what she had in mind when she’d asked Will to come over.
“You know,” Will said, voice vibrating against her skin, “this might be easier in a bed. You know, nice flat surface, lots of room.”
He was right. It would be easier. But it would also require stopping. Which would let the thoughts come back. She didn’t want to think. She’d spent three years thinking.
“Too far away,” she said winding her hands into his hand and tugging his head back. “Don’t stop.”
“Impatient, are you?”
“Yes.” She almost growled the word. “I am. Is that a problem?”
“No,” he said. “But if this is what you want, then you’re going to help me a little. Starting with losing those jeans.”
“I’ll lose mine if you lose yours,” she said. She wriggled free of him with a brief undignified twist. But she didn’t care about dignity. Sex wasn’t about looking good. It was about feeling good. And Will made her feel good.
She squirmed out of her jeans—thank the Lord for big old cars—and saved time by taking off her underwear too. When she looked up, Will was watching her. And he hadn’t yet undressed. But he didn’t really have to. Male anatomy was helpful that way. All she had to do was reach down and slide that zipper open and he’d be all hers.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” he said. “I vote you come back over here and show me.”
“Me too,” she said and slid back to him. She swung her leg to straddle him again and reached for the buttons on his shirt. Will’s fingers slid between her legs, which made her forget what she was doing.
“God, that feels good,” he muttered and swept his thumb over her clit with precision. Her hips bucked. He pressed again. “Does it feel good to you?”
She nodded, temporarily deprived of speech by the pleasure of it. He smiled then and went to work, one hand on her hip, holding her still where she was, the other doing wicked wonderful things.
She floated on the sensations, but good as they were, they weren’t quite enough.
“More,” she said.
“More this?” Will asked.
“More you. In me.”
The sound that came out of his throat was mostly incoherent, but his hands dropped away. The rasp of his zipper was the best sound she’d heard all day. Followed by the crinkle of foil. She hadn’t even thought about that. She closed her eyes. Good thing one of them was sensible. Though she didn’t want sensible, she wanted Will.
Will, who was pulling her down against him. And now it was flesh and flesh, all that lovely hard man sliding against her.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
That was all he needed. He spread his thighs, pushing her knees wider, and then she felt him nudging her before he slid into her. Or she slid down onto him. She wasn’t sure which. Just knew that the feeling as he moved into her was perfect.
She didn’t want it to stop.
Luckily, Will didn’t seem inclined to hurry things. No, he just moved beneath slow and steady, holding her hips so she had to let him set the pace. Let him determine each slide and retreat and return. Each one seeming to drag her a little deeper into whatever magic he was working. Wrapping her closer in touch and taste and sound. He moved and she moved with him, their rhythm growing faster but never breaking. Never faltering. As though the two of them had done this many times before.
As if he knew how her body would react to each thing he did.
The sound of the rain and the sounds she was making filled her ears, and the darkness and the st
eamed-up windows blocked out anything else that wasn’t Will or the pleasure throbbing through her and the pressure building.
Will’s teeth scraped her neck then he did something that changed the angle slightly. A shudder ran through her. She didn’t know what he’d done but it felt … so good. She dropped her head back, closing her eyes, hips still moving with his.
“Look at me,” he said roughly. “I want to see you.”
She couldn’t deny the plea in his voice. Not when it was somehow edged with command. She locked her eyes on his, so dark and fierce in the night, and let all the need she saw there, all that want and hunger directed at her, carry her over the edge as he thrust one last time and she came.
* * *
It took a few minutes to come back to herself. To stop floating in the sensations and anchor herself back in reality. The first thing she noticed was the sound of her breath in her ears. Rasping. She sounded like she’d run a marathon. Will did too. His head where it rested on her shoulder was hot. She knew how he felt. She was tempted to lean over and roll down the fogged window in the driver’s side door.
The sea air might cool them both down. Might also give them pneumonia.
Instead she focused on bringing her breathing under control. Not easy when she was still hard up against Will, her skin tingling, the smell of sex surrounding them, his hands under her clothes. Apparently once wasn’t enough to burn this out of her system.
Which meant they were just going to have to do it again. She smiled at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” Will asked, and she realized he’d lifted his head and was watching her, pupils still wide and dark in the moonlight.
“Nothing. Just feeling”—she stopped, wriggled a little—“good.”
That brought a smile to his face. “I’m glad to hear it.” He shifted beneath her. “Which brings me to the obvious question.”
“And what’s that?”
“Well, as much as I am one hundred percent in favor of what just happened, I’m thinking that for round two, perhaps we could go somewhere with a little more scope for creativity.”