by Natasha Boyd
I tapped lightly on Jazz’s sliding glass door but she didn’t answer, so I made my way around the building and past Woody’s. I’m not sure whose kayak I kept stealing to sneak out to her boat, but I was sure glad they were so trusting to keep it available to me night after night.
I heard soft jazz music floating across from her boat as my kayak slipped across the water. I should’ve been giving myself a pep talk about what to say immediately upon seeing her so I could get it over with quickly. Painlessly. She’d had a great night. A good day. Hopefully the good would outweigh the bad?
I tied up the kayak and climbed aboard. No sooner had I climbed down through the cabin entrance than Jazz grabbed my hand and pulled me in. I started to laugh. “Hold on,” I tried to say but her mouth was right there, and so I dropped a kiss on it. Mistake. Her mouth opened under my lips. God she tasted good. It really was an addiction I thought in a small part of my brain.
She pulled me closer, her tongue sliding against mine, her hand fisting in my hair, shooting shivers down my spine.
“God, Jazz,” I managed, but it came out like a groan. “Slow down.”
She seemed feverish. Strained.
“You okay?” I asked, managing to get the words out against her lips.
“Fine,” she whispered but I didn’t buy it.
I frowned, blinking my eyes and watched her back away from me. There was a catch in her breath and a heat in her eyes. She looked so beautiful. And suddenly so vulnerable. The panicked feeling in my chest I’d felt all day now seemed to have faded into an overwhelming need to make her feel good. To chase away this wild, edgy vibration that seemed to be shimmering off her.
Her hands moved to her shorts and before I realized what she was doing she’d pulled them down her legs and kicked them off her feet. She perched on the edge of the vinyl boat bench cushion in white cotton underwear. Her long legs were bare and smooth, and my palms itched to run their tanned length.
“What are you doing?” I whispered. This wasn’t what I’d planned. She was making this way too hard. In more ways than one.
She made a face and shrugged. “My shorts were uncomfortable?”
Right. But she was so adorable sitting there, trying to give me her most innocent look and failing utterly, that I couldn’t help but smile and shake my head. One more night of kissing wouldn’t make it worse surely. I mean why do it tonight? It would be easier in the light of day when we were rational. I would come over in the morning and talk to her then.
There was just something about her tonight. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But there was need. It pulsed between us. And it was vast, seductive, and heavy in the small interior of the boat. I shook my head as if I could clear it away, but it was useless.
“Come over here, Joseph. I won’t bite.”
“I’m not altogether sure about that.” I approached her, drawn by a force greater than myself. I leaned down toward her mouth, and she crept backward away from me further onto the mattress in the berth behind her.
“But I’m not sure if I’d complain,” I muttered as I followed her down.
Her warm hands slipped around my neck, setting my skin on fire.
“I think we’d better stack,” she said with a smile pulling me down. “Not much room for both of us to have our own space.”
Our bodies made contact and I groaned at the feel of her beneath me. I’d never been on top of her like this, and the need to take her, to claim her fully, to have her naked and moving under me was almost all I could think about. I squeezed my eyes closed to try and get some control over my emotions, hiding my face in her neck. I felt her laugh, soft and throaty. And my own lips smiled in response at the sound of her joy.
Of their own volition my lips opened, and my mouth sought hers. My tongue tasted the salt of her skin and the sweet tang of her mouth. She opened under me, her mouth, her body arching, the sweet heat between her legs cradling my body. Within moments I was lost.
Her hands slid over me.
My fingers tangled in her hair, and my other hand skimmed down her side. I couldn’t help the press of my hips, the need that was driving through me. “I love your mouth,” I whispered as I tasted her over and over. Needing more, never quite getting enough. She quaked under me. “And the taste of your skin.”
I ran my mouth down under her ear. “You taste of salt and vanilla.”
“That tastes good?” she tried to sass, but there was no fight in her words. Only want.
“Funny. Stop talking,” I said, and lifted up on my elbow to look down at her. To catch her eyes. To see if ... God, to see if she was feeling what I was feeling.
I’d never say the words, but I wondered if I she could see in my eyes what I wouldn’t, couldn’t ever say. Could she feel it in me? Was it obvious? Was it obvious how dangerously close I‘d been to throwing our futures off course? It felt like a gamble. If she could see it in my eyes, she’d say something. Let me know she felt the same way. And then it really would be too late. It would be real between us. My hand rested on her side. I longed to skim up her torso and feel her soft breasts. I licked my lower lip as my emotions gave way to my lust once again.
“No, wait,” she said.
I stilled. Waiting for her response. Had she seen it? The message I’d tried to tell her with my eyes?
“What?” I asked.
“What?” She frowned, like she’d lost her train of thought. I breathed an internal sigh, parts relief and disappointment.
“You said wait,” I whispered.
“Oh yeah,” she said and her eyes sparkled once more. “I was thinking, with all of this kissing, we’re still at first base.”
Her segue was so unexpected. I swallowed. I’d just been thinking of how much I wanted to touch her, I guess she got that message pretty loud.
“I think the run is clear to second,” she said, and her body arched toward me, begging me.
I exhaled roughly. “I thought you’d never ask,” I managed. Then to break the tension added with a raised eyebrow, “Boobs first?”
She burst into a giggle that warmed my stomach. I smiled uncontrollably back down at her and shifted so I could rest my head on one palm, leaving my other hand free to work on her buttons. Call me a schmuck, but I’d been desperate to see her beautiful tits that had been teasing me through tanks and swimsuits over the last few weeks. I made quick work of her buttons and couldn’t peel my eyes off her chest as I ran my hand up the soft skin of her belly and separated her shirt to reveal her white cotton bra. My mouth felt dry. God. “You’ve always had the most spectacular rack.” I smiled, but I think it was a weird twist of my mouth. “I’m so glad you’re old enough now, that I don’t have to feel pervy.” All I wanted to do was sink my teeth over the taught nipple I could see straining through her bra.
She smacked my shoulder with a teasing look and I chuckled.
I was harder than I’d ever been. Achingly uncomfortable. My hips flexed involuntarily against her thigh and my breath caught at the feel of it. My lips descended to hers again.
She pulled me into the kiss, deepening it. Arching into my hand as I grazed over the tips of her breasts. Then I couldn’t wait any longer to feel them. I closed my hand over her soft cotton-covered flesh, groaning at the feel of her. Jazz hissed out a breath as I did so, and it sent a bolt of need through my veins. That she could want me to touch her as badly as I needed to do it was amazing. My fingers squeezed her nipple, and I felt her answering gasp and shudder. My hand slipped under the fabric to her hot skin and her mouth left mine as her head fell back and her body undulated against me.
The sounds she made, the soft needy gasps were clawing at my self-control. Before I knew it, I’d peeled the fabric down and had my mouth wrapped tightly over a nipple drawing it firmly into my mouth.
Jazz moaned loudly, her lower body thrusting up to me. And I couldn’t stop the greedy trail of my mouth and my hands. I was addicted to the way her body responded, each gasp and shudder, digging into my gut and making me ach
e with a need so acute it was painful. I couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. The feel of her. I couldn’t help giving into the need to thrust against her. For her to feel what she was doing to me. I couldn’t help the loud groan at the sweet pressure I felt. I simply couldn’t stop.
Suddenly she was shifting and her hands pulled at my t-shirt. Yes, I wanted to feel her skin against mine. I yanked the shirt over my head and our chests connected.
“God, this feels good.” Her words or mine?
“Too fucking good,” I added. Way too good. It was going to far. “We should stop,” I said and I wanted to punch myself.
“God, no,” she said. “Why would you do that?”
I shook my head, I couldn’t remember why, and kissed her in relief.
“There’s a lot more second-basing to be done,” she smirked.
Second base. Right.
She pushed me up slightly and snaked her hand down my front. Her fingers popped my shorts button open. My cock jerked. “Jazz,” I warned. But I didn’t stop her. This was still second base, right?
Right?
Then her small hand slipped into my shorts and ran the length of me over my boxers and I steeled myself to hold still as shudders rolled through me. I squeezed my eyes closed trying to stay still and not thrust against her.
Her hand traveled back up my length again. My muscles shook. Warm fingers were suddenly under the waistband of my boxers and closing over my bare skin. My breath left me. “Christ,” I hissed. It was too good. Having her hands on me. Shit. God, I needed to feel her so badly. Was she wet for me? Was she aching for me like I was for her?
I didn’t want her hand to leave me. It was awkward the way we were lying, but my hand managed to slip between her legs.
She spread them wider, encouraging me and the invitation was like a lust punch to the gut. Her underwear was damn near soaked through. I slid my fingers under the fabric at her core and she arched into my hand. The sound wrenching from her throat was so desperate, I damn near came undone as my fingers slipped into her wet heat.
We were gasping for air. Both of us. The need was too much. I wanted to roll over on her and impale myself so fucking deep inside her that we’d never ever forget it.
Suddenly she was shoving my hand away. I blinked. She kissed me hard, and then she was moving. Kicking her underwear down her legs. And trying to push mine down too.
My cock sprang free and Jazz stopped and stared.
“Jazz,” I said. It sounded like a warning. My tone was all sorts of messed up. My heart pounded in my chest.
“Joseph,” Jazz said. “Is that a normal size? I haven’t seen that many.”
A laugh choked out of me. God, this girl. “Yes. It’s a normal size.”
“Kick your shorts off,” she demanded. “They’re in the way.”
“Already on it,” I said. Because if it meant her hands on me again, then yes.
I kicked my shorts off, losing my flip flops with them. I was naked. Jazz’s shirt was still on, though open, and somehow her still having some clothing on made me feel safer. I scooted back up to lie next to her so I could have at least one hand free to roam her body, but her hands urged me up and over her.
“No, Jazz—”
But she kissed my words away with her soft, sweet mouth. I kissed her back, drowning in the taste of her, the sensation of her hot skin beneath mine, the warm feel of her legs opening under mine. Her hips rocked, and with a shock, my aching erection slipped against her wet heat. “Fuck,” I gasped out. It was too much. The need to slam home, to give my body what it needed, to give into the sweet temptation being offered was so acute, so fierce, I trembled with the effort to hold back. God, I just needed a moment. I gritted my teeth. Damn, she felt so good. That small taste of how she’d feel. It was killing me. My muscles screamed with the effort to stay still. To move back. In a moment, I’d be able to say something. To move. I just needed a moment. We weren’t doing this tonight. We weren’t doing this ever.
I opened my mouth and before I could form words, Jazz’s mouth was locked on mine again. Her body rocked beneath me, her hands pushed on my back. “No,” I wanted to shout. “I just need a second.” Her tongue snaked against mine and she sucked, gently drawing me in, and that small action was my undoing.
I was already there, poised at her entrance. And it was too much. My shoulders bunched, my jaw clenched, and her tongue slipped into my mouth again and obliterated my last thread of self-control. I gave in.
I let go, and thrust inside her.
The way I’d been dying to.
And it was everything all at once. Every dream, every fantasy, every carefree laugh, and every moment of bliss.
She cried out, her body tensing up immediately.
I shook with the intensity of it all. The grip of her body. Everything in the world made sense if I could just be here. Be still, right here, with her loving me. Her warm body enveloping mine.
But the relief of being inside her was short-lived as need, blinding and lustful, clawed at me, urging me to move.
Jazz was tight and frozen around me. She grabbed my head and shoulders, and I heard her muffled voice. “So good,” she said.
Thank God, for a second I thought she was about to ask me to stop. Shit, we should stop.
“Jazz,” I managed but pleaded the words. “We shouldn’t have—”
Her hips moved.
She felt so fucking good.
Needing that first hit again, I pulled out and slammed home again.
Fuck.
Her hands roamed over me, and her movements, at first stiff, began to slowly work with mine. My mouth found hers again, like coming home.
We moved together, emotion rippling through me. I leaned up. I needed to see her face now that the initial overwhelming sensation of being inside her had morphed into a deeper burning need. God, the feel of her. Her hands ran over my shoulders, and into my hair, her legs urged at my hips.
Her eyelids blinked open and she stared up at me as I moved in her. Her eyes were glassy and wild with emotion, and I’d never seen her look so raw and so dazzling.
“Jazz,” I tried but had no words. But the look of her was too much. It seared into me, sending me hurtling toward the edge too soon. I could hardly breathe. Oh God, she felt so good. She was just too beautiful. Like she’d opened her body and her heart and I’d opened mine. I wanted to climb inside her soul and never leave. She was everything I’d never even thought about needing. I needed this. I needed her. I wanted to drown in her. I never wanted to breathe unless it was her air. I never wanted to leave her body. Ever.
“Oh holy shit!” Jazz’s voice, urgent and panicked, pierced my haze. Her eyes were rounded in fear, pouring ice cold water on my fire. But the fire was too hot. The sweet free fall into blinding ecstasy had overtaken me. I struggled like I could haul myself back from the rush and pulled away from her and from the fear in her eyes that I’d put there. It was too late.
It hit.
I hit.
I choked out a breath, my body shaking, as the burn shot through me and I spilled over her belly.
“Oh my God,” I managed.
Shame burned through me, filling the spaces of my heart and soul I’d just poured out. I rolled to the side.
“What the fuck did we just do?” I asked, not even aware I said the words aloud until I heard them reverberate around the small cabin. I wanted to breathe them back inside me. But the seriousness of what we’d almost just done, what we had done, what I had done, started a heavy wave of slick regret rolling through me. I wanted to be sick.
I’d come here to end things.
How could I have done this to her?
To myself?
“What every girl wants to hear.” Jazz’s words sliced through the air. “That was the perfect thing to say right after.”
What was wrong with me?
“And you don’t last very long, do you?” she went on. Her voice was vibrating, and I could only imagine it was from r
age. And hurt. I’d hurt her. She blinked those large beautiful eyes at me, and the churning in my gut kicked up a notch just as my heart swelled painfully with the need to crawl back over her and shield her. Shield her body. Shield her heart. From me. But also to do it again. To be inside her again. To make it good for her.
“Sorry. I just ...” Of course I hadn’t lasted that long, it was Jazz. Being lost inside her was the best thing I’d ever felt. Feeling her around me with nothing between us. God. I covered my eyes. “Oh my God, we—”
“Had unprotected sex.”
“Please tell me you’re on the pill.” I had to ask. But then I watched as my words seemed to turn into arrows that pierced her. She flinched and swallowed hard, shaking her head. Her lip trembled.
I wanted to gather her up.
I wanted to turn and run.
I lay there instead and jammed the heel of my palms into my eyes like I could buy myself a moment where this wasn’t happening. Where I wasn’t the asshole. Why hadn’t I stuck with my original plan to end this? God, she deserved so much better than me. She deserved someone who was going to stick around. The evidence of my lack of control was all over her, dripping off her belly, and like an animal, I felt pride and desire sweep through me all over again. And a pounding in my chest that was even more powerful. “Oh, Jesus,” I cursed.
“Pull it together, Joseph. You’re being a selfish prick right now.”
That’s exactly what I was. “Sorry.” What a stupid word.
Her eyes hardened. Her body shook.
“Shit,” I said, belatedly remembering she was fairly inexperienced. Chase notwithstanding. The thought of him having her like I just had made my jaw tense, but I shoved the feeling aside. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she snapped. “But I could really use a towel. There’s one in the galley.” She nodded in the direction, and I scooted quickly down the cushion. Seeing my abandoned shorts on the floor, I grabbed them like a life ring and pulled them on. I grabbed the small hand towel from a hook and tossed it to Jazz.
I watched as she wiped her belly with shaking hands and then yanked her shirt closed over her beautiful body. Hiding from me.