Sun-Kissed

by Sierra Dafoe

  Don’t you? he whispered. Lifting her hand, he kissed her knuckles, then flattened her palm against the steady heat of his chest. Don’t you have at least some idea, Jules?

  Okay, maybe she did, she admitted. The nightclub. The hotel bar. It wasn’t just the sex, the sheer intensity of his desire—it was the way he’d shaped those experiences for her, plucking almost unacknowledged fantasies from the depths of her subconscious and giving her the option of making them real.

  Not for his own satisfaction. For hers.

  Why would I do that, Jules? His gaze held her, pinning her, starting a strange, fluttering hope to life deep inside her. Why would I go to all that trouble?

  Why? Because…

  Because I love you, you ninny. His smile was as gentle as the hand stroking her cheek. Her heart clenched, a curious blend of pain and ecstasy knifing through it.

  “Then why can’t I keep you?” she wailed, and immediately buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, hiding from his crystalline gaze.

  He held her tenderly, his hand gliding over and over the tangled curls of her disheveled hair. “I wish you could, Jules. I really wish you could.”

  She yanked herself from his grip, folding her arms around herself and huddling miserably against the passenger door. “Yeah, right. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  She more than half-expected him to stiffen in fury, the way he’d done back in the hotel bar when she’d made the mistake of comparing him to Kyle. She waited for his brow to crease in the same black rage he’d shown her then, but it didn’t. He studied her thoughtfully, making no move to touch her. After a moment, he asked, “Would you rather none of this had happened?”

  “Yes,” she muttered sullenly. But she was lying. Lying, and being childish on top of it. Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out on a heavy gust and shook her head. “No.”

  “I’m glad.” There was no triumph in his voice, none of his slightly superior amusement. He reached out, wrapping his warm fingers around her hand, stroking his thumb steadily across the tops of her knuckles. “Even if you could keep me, it wouldn’t be forever. Nothing is forever, Jules. Not even me.” His mouth turned up at that, in a small, sad smile. “So is it worth having things, anyway? Even though you know you can’t keep them?”

  She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She couldn’t help it. Turning, she burrowed her way back into his waiting arms, felt them close around her, strong and protective. “Yes,” she whispered. Because it was worth it, even if they had only one night together.

  And maybe, just maybe, only having one night made it all the more precious.

  She felt his arms tighten around her as if he’d heard her thought. Which, of course, he had.

  Then let’s make tonight everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

  The thought was almost a growl, deep in her mind, his tone rough with his own regrets and firm with resolve. Cupping her face between his hands, he closed his mouth over hers with a hunger that left her gasping.

  Chapter Seven

  Wow, she thought dazedly when he at last released her. She felt almost bruised by his kisses, light-headed and dizzy. Colors flashed before her eyes as she fought to catch her breath, colors that whirled and spun and…

  “Oh!” She bolted upright in her seat, staring out the windshield.

  Before them, Ocean Boulevard was alive with color. Every hotel sign flashed, their neon designs dancing in exuberant display. People crowded the sidewalks, laughing, strolling along in couples and groups. In the distance, she could see a veritable blaze of lights, and the vast, candy-colored circle of the Ferris wheel rotating grandly against a star-strewn sky.

  “Oh, Sonny.” She was almost wordless with wonderment, her gaze drinking it all in raptly. She hardly noticed as he quietly opened his door, circling the Mercedes to help her out onto the sidewalk. She stared, her eyes returning again and again to the majestic sight of the Ferris wheel slowly turning, its beams and guywires seemingly made out of light. Excitement bubbled up inside her, and before she knew it, she’d grabbed Sonny’s hand, tugging him as impatiently as a child almost before he’d had a chance to retrieve the takeout bag from the floor of the car. “Oh, can we ride it? Please?”

  His face as he tossed his head back, laughing in a wash of neon illumination, was the handsomest thing she’d ever seen. Folding her arm through his, he led her through the bustling crowds and out onto the boardwalk.

  The smell of salt water was sharper here, tangier, competing with the scents of popcorn and hot dogs and the sweet, fragile aroma of cotton candy. He bought her a stick of it, fluffy pink and enormous, laughing as she dragged him from one shop display to the next. Racks of water globes filled with glitter sparkling around gaily painted seahorses. Endless racks of cotton T-shirts with vacation mottos on them. He bought her a Myrtle Beach baseball cap, yanking the brim playfully down over her eyes, then kissed her soundly when she shoved it back up to glare at him.

  Somehow, between kisses, their feet found their way down the weathered planks of the boardwalk until they stood before the Ferris wheel. It rose into the night, its lights flashing and blinking, each double seat rising and falling like some magical throne.

  Sonny looked at her, his eyes gleaming. With a wink, he led her up the ramp and handed her the takeout bag as he paid for their tickets. The Ferris wheel slowed, clanking and glittering, until at last she slid into a seat with Sonny beside her. The safety bar clanged shut, the music started again, and finally, finally, the wheel was lifting her up, higher and higher, out of the swirl and shouts of the crowd and into the cool, salt-scented night.

  The ocean spread out before her, glimmering with moonlight. Sonny’s arm rested around her shoulders, holding her close. At her feet, the takeout bag sent out a soft glow of warmth, and her stomach growled again as Sonny pulled her in for one more kiss.

  She grimaced at the sound, and he laughed as he released her. “Better break into our picnic before it gets cold,” he said, lifting the bag. He slid one Styrofoam container onto her lap, fished out the other, then drew out a bottle of red wine and a corkscrew. She braced both his dinner and her own as he worked out the cork, grinning at her as it slid out with a small, satisfying pop. Then he dug back into the bag and produced two delicate wineglasses. Pouring deftly, he handed one to her.

  They feasted slowly, laughing and talking, feeding each other bites of impossibly delicious steak, dripping with juices and so tender that the plastic knives in the bag cut through it cleanly. They ate asparagus spears with their fingers, taking turns licking the melted butter from each other’s fingertips; dug ravenously into the fluffy white baked potatoes slathered in sour cream; laughed as they struggled to share a container of savory onion soup without spilling it everywhere.

  And all the while, the night rotated around them, flashing with splendor, alive with colors and moonlight and music and the vast, silver expanse of the endless ocean.

  “Oh my God, I think I just gained ten pounds,” Julia moaned happily. Sonny grinned.

  “Good.” Shoveling the empty containers and napkins and wineglasses back into the bag, he set it down between his feet and leaned back, drawing her to him. Full and content, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart as the Ferris wheel spun them slowly between earth and sky.

  It was such a perfect moment. The murmurous roar of the boardwalk seemed to fade away, the whistles and dings from the arcade drifting into a distant, meaningless hum, until there was only the soft whisper of the ocean wind—and Sonny’s warmth beside her, as constant and unwavering as the heat from a furnace.

  It was, she admitted, the best moment of her life. “I wish I could keep this,” she whispered, her face pressed close against Sonny’s chest. His arms tightened around her, and Julia tilted her head to peer up at him.

  His profile was as handsome as ever, classical and chi
seled, his expression quiet as he looked out over the ocean. But his eyes… Julia felt her heart clench at the yearning within them, a yearning that seemed both ancient and as vast as the night around them.

  He held her tightly, almost fiercely, his gaze seeming to challenge the distant line of the horizon, as if he would dare even Fate itself to interrupt this moment. As if his longing to hold on to it was even deeper than hers.

  He looked so lonely, she realized. Powerful beyond belief. Surreally handsome. And so lonely it almost broke her heart.

  God, who was he? What was he? She didn’t know—but the sight of his face above her, his features rigidly controlled, his eyes shadowed with a yearning so poignant it made her breath catch on a sob, was more than she could stand. Straightening, she turned his face toward her, pinning his gaze with her own.

  “Sonny.”

  His eyes widened slightly as if he was startled by her intensity, or merely surprised that she’d caught his unguarded expression. Then something inside them—some deep inner barrier—seemed to crumble, and he merely stared at her, letting her see straight into him, into the ancient, endless solitude in the depths of his soul…

  “Oh, Sonny,” she breathed, feeling everything inside her clench like her heart, wanting—no, needing—to touch that loneliness, to soothe it, to heal it. Holding her breath, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, she leaned toward him even as he bent his head to hers. Their kiss was as soft as just-unfurled rose petals. Lovely and delicate as a butterfly’s wings. As fragile and fleeting as life itself…

  Sonny’s breath caught on a ragged sob, and he crushed her to him, his kisses growing more demanding. With a half-voiced cry, she pressed herself even closer, desperate to savor every second, to wring every last drop of joy and closeness and passion from this moment. They clung to each other, their mouths seeking, tasting, their tongues twining blindly, hungrily. A seagull cried in the darkness. The ocean breeze played over her skin. Time itself seemed to stop, hanging suspended as they kissed.

  Then Sonny drew back slightly, his chest heaving, the look in his eyes both wild and ravenous. He stared at her, his gaze questioning. She didn’t even try to hide the longing inside her, the need that throbbed in her nerves, her gut, aching in her heart as well as her groin.

  I want you, Sonny. Now. Please. I want to be alone with you.

  As if her words had shattered the last of his restraint, Sonny pulled her to him, claiming her mouth again. She melted under the onslaught of his tongue, her body limp and throbbing as he savaged her mouth, devouring her with a single-minded intensity that made her head spin. Her hands slid to his shoulders, feeling the hard, massive muscles beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt as he tightened his arms around her, flattening her breasts against his broad chest.

  He kissed her until she gasped, tearing her mouth away from his long enough to suck in a breath—and then gasped again as she realized the ocean was gone. The Ferris wheel was gone. The hard, cold metal of the seat beneath them was now the firm softness of a bed, glimmering slightly in the darkness of a large, opulent hotel room.

  “Sonny? What…?” That was all she got out before his mouth claimed hers again, kissing her ravenously. He pressed her back, down onto the bed, his mouth moving from her lips to her throat, whispering against her skin. Which was when she realized their clothes had disappeared too.

  No questions, Jules. Not now. Not when there’s so little time left.

  There was a desperation in his tone that sent a pang through her. God, she hated the idea of him leaving, hated it—but there was nothing she could do. Nothing he could do either. She knew it. She clung to him, feeling the solid nudge of his erection against her hip. His mouth moved over her skin, tracing the column of her throat, licking and tasting. Closing her eyes, she concentrated firmly on the sensation, trying to push away all thought of the morning.

  Of leaving….

  His mouth slid lower, nuzzling her breasts. She let her hands roam over his shoulders, caressing and exploring. His skin was like velvet, smooth and warm against her palms. The muscles beneath were like liquid iron. She felt them flex as he bent his head over her, his mouth closing around the tip of one full, aching breast. She heard him moan, the sound like the hungry yearning of a starving beast, and fire shot straight to her core as he tugged at it, sucking. Her back arched involuntarily, and she felt her toes curl. Growling, he released her nipple and slid his mouth to the other one.

  He went back and forth between them, tasting, suckling, nipping lightly until she was squirming below him. He kept himself propped on his elbows, his massive body covering her, just barely touching. The smooth glide of his silken skin against hers was driving her crazy, and she strained beneath him, pressing her breasts up, her hips, trying to deepen the contact. She felt him grin, his lips moving against the swell of her breast. Rolling onto his side beside her, he trailed one slow hand down her side, tracing her curves.

  And damned if it didn’t feel exactly like his touch had on her balcony. A touch he’d never explained, but there was no more denying it—he had been touching her. The sensation rasped against her skin, smooth and searing, tracing lines of fire along her hip, across her belly, between her… Oh!

  Julia gasped as his fingers found her slit. They glided between her swollen outer lips, parting them and pressed gently inside. She flailed, pinioned between his fingers inside her and the hot, hungry tug of his mouth at her breast. Those twin sensations seared her, holding her trapped between them, her body quivering like a fish on a hook as he tugged and stroked, harder, faster… His thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing it firmly, and she practically arced off the bed as fire speared through her, pushing her to the edge…

  Come for me, Jules, he whispered deep in her mind. His tongue flicked her taut nipple. His thumb stroked her harder. She panted, her thighs spread, her body trembling…and then she was peaking, cries spilling from her throat, her juices flowing over and around the fingers thrusting inside her, plundering her slit.

  She slumped back, panting, and Sonny lifted his head. The only illumination came from the enormous glass doors behind him, doors that stood open onto a balcony still painted with the last, faded light of the setting moon. In that thin illumination, she could just make out the lines of his face, the strong, weathered features. Over his shoulder, she could see the sky outside, its vast blackness dotted with pale, distant stars.

  His gaze drank her in slowly: her soft, splayed thighs, her curvy belly, her full, aching breasts… Raising his hand, he traced her lips lightly, and she could smell the sweet/salt muskiness of her own juices on his fingers.

  Oh, Jules, he murmured. I truly don’t wish to leave you.

  The heart-deep regret in his tone was too much for her. She couldn’t stand it—he sounded so sad. Pushing on his massive shoulder, she rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him, kissing him with everything she had. He tensed a moment, startled, then dropped his head back, his eyelids falling shut. Kissing him gently, she took his right hand between her own and raised it to her breast. As his fingers closed over it, his erection jerked, brushing against her belly. In the darkness, she saw him swallow.

  God, he had given her so much. In one night, he had led her past all her inner demons, proving to her—letting her prove to herself—that she was special. Strong. Sexy. Valuable. A little kinky sometimes, when she felt like it. The thought made her smile into the darkness. And brave. Brave enough not to let herself be broken. Not to surrender because of one bad experience. After all, wasn’t that what coming to Myrtle Beach had really been about? About not giving in? About trying to move forward?

  And she had, she realized. Not just past Kyle, but past all the self-doubt that had given him such a hold over her too. She was special, damn it. Far too special to let any man ever treat her like that again.

  And the man below her, with his eyes closed in the darkness… He had given her that
.

  Rocking back on her hips, Julia looked down at him, studying him slowly. Letting her fingers trace his closed eyelids, his lips, the strong, proud lines of his cheekbones and jaw. God, he was so beautiful. So handsome. So kind.

  Her Sonny.

  As if she’d spoken his name aloud, his eyes opened. His gaze flicked from his hand, still curved around her breast, to her face. She smiled slightly, holding his gaze, and shifted above him till his cock pressed between her thighs.

  Like everything else about him, it was solid. Warm. Larger than life. And yearning, with a neediness she saw reflected in his clear blue eyes, to be inside her. He swallowed again, holding himself still, and slowly, slowly, she lowered herself onto it.

  The sensation was exquisite. Amazing. The feel of him entering her, inch by inch, was incredible. He filled her completely—more than filled her. His shaft was so thick, it made her shiver in delight. She could see his jaw clench, his eyes pinning her, full of sensation. His other hand came up, large, strong and capable, to cup her breast.

  She let her gaze trail over his torso, following the rips and ridges of his rock-hard abdomen, the breadth of his chest, the dusting of soft gold hairs across the rolling muscle. His nipples were taut, and she brushed her fingers over them. He inhaled sharply as his cock flexed inside her.

  God, she wanted to stay like this forever. She rode him, slowly and deliberately, easing herself up and down his shaft in a smooth, steady rhythm. His eyelids dropped shut, his face going lax, his head tilting back as he swallowed again. His hands moved gently on her breasts, then skimmed down her sides to her hips, caressing her over and over as she teased him, giving back with her body every ounce of tenderness and caring he’d shown to her.

  His cock jerked, swelling even thicker, and he clutched her hips hard. He held her there, his cock buried deep within her, his body straining. His face was a mask of mingled agony and delight as he fought to contain his impending climax.