Love on the Sound

by Matthews, Jamie

  “I like kids,” Amy said easily. “You made quite an impression on them already. You’re a natural.”

  Ben grimaced, looking over at her pleadingly. “Please, no. Don’t say I’m a born teacher.”

  “Yep, that’s what you are. Probably be a good dad, too.” Amy threw her head back and laughed at his mildly terrified expression.

  “I’ll throw you in,” Ben warned. “You’ll have to swim to shore.”

  Amy got up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her head on his back. “I’m an excellent swimmer.”

  The afternoon flew by. While she’d kayaked around much of the Islands, sailing was faster, freer—and a lot less hard on her arms. She guided him on a route that took him around Shaw Island and then back to Lopez Sound, making a few detours along the way.

  When the sun began to sink into the sea, Ben dropped anchor in a quiet bay. He disappeared below deck and came back up with a blanket, which he spread across the deck. In short order, he laid out a gourmet picnic of roast chicken, orzo pasta salad, roasted vegetables and the bottle of wine from the vineyard. He even produced two candles, which he set securely into containers and lit.

  Charmed, Amy toasted him as she settled down on the blanket and sipped her wine. “This is lovely, Ben. I’ve had a wonderful day. I don’t play hooky very often.”

  “I figured.” Ben dished her up a plate and handed it over.

  They ate in companionable silence for a few moments.

  “So, it’s my turn now.” Ben grinned at her. “I told you about the many loves of mine.” Then his smile faded. “Sorry. Way to kill the mood. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “It’s okay,” Amy told him. “There’s not much to tell. You know Kevin was killed in an accident about four years ago. We’d been married for three years. Before him, I dated, of course. It’s not really as interesting as your story. Just the usual high school boyfriends, college guys. Normal stuff.”

  She took a sip of wine, a bite of chicken. “After he died, it was a few years before I began dating again. But, I haven’t had a serious relationship since then. I like my life, my friends. Sometimes, I think, it’d be nice to share it with someone. I always wanted kids.” She paused, wistful. “But…I also know that marriage isn’t easy. The honeymoon was over, and Kevin and I had our share of fights. If he’d lived…well.” She shrugged. “I think we could have made it, but we had a tough road in front of us. I was ready to have kids, but he was still really immersed in his career. Eventually he probably would have run for office, and how that would have meshed with having a family, I’m not sure.”

  “Kids involve a lot of juggling under the best of circumstances, let alone with that demanding of a career.”

  Amy nodded. Now that she thought about it, Ben’s career wasn’t that dissimilar—he was surely away from home the majority of the year doing movies.

  “When I met Kevin, I fell so in love. We were married within a year, with stars still in our eyes. It’s not that we took it lightly, at all. We just didn’t know what we were in for, what marriage really means.”

  “And, what does it mean?” asked Ben, refilling her glass.

  Amy thought for a second. “It means still loving the person you’re with even when you don’t like them very much because they’re being an ass.” She smiled a little when Ben laughed. “It means staying and fighting it out, when it would be easier to go. And, it means giving your heart, knowing full well you have everything to lose.”

  She blinked away sudden, surprising tears. “Wow. Enough wine for me. This is way too heavy for a first date.”

  “This isn’t our first date,” Ben protested. “That was the open mic night.”

  “That wasn’t a date.”

  “It was for me,” Ben said.

  “You didn’t kiss me goodnight,” Amy pointed out.

  Ben leaned over and kissed her long and slow. “I’m trying to make up for it now.” He sat back and polished off more of his pasta salad. “I like your definition of marriage,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not very romantic.”

  “I don’t know. Sticking by your spouse, no matter what? Seems pretty romantic to me.”

  “Seriously. How are you single?” Amy pointed her fork at him. “There must be something wrong with you.”

  “I sing show tunes on national TV,” Ben reminded her.

  “Oh, right. I forgot.” Amy laughed and then shook her head. For a moment there, she’d actually forgotten he was Ben Morrison, movie star. He was just a hot guy who was doing a damn fine job of seducing her. She looked at him across from her, his face shadowed in the candlelight and the soft glow of the setting sun. And still, he just looked like Ben to her. Ben who wore a silly tourist hoodie with an Orca whale on it, Ben who carried her laughing into Hannah’s bakery, Ben who at that very moment was pulling out a huge slice of chocolate cake from the deli bag.

  “Oh, no,” Amy protested.

  “We’ll share.” Ben cleaned up their plates, and then scooted closer, so their knees touched.

  The wind picked up, flickering the candle flames, and the sun hovered on the horizon, a thin red and orange flame. Ben speared a small bite of the cake and slid it between Amy’s lips. She closed her eyes briefly, the dense chocolate melting on her tongue. Opening her eyes, she found Ben watching her intensely. He slid his thumb across the corner of her mouth, wiping off a crumb, and Amy laid a hand on his wrist to stop him, drawing his thumb into her mouth, sucking hard and then biting down. Ben hissed out a breath.

  Amy took the fork from him and fed him a bite, staring into his eyes. She licked her lips, and he trailed his hand down her neck, slid it under her shirt to rest on her shoulder, his thumb slipping down to caress the very edge of her breast. Ben placed another bite of the cake on her tongue, and she swore she could taste every molecule. Her skin tingled, goosebumps rising as the cold breeze swept over her, and as his hand trailed lazily across her collarbone, his fingers gliding over the swell of her breasts before inching away again.

  She noticed she was leaning closer and closer to him, as if drawn by an invisible force, and she managed to feed him one more bite, watching his mouth, God, those lips, as he chewed. When his fingers slid down for one brief instant beneath the lacy fabric of her bra, she threw the fork aside and grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him toward her for a kiss. She swept his mouth with her tongue, tasting chocolate and wine and moaned when his tongue tangled with hers. Ben pulled her onto his lap, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning again when he angled up his hips so his erection pressed against her center.

  “Please,” she managed, her mouth drawn back to his, as desperate as if his kisses were the very air she needed to breathe.

  Dimly, she noticed his hands were shaking as they shoved up her shirt, and she triumphed in that before all rational thought fled when his mouth fastened on her nipple through the black, lacy bra. She groaned, thrusting her hips against him.

  “God,” he muttered, and in one fluid motion, stood up, still holding her wrapped around him. The boat rocked, and he swayed slightly, backing up against the wall of the cabin, where he took her other nipple, his hands squeezing her ass.

  “Inside,” he managed, putting her on the ground and backing her through the doorway. “Wait. God. Just wait.”

  He sprinted back to the deck, blew out the candles and then rushed her down the stairs. A full size bed took up one corner of the room, and they stumbled to the bed, yanking at each other’s clothes along the way. Ben stopped her after she shimmied out of her jeans, and gave her a long look as she stood there in the skimpy black bra that barely contained her breasts and wispy black panties.

  His eyes darkened to a deep midnight blue, and he hooked a finger into her panties, drawing her closer. “You’re so incredibly sexy,” he whispered and then groaned when he dipped a finger inside to find her hot and wet.

  Amy slid her hands down his muscled chest, drinking in his lon
g, hard legs, the calves sharply defined. Gold hair tapered down into a V into his boxers, and she ran her hands over his stomach, watching the muscles ripple. She tugged his underwear off and ran her tongue over her lips at the sight of him, so hard.

  “Fuck.” Ben yanked her bra off, then ripped her panties, throwing the pieces to the floor. She’d had men try to rip her underwear before, which she’d for some reason always found amusing, but now she was so far from being amused. “I wanted to go slow the first time,” he said, laving her breasts, nipples even as his fingers began a circular caress of her clit.

  Amy nipped at his neck. “God, no. I want you inside me. Now.” She pushed him onto the bed, climbing on and straddling him. Her breasts hung down near his face, and he continued to bite and lick, his fingers teasing her clit until she thought she might explode. She tried to slide down, intending to take him in her mouth, but he held her firmly in place, capturing her mouth again. She shuddered and moaned when he slid one finger ever so slowly inside her. He bit her lip then moved down to her breasts, sucking on one, then the other, and slid his finger out, replaced it with two, going deeper and deeper.

  She heard herself begging, pleading for him to not stop. Every cell in her body screamed for release, the slightest touch of his fingers on her skin reverberating through every nerve. Just as she felt her muscles tense, about to orgasm, he withdrew his fingers, and she moaned in protest. He smiled, flipped her on her back and grabbed a condom from the nightstand, sheathing himself.

  While Amy gripped his shoulders, he bent his head again, teasing her nipples to peak with his tongue even as his penis circled her clit. Ben continued his merciless assault, licking up and down her throat, biting down on her lower lip, and then nibbling his way back down to her breasts even as he entered her, one torturous inch at a time. His arms strained with effort, and he bit down on his lip, breath coming in fast pants, while Amy writhed beneath him. Even as she opened her mouth to beg him, to tell him she couldn’t take any more, he slid all the way inside her, then quickly slid out and slammed back in, deep and hard. Amy screamed as the force of her orgasm tore through her, the convulsions stronger than she’d ever felt before. The orgasm kept going on and on, milking him, drawing him deeper with each thrust, until Ben groaned, and pistoned his hips faster and faster.

  Amy lay stunned when the orgasm finally subsided. Ben leaned down to take her mouth with his, and she lost herself, the kiss hot, deep and all consuming.

  “Come with me, Amy,” he muttered in her ear.

  That was so not happening, Amy thought as she lay, utterly spent. But, then he bit down on the curve of her breast, nibbled his way down to bite her nipple, then her other nipple and she felt herself, amazingly, get wet again. She lifted her hips to his, and he slowed the pace so that he was pushing himself so deep inside her she felt the force of it throughout her body. He was, she realized, going for her g-spot, so she angled her hips to help him, and oh God. After a few strokes, he hit it, and she found herself writhing again.

  Ben pressed in deep, then held himself there, grinding against her, his arms trembling. Amy opened herself wide, and he slid out, slow, then in again, slow. Without warning, he once again slammed into her, but this time as deep as he could go, and God, she’d thought the first orgasm was good, but he began thrusting himself so hard and fast that she lost all sense of reason and just arched back, scoring her nails across his back and gripping his ass. She cried out in triumph when he let out a guttural moan and watched through half closed lids as he lost himself in his own orgasm.

  He collapsed on top of her, and they lay there, limp and breathing hard. Amy licked her lips and tasted salt and wine. She breathed Ben’s scent, a mixture of sea air and the woodsy soap she’d stocked in his bathroom. With a grunt, Ben rolled them both over so she was lying on top of him. Amy laid her head on his chest, while he stroked her hair, and the bed gently rocked on the waves.

  “Let’s stay just like this for the next 10 years or so,” she murmured when she finally caught her breath and felt the rumble of his laugh reverberate through his chest under her cheek.

  “Mmmm.” He tightened his arms around her, his voice sleepy. “My plan was to explore every inch of your body. In fact, I believe I said I’d make you come over and over.”

  “You made me scream,” Amy reminded him, too satisfied to feel remotely embarrassed. “I’m not really a multiple orgasm kind of girl.”

  “You came twice, and I wasn’t even trying.” Ben sounded smug.

  Amy lifted herself up to eye him. “Oh, really. Big talk.”

  “Hmmm.” Ben kissed her, then reached down to deal with the condom. Amy rolled off him, and he got up and went into the small galley kitchen. Amy took the bottle of water he brought back and gulped it down, feeling as if she’d just run a mile. If only running made her feel as if happy rainbows were beaming out of her fingertips, then she might take it up. He got back into bed and grinned at her. “So. It’s dark. I can turn on the motor and the headlight, and we can make our way back to On the Sound. Or, we can stay here all night while I make you scream. Again. Over and over.”

  He sounded very confident.

  Amy looked at him, his dark blonde hair mussed, an unshaven shadow across his jaw, the muscles in his arms and stomach shadowed in the dim light put out by the small wall sconce. She trailed a hand down his chest and then looked pointedly at his penis.

  “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that, big boy.”

  He grinned and sat up, grabbing her to cuddle her close. “I like you, Amy Malone.”

  “I like you, too, Ben Morrison,” she said.

  “So, we stay on the boat then.” He took the bottle of water out of her hands. “Challenge accepted.”

  He pushed her back down on the pillow with one hand while she laughed. “You’re such a guy. I mean, seriously. It’s not a competition. It’s—” she stopped when he kissed her stomach and began making his way down. His tongue lightly teased her still sensitive flesh, and she shivered, arousal sweeping through her all over again, her nipples already hardening. When his tongue slid over her clit, she moaned. He bit gently in circles around her clit, sucking after each bite, and her breath quickened.

  His tongue slid inside, and she arched up to him.

  “You were saying?” Ben lifted his head and licked his lips.

  “Um.” Amy felt her eyes cross with desire. “Never mind. Carry on.” She waved a hand at him.

  He laughed. “As you wish. Hmmm. Let’s just start all the way over, shall we?” He bent down to press an open mouthed kiss to her center and then moved up to kiss her, his hands barely caressing the underside of her breasts.

  “Oh, God,” Amy managed, closing her eyes. After a blissfully torturous and thorough exploration of her body, he made her orgasm again with the lightest touch of his hand. The next time, with his tongue, she screamed. Again. By the time he had finished, she had come four times.

  But, as she reached for him again, she was definitely not done. Her lips curved in a smile. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 18

  Amy sat on the deck of the sailboat as they slid through the water in the early morning light. She stretched her arms up toward the sky, feeling loose-limbed and relaxed, if a little sore. By all rights, she should be tired, since neither one of them had gotten much sleep, but instead energy hummed through her body.

  She looked at where Ben stood steering the boat back to On the Sound and couldn’t stop a foolish smile from spreading across her face. The man was so damn hot, standing there in his worn jeans and silly Orca hoodie, stubble shadowing his face, hair still mussed from her fingers. For the moment, he was all hers. In the cold light of morning, it was hard to believe she’d spent the night having wild sex with movie star Ben Morrison—until he met her gaze and smiled, his eyes intense like he wanted to get her naked yet again.

  It was unreal.

  On the Sound came into view, and Amy stood up, ready to jump on the dock when it
got nearer. They’d both woken up starving, and since there was little to no food on the boat, they’d agreed to head back to the inn for breakfast first before Ben took the boat back to the marina. As always, Amy assessed On the Sound as the boat got closer to shore, checking the roofline, the paint, scanning for any signs of maintenance. And, enjoying the lift of happiness she always felt when she returned after time away.

  After they’d docked, they walked up the lawn, Ben wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Did I mention last night was off the charts amazing?” he asked.

  “Only about a hundred times,” Amy replied, looking up at him and laughing. “But it never gets old.”

  “I’m going to head up for a shower before breakfast.” He held the door open for her after she’d unlocked it.

  “Me too.”

  Amy started up the stairs and then arched her eyebrow at him when he kept going past his floor. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To the shower. With you.” He smiled at her, all innocence.

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “There’s a giant hole in my stomach where my breakfast should be, and I get very grumpy without food. No shower sex.”

  He grabbed her around the waist and nuzzled her neck. “Okay.”

  “I mean it.” Even to herself, Amy didn’t sound very convincing. And, the gasp she let out when he slid his hand under her shirt to caress her breast didn’t help.

  “We’ll conserve water.” Ben held out his hand and pulled her up the stairs. “It’s the sensible thing to do.”

  Amy rolled her eyes at him but followed him up. She unlocked the door to her living quarters and let him in. He looked around with interest, before following her into the bedroom. Right away, he zeroed in on the pictures lining her dresser.

  She watched, a little nervous when, saying nothing, he picked up a photo of Kevin and her on their wedding day. What was he thinking as he studied the photo, eyes intent?

  “You would have made it. I can see the love in both of you,” he said at last, setting the photo down. He walked over to take her face in his hands, smiled into her eyes. “Kevin was a lucky man.”