The Widows of Sea Trail (The Widows of Sea Trail Trilogy)

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  I remembered seeing him and having feeling things I hadn’t felt in years, and I remembered thinking about him for hours after. And I felt ashamed. I was guilty of more than he was. I had even created fantasies in my mind where he was the star.

  “Cat?”

  When I didn’t respond, he reached over and took my hand again.

  I looked from our clasped hands up into his eyes. And I couldn’t lie. “Yeah, I put you in the ‘would do’ column. I even remember being jealous of the woman you were going home to.”

  “Well, technically that night I was going home to be with my sisters, and to put together that damned nautilus machine.”

  “So you bought it, huh?”

  “Yeah, it sits between two others. I use it when I’m frustrated, when business concerns aren’t playing out the way I expect, or when I vote yea and the woman doesn’t.” His smile was warm and genuine, tipped up at the corners from humor.

  “Is that often?”

  “Ah, the safe sex questions.” He picked up his wineglass and drained it. “I think this is going to call for more wine.” He signaled the waitress and settled back into his chair. “Okay, you first. How many men have you said yea to?”

  “One.”

  I saw the glass jerk in his hand as he set it down. He had to use deft fingers to keep it from toppling. “Wow that was a pretty quick conversation.”

  “On my part.”

  “Mmmm. Uh, Linda where’s that wine?” he called, jokingly.

  We never did get back to that conversation. Linda came over and we talked about her daughter and how she was surviving after Katrina had devastated her home in New Orleans. And then about the tornado that had come a year later as if they hadn’t had enough to contend with. Then about the body found in the dumpster on the plantation. By the time we had shared a glass of wine with Linda, and Matt had paid the bill, I had forgotten about the final tally and just how many times the yeas might have become done deals.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sex on The Beach, It’s Not Just a Cocktail

  “What do you say to a walk on the beach, sans high

  heels of course?” Matt asked as he walked me to his car at the end of the parking lot. The wine had left me feeling mellow, and his thumb stroking my upper arm as he led me across the gravel was so soothing and sensual that I felt a little tipsy. How could a walk on the beach not improve this feeling? I nodded.

  “Which option are you using this time,” he asked when he opened the passenger door for me. “And I don’t recommend the last one you used as there’s a car coming and I don’t relish the idea of sharing the view of that lavender thong with anyone else.”

  “It wasn’t a thong.”

  “Don’t lie to me, it most definitely was.”

  “Well, okay. I suppose it was.” I was a bit unnerved

  now. I hadn’t thought I’d hiked my dress up quite that high. Damn! He’d seen my ass, and just what had he thought about that? First, what had he thought about me for flashing it, and second, what had he thought of it? I had worked hard to get it toned and firm again after putting my body and its need for exercise on hold for so long. Had all those squats Nicole made me do done their magic and tightened my “gleuts”?

  I turned to tell him which option I had decided on, but he clearly had other ideas. His hand cupped my cheek and his lips descended with all the speed and accuracy of an eagle with its prey in sight. After the initial shock of feeling his warm lips enfolding mine, I must admit, I became a bit scared. The passion he unleashed was heady as he practically devoured my lips. I felt his tongue enter my mouth, quite forcibly really as I hadn’t been ready for it. Then the kiss that was close to being brutal, if you can imagine that in a good way, became soft and silky, and inviting. I was encouraged by his probing tongue to join in the action, and together we stroked and teased and learned how wonderful a kiss could be between two people who were very close to saying, Yea, they would—most definitely.

  Then as abruptly as the kiss had begun, it ended and I found myself being swooped up into his arms and settled against his chest. His chest was solid and hard, and as my hand found purchase against his shirt, I remembered the day I had seen him running with his dog. I had so wanted to feel that chest. Now I was actually touching it. I moved my hand from one amazingly well-developed pec to the other. Then I looked up into his face and saw his jaw steeled against the pleasure of my touch.

  I watched as his eyes closed to absorb the sensation of my exploring hand. Life was good, I thought as the planes of his face visibly hardened from the escalating desire I was making him experience. Then he bent and effortlessly lowered me into the seat while whispering in my ear, “This is option five, no view of lavender panties to make me hard and throbbing. But with this option I can kiss your throat and tell you that I love your hair that way and that I love having you in my arms like this. But if you don’t remove your hand from my chest, you’re going to be very sorry I took the ‘vette instead of the Escalade. That gearshift is rather hard to work around.”

  I grazed his nipple with my fingernail before reluctantly taking my hand away and had to smile at his sharp intake of breath.

  I heard him say, “You don’t play fair,” as he straightened and closed the door. While he walked around the car I wondered if I had made a mistake teasing him like that, he didn’t seem like the type who would let that ride without retribution.

  We clack, clack, clacked over the boards of the rustic old bridge leading to Sunset Beach, hopeful, as everyone was these days that we’d make it over and back without any trouble. The quaint outdated bridge was dilapidated at best, and breakdowns were frequent now as the wood decayed, cables broke, and the floating pontoons leaked air. We had been on the slate for a new bridge for many years, but one thing or another had led to significant delays and each season we found ourselves in long lines to cross from the mainland to the barrier island of Sunset Beach. It wasn’t too bad at night; once the sun set the beach emptied and only those staying on the island remained, and a lot of them left the island for the entertainments of Myrtle Beach.

  It was a beautiful night, the stars were bright, the half moon was covered with a light haze, and a breeze that tantalized the senses carried the fragrance of tropical oleander bushes. It was times like these that I really missed Stephen, he had loved this view and we had spent many hours kayaking to get closer to it.

  As we drove over the causeway, admiring the stillness and serenity of the marshes, Matt took my hand and brought it to his lips. Kissing each finger in turn, I was surprised to hear him say, “So, tell me about Stephen. What was he like?”

  In my mind it was so out of character for a man on his way to a possible conquest to stop and invite trouble in the form of an unbeatable competitor, that I didn’t know what to say at first.

  “I know you must be thinking of him now, this kind of place does that to people.”

  I gave a great sigh and took my hand back. I couldn’t talk about Stephen with Matt nibbling on me, no matter how wonderful it felt.

  “He was kind, and fun to be with, and so caring. He was interested in anything I was interested in, and he loved being with people. We used to cook together. We’d spend the whole day just getting ready to have a group of friends over, making sure everything was ready so that when they got to the house we could enjoy them. He loved to laugh, play games, or just chide his friends over their lousy golf games.”

  “What was he like with you?”

  “You mean was he good in bed?”

  “Well, you can tell me that if you’d like, especially any pointers he discovered along the way, but mostly I meant was he romantic, did he take you dancing or on long walks just to be alone with you?”

  “Yes, he was romantic. When he went to the grocery store he often bought me flowers. He brought me coffee in the morning when he got up first, he took me shagging and to the movies, and always remembered my birthday and our anniversary without any hinting.”

  �
�What kind of presents did he bring you?”

  “Oh the usual, big boxes of chocolates, gold anklets and earrings, perfume. And a kayak.” I smiled wistfully, remembering his futile effort to wrap it.

  “He sounds like a wonderful man.”

  “He was.”

  “And are you ready to let him go? Because I can’t compete with his memory, I won’t even try. And I can tell you now that I don’t do well with sharing. I never have.”

  There was silence for a few moments while he waited at the stop sign for traffic to pass, then he surprised me by turning right. The public parking and the gazebo were straight ahead; instead he was heading toward the west end of the island.

  I looked over at him, the lights from the dash made his face even more handsome than ever. The shadows played over his chiseled features, shading the strength of his jaw and the fine line of his nose and brow. He looked over at me and gave me a half-hearted smile.

  “I mean, I don’t expect you to forget him, I just don’t want to feel like I’m intruding or that I shouldn’t be with you because you’re thinking you’d rather be with him than me. Because this isn’t just about sex, although I expect that’s going to happen rather soon for us. I want your dance card for all the dates you promised your mom and then some. I want you to tell her not to worry, that you’ve found somebody to be with.”

  I didn’t know what to say. His words had taken my breath away, and blew every clear thought I’d had in my mind away, too. Just what was he saying?

  “I like you Cat and I think we’re going to be good together,” he said as he pulled beneath a beach house and stopped the car. The engine died and suddenly it was very quiet. Was he taking me to bed right now? Was that what all the provocative talk had been about, getting me into bed? Was that why he had brought me here, to this beach house? I noticed a sign on the side of the house that said “Seaduction.” How appropriate I thought.

  “Where are we?”

  “A friend of mine owns this house. I prefer parking here, it’s further down the beach, so it’s more private, and I can leave my stuff in the car when I come to jog on the beach. I’ve left some beach chairs here too, so that makes it pretty handy. And right now just before the season the houses on either side are vacant so the beach is pretty private. C’mon the beach access is right beside the house, let’s go kick up some sand.”

  Okay, so maybe this was all about just walking on the beach. I really didn’t want to think that pretty speech was just a prelim to getting me to sleep with him tonight, beach house or no. I kicked off my shoes. It felt wonderful to have those damn things off my feet, my toes rejoiced as I curled and uncurled them.

  When he came around and opened my door, he reached for my hand while using his other one to screen his eyes.

  “Funny, very funny,” I said as I let him pull me out of the deep bucket seat.

  He pulled me into his chest and bent to kiss me on the forehead. Wow, I thought, flatfooted, there really was quite a height difference. I looked up and saw the underside of his jaw.

  “You really are tall.”

  He chuckled, “No, you really are short.” Then he grabbed my hand and led me over to the access. The sand felt cool under my feet and I forgot all about my cramped toes.

  We walked hand-in-hand along the winding path then over a wooden bridge that spanned the dunes as they meandered to the edge of the beach. Matt removed his loafers and rolled up the cuffs of his pants and we headed for the ocean.

  “So, did we decide whether you’re ready for a relationship yet, or whether you still want to cocoon with your memories? ‘Cause I need to know.”

  I looked up at him and frowned, “Why?”

  “ ‘Cause I think I could fall for you if I’m not careful. And I’m a man who has a lot to lose.”

  “Really?” I said. But his words had warmed me all over. He said he could fall for me. Part of me fell for him, right then and there.

  “Really.” He pulled me close and kissed me with so much passion it made me wonder how I’d lived without this feeling for so long.

  I felt his fingers delve into the curls at the nape of my neck as he positioned his hand to hold my head so he could angle me the way he wanted me. He lifted his mouth, stared deeply into my eyes and went back for more, careful to slant his mouth in the opposite direction this time, as if savoring from another angle would sate him. It clearly didn’t. He came back for more and more, each time, lingering longer, going deeper and sighing with exasperation when he couldn’t seem to get enough. I can’t tell you how heady a feeling that was. The man oozed sex appeal and here he was in a near panic because he couldn’t get enough of me. I was gone. I wanted nothing more than to be laid in the sand and then well . . . to be laid in the sand.

  He pulled away and we were both out of breath. His eyes captured mine and they asked the question I had been waiting for, the where is this heading question. This was fifth date stuff and we were technically only on the second one. But before I could answer, he muttered, “I can’t do this.” He raked his hand through his thick, wavy hair and turned from me.

  “Talk to me Cat, tell me you’re not ready for this.”

  “But I think I am,” I whispered.

  “It’s too soon, we both know it’s too soon, but God, I want you.”

  “I want you, too. I can’t help it. You are bringing my whole body back to life—with your words, with your touches. I don’t seem to have a choice here; you are making my body surrender whether I want it to or not. My brain is saying one thing, but my body is screaming ‘Submit, damn you!’”

  He turned back around and grabbed me by my arms. The look in his eyes was furious, yet pleading.

  “You will submit to me because you want to, not because you have to.”

  I reached up and fingered the curling hair at his temple. “Matt, look at you, the devil had to have chosen this face because God would never have trusted it, you are temptation and desire all rolled into one. I’m not strong enough to resist you, don’t ask me to be.” Then I brought his head down to mine and I kissed him as thoroughly as I knew how. His groan of pleasure had a twinge of annoyed pain to it that boosted my confidence. It had been a long time since I had tried to pleasure a man and I wondered who had the upper hand now. When his hand moved and cupped my breast it was as if I had dropped the reins and the horses had started running. He could do anything he wanted to me, right now, right here, on this very beach.

  He kneaded and squeezed my breast and desire crested over me just as the waves were cresting over each other just a few yards from us. I needed him to pull my strap down and to take my nipple into his mouth. I needed it so badly that I wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He hefted and firmly cupped one heaving breast being very careful not to involve the nipple at all. Then he kissed my neck and moving to my ear with wonderful, lingering kisses, he whispered, “I’m only going to have half of you tonight. And fortunately for you, it’s going to be your lower half.”

  At first I didn’t know what he meant, but I didn’t hesitate when he grabbed my hand and pulled me after him, running back toward the car. We got to a part of the wooden access bridge that was shielded from the houses by the dense underbrush of the dunes. Then he stopped and leaned me against the rail, and with both hands cupping my face, kissed me deeply. His tongue snaked in and searched my mouth frantically as if needing to feed on some elusive flavor. Then he encouraged my tongue to join his and to accept his rhythm of quick, long strokes. Strokes that excited me so much that I wanted to whip my dress off and fall on the coarse boards we were standing on. He must have had the same thought for suddenly he broke away and knelt in front of me. He lifted my dress, bunched it at my waist and told me to, “Hold this,” in a voice that commanded. Then with his hands on my hips he skimmed my panties down my thighs until they were at my ankles. “Step out,” he barked, and obediently, I did. Hell, I would have done anything at this point. I was throbbing and all the parts of me that had been neglected for so long w
ere alive and thrumming. I was not idling, I was revving and I needed some relief. It came one second later when his hands cleared the way and his mouth clamped onto me. My knees collapsed and he took that opportunity to lift me higher onto the rail and to open me for his mouth. I vaguely remember trying to protest, although why I don’t know, but thank God he didn’t stop.

  The wind was whipping my dress behind me and giving anyone on the next access, a full block away, a glimpse of my derriere and quite a show. I didn’t see anyone on any of the accesses and even the beach seemed fairly deserted, but really, I truly didn’t care. I arched my back, meeting his ravenous mouth with eager abandon. His hair, being tossed by the wind, caressed my thighs. His fingers dug in, finding purchase on my thighs while he nuzzled and rooted, and molded his lips to my core. His mouth opened and he took and took, while the sea breeze buffeted everything around us. He fed on me as if he would die if he couldn’t taste all of me. His tongue darted into my most intimate places, lapping with an urgency I had never experienced. When his hands forced me even wider and his mouth burrowed deeper between my thighs I thought I was dying. Then his kisses became even more frenzied and his lips, so obviously skilled in this type of maneuver, found the ridge he was seeking. With the steady pressure of his mouth clamping and sucking on me, by God I did submit to him, completely. And when he finally sucked on the spot where I needed him the most, it was everything that I had ever read about and more. I felt like I was falling off the railing and becoming part of the explosion of thousands of tiny lights shooting off into the universe. My soft whimpers became monkey shrieks and as unfamiliar as they were, I knew they had to have come from me. Matt was holding my hips tightly and kissing me softly back to earth when I was able to open my eyes and look down.

  It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen in my life. All I could see was the crown of Matt’s head, thick with waves of hair made golden by the moonlight, pressed tightly against my womanhood, where his mouth was lingeringly paying homage as if he couldn’t bear to stop.