by Hayes, Lane
However, I remembered a couple of basics like how to get the board out to sea. Well, I sort of remembered. I ate it twice when I mistimed a wave breaking onshore. I hoped no one recorded my backward somersault and graceless dismount. I was sufficiently humiliated when two kids who couldn’t have been older than fourteen checked to see if I was all right. I gave a thumbs-up sign and carefully watched them navigate past the breaker. Then I copied their technique and tried again. I lay on my stomach and paddled for my life toward Zane, Dean and a host of other surfers who were perched on their boards a few hundred feet away, waiting for an optimal wave to bring them to shore.
Zane spotted me well before I reached him. I was pathetically happy to see him. I felt like I’d been paddling for hours. My arms were sore and my stomach muscles clenched as I worked overtime to keep my balance. And yeah, I was still lying down. I couldn’t imagine how the hell I’d ever stand up. I grinned at my fiancé who didn’t look quite as excited to see me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked angrily.
“I’m surfing,” I replied with an impish smile.
“No. You’re clinging for dear life on that thing like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Your suit is unzipped and you’re too far down on the board and—why didn’t you wait for me?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, congratulations, I’m surprised. And I’m pissed,” he growled, grabbing the edge of my board before it floated away. “Sit up carefully and hold this strap.”
I obeyed, grasping the rope under the Velcro strap attached to his surfboard. “Now what? Should I stand?”
“No. Sit,” he repeated in a rough voice.
I shifted my hips and tried to pull one leg up but I quickly realized I couldn’t do it without falling in. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Flatten your palms in the middle, push yourself up and put both feet in the water at the same time.”
His voice was calmer now. He sounded like an instructor rather than an aggravated fiancé. I did as he said and after three attempts managed to sit upright. I beamed at him proudly but he scowled in return.
“Why are you so mad? I did it and I’m out here on the water. Hell, I’m practically surfing!”
Zane huffed and gave me a thorough once-over that made me squirm. “No, Eric, you’re not. You’re floating on the ocean and if you weren’t tethered to me, I have a sick feeling you’d be halfway to Catalina by now.”
I’d learned a few things about Zane in the nine months or so since we’d become a couple. He was extremely easy-going and good-natured…until he wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t turn into a maniac when he got angry or upset. He was subtler about making it clear when he was unhappy. He talked slowly and pointedly so that every word had a spike to it that made you flinch. And he called me Eric. Not Er, babe, baby, or hon. Eric. It made me feel much smaller than listening to Dean brag about the “good ol’ days” had earlier.
“I’m sorry. I just—I wanted to be out here with you,” I said in a weak voice.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the whole truth.”
“It is!” I insisted.
“Whatever. There are a couple of things you should know before you come out here half-zipped in a too-tight wet suit and float your ass out to sea. Don’t interrupt me,” he warned sternly, raising his hand to stop my new flood of excuses. “You have to know your board. You’ve got nine feet of real estate under you but you have no idea how to make it work, which means you’ll be working for it. You have to know points of balance, when to turn, how to keep out of the way of others. If you’d done this properly, we would have spent a good half hour on land studying the waves and hopefully recognize patterns in the break points.”
“The what?”
“Exactly. Hey, I’m not suggesting you need a special degree to surf, but it helps to know what the fuck you’re doing first.”
“Geez, okay. I’m sorry. Push me back to shore. I promise never to surf again,” I yelled, slapping the water indignantly.
Zane rolled his eyes. “That isn’t what I said, Schuster.”
“Don’t call me Eric and don’t call me Schuster. Just give me a push and I’ll get out of your way so you can go back to surfing with your good buddy.”
“That’s what I thought.” He crossed his arms over his impressive chest and shook his head in disbelief.
I huffed impatiently. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Enough. We’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you back to shore.”
He barked a series of rapid instructions that came down to “lie back on your belly and paddle like hell when I say go.” His no-nonsense tone didn’t allow room for question or interpretation. He exuded a confidence and command that frankly, went straight to my dick. If I wasn’t battling the elements to get back to dry land, I’d have a boner for sure.
I promptly collapsed the moment I hit the sand, waving Zane away when he stopped to give me a hand. “No, I’m okay. I’m just going to lie here for a while. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
Zane crouched at my side and unzipped my wet suit. He lifted the fabric slightly when he reached my crack and then let out a low groan. “Eric, are you naked under this thing?”
“Yes, and I told you not to call me that.”
“I think I’m losing my mind. Why are you naked and why can’t I call you by your fucking name?” he snapped. “You know what…don’t tell me. Let’s go.”
“Where? Aren’t you going to surf?” I asked, propping my elbows in the sand.
“No. I’m done here.”
I scrambled to my feet to join him as he stalked toward our blanket. He shoved his sunglasses on his nose then bent to gather our belongings. He didn’t look at me and he didn’t speak. He really didn’t have to say a word. With his furrowed brow and brusque manners, he emanated a “don’t fuck with me” vibe I felt compelled to respect. But when he moved ahead of me with his board, my chair and backpack slung over his shoulder, my eyes pricked with unshed tears. Zane never walked away from me. Ever. And no matter how frustrated I was, he’d never let me walk away from him either. He was a big believer in communication at all costs, so yeah…this baffled me. My heart hurt and my stomach ached. I wanted to lighten the mood and ask him what the chances were of stopping for breakfast, but I didn’t dare. I wasn’t sure what was going through his mind. I only knew he was mad and I didn’t know how to fix it. It looked like we were having our first fight.
If this was what fighting felt like, I wasn’t a fan. This sucked.
Chapter 4
We were mostly quiet on the way back to the hotel. Zane grumbled as he helped me out of my wet suit at the Jeep and barked a few commands when we unloaded the boards in his mom’s garage. I was just glad Wendy wasn’t home. I didn't think I had any small talk in me. My mind was churning with ideas on how to get us out of this funk. This wasn’t us. We were friends. The peace-loving kind who didn’t raise our voices unless it was to ask what our partner wanted to eat over the din of the television.
“Are you hungry?” I asked feebly as we made our way down the posh hallway to our suite. Somehow the elegance seemed to work against me. I wished I’d suggested grabbing takeout before we got here. In-N-Out french fries would have reset the balance in a flash.
“A little. We need showers. You go first,” he said, opening the door and setting my backpack on the floor near the front door.
I bit my bottom lip and nodded before turning to the bathroom. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness dragged at my mood and manifested itself in listless motion. I undressed then shuffled to the huge walk-in marble shower and fussed with the temperature and spray before finally stepping inside. Lukewarm water sluiced over my skin and matted my hair. It wasn’t hot enough, I thought lazily. If I’d had the strength to change it, I would have but really…what was the point? I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to all the things I should have said or done differently that morning. I could have ig
nored Dean and finished my damn book. I could have gone bodysurfing and maybe even persuaded Zane to join me or—
“Did you wash your hair yet?”
I jumped and whirled around with my hand on my chest. “Fuck! You scared me.”
Zane chuckled. “Relax, babe. This isn’t Psycho. I’m naked and empty-handed. You’re safe with me.”
He held his hands high in surrender, inviting me to laugh at his exaggerated silly pose, but I couldn’t look away from his twinkling eyes and that beautiful smile. The one that constantly reminded me not to take life so seriously. Fuck, I loved him so much it hurt sometimes. I blinked back tears, hoping like hell the spray covered the evidence.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a shaky voice.
Zane’s smile dimmed. He reached for my face and rubbed his thumbs under my eyes then kissed my forehead, my nose, and finally, my lips. He pulled back before I could throw proof of my apology into a frenetic kiss complete with tongue, roving hands, and a gyrating pelvis. He bent to pick up a bottle of shampoo and poured a generous amount into his palm.
“I may have overreacted. I just—turn around so I don’t get this in your eyes.” He waited for me to comply before continuing. “You scared me, Er. You can’t do stupid shit like that. Next time, you wait for me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good. Rinse your hair.” He backed up to give me space under the showerhead while he washed his own hair and body. When he finished, he soaped up his hands again to wash my arms, chest, and back. Then he dipped lower to thoroughly bathe my suddenly hopeful cock and balls.
“What are you doing?” I asked lamely.
“Just making sure we get all the sand. It tends to burrow in uncomfortable places if you’re not careful, and I need to get to all of your places,” he hummed, licking my ear as he reached around to part my cheeks and tap a finger against my entrance.
“Zane, I—” My breath caught when he breached my hole.
I rested my head on his shoulder and sucked water off his warm skin then lowered my hands to stroke his hardening cock. Our height difference made it difficult to grasp both of us at once, so I jacked us in each hand as he fingered me, whispering an endless list of the dirty things he wanted to do. Nothing got me going faster than nasty innuendo and he knew it. When I moaned his name and bucked my hips against his upper thigh, he thrust his tongue between my lips and stilled me with a toe-curling kiss. We made out under the spray until the heat of our frenzied licking, sucking, and the primal slide of flesh threatened to combust into sex against the marble tile. Usually I was all for that, but not without lube.
Zane pulled away to turn off the water. Then he stepped out of the shower, grabbed a fluffy white towel, and motioned for me to come to him. I smiled dreamily as he dried my hair and body, stopping to pay extra attention to everything between my legs. He tossed the damp towel on the floor and reached for a fresh one before inclining his head toward the adjoining suite.
“Go on. I’ll be right there.”
I nodded and hurried to the next room, holding my throbbing dick with one hand and using the other to shove our rumpled sheets out of the way. It was still early…just eight o’clock. The cleaning service hadn’t been by yet. I sat on the edge of the mattress for a moment before darting to make sure the Do Not Disturb sign was in place and the lock was secure.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zane snarked. “You don’t listen to instructions well, do you?”
I turned with a start and did my best not to drool at the sight of him. He looked like an X-rated version of one of those corny beach calendars featuring hunky golden-skinned gods posing with a surfboard and nothing else.
“Uh…” I licked my lips and moved toward him. “I didn’t want the housekeeper to walk in on us.”
“You’re funny.” Zane chuckled then threaded his fingers through my hair and drew me against him. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yeah, and that was embarrassing. I’d rather not stage a repeat performance.” My voice was too thick with desire to sound convincing, I mused as I pumped his rigid shaft.
“It was a good one though. You were on your knees, bent over the bed, screaming my name.…‘Fuck me, Zane. Harder!’ Remember, baby? That was hot,” he purred.
“Y-yes.” I melted when he licked a path along my neck to my collarbone. When he pulled back and slipped his hand in mine and led me to the bed, I frowned. “It’s always hot, Zane, but I’m not into having sex in front of people.”
“Gotcha. Just spanking,” he teased, smacking my ass before falling backward on the mattress and pulling me on top of him.
When I wiggled out of his grasp, he hugged me around my waist and rolled over to switch our positions. I didn’t have it in me to pretend I didn’t love it. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and tugged his hair, wordlessly requesting him to lean in.
“Cool it, Richards. I’m willing to try almost anything once, but nothing with an audience and…I won’t share. Ever.”
Zane rose on his hands over me and gave me a piercing stare, obviously catching my meaning immediately. “Same here. But not sharing and being jealous for no reason are two different things. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I’ve got bigger things on my mind.” He tapped his shaft against my thigh suggestively and winked. “I want to lick you from head to toe and then fuck your sweet hole. Deal?”
I widened my eyes and gulped theatrically. “Deal.”
“That’s my baby. I want your full attention. Don’t worry about locking the doors or drawing the curtains or—”
“Are they drawn?” I asked, craning my neck toward the bank of windows on the far side of the room.
Zane chuckled then nipped my chin and captured my hands above my head. “Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. The worst thing that’ll happen is someone will hear you beg me to fuck you.”
“Are you suggesting I’m loud?”
His grin immediately morphed into something decidedly roguish. “You’re a little vocal, but I like it. Don’t change.”
“What do I say?” I lifted my hips to meet his, loving that we always seemed to fall into a perfect rhythm.
“Some variation of ‘Fuck me, fuck me,’ and ‘You have the biggest dick ever,’ and—why are you laughing?” he asked with a faux scowl.
Amusement and joy bubbled to the surface then spilled out of me in a wave of affection so strong it would have surely brought me to my knees if I’d been standing.
“I’m not laughing, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never yelled, ‘You have the biggest dick ever’ during sex.” I snickered, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.
“You say it all the time,” he assured me playfully before giving a few over-the-top examples of penis praise that had us both chuckling and gazing into each other’s eyes like two lovesick fools. “You called it a ‘monster python’ when we—”
“No way.” I snorted.
Zane licked the corner of my mouth and hummed. “It’s your word against mine, baby.”
Whatever snappy comeback was on the tip of my tongue was immediately forgotten when he picked up the tempo, grinding his length against mine until I honestly didn’t think it was possible to get any harder or want him more than I already did. I sighed at the delicious friction. Our combined precum created a natural lubricant that made his vigorous gliding motion almost enough to throw me over the edge. But I didn’t want to come this way. I needed him inside me.
“Zane, I want you.”
He knelt back and grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand. He poured a little over my cock and his then slicked his fingers and gently slid a single digit inside. And then another. He stretched me open with practiced ease, alternately coaxing me to relax then curling his finger to reach my sweet spot. It wasn’t long before I was writhing and moaning underneath him. I arched my hips off the mattress, fucking myself on his talented fingers as I stroked my painfully hard shaft.
I expected him to crawl over me at any second a
nd drive inside me. We’d stopped using condoms months ago when we acknowledged we were in a serious and exclusive relationship. It added an element of intimacy we both appreciated. And usually, it took a lot less time to get to the action. Except today for some reason. I widened my legs hoping he’d wordlessly get the message that I was more than ready.
Zane flashed a wicked grin. “Are you gonna beg for my monster—”
“Do not say another word.” I put my hand over his mouth and narrowed my gaze, intending to scold him, but I busted up laughing instead.
I couldn’t help it. His eyes sparked with a contagious humor that invited me in and reminded me over and over how incredibly lucky I was to fall in love with my best friend. I’d never laughed during sex before Zane. In fact, I would have thought it wasn’t exactly a positive sign, but I would’ve been wrong. No one wanted a nonstop comedy act during a romantic interlude, but occasionally that touch of humor was almost therapeutic and reassuring. We were the only ones who mattered here. We made the rules.
He grinned in response and flopped to his back. “Fine. Have it your way. Climb on my—oh.”
I scrambled quickly to straddle his thighs. I pressed his stiff prick at my entrance and then slowly pushed, wincing at his girth. Our gazes fused as I lowered myself inch by inch. We didn’t look away or speak until he was buried deep inside me. Any trace of humor was instantly replaced with a fierce need and something words couldn’t quite capture.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment as I tested my readiness, rolling my hips back and forth. It didn’t take long before pleasure chased away the last remnants of pain. I splayed my hands over Zane’s broad chest and gazed down at him in wonder.