by Sofia Grey
“So, Jonah, where are you from?” I gave him an encouraging smile.
He stared down at the cutlery. “Wellington.” The city was only an hour away from this quiet stretch of coastline, and it made for a popular weekend haven for many city-ites. I’d been living there, too. An unwelcome realization crept in. This would just be a holiday fling for Jonah, the possibility of a few nights of no-strings sex. He would be uncomfortable about giving me too much information in case I tried to find him later, to follow him home like a needy puppy. I took a quick breath into tight lungs. With this delectable, young man, I’d still take that over being alone, even if only for the weekend.
No more personal questions. I produced a bright smile and pretended to examine the menu. “What do you fancy to eat?”
Jonah, meanwhile, stared at the pile of musical instruments in the far corner of the bar. Dark eyes flashed back to me. “The pizzas are good here.” He’s been here before. Maybe he’s worried about someone knowing him, seeing him here with me. He might already have a girlfriend, I reminded myself. A muscle ticked in his cheek, and with a small sigh, he rubbed his forehead. More people poured into the bar, and Jonah eyed them warily. His hand closed around his napkin so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
My stomach churned. My hoped-for evening was falling apart. I touched the back of his hand with my fingertips. He met my eyes instantly. “Hey,” I spoke softly. “You okay?”
A shadow crossed his face. “Don’t like crowds.” He stared at me, as though daring me to look away. Was that all? I could easily fix that.
“Me neither.” I shrugged and smiled. “Why don’t we come back another night?” I leaned forward across the small table. “Something I’ve never done is eat fish and chips on the beach. Should we do that instead?”
His face cleared, and like the sun coming out after rain, he smiled fully at me. My heart juddered, and I literally fought for breath. He was beautiful. A dimple winked high in one cheek and little crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. His fidgeting hand settled palm up, like an offering, and I took it, lacing our fingers together. From awkward to happy in the space of a few seconds.
Jonah led me to a small fish and chip shop on the next street, and from there, clutching our paper-wrapped bundles of hot food, we walked back to the beach, only stopping to buy bottles of water. His mood had lifted the instant we walked out of the bar, and he smiled happily at me as we settled down on the dry, powdery sand to eat our dinner. It didn’t take long, and he looked in no hurry to leave, so I relaxed and lay back on the sand.
“I feel stuffed now. I don’t usually eat so much.” I closed my eyes against the low, evening sun. “I give you fair warning, I may fall asleep.”
He chuckled, and I heard a rustling noise close by. I cracked open my eyes to find him settling down beside me. “Lift your head.” I complied, and to my delight, he slid one arm under me to act as a pillow.
“Thank you.” I rolled onto my side to sneak a look at him, only to catch him staring at me. His arm curled protectively around me, drawing me even closer. “It’s been fun this evening.” I still knew almost nothing about him. He’d kept me talking most of the time, and I burned to understand him. What could I ask him that wouldn’t overstep the mark?
Holidays and travel were usually safe subjects for most people. “You mentioned Cassiopeia. Have you seen it? Have you been to Europe?”
He froze. I felt his arm tense beneath my head and saw his jaw tighten, his eyes narrow. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
What? I felt churlish. “I’ve told you almost everything about me, Jonah, but anytime I ask you a question, you shut me down. What are you so afraid of? If it’s me, why did you even ask me out tonight?” He looked stricken, but I plowed on. “I’m guessing I’m just a booty call, and I can handle that. I’m not going to go all bunny-boiler and plead undying love, but at the same time, I’m not just going to fall into bed with you. I don’t even know your last name.”
“Marsh.” He snapped the word out. “Jonah Marsh, okay?” He scratched at his chin but maintained eye contact with me. “What else?”
What else, indeed? My mind went blank. “What do you do? Are you a student? Do you work?”
“I mend guitars and amplifiers.”
“You’re here just for the weekend with your friends?”
The taut lines of his face softened a fraction. “Yes.” He took a quick breath. “Greg’s my younger brother. Rich and the girls are his friends.”
It hadn’t occurred to me they were brothers, but on reflection, both were tall, dark, and handsome. Did Jonah have piercings, too? I couldn’t ask that.
“I was in England a couple of years ago.” He spoke precisely, careful with each word, and I suddenly realized his speech patterns seemed odd—as though English was not his native language. “I was glad to come home.”
I felt sorry now, for hounding him. The new Cass wouldn’t care anyway; she’d just take him as he stood. Lifting my hand, I reached toward him and stroked his cheek, savoring the prickliness beneath my finger. He caught my hand. “Have you finished? Can I kiss you now?”
My alter ego made her move. I leaned forward and closed the gap to tease Jonah with my lips. He made a muffled groan and kissed me back, hard. He rolled to lie on his back and urged me to go on top, then wrapped both arms around me. I squealed with glee inside. Thirty-four years old and making out on the sand like a horny teenager. I ran my fingers through his hair and rubbed myself against him while he explored my mouth. I had to lift my head. I needed to breathe. He lay there, flushed and panting, wild hair covered with fine, powdery sand, and gave me the sexiest grin I’d ever seen on a man. Cocky, confident, and very alluring.
“That’s a yes, then?” How could I possibly resist him? I already knew I’d be taking him back to my bed tonight.
“What do you think?” We kissed again, slowly, learning each other. A faint tang of lemon clung to his lips, a reminder of our dinner, but he tasted dark and delicious. He slid his hands down my arms, and every nerve ending jumped to life. He was creating erogenous zones that I didn’t know were possible. Right now, my entire body was rewriting itself to a new language, one that whispered Jonah with every breath.
Chapter Seven - Raining
When I next lifted my head, it was to the realization that the sun had disappeared. Surely it hadn’t set already. Something cold on my arm made me frown. Rain. Another drop hit and then another, each larger and colder than the one before. Jonah stared up at me, his eyes hooded, lips curled into a smile of pure satisfaction.
“It’s raining.” I still didn’t want to move, and I nuzzled his throat. “Are you coming back to my place?”
He caught my face in his hands. “Are you sure?”
The sensible mother in me, the one that lectured Dylan seemingly endlessly, popped her head up. Protection, she mouthed. God, I had to mention this. Jonah waited for me to speak, but I kissed him first, ignoring the barrage of raindrops that spattered across my back and shoulders.
“I don’t have any protection,” I blurted. “Do you?”
“No.” His mouth set in a firm line and then broke into another dazzling smile. “Let’s go buy some.”
Hand in hand, we skittered across the beach, dumping the fish papers in the nearest rubbish bin and heading back to the corner shop where Jonah bought a packet of condoms while I pretended to look at the magazines. I tried very hard not to giggle. My emotions were so close to the surface that I felt they would break free at any moment, exploding over unsuspecting passersby.
Even though we hurried back, we couldn’t outrun the rain, and the shower quickly turned into a downpour. Long before we’d reached my cottage, I’d given up and slowed to a walk again, accepting the reality that I would be soaked. My blouse had turned entirely transparent, and my hair was plastered to my skull. Not the prettiest look, but Jonah didn’t seem to care. We trailed along, his arm across my shoulders, while I tucked one arm around his
waist. Every few steps, he would pause and press a tiny kiss to my temple, my wet hair, or the corner of my mouth while I tried to kiss him back.
There was something stupidly comic-book funny about how saturated we were, and we laughed and snickered all the way back. I could have been four years old again, everything was hysterically funny, and Jonah laughed with me. For a man of so few words, all it took was a raised eyebrow or a pained face to make me giggle.
We had to walk past his cottage first, and my steps faltered, but his friends were nowhere to be seen. I’m glad. That just felt too awkward. The first angry pebbles of hail emerged, and we ran up the steps to my deck and the sanctuary of my cottage. I shut the door with a bang and stood there, dripping onto the tiled kitchen floor. I couldn’t have been soggier if I’d jumped in the sea. Jonah slicked his hair back with one hand. It gleamed like a seal pelt, and with his face bare, his cheekbones were even more prominent, the dimple more delicious.
“I’m so wet.” I smirked, my chest aching from how much I’d laughed. Jonah stepped right up to me and encased me in his arms.
“I’m so glad.” His grin was wicked, positively illicit. I should have been nervous. I’d only slept with two men—Scott, my teenage love, and Colin—but this felt right. Like strapping myself into a fairground ride, I couldn’t get off now until it finished. I felt liberated. The way Jonah ate me up with his eyes, I felt beautiful for the first time in my life.
I was breathless. “Do you want a shower?” We hadn’t moved from the kitchen, Jonah’s arms encircling me, his fingers running up and down my spine.
“Shower? I just had one, thanks.”
I snorted with laughter again. Had I ever laughed this much with Scott? No. With Colin? Not that I remembered. The writer part of me filed away his smart reply for future use, but then he kissed me again, and it drove everything else out of my brain.
“Come,” I whispered and tangled my fingers through his. Four steps into my bedroom—cleaned earlier just in case. Four steps that took forever with Jonah pressing his lips to my body, to every patch of bare skin he found. I peeled off my wet blouse and dropped it to the floor. He groaned. You would think he’d never seen a bra before. He traced the curve of my breasts with his fingertips, then bent his head and suckled one nipple through the damp fabric.
Lust arced through me, jagged like lightning and just as fierce. I moaned and dug my hands into his hair, knees buckling and panties soaking. Could I come just from having my breasts played with? He eased back and shifted to the other nipple. I braced my hip against the doorframe and closed my eyes, dizzy with sensation. He tugged down the silky fabric and closed his mouth around the bare nipple. Hot and wet, he sucked greedily, his hands curving round my back to arch me into him. I heard a mewling noise and realized it was me. “Oh God, don’t stop, please don’t, ah, Jonah.” My words all ran into one. When had my nipples become so sensitive?
“Take it off.” His voice was thick. It took a moment to process his words, to corral my sluggish fingers into obeying, to fumble with the clasp and drag the straps down my arms. “So pretty.” He stared at my bare chest while I silently begged him to kiss me again. I hadn’t regained the power of coherent speech yet. “I want you so much.” His voice tight, as though self-control was a perilous path, his hips jerked to underline his words. I could see his hard-on straining against wet denim, and I stroked it, drawing a whimper from him. Stiff, large, and ready for me. There was no reason to wait.
I popped the button of his denims, and then, with great care, eased down the zipper, one metal tooth at a time. His cock, restrained by soft boxers, jerked when my fingers brushed against it, and I made sure to take my time unzipping him. I wanted to make the most of this experience, the heady feeling of being desired, and I longed to send this man right to the edge of his self-control.
Jonah hooked his thumbs around the denims and shoved them down his legs to pool around his feet. “You, too,” he rasped, and played with my jeans. They stuck to me like a second skin, and for a long moment, they wouldn’t budge over my thighs. It struck me as funny.
“We didn’t need condoms,” I snickered. “Wet jeans make an effective contraceptive.”
“Fuck that.” He scooped me up in his arms and carried me the remaining steps to the bed, depositing me carefully in the middle. “These are coming off.” The determination on his face made me helpless with laughter, and I wriggled and shifted as he peeled the wet denim down both legs to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. I looked up at him and shivered, arousal spreading out from my groin to every part of my body. My naked breasts tingled under his heated gaze. I could never have imagined this happening.
He yanked his T-shirt over his head and stood there, clad only in boxers while I admired a body that belonged on the cover of a romance novel. Tattoo-dappled broad, strong shoulders above a muscled chest, with a light fuzz of dark hair leading down across a flat stomach. Another trail of darker hair dived south, leading the eye to his erect cock. I swallowed, my mouth dry and lungs tight with anticipation. Doubts kept jostling for attention, but I ignored them.
His lips tilted in that half smile that I adored. “You’re gorgeous.” I squirmed, my panties dampening with each second that passed. I’d slide off the bed soon. I’d worn my prettiest panties, the tiny ones with the silver stars embroidered on them, and I was glad I’d bothered. He knelt beside me on the bed and stroked the little stars with one finger. “Star gazing,” he murmured and looked straight at me, a flash of devilment in his eyes. Before I could do anything, he dropped his head and closed his mouth around my covered pussy. I bucked, shocked and excited, and he glanced up at me. “Yes?” he whispered, and I nodded, unable to speak. I’d only done this once with Colin. He hadn’t enjoyed the experience, and it had done little for me, but now, with Jonah, it looked set to blow my mind.
He curled one finger around the scalloped top edge of the sheer fabric and pulled it down, his mouth following in its wake. Moist heat enveloped my pussy lips, and I nearly shot off the bed. My fingers clenched around the nearest surface, the pillow, and I moaned as Jonah moved further down. A spring began to tighten inside me, pulling on every muscle and tearing at the fringes of my sanity. I’d wanted to wreck Jonah’s self-control, but in less than a minute, I’d become a mindless, wanton puddle of need.
His tongue traced a path down my slit and sucked on one pussy lip at a time, each one drawing a louder moan from me. I pulled the pillow closer, my fingers hanging on with a death grip. Could you die from oral sex? From an explosion of lust? Jonah was moving, and I hastened to pay attention. He yanked my panties down unresisting legs and then...holy hell...he draped my legs across each shoulder. I was too open, too exposed. He can’t possibly like doing this.
“So wet, baby. So good.” He lapped with the precision of someone who’d done this many times before, and I mentally applauded the other women he’d practiced on, if it meant he could do this with such a sure touch. More licking reduced my capability to think, and the spring inside me tightened another notch. He slid his hands under my butt, fingers kneading my skin and lifting me to a different angle. His tongue dipped inside me, and I cried out, lungs heaving and heart racing. I couldn’t take this anymore. I couldn’t breathe properly. The spring compressed again, and everything inside me tensed. I squirmed, tried to avoid his tongue, tried at the same time to impale myself further on it.
“Please,” I whispered, unsure what I asked for. “Please, Jonah, help me.” The bastard chuckled. I dimly recognized the sound, but as my fogged brain tried to process it, he sucked my clit. Hard. I wailed, every nerve ending igniting and exploding under his lips. My orgasm sucked me down like a whirlpool and robbed me of light, air, and sound. I was pure sensation, shaking and trembling in his arms, blind and dumb.
Jonah moved. My quaking thighs were replaced on the bed, and I felt a cool gap where his head had been. A heartbeat later, he returned and lay beside me, propped up on one elbow, a condom in his hand. Bending his he
ad, he kissed me. “You liked?”
“I liked,” I echoed, my breathing still ragged.
“Me, too.” His smile was pure, male satisfaction, and I gazed at him in wonder. How had I enticed him into my bed? When his lips descended on mine again, I gave up thinking and melted into his kiss.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible to recover from an orgasm as shattering as that and to want more, but I did. Jonah’s hand closed around my breast, and he flicked at the nipple with his thumb. The smoldering embers of desire burst into life as though he’d set a match to me. Lust sparked, flooding my veins and energizing me. I wanted to feel him. I placed my palm on his chest, pausing for a second to feel his heart pounding, and knew that I was making his heart race. He growled when I began walking my fingers down across flat abs. He tensed under my touch and kissed me deeper, his tongue plunging into my mouth.
His boxers were soft, a fine, silky fabric that barely held his dick in place. He groaned when I palmed him through the material and then helped me to slide them off. At last, we were both naked. “Want to see you,” I murmured against his lips, and he withdrew with a shuddering sigh, to lie back on the bed. His erection was magnificent. Far more of a handful than I’d been used to, it was heavy and thick, and already weeping precum from the slit.
“Impressive.” I stroked it with one finger, from root to tip, and watched it jerk. A glance at Jonah’s face showed how hard he struggled to control himself. “Show me how you like to be touched.”
He blinked, breathed deep through his nose, and took one of my hands in his. “You’re killing me,” he whispered but closed my fingers around the base of his cock, his fist resting on top. “Like this.” He squeezed, far harder than I would have, and then began to slide up and down the length with occasional rubs over the head. I wanted to do everything with Jonah, feel everything. This was as much torture for me as it was for him. I burned with the need to take him into my body, all that hardness and fire in such a delectable package.