The Beach

by R.S. Grey

  He hisses under his breath, apparently enjoying how I feel. He works his finger in and out slowly, and when I peer at him with half-closed lids, I find his gaze between my thighs, watching his fingers as they pump into me.

  He pulls out and sweeps his fingers a little higher. I’m so sensitive, it’s almost too much, but he does it again. Again. Again. And I’m coming so quickly, so suddenly, I reach out to hold his forearm as a way to keep myself from slipping off the table completely.

  With a satisfied groan, he watches me come apart for him, and then the instant I’m done, he tugs me down to the edge of the table so I’m perfectly positioned for him as he yanks his boxer briefs down his legs.

  He has a condom. I wonder if he got it while I was in my room earlier, but I don’t care to ask. It’s a miracle. I stare down between my legs, taking in his size as he rolls it on. He pumps his hand over his length slowly, his eyes catching mine. There’s a question there and I nod, over and over, letting him know I’m right there with him, wanting this so badly I could scream.

  I do. When he brushes my bikini bottoms aside and thrusts into me, I release a throaty moan. I’m immediately overpowered by him, by his size, by his thrusts, by his domineering presence at the edge of the table. He has the advantage and he uses it, gripping my thighs and parting them as he pumps into me. He’s thick and unrelenting. My mouth drops open, but no sound seeps out.

  What would I say?

  More?

  I can’t take more.

  Stop?

  Never.

  “Lindsey,” he moans, reaching out to cup one of my breasts, using it to stabilize himself as he presses into me.

  I cover his hand with mine and squeeze. I know I’m going to carry marks from this. Later, I’ll have evidence of our lovemaking written all over me.

  His other hand slips between my legs again, swirling and tempting me toward a second orgasm. I’m staving it off, trying hard to stay with him, but then I have no choice. His fingers work their magic and I’m coming again, squeezing around him, listening as he breaks apart with me, pumping everything he has inside me.

  It feels like the most wonderfully passionate moment I’ve ever shared with another person, like my nerves are all exposed for him on that table. He could touch any part of me he wanted right now. I’m not a person; I’m a puddle.

  He leans over and kisses my neck, my cheek, my hair.

  He whispers French words into my ear while he gathers me up in his arms and carries me to his bathroom. I don’t understand a word he says, but maybe I’m not meant to. He’s saying too much, too fast.

  We shower together, taking our time as we soap off the massage oil. I touch him in ways I’ve always imagined I would. He’s still hard, but he winces when I wrap my hand around his length. I know he’s overly sensitive, but then so was I. He didn’t go easy on me, so I don’t go easy on him. I drop down to my knees on the cold tile floor as he blocks the stream from pouring down onto me. I wrap my mouth around him and suck until he’s first begging me to stop, and then he’s begging me not to stop.

  We’re lost to each other again in that bathroom, and then in his bed.

  We don’t make it out of his bedroom the rest of the night.

  On the door of the villa hangs a sign: Do not disturb.

  And no one does.

  Nine

  I wake the next morning with an ache between my legs.

  That’s never happened to me before. I’ve never had sex so many times I’m physically exhausted from it.

  I smile and roll over, peeling my eyes open.

  Noah sits in a chair by the terrace window, sipping coffee.

  He has his laptop open, and he’s scrolling down, reading something.

  I think I’m being sneaky, watching him like this, but apparently not.

  “Good morning,” he says, glancing playfully at me.

  I smile and burrow deeper beneath the covers. “Morning.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “If you can manage to get out of bed, we can walk down to the restaurant. I forgot to leave our breakfast order on the door last night, and I’m too hungry to wait for room service to arrive.”

  Reluctantly, I sit up, realizing a moment too late that I’m completely naked. I yank the sheet up to cover myself, but not before Noah gets an eyeful.

  He cocks a brow and shakes his head, not saying a word.

  I laugh and do the classic—and frankly, ingenious—move of wrapping the sheet around myself like a toga so I can hobble out of his bedroom and dash across the villa to my own room. I shower and dress quickly, tossing my hair into a braid underneath a white sun hat.

  Noah waits for me out in the living room, looking altogether too handsome with his freshly showered hair and slightly unbuttoned shirt.

  I’m uneasy as I approach him, wondering if the magic from last night has worn off now that we’ve had an hour apart. He senses my reluctance, sighs, and reaches out for me, gathering me against him so he can drop a kiss to my lips.

  “Together, Lindsey. We’re together.”

  “Are we?”

  “Here and back home,” he assures me, lacing his fingers through mine as we leave the villa and head toward the restaurant.

  “What will your sister say?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s call her at breakfast.”

  My jaw drops. “Are you serious!? She’ll be able to tell something is up immediately. I don’t think I’ve stopped blushing for twenty-four hours.”

  He laughs. “That’s sort of the point. I want them to know about us.”

  I pick up the pace, my brain starting to work itself into a tizzy. “Okay, right. Yes. We’ll tell her and Connor today—get ahead of the story. We don’t want them to think we’re sneaking around behind their backs.”

  I don’t hear what he says because I’m too busy planning what I’ll say to Natalie on the phone.

  Once we take our seats at our table and order breakfast—and by order, I mean point to something random on the menu without even looking—I pull out my phone and FaceTime Natalie.

  It rings a few times before it finally connects. Connor and Natalie are squashed together on their end of the call, smiling. They’re perfectly adorable and overly eager to hear from us.

  It only occurs to me after we’ve all said hello that they shouldn’t be at home right now. It’s a work day.

  “What are you guys both doing at home?”

  “What? Oh!” Natalie looks at Connor and they immediately speak over one another.

  “Connor’s work thing got canceled.”

  “I’m doing my work thing online!”

  Noah laughs and shakes his head in disbelief.

  “What’s really going on?” I ask skeptically.

  Natalie blanches. “All right…so, Connor didn’t really have a work thing, but in our defense, Noelle really was sick.”

  “With ear infections?”

  “Well…she had a runny nose. We weren’t sure if it would develop into ear infections!”

  “You guys are SUCH LIARS!” I say, unable to stem my laughter. “If Connor didn’t have to work and Noelle wasn’t sick, why’d you both bail on our trip!?”

  Natalie squirms and looks to Connor for backup, but he holds up his hands as if not wanting anything to do with this situation.

  “You tell her,” he says. “It was your idea in the first place!”

  Natalie groans. “Okay, hear me out. You’re finally single, and so is Noah. I’ve seen the way you two have danced around each other for years—”

  “We have not!” I protest, though I know we absolutely have.

  “Anyway, I just thought if there was ever a time for you two to really get to know each other better, it’d be on this trip.” She beams. “So, is it working?”

  I look up at Noah, almost annoyed by the truth.

  We can’t tell them we’re dating now. They’ll never stop gloating. Natalie will call herself a matchmaker for
the rest of her life! They’ll think this was all because of them!

  “We…” I start, unsure of where I’m trying to go with the sentence.

  Noah clears his throat, trying not to laugh.

  “Why does Noah look so damn pleased with himself?” Connor asks suspiciously.

  “Oh, nothing. He’s just…sunburned.” I try and fail to kick Noah under the table before continuing, “Yes, sure, we are enjoying ourselves.”

  “Have you been swimming a lot?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Going out to the ruins?”

  I blush thinking about the way we made out like teenagers until we got in trouble. “Yes. They were very…old.”

  Natalie’s eyes narrow. “Something’s up.”

  I shake my head vehemently.

  “You’re blushing!”

  I fan my face. “It’s hot down here! We’re like three feet from the equator!”

  “OH MY GOD!” Natalie screams, dropping the phone. “ARE YOU GUYS HOOKING UP?! WAIT—don’t answer that! I don’t want any details! Ew ew ew.” Then something dawns on her and she shifts gears. She picks up the phone again and says, “Wait…it’s only been like two days since you arrived! I figured it’d take the whole week before one of you finally made a move!”

  Noah takes the phone out of my hand and aims a good-natured smile at his sister.

  “Natalie, the truth is, I’ve had a crush on Lindsey for a few years now.”

  “I KNEW IT!” Natalie shouts.

  “So we’re dating.”

  Connor laughs. “’Bout damn time, man.”

  “We’d appreciate both of your support.”

  Natalie laughs. “Obviously! Lindsey’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted you to date. BUT don’t get it twisted.” Her tone turns menacing. “If you harm a single hair on her body, if you break her heart or string her along, so help me GOD, NOAH MARTIN, I WILL CUT OFF YOUR B—”

  “All right, I think he gets the picture,” Connor interjects. Then he laughs. “I guess I should issue the same warning to Lindsey, right? You’re pretty obsessed with her. I don’t want her breaking your heart either.”

  Noah’s gaze meets mine, and I shake my head like that’s completely impossible.

  I’ve wanted him for too long to ruin it now.

  His free hand reaches out for mine across the table and he brushes his thumb across my knuckles.

  “I think we’ll manage just fine on our own, guys,” he says, smiling at me.

  I hear sniffling through the phone, and when Noah hands it back over to me, Natalie’s on the screen, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Oh my god, you’re crying.”

  “I’m sorry!” she says weepily. “I’m just really happy!”

  “It’s new. C’mon, don’t make it more serious than it is.”

  “It’s serious,” Noah amends for me.

  I laugh, though inside, the confession fills me with butterflies.

  “So do you forgive us for canceling last minute?” Connor asks.

  Noah and I lock eyes, neither of us missing a beat.

  “All’s forgiven,” I say.

  “We’ll call you guys later,” Noah says before we say goodbye and hang up. I highly doubt we’ll call them again, though. We have no plans for the rest of the day, but I have a feeling we’ll be extremely busy.

  “Are we totally insane for jumping into something so soon?”

  His brows shoot up. “Soon? Lindsey, it’s been years in the making.”

  I laugh, realizing he’s right.

  “True. I feel like I know so much about you…but I’m still learning a lot too,” I say, blushing deeper, obviously referring to the more intimate aspects of our relationship.

  “I’m learning things too,” he says, sounding devious. “I’ve learned you love when I kiss you between your thighs. I’ve learned what you sound like when you’re getting close, what it feels like when you wrap your legs around my hips.”

  Our waiter is approaching with our breakfast and I hiss for him to stop, not quite wanting him to. I love the way he talks to me, love the way he handles me in bed. He’s as confident as I thought he’d be, as intense and wonderful as I’d hoped.

  “Is it insane if I say I feel like I’m already falling for you?” I ask, just before our waiter reaches our table.

  We’re forced to stay quiet as we wait for him to arrange the plates and then ask us if everything looks good.

  “Great,” I tell him with a big smile.

  I look back at Noah to find him studying me intensely.

  As the waiter walks away, he leans in.

  “You aren’t alone,” he admits. “I’m right there with you.”

  “Scary, isn’t it?” I ask with a lopsided grin, trying to ease the tension.

  He nods solemnly.

  “Terrifying.”

  “This isn’t just paradise, right? We aren’t just caught up in the moment?”

  “This isn’t a paradise sort of love, Lindsey. It’s the real thing.” He grabs my hand across the table. “I’ll prove it.”

  I hope you loved Lindsey and Noah! Curious about Connor and Natalie? Keep reading for an extended excerpt of DOCTOR DEAREST.

  SYNOPSIS

  Natalie

  Dr. Easton is part man, part myth.

  He’s a formidable surgeon. Highly respected in his field.

  He also happens to be an ex-collegiate quarterback with a classically handsome face.

  Are you catching on yet?

  He’s horrible.

  Beautiful.

  A walking Ralph Lauren ad.

  He’s also so off limits he should come with a warning label: This way lies heartache.

  Not only is he an attending at the hospital where I’m training, he’s also my brother’s best friend. If you’ve lost count, that’s two reasons why I plan on putting this ridiculous crush behind me. Besides, it’s definitely not mutual.

  Dr. Easton has never once paid me special attention. No tempting smirks. Not even one subtle innuendo. To him, I’m just another resident—all but invisible.

  Connor

  For the last five years, I’ve mentored Natalie in the OR, stayed in line, and kept my hands to myself, but it’s been agonizing.

  Natalie is trouble in scrubs. A walking temptation I’ve been forced to ignore.

  For so long, I’ve wanted her in silence. By the time fate finally throws me a bone, my patience has run out.

  Natalie’s brother is leaving town, and he wants me to watch over her while he’s gone.

  He has no idea how I feel about her.

  Neither does she.

  But she will.

  Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait, Natalie?

  Well…I’ve done my waiting.

  Chapter 1

  Natalie

  Let it be known that it’s incredibly difficult to sneak into a hospital. The security measures are no joke: locked double doors, guards posted like sentinels, ID access points, and boobytrapped wires that detonate grenades if you accidentally trip them. Okay, I made that last one up, but it really does feel like I’m trying to survive the boss level of a video game just to make it up to my usual post in the burn intensive care unit.

  The trouble starts down in the lobby when I see a group of fourth-year residents and am forced to hide out in the gift shop between the stuffed animals and the magazine rack—concealed behind an unfolded newspaper—until they’re gone. Then, to go undetected from there, I have to hug the walls out in the lobby with my head down and my hair covering half my face. I skip the elevators and opt for the stairwell. Then, right when I think the coast is clear out in the hall, I have to quickly duck behind an overgrown fiddle-leaf when one of my old surgical preceptors suddenly appears out of thin air. After he passes and my heart rate slows (it was a lot of stairs, okay?!), I hesitantly peer around the final corner to confirm I’ve successfully made it to my destination without getting caught.

  Mission accomplishe
d.

  Straightening my clothes, I swipe my badge and breeze past the double doors on my way to the nurses’ station in the center of the BICU. My head is held high. My white coat has my name on it, embroidered in blue thread. There’s even an M.D. on the tail end. I belong here.

  Lois, the most seasoned nurse in the unit, narrows her eyes at me over the top of her computer screen. Her reaction is why I had to sneak up here in the first place. Everyone knows what today is.

  I give her a big smile. Lois commands more respect than half the doctors I know. Her glares could weaken the knees of anyone wearing a white coat, but I like to think she and I have a special bond after working together off and on these last five years.

  “Evening, Lois,” I singsong. “How are you?”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” she says flatly.

  Lois isn’t one to mince words. I once thought she was smiling at me, but it turned out she was only inspecting her teeth with the back of a spoon, making sure nothing was wedged in there after lunch.

  I lean across the counter and try to see whose file she has open on the computer.

  She angles the screen away from me.

  “Lois, c’mon. Is that Camila’s chart? I tried to look at it in the system but my log-in won’t work on any of the computers.”

  “That’s because Dr. Patel had IT disable it until Monday. He knew you’d be up here, sniffing around. You just can’t help yourself.” She has this uncanny ability to speak as if your mere existence on Earth is enough to grate on her nerves.

  “Are you serious?” My eyes go wide. “They can do that?”

  “As far as I know, it’s the first time it’s ever been done. Consider yourself special.”

  She goes back to typing, her lips pursed in a tight line.