We left our plates on the dining table, but I grabbed the half-empty wine bottle and my wine glass before instructing her to bring hers. I was making it all up as I went, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to get her alone.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked as I unlocked the gate that divided our section of beachfront property from the road. The land also had a small storage shed, a strip of manicured grass, a hammock between two palm trees, and a row of four chaise lounges. “We can have a seat…whatever you’d like. Your choice.”
Why do I feel like a bumbling idiot? This is Sam. My Sam. Because she means more to you than you thought possible after so much time apart and so little time together.
“Let’s go to the water. I want to feel the sand and the salt between my toes.”
“You read my mind.”
We kicked off our shoes and tromped through the sand, still warm from the winter sun, and headed toward the calm surf. I’d never envied the northern states where a walk along the beach in winter was done with thick coats and hats. The Atlantic was pristine that night, and the water gently lapped at the shoreline. In the distance, miles offshore, a large cruise liner and an oil tanker passed by South Florida.
“Oh my God,” she murmured to herself when we reached the place where the sand met the water. “This is it.”
“This is what?”
She turned to me. “The place where we were that last night—the last time we were together before.” She looked around at the beach and added, “Before everything changed.”
A rush of energy pushed through me, and I glanced at the beach too. I hadn’t forgotten that moment—it stood out as one of my strongest memories of her—but I’d been so focused on impressing her I’d overlooked the significance. And she was right. We stood in almost the exact spot.
“That was one of the best nights of my life.”
“Me too.” She shivered. “I had a lot of hope then. I was a different person.”
“You’re the same person, Sam.” I moved closed closer. “Better, maybe. Tougher. But the same person.”
“I don’t feel that way. I feel old. And worn out.” She sighed, and her gaze met mine. “Except when I’m with you.”
“I feel the same way.”
She smiled and raised her glass. “On that note, let’s have some wine.”
“Happy to oblige.” I poured her a refill then topped off my own. The bottle was almost empty, so I put it down in the sand next to us. We drank in silence, watching the waves roll in and across the beach.
“I don’t think I’ve done this year in years,” I said.
“Done what?”
“Just admired the view for what it is.” I clinked my glass to hers. “Just enjoyed it. It’s gorgeous.”
“It is.” As I enjoyed my wine, my nerves started to loosen. This was Sam, after all. I didn’t need to be on edge around her. I only needed to be myself.
“You know what? You’re gorgeous too,” I whispered, and it was true. The moonlight created a halo around her hair, framing her face and illuminating her creamy skin. She was like a soft angel, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to be all around her and inside her. “You’re stunning, Sam.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to say things like that.”
“Yes, I do. Someone has to tell the truth.”
“But I’m—”
In one swift movement, I closed the space between us and pressed my mouth against hers. In that action, I claimed her; the kiss was full of need and wanting and deeper than the one we’d shared in the hospital courtyard. I dropped my half-empty glass in the sand and tangled my fingers in her hair, the kiss escalating. There was no one else. Nothing else. No ocean. No sky. No moonlight. Only us.
And she returned it with the same fervor.
It was the kind of moment that awakened every cell inside me. I couldn’t contain the pressure building since seeing her again, and I didn’t bother to try. Perhaps this had been my destiny—my reason—to be in Palm Beach again. I certainly wanted it to be, if she’d let me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I said against her lips, my arms still around her, and my body as close to hers as I could be. Breaths pumped in and out of my chest in hard gasps, and I wondered if my ribcage would explode. I was hard, ready, and turned on. All the lingering emptiness I’d felt in the last few years faded away with every second that I held her. “Every year that passed without you in my life—I was empty. Missing something. Someone. And it was you.”
She moved her head and looked me in the eyes. “I feel that way too. Like I’d lost part of my heart. But now, I’ve found it.”
She crushed her lips to mine again, and I tasted the ten years of loneliness behind them, a decade of need that had gone unanswered.
“The beach house.” My breath was jagged and broken. “Let’s go there. Now.”
She nodded. “Right now.”
It was the green light I needed. I picked up the glasses and bottle from the sand, handed them to her, then scooped up her small body. She let out a small protest about being able to walk for herself, but I laughed and carried her anyway. I was in control, and I relished every second of it. I liked taking care of her, doing things for her. And I never wanted to stop.
When we arrived at the bungalow doorstep, I placed her on the ground, fished the keys out of my back pocket, and led us inside the small property. It was just right for that night—a place where we’d lock out the rest of the world and only enjoy each other.
“Here we are.” I flipped on the wall light switch.
We both knew what was about to happen. It permeated the air around us. We didn’t have to say it.
“Wow,” she murmured as she walked inside the one-room cottage. “There’s a lot more in here than I remembered.”
“It was renovated last year.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She laughed. “A bed and everything. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you planned it this way.”
“What can I say?” I gestured to the queen-sized bed at the far end of the room, which also contained a small couch, kitchen, bathroom, entertainment center, and entrance to an outdoor shower. “This place was built for those times when someone would need to spend the night at the beach.”
“As opposed to the enormous house across the street.”
“Of course. Why walk across the street if you don’t have to?” I closed the door. “Although, I don’t think I’ve used this place for its intended purpose ever before.”
“First time for everything.”
I crossed to her and swept her up in my arms again, dispensing with all the pretext and subtlety. I wanted—needed—her whole body, and I was ready to claim her.
“I’ve wanted this ever since I saw you at the party,” I murmured.
I crushed my mouth to hers. As we kissed, I walked her backward toward the bed, lifted her up, and placed her in the center of it. Her lips were sweet and needing, and they responded to my touch. I moved my mouth in a light trail down her neck then grasped her dress and unzipped the side. She lifted her body and I pulled the dress down it, revealing her breasts, flat stomach, creamy thighs, and shapely curves. I moved off the bed and took in the sight of her body.
Only a small pair of black bikini briefs stood between me and her nakedness.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“All the things I’m going to do to you. All the ways I want to please you. And all the ways I’m going to show you how much I care about you tonight.” Then I crossed back to the bed and pulled her underwear from her body. “And it starts right now.”
I spread her legs. Beginning with her ankle, I planted a pathway of kisses up her body. I took care to savor her calf, her knee, her thigh, and finally the sweet core of her body.
A moan escaped Samantha’s lips as my tongue found the deepest part of her, and her hips twisted with pleasure as I worked in and out, curling my lips around her sensitive skin. My hands caressed her stomach then traveled to her breasts. I kneaded her nipples as I licked and sucked her clitoris, moving her toward a release I knew she wanted with every cell in her being.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured. “Don’t ever stop. Ever.”
At the perfect moment, I raised up and unbuckled my pants. Then I kicked off my shoes and ripped my clothes off as fast as my fingers would allow. Found a condom in my wallet. Naked, I returned to her on the bed and angled myself on top of her.
“Are you ready?” I asked against the shell of her ear.
Her deep groan was all the confirmation I needed.
In two quick movements, I buried myself inside her. It was like coming home, and as we embraced each other on the bed, the warmth of our connection scratched an itch in the deepest parts of my body. I was all around her, and she was all around me, and together we raced toward the peak of our connection. And then we both came, something so unexpected and so incredible. I’d entered the room as one man, but I would leave as another. And I couldn’t think of anything better.
I wasn’t a virgin—I’d lost that my freshman year at Florida State—but sex with Davis Armstrong felt different. It was like our souls entwined as we connected in ways I hadn’t considered possible. Like we’d finished a connection that had been so cruelly interrupted by life. Lying on the bed of the beach bungalow, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Davis was asleep. He’d been asleep for hours. In fact, he fell sleep a few minutes after we’d finished, and the soft rhythm of his breaths had beat out a steady pace as I lay with my head on his shoulder. A few times, I’d closed my eyes too, hoping sleep would come.
But it hadn’t.
Instead, I stared at the ocean outside the floor-to-ceiling windows in the opposite side of the cottage and felt guilty. My mom was in the hospital, and I hadn’t checked in since before dinner the previous night. After a while, I slipped from the bed, found my phone in my purse, and sent my mom a text message telling her where I was and that I was thinking about her.
Once morning comes, I’ll tell Davis I need to head back to the hospital.
I slipped back into bed and regarded Davis. He was handsome. Caring. Better than I remembered. And in a lot of ways—safe. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten this lucky, but I was damn glad I had. I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to overtake my body.
The sharp banging on the bungalow door came several hours later. It woke Davis and I up at virtually the same time, and he bolted out of bed.
“It’s probably one of the staffers,” he said as he pulled on his boxers. “You’re fine, just stay there.” Sleep still coated his voice as he stumbled to the door. “I’ll tell them we’ll want some breakfast. Maybe granola. Or an omelet. Stuart makes some of the best ones I’ve ever tasted.”
He yanked open the door. Something dropped in my stomach as he did. I should have taken that as a warning.
“Grandad,” Davis said a nanosecond later. “What the hell are you doing here?”