Today was the kind of day to write home about. I was walking down the streets of San Diego with a coconut-milk iced coffee in my hand, the sun was shining brightly overhead, there was a balmy breeze in the air, and I had just landed a huge contract from a client.

I couldn’t stop smiling. The temperature was about seventy-seven degrees, which was the ideal climate in my opinion. Nothing more, nothing less. I was on my way down to the beach in Sunset Cliffs Natural Park, looking for a place to clear my head and catch some rays.

The whole flight over here to California from Fort Lauderdale had been a mess. The seat I had was a middle seat wedged between two less-than-pleasant aisle mates. On my left was a potbellied business guy who talked loudly into his bluetooth earpiece the whole time, getting increasingly more drunk on those tiny bottles of vodka. On my right was a sweet young woman who would have probably been a wonderful, quiet person to sit next to except that she was flying with her infant child, who was not pleased about being on a plane. The baby screamed and cried the whole way here. I took a page from the bluetooth guy’s book and bought myself a rum-and-coke just to get through the stressful flight. Normally, I preferred to fly business class or even first class, but since this has been such a last-minute trip, I’d had to settle for whatever was left.

By the time I’d landed in San Diego, I was a little buzzed and about ready to tear my hair out. But I had to go straight from the airport to my meeting with the client, who was all in a tizzy over the yacht coming in from Hawaii.

Turned out, the client was a middle-aged woman this time, buying the boat as a very, very expensive gift for her younger husband. She was concerned that the interior design of the yacht might be too feminine for his tastes and she needed me to comfort her and assuage her fears. When I arrived, the poor rich woman was chewing her perfectly-manicured nails, nervous as hell. I took her on a tour of the yacht, calmly and coolly explaining how easy it would be to redecorate and refurnish the boat to better suit her husband’s preferences. I had calmed her down enough by the end of the tour that she actually gave me a hug and signed the paperwork for the yacht right then and there. It was a huge gain for me. Forty-five minutes of consoling this woman and I had a massive sale under my belt.

So now I was celebrating. The adrenaline rush I got from making the sale was enough to propel me out of my hotel room and down to the shore with my iced coffee in hand. My hotel was only a few blocks from the park, which was perfect. I found a nice boulder to sit on, and then took out my phone. I wanted to call someone. No, not just someone-- I wanted to call Bruin. I wanted to tell him about my big sale. I wanted, for some stupid reason, for him to be proud of me. But I couldn’t do that. Not after the way we left things in Florida. I sighed, my adrenaline high wearing off as I thought about the sticky situation I was in.

I liked Bruin. A lot. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years, possibly ever. And not just in bed. My heart skipped a beat whenever I thought of him. I decided to call Anna Kate. Maybe she would have some sage advice. I dialed her number on Facetime and she picked up on the second ring, smiling at me from her kitchen, yet again.

“Hey, girly. What’s up?” she answered cheerfully. Then she squinted. “Wait, where are you? Do I hear the ocean?”

I nodded. “Yup. I’m in California. That is indeed the ocean.”

“Damn. I’m so jealous. You’re always jetting from coast to coast and I’m just here in my kitchen again,” she sighed.

“Yeah, you get to taste cookie dough and cake batter all day, what an awful life,” I teased.

“True,” she agreed. “How are you? I haven’t heard from you in, like, a week. I was starting to worry.”

“I was, uh, on a trip,” I said cagily.

She cocked her head to one side. “A trip? Without cell service? Where’d you go?”

I bit my lip. Should I tell her?

“Yes, actually. I was on a yacht off the coast of Florida,” I said slowly. “With Bruin.”

“What?” she squealed, dropping her whisk on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s crazy.”

“Tell me everything,” she demanded.

Well, I didn’t go into all the gritty details of our sexcapades, but I gave her the gist. “And then at the end, he got all cold and aloof again. Sent me off with just a short goodbye. I can’t help but think it has something to do with Jeff.”

“Hmm. Maybe? But why?” she asked.

“Because Jeff probably knows that Bruin has a daughter, and he probably thinks that means Bruin is too complicated for me. He still remembers Bruin as the reckless womanizer he was in college. He’s changed, though,” I explained.

She shrugged. “Well, if you’re so sure he’s different now… just go for it.”

“I can’t. It would ruin Jeff.”

“Jeff will get over it. Jillian, this is your love life, not his. You’re a grown woman and you can decide who to give your heart to,” she told me firmly.

I smiled. “You know what? You’re right. Look, I have to go. There’s something I need to do,” I told her. “Bye, Anna Kate.”

I hung up and headed back to the hotel, thinking I would call Jeff and just tell him to back off and let me live my life. I drank a couple glasses of wine, trying to work up the courage. I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering how to approach the subject. I was just starting to figure it out when suddenly the phone rang. Thinking it was Jeff, I answered without even checking the caller ID.

“Hi,” I said. “Listen—”

“Jillian,” the voice interrupted. It was not Jeff.

“Bruin?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yeah. It’s me,” he said gruffly.

“How did you?”

“I got your phone number from your business card,” he explained quickly. “And I needed to talk to you.”

“I-I wanted to talk to you, too. I just didn’t know how. And I thought you wouldn’t want me to anyway,” I rambled, feeling totally caught off-guard.

“The way we left things was terrible. I’m sorry,” he said. “I should never have stormed out that way. I just want you to know, I was never angry with you. Or anything. I don’t even think I could be. It’s just…”

“Jeff. I know,” I said quietly.

“Yes. That and… well, my daughter. There are a lot of moving parts in your life and in mine and I worry they would not overlap well,” he admitted.

My heart sank. “I understand.”

“But Jillian, I can’t do it. I can’t resist you. I cannot go back to the way things were before, when we were living in our separate worlds.”

I stood up, my heart racing. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, open the door.”

“W-what?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

There was a knock at my hotel room door and I gasped. No. Surely he didn’t.

I walked over and opened the door. Bruin stepped through and took my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. I dropped the phone on the floor and jumped up into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as he walked us backwards to the bed. He set me down and immediately began pulling off my blouse and skirt, tossing my shoes and leggings aside. He ripped off his shirt and leaned down over me, kissing me, his hands roving down my body. He cupped my breasts through my bra and I arched up into his touch.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I gasped. “How is this real?”

“Believe it, baby.”

“How did? How did you find me?”

Bruin smirked, unhooking my bra and throwing it across the room. “I have my ways.”

He leaned down and sucked my nipple into his mouth, making me moan. I rolled my hips upward, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. “Fuck, I missed you,” I groaned.

“The feeling is mutual,” he growled, sliding his hand down between my thighs to slip my panties down my legs.

He dropped them on the floor and then moved down to lick my wet slit. I whimpered as he nipped and sucked at my clit, his hands grasping my thighs, squeezing them, pushing them further apart. He plunged two fingers deep inside me, stroking my G-spot as he devoured me. I bucked my hips and cried out, already hurtling toward an orgasm.

“Oh God… Bruin,” I breathed. “It feels so fucking good.”

He hummed against my clit, the tiny vibrations sending me over the edge. I screamed and trembled, but he didn’t let up for a second. He only fingered me harder, making me quiver through a second climax moments later. “Oh fuck!” I wailed.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he said darkly, with a smirk on his handsome face.

He stripped out of his jeans and boxers, then climbed onto the bed beside me. He lifted me up to straddle him, positioning the head of his stiff cock at my dripping entrance. With my legs on either side of him, my body still trembling, he penetrated me to the hilt.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, feeling the head of his shaft brush against my inner walls. He sat up and leaned forward, pushing me back so he could suck at my nipples, his hands sliding around to grab my ass.

“Ride my cock, Jillian. I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he promised, grabbing my hips to lift me up.

He bounced me up and down on his shaft, striking so deep inside me it almost hurt. I began to rock my hips back and forth, losing myself to the overwhelming bliss of having Bruin fill me up so completely. His cock was so huge I could feel my pussy stretching, aching to accommodate him. I was on top, but it was clear that Bruin was still the one in control. He thrusted his hips up to meet me, ramming into me faster and harder every second.

“Oh fuck,” I whimpered. “Bruin.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Ride my fucking cock. I want tp hear you scream,” he commanded through gritted teeth.

I rocked back and forth, bouncing up and down until I was too overcome with climax to even move. Bruin grabbed my hips and fucked me harder, thrusting up into me until he tensed up.

“Fuck. Jillian,” he shouted, and his hot come filled me up.

He pumped into me a few more times, my pussy drinking up every last drop. Finally, we collapsed beside each other, breathing hard. I could feel his seed slowly leaking out of me. Bruin traced his finger down my nose and I opened my eyes. He was smiling at me, those blue eyes bright.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you, too,” I replied.