Trix
Mason grips the long yellow foam board to keep it steady as I put one knee up to climb on.
“Straddle it first then lie flat on your belly.” His voice is gravelly, and the sound shoots straight between my legs.
I bite my lip and do as he instructs, straddling the wide board before bracing my weight with my arms and lying flat on my belly with my legs out of the water.
“Good.” He walks us out into the waves, pushing the board up and over the smaller waves. His crystal-blue eyes are scanning, as if every surge and splash of the surf is giving away some secret information that only he understands. “Open your legs.”
I jerk so hard I practically fall off the board. “Wh-what?”
He flashes a confident smile and runs his big hand up the back of my thigh, prying it open. “Trust me.”
Propped up on my elbows, I drop my forehead and allow him to manipulate my legs. Having to watch him on the beach, all that messy blond hair and muscles that caught the attention of every woman within eyeshot, it was impossible to not get turned on. And now, with his shirt off and his board shorts hanging low on his hips to expose the “V” of his lower abdomen, it’s enough to have me drooling and ravenous. I need him to touch me, as if I’m sinking and his touch will keep me afloat.
The tail end of the board dips, and the heat of his body hits the insides of my thighs. I squirm to look behind me, but a firm hand at my hip stills me.
“Steady, babe. Don’t wiggle.” A wave comes toward us. “Paddle.”
His shoulders and chest press between my legs and keep me steady as I push with my arms. One then the other, I thrust my hands through the water. When the wave comes, the power of Mason’s stroke propels us up and over. A thrill of adrenaline races through my muscles, and I push harder, up and over, wave after wave.
“Atta girl, Trix. Keep it up!” His encouragement spurs me on, salt water splashes into my eyes, and I squint past the burn and continue to paddle.
Briny ocean water sprays my teeth, alerting me to the fact that I’m grinning wide, but damn if I can help it.
My chest feels light and my arms weaken, but the weight of Mason at my back combined with the power of his body pushes me harder. Finally, we make it out past the breakers, and I holler out in victory.
The vibration of his laughter rumbles against my backside, and I swear if it were possible to have a full-body orgasm, I just had one.
A pinching sting against my ass makes me jump, and I whirl around to catch the tail end of a wicked smile. “Did you bite me?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “Can’t have your ass in my face and not take a bite, baby.”
I giggle, but it dies the second I lose the heat of his body as he pushes up to sit, straddling the board. “Steady.” He holds my hips in a firm grip. “Now sit up.”
Doing as I’m told, I gasp as I see the entire ocean laid out before me in a vast stretch of dark blue with dancing flecks of yellow from the sun.
“Wow.”
“Amazing, right?”
“It’s incredible.” Maybe it’s the kiss of salt against my skin combined with the cool water and warm sun, but I’m tingling. Or maybe it’s the man at my back. “I’ve never felt so tiny or insignificant. It’s like a different world out here, ya know?” I’m glad he can’t see my face as embarrassment overcomes me.
“That’s what I love about it. Out here there’s no judgment, no expectations. It’s just you and eighty-two million billion gallons of salt water.”
“That’s a lot of water.” I breathe deep, taking in the damp ocean air, and close my eyes. The crashing waves and cawing seagulls lull me to a place where I’m only a girl with a boy. I don’t hear the cries of my sister, don’t see her mutilated face, or feel the pain of her loss. As my legs dangle off the board, I’m free to bob with the ebb and flow of the tide. Not anchored to my promises, obligations, but completely unburdened. And for a moment, I pretend I’m who I want to be, not who I need to be.
His hand runs down my bare arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He shuffles forward, and the heat of his chest hits my back, his strong thighs framing my smaller ones. Big hands run over my hips, around my belly, and his breath is hot on my shoulder.
Just a girl . . .
His lips trace an invisible path to my neck.
And a boy.
I drop my head back and relax into his embrace. He moans and slides his hands up to my breasts, cupping them gently before running his thumbs back and forth over my peaked nipples.
“Torture not being able to touch you.” Squeezing my breasts, he bites my shoulder as a delicious combination of sensations rack my body.
I shift my gaze left then right and find the closest people are surfers, but they’re at least fifty yards away and closer to the beach. Perfect.
Slow and carefully, I press forward and pivot around, reversing my position so that I’m now facing him. His eyes flare, and his wet hair is dark blond now as it sticks to his forehead, making his eyes appear brighter. He lifts my knees and pulls my thighs over his. I suck in a breath as his hands go to my face, tilting my head to dip in for a long deep kiss. Salt, coconut sunscreen, and mint flood my mouth in a delicious combination that has me moaning into his mouth. His grip tightens, and my head swims as his tongue lashes against mine. I hook my arms around his neck in an attempt to get closer. Our damp bodies slide easily and he groans, fisting my hair as the centers of our bodies make contact. One hand on my ass, he tugs me up and onto his hips. I wrap my legs around his waist and grind down against his hardness, searching for much-needed relief.
He rips his mouth from mine, panting. “Shit . . . I need you.”
“Shhh, babe. This time,” I whisper against his lips, “I got you.”
I slide my hand between us and unlace his board shorts, dipping my hand inside and taking him in a strong grip.
A growl rumbles in his throat and power surges through my veins.
He leans back, propping his weight against the board behind him with one hand while the other is still threaded in my wet, salty hair. He watches my hand wrapped tightly around him, stroking, and rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.
My heart races, and my legs quiver at the visual of him watching me pleasure him. How could something so seemingly innocent feel so weighted with meaning?
“Feels so good, baby.” His grip in my hair gets tighter. “Don’t stop.”
I lick my lips, wishing we were somewhere more private where I could get away with more. I quicken my pace, and his abdomen flexes. The fly of his shorts loosens more to have him almost completely exposed but hidden between our bodies.
He pushes up, and I drop back off his lap and onto the board. His hand dives between my legs, and pushing the thin fabric of my bikini aside, he buries two fingers inside me. I cry out at the intrusion, forcing my eyes to stay focused and avoid rolling back into my head as he meets every stroke with a thrust of his hand. I hold onto him with a hand gripped into his hair behind his neck, and we chase down our orgasms with a primal force that I’ve only felt around Mason.
Needing so badly to bring him pleasure with my hand while showing him how good he makes me feel is a heady mixture. Our lips crash together, hungry, uncoordinated, but beautiful in their untamed passion.
His body tenses seconds before mine implodes. Stars dance behind my eyes as I slam them shut and bite down on his lip to muffle my whimper. He pants heavily against my mouth; our chests touch with the force of each inhale.
“You okay?” He massages the spot on my scalp now warm from where he was fisting my hair.
“Yeah, I am.” I’m grinning so wide he has to hear it in my voice. “Are you?”
I sit back, as he rights my bikini bottoms and tucks himself back into his shorts.
“Baby, I’m way fucking okay.” He flashes a smile that promises a thousand kinds of dirty then grips the board and throws his weight to one side, capsizing our little love canoe.
The cool water against my heated skin refreshes me and draws me from the lazy post-orgasmic slumber. When he comes to the surface, he shakes out his hair and pulls me to him, holding to the board to keep us afloat.
His lips run along my hairline, and he inhales deep. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, but honest to God, I can’t control myself when we’re together.”
With miles of ocean at our backs and far away from the breaking waves, too distant for anyone on the beach to see what we’re doing, I can’t think of anything better to do out here than what we just did. Oh, well maybe one thing.
“I’m glad you did. I’ve been wondering how I would get through the rest of the weekend without touching you.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “Who thought bringing the kids to the beach would be a good idea again?”
I laugh and drop a quick kiss on his lips. “You did, remember?”
“Changed my mind.” He drops his eyebrows low, his voice serious. “I’m ready to take you home.”
“We are home.”
His eyes dart to the side, and a slight grimace twists his lips.
I cup his jaw. “Hey, what is it?”
He recovers immediately, as if he didn’t even realize how much his expression gave away. “Nothing.” He kisses the inside of my palm. “Now, are you ready for your surf lesson?”
Almost as if on cue, a large wave breaks just ahead of us. “Out here?”
“No. We’ll go to the baby waves closer to shore. I just brought you out here for privacy.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Smart man.”
He grips my thigh, and with one more kiss, he hoists me back up onto the board. We resume the same positions and paddle closer to shore. At one point, a large wave swells up behind us, and Mason tells me to hold on. He paddles hard and then stands up between my legs. His powerful legs work to steady us as we ride the wave in. Flat on my belly I laugh as salt water splashes my face, cooling and reviving.
“Alright, surfer girl.” Once the wave dies, he hops off the board in shallow water. “Let’s see what you got.”
My belly flutters with nerves, or maybe it’s the sweet way he called me surfer girl.
“I’m ready.” I push back to center myself on the board. He keeps it steady in the waist-deep water, and his eyes cast back toward the incoming, but manageable, waves.
The sun shimmers off his wet abs, and my lips tingle to lean in for one taste.
“When I say go, paddle hard.” His gaze stays back as if he’s reading the tide. “When you feel the board catch, you wanna pop up.”
“Pop up?”
He nods and fixes his eyes on me, the blue seeming brighter surrounded by thick dark, wet lashes. “Stay centered on the board. Keep your feet at the back, here.” He slaps the tail end. “The sweet spot. Once you feel the board catch, push up on your hands.” He shows me by locking out his elbows in front of him. I nod. “Then push back on your knees. From all fours, bring one foot forward, but keep the other one where it is, then stand.”
Hands, knees, all fours to a lunge, stand. “Got it.”
“Always keep your feet centered and don’t forget to bend your knees.” He swings his gaze back to the incoming waves.
“Paddle, catch, pop. Okay, I can do that.” I crank my head around and follow his gaze to incoming white water. “This one?”
“No.” His triceps flex under the pressure of the wave that pummels me and the board, but his grip keeps us in place. “Okay, this next one.” He squints for a second before swinging excited eyes to mine. “Ready, surfer girl?” His lips tilt and salt water drips off the tips of his hair.
I blink and turn forward. “Ready.”
He angles the board just right. “Paddle as hard as you can. You’ll know when it catches.”
I nod, my belly flip-flopping like crazy.
“’Kay, babe, here ya go.” He shoves the board just as a swell builds behind me. “Paddle!”
My hands dig into the water, one after the other. Hard and fast, I push through the ocean until my shoulders burn.
“Shit, shit, shit, I’m gonna miss it.” I groan and throw every last bit of my strength into pushing myself ahead of the wave.
Then it happens. The board thrusts forward on its own.
“I did it!”
“Atta girl!” Mason’s voice is laced with pride. “Now pop up!”
Pop, right! I push up to my hands and knees then wobble. Stay centered. Bringing one foot forward, I pop up. The board tilts, almost tossing me off, but I regain my balance. I did it! I’m not going nearly as fast as Mason and I did on the bigger waves, but I’m still moving.
“Go, Bea!” My siblings cheer me from the beach, and I sway but manage to stay up on two feet.
“Yeah, baby!” Mason yells.
Holy shit! I’m surfing!
“Woo hoo!” My holler is mixed with my laughter as the power of the ocean propels me forward.
And for the first time since before Svetlana died, I feel free.