Franklin & Seventhbybarabajagal001©
"I want to see you."
"You know we can't."
"I don't care. This is driving me crazy." A long silence. "I won't come to your house. We'll meet outside somewhere and nothing will happen. Come on, please?"
"The beach, between Franklin and Seventh Streets, there's a curve in the storm wall-"
"I know where it is."
"Fifteen." Click. That was it. She was going to see him, and it was a done deal, but her heart was still beating far too fast. It had been weeks since they'd spoken, longer still since they'd seen each other. She missed him. They'd had so much fun together.
She remembered long drives along the coastline, music screaming out from her car radio as she took the scenic way home, always wanting to make their time together last a little longer. He never said anything about it, even though they hadn't confessed to each other how they felt, what they wanted. She remembered the smell of his cologne, of his sweat, as he rode in her passenger seat. Her air conditioning blew freezing air over them, but they were still always so hot.
The air was always so thick between them, when it was just the two of them. But she'd still been surprised when he'd admitted he wanted her, too. She hadn't wanted to look at him then, keeping her eyes steadily focused on the road. Then he'd touched her thigh, and she'd gripped the steering wheel even tighter, forcing her breath to slow as she rounded each curve.
That time, it had been night. Only under cover of darkness could she tell him. His hand was rubbing lightly over her thigh, and suddenly she was so, so hot, even as the cold, salty air gusted in through her windows. She'd pulled off the road at one of the beach entrance parking lots, and he hadn't said anything. He must have been waiting for her to make the next move, and after a moment of hesitation, she did so.
It had been the best she'd ever had - up until that night, of course. The light from the full moon had washed over the parking lot, and they'd fumbled in the backseat, hoping fervently that the patrol cars were all occupied elsewhere for the hour they were there. They'd finally emerged from the backseat into the cold night air, rearranging their clothes and feeling the sweat cooling rapidly on their exposed skin. They still didn't speak for a long time. Not until they had climbed back in the car and were almost back to his house did he say it: "Wow."
They'd both laughed together, and it felt like the first time. There hadn't been any discomfort after that when they were alone, which they were as often as they could be. They made love in her car too many times to count, and occasionally outdoors, under cover of night. But they couldn't go home. Around others, they tried to hide it. They wouldn't understand. Eventually the strain got to them - well, him. She'd managed to meet up with him a few more times, but he stopped taking rides from her, and eventually stopped taking her phone calls, too.
It had gone on long enough. She could no longer quell the persistent ache of desire. One way or the other, it would end today. Probably not the way she wanted, but it wouldn't do her any good to just give up.
So she went to the beach. He wasn't there. She climbed up on the storm wall and sat there, watching the restless ocean. It was overcast, breezy, cold. She drew her sweater tighter around her and was glad she had worn her long skirt. Once, it had been his favorite. She loved to see his eyes light up as she drew the skirt, inch by slow inch, up her legs. After a few minutes, she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the soft, scuffling sound of footsteps over the sandy pavement behind her.
She slid off the storm wall and onto the soft sand below, nodding her head at him to follow her. He, too, swung over the wall and then sat down, his back against the cold concrete. She sat next to him, taking her first good look at him in weeks. His perpetually tanned skin was mostly covered up with a green sweater and jeans, and his deep brown eyes obscured by the sunglasses he wore. Strange, to wear sunglasses on such a cloudy day. Maybe he didn't want her to see what was behind them.
"You can take those off. No one's here." It was true; the beach was empty today. After a moment's hesitation, he took off the glasses, setting them on the sand beside him. She saw his eyes running over her.
"What did you want to talk about?" She opened her mouth, but found that her words had all dried up. All she could think about was running her hands over his chest, feeling him inside her, their limbs entangling right there on the beach. She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to convince herself not to touch him. When she looked up, she knew the effort showed. He was looking at her warily. "Don't start."
"Why? Afraid you won't be able to stop me?" He just stared at her for a heartbeat. Then one word, a whisper.
She couldn't stop herself. Well, she probably could have, but she didn't want to. She leaned in quickly, touching her lips to his. He was the one who deepened it, pushing his tongue into her mouth and devouring her. She moaned when she straddled his lap, surprised to feel him already hard and pressing up against her. She touched it, and he grabbed her hand, pulling it away from him.
"Don't. I can't." She understood. But it wasn't going to change anything now. She let herself fall into him, and his arms came around her, holding her close. His tongue rasped against hers, her teeth, the roof of her mouth. He wanted her so badly; she could feel it.
This time when her hands went for his zipped, he didn't stop her. She felt him, so hard, so hot, and she hitched up her skirt with one hand, touching him softly with the other. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, and she shifted her hips until they were touching, heat against heat. He groaned, pulling away from her mouth.
"Fuck. What are you doing? We can't...they'll never understand."
"I don't care. I don't care what they'd say if they knew. I'm tired of being afraid. I just want you, this." He looked sadly up at her. Maybe it would always be this way. He waited. She knew she should stop, but she wasn't ready to give it up. She was already too far gone. Her hips slid downward, sheathing him in her tight, wet heat. Their lips met again, and they kissed fiercely now, giving little bites between long, deep kisses.
She rocked her hips up against his, feeling the sand shifting beneath her knees as she felt him for the first time in over a month. It just felt so right, like this was where they belonged forever. It wouldn't take long. He knew just what to do. He still knew. His teeth nipped gently at her neck, tongue laving the spot right behind her ear. Flicking his tongue wetly over her earlobe, he bit down, murmuring the words that would send her over the edge.
"I love you."
Before, it had always been like an explosion, the white-hot stars bursting behind her squeezed-shut eyelids. This time, she felt herself crumbling inside, breaking down before she was rebuilt around him. She rode him more anxiously now, seeking to end the breathless torment for both of them. Glancing down, she saw his eyes, so incredibly dark, boring into hers. He was teetering on the thin edge of something amazing, and she wanted to take him over with her.
"I love you, too."
She rested her lips on his again, lightly, licking one soft line over his lower lip as her hips bumped against his urgently. His fingertips dug into her hips and his eyes closed, muttering obscenities that made her shiver on him, caught in her own release. She felt him inside her, swelling rhythmically as he exhaled softly beneath her. Her head dropped down to his chest as she leaned in against him, hearing his heartbeat slow down and his breathing return to normal.
The beach wasn't quite as empty as it had been when they arrived, but no one was looking askance at them. She pulled back, and he zipped up his jeans underneath her skirt. He moved to stand up. and she rocked back on her heels, looking up at him.
"I have to go." She nodded, wishing the tears forming in her eyes would wait until he was gone. No luck. He reached down, stroking her cheek gently, wiping away the tear that slid down. She turned her face away. She didn't want to watch him go. In the distance, a dog was playing tag with the surf, darting in and out under the watchful eye of his master. A couple walked hand-in-hand nearby. When she finally looked back, he was gone.