An Unforgettable Storm

It was raining—not just a light sprinkle, but a downpour that left puddles on the sidewalks and filled in the low spots of every street for miles. I stared out the hotel window and sighed. Three days into my vacation and I hadn't been to the beach.

A trip to the hotel pool proved a waste of time. Children splashed and played in the water, their screams reverberating off the walls of glass. I was bored. Sightseeing was out until the rain stopped. Shopping was an option but I hadn't flown a thousand miles to wander through a mall. The hotel shuttle stopped at an assortment of restaurants but eating alone didn't appeal to me, either.

When I planned my trip, I looked forward to sharing a beach with sunbathers, sandcastles, and swim fins. I wanted beach umbrellas, coolers, and impromptu games of Frisbee. As nice as it was, my hotel room didn't excite me. I wanted to go to the beach. Making a snap decision, I packed a tote bag, slid my arms into a sweatshirt, and left the hotel.

Waves several feet high crashed into the deserted shoreline while I huddled deeper into my sweatshirt in a futile attempt at staying dry. Suddenly, the irony of trying to stay dry at the beach lightened my mood. I stashed my tote bag behind a large piece of driftwood before running into the churning water.

The beach was my favorite place to be. I loved the constantly changing shorelines and the rolling waves. My laughter lingered in the air. I splashed and jumped into the waves like a child. When I ran out of energy, I sat in the sand, shrieking when the cold water saturated my shorts. A combination of water and sand splattered my thighs with each wave. The skies turned darker even as my boredom disappeared.

"It's raining."

I heard the voice a second before a tanned leg appeared at my side. It wasn't just any leg, but a firm, muscular, male leg. I began to speak but the clouds chose that moment to slam into each other. The bottoms split open with a horrendous rumble that shook the ground. Rain burst from the clouds and stung my skin before dripping into the sand. Lightning snaked across the sky in angry streaks.

"Quick! We need to get out of the water!"

The stranger jerked me to my feet and pulled me behind him to a small overhang nature carved into the sand. We clung to each other in the tiny space in the same way lovers clung together. His breath warmed my neck even more than my sweatshirt did. I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see anything except the small patch of skin inches from my eyes. The wind whipped sand into the air and deposited it at our feet. I felt the stranger's arms repositioning and panicked.

"Don't leave me!"

A gust of ripped my words from my throat and scattered them over the water. I wanted to scream but if I had paid attention to the weather, I wouldn't be in danger. He shook his head and hugged me tighter. Several deep breaths relieved some of the tension in my body and I slumped against his chest.

He seemed unaware of anything but the storm. I closed my eyes to block out the lightning and discovered another storm. His cologne teased my nostrils. The faint scent of lime tempted my taste buds. Electrical charges scorched my skin everywhere his body touched me. I struggled to discern the thudding of my heart from the thunder clamoring above.

I wanted his hands on my back, exploring my skin, and teasing my breasts. Heat warmed my skin at the images filling my head. He was a stranger. I didn't know what his intentions were or why he was on the beach. Yet I wiggled closer.

"Are you cold?"

I grabbed the excuse and nodded, hoping he would pull me even closer. He snaked his arms around my waist. One strong hand slipped inside my shirt to rest on my stomach. That initial touch scorched my skin. With each clap of thunder, I burrowed deeper into his chest, pressing my breasts into him.

I tipped my head back to speak but forgot what I wanted to say when I looked into his eyes. Dark, almost black, they reminded me of danger. I thought back to the moment I saw his leg at my side. I should have been afraid then but the chaos of the storm took precedent.

Three days I spent inside the hotel waiting for the sun to shine. I shouldn't have been bored because I shouldn't have been alone. But I wasn't alone. The stranger was here, protecting me from danger, holding me as close as a lover would. If he had intended to hurt me, he wouldn't have helped me, I rationalized. At that exact moment, I wanted him to touch my breast. I longed to feel his fingers creeping over my skin on their journey to explore my nipples.

"We can't make a run for it with all this lightning."

He yelled even though we were inches apart. His comment shouldn't have excited me but it did. I turned toward him to let him know I understood and gasped. Those black eyes looked straight at me. Then his thumb grazed my nipple.

I didn't hear the thunder or see the lightning. He wasn't a stranger anymore but a man I wanted. I didn't care that we were on a public beach.

"Please," I whispered.

"Move back and face me."

I followed his directions without hesitating. He squeezed my breasts and twisted my nipples as if he had done that very thing hundreds of times before. I felt the dampness between my thighs that had nothing to do with the rain.

"This is insane," he said during a lull in the thunder. "All I can think about right now is plunging inside you until I explode."

"No one is here."

He pushed my wet shirt up and kneaded the flesh, watching the nipples pucker and tighten under his touch. I cupped the bulge in his shorts before closing my hand over him. The wet material made unzipping his shorts difficult. Yet I felt him surging into my palm in just seconds. We touched and explored for several minutes, ignoring the rain and wind.

"Lift up," he said, tugging on the elastic waistband of my shorts.

I attempted to help but he brushed my hands away. Tucked into the small space as we were, I couldn't open my legs the way I wanted to. It didn't matter. He shifted, grabbing me at the waist, and slid under me.

"Oh, god," I murmured.

"I don't have protection."

Sheets of rain distorted the soaking wet landscape. Drops of water clung to my eyelashes. But I saw him as clear as if it was a sunny day. Disappointment filled his eyes as he waited for my answer.

"I don't care. Please, don't stop now."

The storm within me built to match the one outside. I needed what he offered. He stared at me for a moment, as if assessing my character. I didn't think. I didn't want to dissect my actions or question his.

"Please," I whispered against his neck.

A horrific crash of thunder masked his answer. I didn't need it. I felt it instead. He pulled my legs apart as far as he could get them in the confined space we occupied. Then he thrust. One deep thrust that tore into me with enough force to rival that of the storm. I screamed. I moaned.

We moved as one, remaining in that tiny space as he pounded me the way the waves pounded the rocks. I held nothing back, giving him everything I had. I ground myself against his shaft until I thought I would pass out. He urged me on with moans that I felt more than heard. At some point, I slid my hand between us and squeezed him.

The winds roared across the beach in a high-pitched scream that matched my scream as my orgasm raced through my body. He didn't let up until the final second, lifting me away as he emptied himself on my thighs.

"Fuck, I can't believe . . ."

We huddled in that tiny space as the storm raged on around us. It occurred to me that any form of happiness or contentment might not be the best emotion to display even though I was happy right then.

I dozed, exhausted from the stress of the storm and the intensity of our coupling. When I woke, the sun was out. And I was alone. If not for the stickiness left on my skin and the glorious ache between my thighs, I would have thought it was all a dream. I leaned back into the sand and smiled.

The sound of voices had me scrambling into my shorts. I crawled out of the overhang to see an older man standing near the water. Three women lounged in beach chairs. Several children played in the damp sand.

"Quite the storm, eh, missy," he said.

I walked past him with a smile. "It was unforgettable."