Heart by Nicola Hudson
Neve can barely contain her excitement as we drive along the Brighton shorefront, the sea shimmering in the August sun. I can feel it in the way her fingers clench my thigh and her constant fidgeting. Try as I might, I can’t stop looking at the ever-increasing amount of leg on show as her squirming pushes her skirt higher and higher, exposing more and more of her smooth skin. Skin I want—no, need—to run my fingers across. Skin I know gets softer and softer the higher I get. The harder I get. Keep your eyes on the bloody road, Jake.
“Look, it’s the pier! We could go tonight! We’ve never been to the fair! I can’t believe we’re actually here!” I can’t believe we’re actually here, either. Hours away from home, but this is where she will soon be. Hours away from me.
Before the black cloud, which is now permanently on the horizon of my mind descends, I try to just focus on the weekend ahead. “Sounds like a plan,” I say, smiling across at her. The open window ruffles her hair and, yet again, I am overwhelmed by how beautiful she is. If I believed in God, I’d spend my days on my knees, thanking him for bringing her into my life. For bringing light into my dark. As it is, I don’t know what I’ve ever done that deserves such a return.
“Fancy a paddle?” I ask, manoeuvring the van into a parking space. Neve’s squeal of excitement makes me laugh, and I swear she’s out of the van before I’ve even grabbed the keys from the ignition.
I take her hand and we walk down the steps to the beach. The pebbles crunch and shift under our feet, turning our walk into the gait of unsteady drunks. Neve’s breathless laughter as we tighten our grip on each other catches on the wind, making an older couple nearby look over and smile. I smile back, knowing we look like the perfect vision of a young couple in love. And we are.
For now.
We stand at the surf’s edge, Neve in front of me, her back pressed to my chest. Outside of bed, this is probably my favourite way to hold her. She fits perfectly into me: her head under my chin, her slight body within the width of my chest. I wrap my arms closer around her, unsure whether it’s protection or possession which compels me to do so. I just know that holding her tight like this soothes me, calms me. She shields me from the noise of life’s strife. I wonder who the hero is here.
A couple of hours later, I hold open the door to the B&B Grace helped me book online. I just hope the pictures on their website aren’t a scam and our first holiday together isn’t going to be spent in some windowless cell.
Neve’s reaction to the pure-white bedroom reassures me and I breathe a sigh of relief. My own response is almost as strong as hers, but mine is more about the king-size bed than the sea view. It will be a luxury after the narrow cosiness of single beds on the only nights we’ve slept together before. We’ve been together for eight months, and I can still count the number of those nights on my fingers. If loving her within such confines was amazing, what is the luxury of this bed going to be like?
Aware I’m getting hard at just the thought of sharing a bed with her, I follow Neve’s oohing and aahing into the bathroom. The sight of a huge, walk-in shower does nothing to calm my imagination. If it was up to me, we wouldn’t make it out of the room for the next three days.
Pulling on my hand, Neve leads me back into the bedroom, a familiar grin on her face. My heartbeat quickens, sensing what may lie ahead. She steps away, pulling her tee shirt over her head and shimmying that oh-so-short skirt down over her hips. I can’t stop my eyes skimming down from her face, past her heart-mark, over the fullness of her amazing tits and pausing at the triangle of skin hidden by her ridiculously, sexily-small knickers. If I was painfully hard before, I’m in bloody agony now and all I can think about is sinking into her. Reaching around to unclasp her pink lace bra, she smiles.
“What are you waiting for? We have a king-size bed, no parents and three days. I want you. Now.” I’ve never been this hard in my life and there’s no way I’m going to be able to hold out for long if she’s in this sort of mood. I love this sort of mood.
Neve steps toward me as I yank my shirt over my head. She raises herself on tiptoes and kisses me. Hard. My cock twitches in response, desperate to be released from the confines of my jeans. I grip her head in my hands as my tongue fights back.
“No, you don’t,” she says, pulling my hands from her hair and holding them behind my back. “I’m in charge.” Shit. Willing to let her play the role this time, I dutifully keep my hands behind me as she sinks lower.
I love this girl.