Fighting for Forever (Fighting, #6)

“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?

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