“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.