Heat Wave

“That’s it,” he groans, mouth at my neck. “Fuck yes. You’re so tight, Veronica, so fucking tight.”


I can’t say anything back to that, I can only breathe, my head back and face to the blue blue sky above. He starts pumping into me faster, deeper, controlled jabs of his hips against mine. The friction of the water seems to slow down time, making me feel every single inch of him as he thrusts in and out.

Someone has to be watching us, someone has to know that we aren’t just two people hanging out in the water. They have to know I’m getting royally fucked in public.

We’re so bad. But so, so good.

Each spot he hits brings me to a new level. I don’t know if it’s the shimmering water that envelopes us or the stark sunshine that illuminates everything, but I’ve never felt so alive and exposed at the same time. The darkness and the doubt and the guilt are banished for this sweet moment. It’s just us, all of our flaws and imperfections exposed. It’s us and we’re in this together, stronger for it.

I’m starting to think this man is my world. I’m starting to think he’ll never not be.

Logan looks up from my neck, staring right into my eyes. His breath is ragged and rough as he moves in and out of me, picking up the pace. But his eyes never break from mine and I watch as the fire inside them builds, just as it builds inside me.

I can’t hang on anymore. “Oh, oh,” I cry out softly. “I’m coming.”

“Fuck,” he swears, his eyes snapping shut as he thrusts in harder, deeper, his fingers on my clit rubbing me to completion. My legs convulse, trying to hold on as I let go and he pumps into me until he’s grunting and cursing into my shoulder, finding his own release.

“Don’t drown,” he manages to say, his voice thick and sated.

I grip the board harder, aware that I’m floating in the ocean while I’m floating in the stars. Just when I think he can’t make me come harder, when I think he can’t make me feel more, he does.

When I’ve finally caught my breath, I raise my head and give him a lopsided smile. “If this is included in every surfing session, you’re going to have a hard time keeping me out of the water.”

He kisses me softly on the lips before he slowly pulls out of me. “Freckles, you have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you in general.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face, eyes searching me for something. He almost looks pained.

“What?” I ask.

He gives his head a slight shake. “Nothing. I just…can’t believe I have you.”

My heart warms from those words. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to knowing that I’m his. “Of course you have me.”

“But I don’t want you just for now,” his voice grows softer, deeper, just as his gaze does. “I want you forever. Just like this. Under this sun, in these waves. With me.”

Something inside me is starting to break. Little cracks, here and there, in the hardened plaster that used to keep me together. If Logan keeps this up, I’ll be shattered in no time. There will be nowhere to hide and I’ll have no chance to rebuild.

I don’t know how to answer him. I’m feeling too much, my body still aching from where he was inside me. He clears his throat and looks up at the sun, squinting. “Well, since we’ve got a beauty of a day, we might as well take advantage of it. Your turn. Don’t worry, I won’t make you sing this time.”

“You better not,” I tell him. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you sang ‘Purple Rain’ to me again.”

“We’ll see,” he says.

So, I get on the board and he coaxes me to stand up on yet another wave, all while he is singing “Purple Rain.” Even if he made that shit up and I’m not the one singing, it still works.

Well, at least the first time it did. I bailed on the last two waves, getting pummeled both times. Guess I was picking waves a bit out of my league and getting over-confident.

Funny what love can do to you, I think as I drag myself out of the surf.

The thought nearly stops me dead in my tracks.

Love.

It’s nearly as terrifying as the wipeout. Hell, love is the wipeout. It pummels you, turns your world upside down until you don’t know what way is up. The only difference between the two, is when you’re underwater, there’s always the surface. When you’re in love, there’s no way out.

I’m not quite sure quite where I am in this emotion but the longer I’m with Logan, the more I’m tumbling, turning, and lost.

“You all right there, Freckles?” Logan asks as he comes out of the waves and onto the shore. “That last wave got you pretty good.”

I think you’ve got me pretty good, I want to say.