Lovestruck: A Romantic Comedy Standalone

I look around, but there’s still been no sign of Will. I don’t know what kind of administrative shenanigans are involved when you have a situation like this. I text him as soon as I’m back in my room, and ten minutes later he still hasn’t answered. The tangle of sheets on the bed taunts me. Looks like our To Be Continued will be picked up tomorrow.

I pull on my PJs, a simple cotton tank and shorts, and wash off my seductress makeup. I’m just climbing into my bed when there’s a knock on my door.

At the sight of Will standing outside, my pulse skips. That’s the sort of untempered joy I should absolutely not be indulging in. But I’ll be damned if that easy smile doesn’t warm my heart just as much as it sparks a fresh fire in the more lustful parts of my body.

He’s got a folded blanket under one arm, and he brandishes a bottle of wine with a label I don’t recognize. Given who’s holding it, it’s probably both very pricy and worth it.

“I thought we might need to reset the mood,” he says. “Join me for a moonlit interlude? Somewhere nobody can find us, even if this whole damn place burns down,” he adds, looking determined, and I have to grin.

I at least got a little satisfaction before we were interrupted, but poor Will here must be just about ready to explode.

I close the door behind me. “Lead the way.”

We slip down the stairs. In the wake of the fire alarm, the hotel is nearly silent. Outside, Will guides me down a narrow cleared path through the brush to a more secluded section of beach. We emerge into a little clearing surrounded by curving palm trees.

Will spreads out the blanket under the dim glow of the near-full moon. The warble of the ocean waves provides a fitting background ambience as he pops the cork and takes a drink before passing it to me.

“Remind me to uninstall all the fire alarms,” he says, sounding worn out.

“Aww, come here,” I say, reaching for him. I’m not waiting around for the world to throw some other interruption at us.

He sets the bottle in the sand and leans over me. His fingers slide into my hair and kisses me.

Mmmm . . .

Somehow, even though we’ve been hungering for this for hours, this kiss is slower. Almost leisurely. I tug Will’s shirt off, and he makes short work of my pajama top. I want him just as much as I did before, and I feel the same intensity from him every time our eyes meet and in every caress. But there’s a steadiness, a sureness to the moment now. As if we both know we’ve finally passed every roadblock, and that this is exactly where we ought to be.

He lays me down on the blanket and strips off my PJs. The sand beneath it shifts to fit the planes of my body as he tugs off my shorts. His fingers trail back up my inner thigh to stroke over my clit. I squirm with a sharp inhale. My body is still humming from before, and this time when I reach for his pants, there’s no interruptions stopping me from stripping him bare.

Hello.

His cock is already so hard, I shiver eagerly as I wrap my hand around it. Will groans, leaning back on the blanket as I explore every inch. I can’t resist bending over to slick my tongue up that hard length. The stutter of his breath in response makes me giddy.

“Ruby,” he groans roughly. Then I take the head of his cock right into my mouth, and he can’t seem to produce anything but inarticulate sounds. He tastes so good, like salt and musk and Will, but it’s not long before Will tugs me up again and kisses me. His thigh presses between my legs, and I gasp and grind at the friction.

“Enough waiting,” he murmurs. His thumb circles my clit with just enough pressure to send sparks through me. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Yes,” I say around a whimper. Two of his fingers dip right into my pussy. I rock against them. “Please.”

Will keeps his fingers working inside me, stroking gasp after gasp out of my mouth. He retrieves a condom from his slacks pocket with his other hand. In what is possibly the hottest act I’ve ever seen, his gaze stays locked on my face as he tears the packet open with his teeth. I rest my hand over his, and we sheath his cock together. I spread my legs wider. He settles himself between them, his length brushing over the terrain his fingers just finished exploring. I arch up to meet him, and with a groan he plunges into me.

Yes. This. This is what I needed.

I rock with him, reveling in his firm length as it fills my pussy to the brim, over and over, building that delicious ache. We kiss at first, roughly, but before long our mouths are too occupied with the panting of our breaths. That sound and the wave of bliss gathering inside me mingles with the hiss of the surf. For a minute or two, a strange sensation comes over me, as if I and Will and the sand and the sea and the trees rustling with the breeze above us are all some vast interconnected being moving together toward this one purpose.

I’d laugh at myself if Will didn’t adjust his angle right then. His cock thrusts against the sweet spot inside me. A cry escapes me. I grip his back.

“Right there. Just like that.”

Will gives a hoarse chuckle. He speeds up his rhythm. All I’m aware of is the pleasure swelling through me with every stroke. The wave builds higher, and higher, and higher, until I’m throbbing with the need for release. My fingernails dig into his back. Then the wave crashes over me, so hard my vision shimmers. My body shakes against his and I cry out.

Will thrusts faster, and the wave of my orgasm rolls on and on, keeping pace. With a growl, he pushes himself even deeper than before. I cry out with a fresh rush of bliss. His muscles tense beneath my fingers, and I feel him shudder against me, both of us breathless and clutching each other as our climaxes roll through us.

Holy shit. What was that?

I’m not one to hold a grudge, but damn, I’ve got some exes who owe me refunds.

Wow.

Will slowly rolls off me. He kisses my collarbone, my jaw, before he finds his way back to my mouth. “You are incredible, Ruby Walters,” he breathes.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Will Cassidy,” I whisper back, and a strange feeling of longing twists in my chest.

I don’t understand it. How can I not be sated after that?

Except it’s not my body that’s still hungry. Part of me wants flowery words and promises, wants to be held like this all through the night. Part of me wants this to be the first of more nights than I can count.

I swallow hard. I can’t think like that. That path only ends in hurt. I drag my gaze away, toward the tossing surf at the foot of the beach, and inspiration strikes.

“So now that we’re down here, and stripped down, what would you say to a quick skinny dip?” I suggest, needing to get some distance from all this intimacy.

“Hmmm,” Will grins. “I’d say I like the way you think. But you already knew that.”