I moan ripped from my throat as I squeezed my thighs together, feeling moisture pool between my legs, slicking my body for something it wholly wanted.
He kissed every inch of my chest, lavishing attention on both of my girls like a dying man in need of his final meal. At some point, my hands found their way into his hair and I clutched at his scalp, holding him still yet urging him on.
When my hips started to move restlessly, he lifted his head.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. His lips were slightly swollen. His eyes were so dark they looked like the moonless midnight sky.
He lay down, putting his arms on either side of my body so he was mostly on the mattress but partly covering me. Using his hands, he brushed the hair away from my face and then he kissed me.
It wasn’t like the first time, the feather-light, barely there kisses. This was the kind of kiss I read about in books, the kind of kiss that ended epic movies and completely altered the world as you knew it.
His tongue delved deep into my mouth, as if he couldn’t get close enough, as if he wanted to climb inside me and do things to my body that no man had ever done before. His lips were insistent, but not rough, the kiss moist, but not wet. Our mouths didn’t separate, not one time; we didn’t break contact. We just kissed—endlessly, deeply, feverishly.
I clutched at his back, pulling him even closer, sucking his upper lip into my mouth and running my tongue over its softness. He moaned so I did it again. He gathered me just a little bit closer and the hard ridge in his shorts wasn’t to be missed. I could feel it pressed against the side of my hip and the ache inside me intensified.
My chest started to squeeze and it momentarily distracted me, so I managed to suck in just enough oxygen to keep my lungs happy.
Cam stilled his lips and pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. Both of us breathed heavily, our chests pressed together.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice thick and deep.
My hips lifted at the sound and the inner muscles of my vagina clenched. “Hi.”
“Do you kiss everyone that shows up at your door at six in the morning like that?”
“Just you.”
“I’m one lucky bastard.”
I giggled.
He pushed off me and stood, adjusting his shorts and T-shirt. “The beach is waiting.”
I groaned. He hooked me around the ankle and pulled me across the sheets. “I brought you coffee.”
“Okay, then.”
He chuckled and pulled me onto my feet. My head felt dizzy, like I drank too much the night before, only I hadn’t drunk anything at all.
“Put your bathing suit on. I’ll wait in the other room.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt before he could move away and I laid my cheek against his chest. His arms came up around me and he expelled a long puff of air as he settled his chin on the top of my head. “You make it really hard to walk out of this room.”
“I didn’t ask you to leave.”
He groaned. “Trust me, the thought of burying myself deep inside you is going to haunt me the rest of the day. But if I sleep with you now, you will always wonder if it’s the only thing I wanted from you.”
“Is it?”
He lifted my head off his chest and pinned me with his dark molten stare. “At first, maybe. But then I spent five minutes with you and in those five minutes I realized you weren’t just a warm body… you weren’t just the kind of girl I could get out of my system with a fling. I’m not really sure what any of that means… but I do know I’m not going to fuck this up by sleeping with you too fast.”
And that’s how he claimed the first piece of my heart.
* * *
We drove to the beach with the top down on his Mustang. The air was warm, but the moving wind was slightly chilly. But I didn’t mind. It was a nice contrast to the warm cup of coffee Cam handed me the minute I came out of the bedroom dressed in a hot-pink bikini and a strapless, black cotton cover-up.
I didn’t bother to do my hair. Instead, I just pulled it back into a ponytail with a simple black band and slipped a pair of wide-rimmed black sunglasses on top of my head.
Thanks to our impromptu make out session, I was more awake than usual, but I was still practically a zombie. He chuckled when I clutched the coffee like a lifeline, and he guided me out the door while I thrust my keys at him so he could lock up behind us.
I don’t think I’d ever been to the beach at such an early hour. It was stunningly beautiful, with the sky a little overcast and nothing but the sound of the surf in the quiet morning air. It seemed like we were the only two people on this long stretch of empty sand, like everyone else knew we were going to be here and we wanted to be alone.
I sat down and pushed my toes deep into the sand and stared out at the morning waves, spying a shrimping boat off in the distance. Cam laid down his board and then took up the space beside me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and we sat there quietly as the waves lapped at the shore and the breeze swirled around our bodies.
“You do this every morning?”
“Every single day.”
“Have you lived here all your life?”
“Yep. Born and raised. My mom says I have salt water in my veins.”
I smiled. “Did you make your board?” I said, gesturing to the large surfboard beside him.
“Yeah.” He pulled it around and I pulled my legs in closer to my chest to make room. I didn’t know much about surfboards, but I did know this one was beautiful. It was fairly long and wide and I figured it was because Cam was at least six feet tall. It was shaped like every other surfboard I’d seen, coming to a sort of point at the top.
The board itself was white, but it had this beautiful sea-green design across it, kind of like a scroll but a little more intricate. The design was heavier at the bottom end and then spread out more as it reached the top of the board. At the very top there was nothing but the white background. Written amongst the scroll design down across the bottom were two words:
Pura Vida
“What does that mean?” I asked him, tracing over the letters with my finger.
“Live purely. It’s a popular saying in Costa Rica.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He nodded. “Kind of embodies the way I try to live.”
“The whole surfer dude attitude, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Hmm, I sense a story.”
“No story, not really. My parents fought a lot when I was growing up. Never really in front of me, but when they thought I couldn’t see. Kids always see that kind of stuff, even when they aren’t looking, you know?”