Page 40 of Broken Hearts

She chuckles against my mouth, even as she whispers, “I can’t get enough either.”

My hand on her thigh slides higher now, gripping her hip under her dress. I desperately want to move it between her legs, find out if this kiss is driving her crazy too. Find out if it’s making her wet.

“Come inside,” I murmur against her mouth.

“Nate,” she groans, my name sounding sexy as hell as it falls from her mouth.

“Sage,” I reply, and this earns me another smile. My fingers trace the edge of her panties at her hip, itching to slip beneath the fabric. It’s been so fucking long since I did this, and even though I’m horny as hell, I know it’s not just because it’s been forever since I got laid.

It’s her. Sage. This girl who has walked into my life and turned everything upside fucking down.

“Should we really do this?” she now asks, her hips moving in my lap, her ass pressing against my dick in a way that’s driving me insane.

“Uh huh,” I murmur, my grip tightening against her hip. “I want you,” I whisper, unable to stop the words. “I wanna take you inside and explore every fucking inch of you until you’re moaning my name.”

Jesus, I can’t believe I’m telling her all of this.

But even as I say the words, Sage is groaning into my mouth, her hips shifting in my lap again as her palm smoothes across my chest.

“Come inside, Sage,” I moan, needing more. A lot more. “Please…”

His words takeon a desperate quality that I’ve never heard from him, and he’s different, wholly different from the guy I met when I arrived. He seems younger and happier and freer, and I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with me being here.

Moving so I’m now straddling his hips, my knees slide until they hit the back of the Adirondack chair, feeling his hard-on pressing against my center. The hard pant of his breath fans along my lips, our mouths so close that kissing him again is all I can think about.

I find comfort in him like I’ve never found in anyone else, sitting out here in the gorgeous night air of the islands, the air filled with the smell of sea salt and hibiscus, and when I close my eyes and inhale deeply, I’m surrounded by the smell of him.

Of surf wax.

Of coconut.

Of lust.

Of something that feels strangely like home.

My hands slide into his hair, tangling in the tousled mess of brown waves left this way from the ocean water, and I hold him tightly. When our lips touch, it feels like an explosion ignites inside me, trailing my tongue along the seam of his lips, he opens his mouth to me.

I taste the beer on his tongue, a hint of sweetness lingering, and I want to kiss him until I can’t breathe, until I’m exhausted and sated and desperate for air.

His tongue tangles with mine, letting out a soft groan as his fingers hitch the hem of my dress higher, exposing my thighs to the coolness of the air, the warmth of his skin sends goosebumps covering every inch of me.

“Sage,” Nate moans out, and I realize I haven’t answered him, my name a harsh rasp on his lips. “What do you want? Tell me.” Every word is breathy but controlled, calculated but desperate, and I feel it too. It takes hold of me, like a hostage and I’m not sure I can move.

My heart is pounding erratically in my chest, and I feel lightheaded with the sound of my own heartbeat pulsing loud in my ears.

What would my father think of this? Would he want me out here with Nate? Would he approve of this? I’ve never had a thought like this in my entire life. If I’m being honest, my father never crossed my mind when I had a boyfriend, knowing he wasn’t around to care, he wasn’t there to make me worry about what he would think.

And my mind swirls with curiosity, clouded with this desperate need to end the ache that has now pooled between my legs.

“I want…” I start, suddenly self-conscious about being so open with him, barely knowing anything about him. Not that I haven’t had random hook-ups, but this feels different, this feels like it could be so much more than that.

Nate reaches up, his fingers pushing back my hair, his thumb grazing along my jaw as his hand wraps around the back of my neck.

“You’re killing me here, Sage,” he murmurs, his words quiet and I rest my forehead against his, letting out a long, slow breath.

“I want you to tell me about you,” I say, closing my eyes and letting my words dance between us. I know this is not what he wants to hear, but for me, this isn’t just about sex. I might want him with everything in me, like really fucking desperately, but there’s more to him than just a hot body. And something tells me no one has ever asked him to talk about himself.

He pulls back abruptly; his eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed, and I swallow hard as I watch his face suddenly change. He’s back to the guy I met that first day, surly and standoffish, and when his hands drop from my body, I know I’ve ruined whatever was happening between us.

---