Page 48 of Side Hustle
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“Holy shit, I’m freezing!” Hazel ran like a track star out of the water and over to where we had towels lying out next to the bonfire I’d lit earlier.
I’d seen a lot of women in skimpy swimsuits over the years as I gave tours on the water, but I’d never seen anything as lovely as a naked Hazel Redding. She wasn’t wrong—it was freezing as hell in that damn water—but if I went any faster, I’d miss the view. And right now that view included Hazel bending over to grab a towel. I was a dirty, dirty man for not looking away.
When the towel was wrapped around her and my view was gone, I hurried up, knowing she wouldn’t let me touch her unless my hands were warmer than subarctic. Hazel’s teeth chattered as she hovered dangerously close to the fire, but she didn’t lose the grin.
“S-see? Isn’t s-spontaneity f-fun?” She hopped from foot to foot, always in motion.
Based on the balloon in my chest and the fact that the muscles in my cheeks were aching from overuse today, I’d have to agree with her assessment. Instead of answering, I pulled up a playlist on my phone, one I’d found one lonely night in my house a few weeks back. It had reminded me of Hazel. The music came fast and loud out of my phone speakers.
“You know what else is fun? Dancing,” I said, dramatically dropping the towel from around my waist.
Hazel squealed and dropped her own towel, leaping into my arms in that way of hers. “Are you reading my mind right now, Mr. Bennett?”
I frowned. “Why do you keep calling me Mr. Bennett? Makes me think you have a thing for my father.”
Hazel’s nose scrunched up. “Ew. No. Haven’t you ever readPride and Prejudice?”
I glanced out at the ocean, a vague recollection of having watched a movie by that name. “I think so. Am I the dark-haired strapping fellow who gets the girl?”
Hazel giggled and the vibration did lovely things for my dick, who was all too aware of our naked state. “No, silly. That’s Mr. Darcy.”
Now it was my turn to scrunch up my nose. “Wait. Isn’t Mr. Bennett the old father who dies?”
Hazel tipped her head back and laughed so loud even the annoying seagulls gave us a wide berth. Her neck arched back and I couldn’t resist ogling her breasts pressed against my chest. Since spontaneity was the word of the day, I went for it. My mouth was on her neck and her laugh turned into a gaspy moan. Fuck, I was a quick learner.
We swayed to the music while making out, both of us extending out the moment without talking about it. Hazel probably still had at least twenty condoms at her disposal and yet there was something delicious about hovering on the edge of insanity but not indulging in sliding inside her tight little body. The song changed and we found ourselves down on the towel, Hazel above me with a curtain of wet hair surrounding us and making it feel like we had some privacy.
She finally broke away from the kiss and flipped her hair behind her back. Her breasts bounced with the movement and I held them with my hands, amazed she let me touch her so intimately. She’d always been the life of the party, too bright and happy to be with a bastard like me, and yet here she was, hovered above me, biting her lip like she couldn’t get enough. She lifted up to notch me between her legs, sliding back down so slowly we both groaned out loud.
Fuck, we forgot the condom.
“Hazel, wait,” I gritted out.
She lifted again and my eyes rolled back in my head. If she kept this shit up, we’d have a big problem on our hands.
“It’s okay. I take birth control.” Then she sank back down and groaned, her mouth falling open.
Oh shit. She’d just given me the green light to take her bare, something I’d never done before. My hands left her breasts and I flipped her quick, proud of myself for making sure she didn’t hit her head on the fire ring even in my frenzy. I thrust inside her hard and fast, reaching between us to find that rhythm she loved so much. I was going to go quick and I needed her right there with me. Her legs wrapped around my waist and sand stuck to our skin, but nothing was going to stop me. I could have been pecked alive by a seagull and still come hard and long inside Hazel.
Her breath started coming in quick gasps and I knew she was close. Finding purchase in the shifting sand, I slammed into her over and over, harder than I should have, but she let out little moans each time. Her eyes were squeezed shut and I suddenly needed to know that she was aware that it was me giving her this pleasure. Not some other guy far more suited to her. Me. Rip Bennett. The quiet weirdo.
My hand left her hip and tilted her head in my direction, a gruff command leaving my mouth after the next thrust. “Look at me.”
Hazel’s eyes fluttered open and I strummed my thumb across her clit harder and faster. She blinked but didn’t close her eyes again, her mouth making a cute little circle before she started quivering. Her muscles tightened everywhere, squeezing me and instantly triggering the orgasm I’d been holding at bay as best as I could. I sealed my mouth to hers, the kiss sloppy, yet perfect for the moment. My muscles gave out at the same time and I collapsed against her.
We lay in a contented heap, the waves and distant cry from the seagulls a lullaby that begged for a midday nap. I slowly shifted most of my weight to the side so I didn’t crush her, but we stayed locked together. It wasn’t long before Hazel was fidgeting beside me, her fingers dancing up my arm and tickling my nose.
“No napping, mister. We’re supposed to be celebrating,” she teased.
I pried one eye open. “I think all the spontaneity has worn me out.”
She snorted and pushed my shoulder, so I rolled onto my back. “You sound like an old man.”
“Would an old man have sand in his crack?” I grimaced, realizing only half my body was still on the towel.
Hazel lifted a leg and climbed on top of my hips, instantly silencing my complaints. I’d take sand in every crevice if it meant she straddled me naked. She picked up a handful of sand and let it slowly fall onto my chest like I was inside an hourglass.
