Page 38 of Wilder Love
“Happy New Year, Shane.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. A slow, dirty kiss. Her lips were cold, her mouth warm. She tasted like lemonade. Like dirty secrets and hidden pleasures. There was a darkness inside Remy that I could taste on my tongue.
We spread the towels and blankets on the cold sand and she sat between my legs, her back leaning against my chest, my arms wrapped around her, so she wouldn’t feel the cold. It was slightly warmer down here on the beach, the bluffs protecting us from the bite of the wind.
“Tell me something good,” she said.
“Next year…thisyear, I’m going to be the world champion. Tell me something good.”
“This year I’m going to turn eighteen and then I can go anywhere and everywhere I want, taking pictures of all the beautiful and the ugly and interesting things.”
“You can come with me.” I said it half in jest, but the idea appealed to me.
“You can put me in your pocket and take me everywhere. Let’s never say goodbye, okay?” Her voice sounded small and sad, her words swallowed up by the night and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
I kissed the side of her neck and she cupped my jaw, turning her head to look straight into my eyes, searching for an answer, for some kind of forever.
Neither of us could make that kind of promise but I made it anyway. “We’ll never say goodbye.”
She turned around to face me and sat back on her heels in front of me, flattening the palms of her hands on her thighs. “I love you, Shane.”
I brushed a piece of hair off her face. In the moonlight, her skin glowed paler, like she was cut from marble. A beautiful face with perfect symmetry and flawless skin. But more than that, she was tough and strong and resilient. Funny, clever, brave. And I loved her.
“I love you too, Firefly.”
Her lips curved into a smile and without warning, she launched herself at me, her hands on my shoulders. My back hit the hard sand and her body landed on top of mine. She was laughing, although I had no idea why, and then she crushed her mouth to mine. My hands were everywhere. On her ass. Tangled in her hair. Brushing her thighs.
She was rocking against me, my cock lined up with her pussy, these little whimpers and moans coming from her lips as I nipped and sucked and bit those bee-stung lips. I released the lip I was sucking on and flipped us over, so she was underneath me. Which made everything so much worse and so much better, depending how you wanted to look at it.
I thrust into her between our clothes, dry-humping her on a freezing cold beach on New Year’s Eve. Her kisses were hungry. Open-mouthed and sloppy. There was no finesse in this at all. Her fingers trailed through my hair, her short nails scraping over my scalp, her legs wrapped around my waist. My dick was so hard and so erect, it was painful.
I needed to be inside her.
No. No, I didn’t. I couldn’t.
This was bad.
Fucking hell.
I pulled back, trying to slow it down and catch my breath. We were thirty seconds away from doing something we might regret. Our hot breaths came out in puffs of smoke, our chests heaving. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, lust-laden, her cheeks rosy from the cold but hot to the touch like she had a fever. My fingertips traced the curves of her face, her straight nose, her kiss-swollen lips, as she stared up at my face, her lips slightly parted.
“You’re beautiful, Remy St. Clair. So fucking beautiful.”
Her eyes filled with tears. They spilled down her cheeks. Silent, fat tears she didn’t try to wipe away. She averted her head and just let them fall and one by one, I kissed them away, catching each one on the tip of my tongue. Cupping her chin in my hand, I kissed her lips, her salty tears mingling with the sweet taste of her, my tongue delving into that darkness inside her.
“You taste like the ocean,” I said, my voice drugged with lust. Even her tears turned me on.
“You taste like home.” She threw her arms around my neck. “I want to drown in you.”
“SOS,” I muttered against her lips.
I was still lying on top of her, my hips between her thighs, still hard as a rock, my balls heavy and swollen with need. If it was cold out here, I didn’t notice. Like an addict who needed his next fix, I sought the warmth of her mouth again. Our tongues tangled in a dance, and there I went again, dry-humping her into oblivion. I was so close to shooting my load, it was pathetic.
One word fell from her lips. “Please.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and with all the restraint I could muster, I gritted out, “No.”
“Give me something to believe in.”
