Page 42 of Whiskey Throttle
“You didn’t go easy on me inside.”
I snort.
“We obviously have two definitions of easy. I was making love to you then.”
Her grin flashes, wicked and rare.
“Oh, pretty boy, you have so much to learn about lovemaking.”
She means it as an insult, and I take it as one. Game on, Babs.
“Then show me your ways, my little sinner.”
My cock is hard, pushing into her. If she keeps this banter up, she won’t be playing with any other balls but my own. She suddenly breaks out of my arms, snatches the football out of my hands, and races across the beach.
I’m mesmerized watching Babs Barrett run naked, her privates on display and bouncing with her fucking steps. My cock watches in amazement too. Wanting to be right back inside her. I lied about my staff not worrying about this. Her actions might raise an eyebrow. I’d never tell her though. I’d never ruin the freedom she’s finding with me.
Thank God for air-tight NDAs.
I race after her, eating up the sand in no time, until I grab her around the middle. She shrieks in surprise, smiling so big my chest might burst with pride. The football slips from her hand when I lift her into my arms.
“Not the water,” she screams, crawling all over me to avoid the icy ocean.
She thrashes in my arms, twisting and laughing and cursing all at once. It only makes me grip her tighter. Lift her higher as I charge toward the ocean. The wind howls against us.
The waves crash against my legs. She gasps as the first icy spray hits her skin. I suck in my stomach. My lungs clamp shut. The shock of the Atlantic bites deep into my bones, but I keep going.
This wild, spur-of-the-moment thought is everything I want. One more step and I plunge us in. The world goes silent beneath the water. A rush of cold. Her nails dig into my shoulders. My body is stabbed with a thousand pins and needles from the icy ocean. We break the surface together, gasping, tangled, completely freezing.
“Oh my god,” she sputters, her hands pushing back soaked strands of hair. Her eyes blaze with disbelief. “You are absolutely ridiculous.”
She’s shivering and radiant. Her lashes are heavy with water, and whatever makeup she had on is gone.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
It hits me square in the chest. Sure, I’ve been with lots of women. Too many, if you ask anyone. But I’ve never felt like this. Never felt drawn to and scared of someone at the same time. She’s completely dismantled me. I’m in pieces trying to figure out my next move, which is not something I can recall struggling with.
Yet, she is not like any of the women who have come before her. She’s different. Not just because she’s my best friend’s mom, a thought I keep pushing out of my mind. No, she’s elegant. Aloof yet warm and friendly in her own way. A kaleidoscope of vibrant colors unseen by most of the world.
In a weird way, I’m privileged to see it. Honored to be a part of it. But something else pokes at my consciousness that’s beyond respect for her. Something that bothers me more than comforts.
She splashes me straight in the face.
“You’re going to pay for this, pretty boy.”
More water is thrown in my face, snapping me out of my strange feelings. Back to the here and now.
“I brought towels, but you never said anything about keeping you dry.”
Her attack is relentless. Smiling at my misery. It’s war after that. I lunge, but she twists away, laughing now. Unfiltered and fierce. The sound of a woman who’s stopped holding herself back. Who’s truly living.
Holy mother of sin.
It wrecks me.
We chase each other in and out of the waves, arms tangled, mouths brushing, the surf swirling around us like we’re the only two people in the ocean. Right now, on my private beach, we are. No one in their right mind would dare come out here and play in the water as we have.
And when she finally slows, when her body melts into mine with one last sigh of surrender. I wrap my arms around her waist, and she wraps her legs around mine.
