Page 112 of Wild Thing

When I’m ready, I pull out and cum all over her belly.

“You’ve been baptized beach style, wild thing,” I say, and she bursts into laughter, her naked body shaking as she rolls in the sand, getting dirty brown streaks all over her until I pick her up and carry her into the ocean.

47

ARCHER

I’ve arrangedwith Amir to have the conference call from the yacht the next day. I haven’t had a vacation in forever. Spending time with Kat makes me realize that I needed time to rethink what I’m doing next, my state of affairs, Gen-Alpha. Her…

We spend the evening having dinner, listening to music, and drinking wine, which, surprisingly, Kat has a taste for.

Kat is tipsy and smiley—the way I like her. Her gestures are careless as she half-lies on the couch in the main lounge, next to the open windows, and puts her feet on my lap. I like that too, and she’s a bit too tipsy to notice that I start rubbing them.

We share stories from our past, which makes me feel closer to her.

“I caught my parents having sex when I was ten,” she says. “My dad just came home from overseas. I watched them through a crack in the door. Didn’t understand a thing, you know, but it was exciting.”

“Already a nymphomaniac,” I say with a chuckle.

“Stop.”

“I used to spy on my parents dancing. In the living room,” I say.

“My parents danced all the time.”

“Yeah. That’s one of my favorite memories about our family. Mom was the only woman Dad danced with. Even at official events, functions, and all that government jazz. The other women who came later, after her—he just fucked them, kept them around just because. No one ever replaced her.”

I suddenly feel nostalgic and have an urge to bring back the memories that I never shared with anyone until now. So I go to the music system and put on the song that reminds me of the good old times but also everything I lost. Except this time, I can handle it with Kat next to me.

“Oh!” she exclaims when the song comes on. “‘One Of These Nights’ by the Eagles.”

I grin, approach the couch, and stretch my hand to her. “A dance?”

She hops onto her feet, a grin on her face as she comes into my arms.

It’s old rock.

It’s memories.

It’s someone to share them with.

It’s the sense that even when we lose the ones we love, we find those who can fill in the gap.

Kat feels perfect in my arms. Warmth envelops my heart when she lifts her face and asks, “What was she like? Your mom?”

I wish Mom got to know this beautiful girl.

“Soft. Kind. Loving. Yours?”

“Strong-headed. Pushy.” She smiles and adds, “Loving.”

We both laugh.

“Sounds like you, wild thing.”

“Believe it or not, Dad is kind and soft.”

“Shut up. Mr. Ortiz?”

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