Page 86 of Grimstone

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” His fingers dig into my jaw, and his amber eyes bore into mine. “If I wanted to fuck some heiress, I would. I’m right where I want to be.” He dips his head to kiss me firmly on the mouth. “So shut up and watch.”

The wind is shifting, dying down. The waves flatten and alter their angle. The blanket of cloud darkens from gray to a deep, bruised purple, while the light changes from silver to scarlet.

We can’t actually see the sun, but it must be setting—the light becomes deeply saturated, the flat, shining surface of the bay as brightly crimson as a lake of blood. Dane and I stand on the spit, steep black cliffs on either side of us, flaming water all around.

“My god…” I turn slowly on the spot. “It’s like standing inside a volcano…”

Dane’s hand slips under the waistband of my jeans to rest on my bare hip. He pulls me close against his side so the cold water around our feet is nothing compared to the heat of his body.

“I thought you’d like it.”

I don’t just like it—I’m drunk on the rich red light and the ink-black beach and the mind-bending experience of standing in the middle of the bay.

I turn and kiss Dane, feeling the firmness of his lips against mine, the delicious taste of his mouth, the hard swells of muscle beneath his clothes…

Kissing Dane is nothing like kissing Gideon or Tom. With Gideon it felt perfunctory, something we’d do before we had sex. Tom was like being attacked by a wet and rubbery squid.

Kissing Dane is like huffing the air out of his lungs—an instant high that fills my body with his scent and his taste. My head spins and my limbs get warm and heavy.

It’s like he’s tasting me, testing me…his tongue touches my lips, my tongue, the inside of my mouth…his hand moves through my hair and down my back until my whole body is wrapped up in this kiss, every part of me except my frozen feet.

“Why were you arguing with Tom?” I murmur against his neck.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“You want to hear me say we were fighting over you?” His smile flashes as he grabs a handful of my hair and tilts my head back, kissing my mouth, my jaw, and all down my neck…

“Yes,” I say, like a whisper, like a plea.

“Alright…I saw him looking through your car window, and I provoked him on purpose because I’m jealous. I’m jealous that he gets to come to your house, and I’m jealous that he’s fixing your lights. I’m jealous that he talks to you, and I’m fucking enraged that he dared try to kiss you the moment I left the party. I want you all to myself, and I don’t care if I have to fight every person in this whole damn town.”

That feels so fucking good I could come just from his voice in my ear.

I’ve never been pursued by a man like Dane. Guys like Tom, plenty of times, but never by someone who makes me feel like I can barely breathe when he’s in the room, like I’ll do anything to get him to look in my direction, like I’d give up an hour of anybody else’s conversation for a minute of his.

His kiss is better than any sex I’ve ever had.

I kiss him and kiss him in the bloodred water until the wind begins to blow again and the waves shift, rising past our knees.

I kiss him until I feel both his hands on my body, his arms wrapped around me, crushing me close. We kiss as the water rises up our thighs and the light changes from red to violet. His lips devour mine; his taste is sky and ocean.

“You lost your umbrella,” I say when we finally break apart. I can just see it floating away until it tips and sinks beneath the water.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dane says. “Sun’s almost down anyway. But the tide is rising.”

The next wave nearly knocks us over. We slosh back to shore, struggling to follow the sand spit with our numb toes. The light is fading fast, and the wind is picking up, cold spatters of rain coming in little bursts.

??Fire - Two Feet

We’re soaked practically to the waist, sandy and shivering, but as soon as my feet are on land again, I reach for Dane and he reaches for me. We lock together, our mouths ravenous, our hands tearing at each other’s clothes.

Each inch of his skin I uncover is smooth and clean, while I’m tanned, bruised, scratched, calloused, and tattooed everywhere else. Dane and I are nothing alike, or at least, that’s what I thought—but the more time we spend together, the less opposite we seem.

We’re more like two halves of a chemical reaction. Whatever we are apart, together, we’re electric.

---