Cold Feet in Hot Sand (5 page)

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached for her

face. She closed her eyes and tensed when his fingers brushed her cheek, but she didn’t pull away.

Deanna opened her eyes. Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back again, and when she moistened her own lips, Nick shivered.

Then her eyes darted to his mouth again. She slowly lifted her chin. Just as slowly, he leaned closer, and there was no mistaking where this glacial momentum would take them if they let it.

Her breath whispered across his skin.

Nick swallowed. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.”

But she kissed him anyway.

Three

Up until this moment, she’d never given serious thought to kissing Nick, but in the seconds before it had happened, there had been no other possibility. No other alternative. Maybe she’d never thought of it before, but tonight, she’d needed it to happen, and it had. It was.

It ended all too soon, after more minutes had ticked by than she could possibly count. She drew back and looked up at him. She could barely see him in what little light crept down the beach from the distant bars and hotels, but she saw him well enough.

How did I ever
not
see this? How did I ever overlook you?

Nick touched her face. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t want to stop.”

“Neither do I.” He was the one to kiss her this time, tilting his head and moving in to claim her mouth.

Deanna couldn’t get enough of his kiss. It had been years since a man had kissed her this way, touching her face, her hair, her neck, kissing as much with his hands as with his mouth. His tongue parted her lips, and his fingers drifted into her hair as he deepened the kiss.

Her gut tried to warn her this was wrong, and on some level maybe she believed it, but in the moment, she couldn’t convince herself this was wrong or why it should be. Why this was anything other than a long, long time coming.

Nick slid his fingers up into her hair again. Then he leaned into her, and with his hand on the back of her head like a safety net, she let him guide her down until her back landed in the soft sand. Once the ground had her firmly in place, when there was no longer a danger of falling, she tugged at his shirt until he got on top of her.

With her body pinned beneath him, Nick’s kiss was breathless and desperate now, hungry and relentless, and she returned it with the same feverish fervor. He gripped her hair tighter, kissed her harder, but even as he did, he kept his hips above hers, lifting slightly when she tried to press her hips against him, like he didn’t want her to know how aroused he was.

Deanna hooked her leg around his waist and pulled him down to her. Nick groaned into her kiss as his hard cock dug into her hip. His body pressed hers into the sand, molding against hers like the sand molded to her back and shoulders. The kiss deepened and intensified, and with every touch, there was less and less turning back, less chance of this doing anything but happening right here, right now.

“Come here,” Nick breathed, and rolled onto his back. Deanna sat up, pausing just long enough to shake some sand out of her hair and clothes, then got on top of him. He curved a hand behind her neck and pulled her into another kiss, and as his tongue slid past her lips again, his free hand slid between their bodies. Beneath her skirt. Up her thigh.

Deanna shivered, moaning into his kiss as he teased her through her panties. His fingertip circled her clit through the thin layer of fabric, and her body moved of its own accord, her hips rolling
just
right to press against his fingers.

“Oh God,” she whispered, barely breaking the kiss. Her eyes rolled back as he brought the very beginnings of an orgasm to life with his slow, gentle touch. It felt amazing, but she ached for more, and her own voice seemed to come from miles away when she said, “Fuck me, Nick.”

“With pleasure.” He drew her down into a deep, violent kiss. She ground her hips against his, and the way his cock rubbed her pussy, she thought for sure she’d come any second.

Abruptly, though, he froze. Then he broke the kiss and let his head fall back onto the sand. “
Fuck.
We don’t have any condoms.”

“I have an IUD,” she murmured.

“Thank God,” he growled, and kissed her again.

There was nothing graceful about this, just primal lust and
blind fumbling and had they not been so caught up in kissing, they both probably would have whispered frustrated curses as they struggled with his zipper.

But the zipper finally gave. And he pushed her panties aside. And before she knew which way was up, before she could think once never mind twice, he was inside her, and they were moving, and hot sand ground beneath her shins and bit into her knees, but it didn’t matter because his thick cock fit perfectly inside her.

They kissed as clumsily as they’d struggled with their clothes, but their hips had it right. Smooth, fluid, striking that delicate balance between fast enough to turn them on and slow enough to keep this from being over too soon. Every time she moved, her clit rubbed against his body, and she whimpered as her climax closed in. Their bodies moved together like they were made for this, like there was a reason they fit together so goddamned flawlessly.

Nick groaned, screwing his eyes shut, and arched his back beneath them, thrusting upward as she rode him faster, and Deanna couldn’t hold back anymore. Her lips parted in a soundless cry as electricity radiated from her clit, sending waves of cool ecstasy to every last nerve ending in her body with every thrust and every motion.

He groaned, squirming under her, so she rode him faster, her vision blurring as every stroke pressed her clit against his body just right and slid his cock across her G-spot. They tried to kiss, but both were breathing too hard, so she closed her eyes and let her head fall beside his. Nick’s breath rushed past her ear, each exhalation sharper and faster than the one before, and she rolled her hips a little more just to drive him out of his min
d
.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “That’s amazing. Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m
—
” He sucked in a sharp breath as his back arched beneath her. Deanna rolled her hips faster, harder, taking him as deep as she could.

“Oh God, oh my
God
...” Nick grabbed her hips and pulled her down in the same instant he thrust upward, burying his cock as far inside her as he could, and he moaned as his entire body shuddered with the force of his orgasm and his last ditch efforts to take a few deep, erratic strokes.

With a soft whimper and one last shudder, he relaxed.
S
he collapsed over him. He stroked her hair and kissed her.
Sparks
still crackled along the length of her spine, and her entire body tingled as she and Nick lazily made out in between trying to catch their breath.

And with the need sated, the delirium cleared, the passion cooled, Deanna’s heart pounded with an altogether different rhythm. Her stomach tightened. Reality set in.

Nick’s hands slowly loosened their grasp on her hips. When she pushed herself up and looked down at him, when his eyes widened and lips parted, she didn’t have to ask if the same epiphany had worked its way into his mind.

Oh shit.

What did we just do?

Four

Nick and Deanna didn’t make any eye contact as they fixed their clothes. There was a public restroom not far away, and the need to clean themselves up and shake off all this sand was a convenient enough excuse for them to duck into separate concrete-enclosed spaces.

Alone with his thoughts and his conscience, Nick avoided his own eyes in the dingy, graffiti-covered mirror as he brushed sand off his skin and clothes. He’d probably be chasing sand out of his hair for days, and his skin crawled as a few grains sprinkled from his hair, down the back of his neck and under his collar.

Once he’d gotten rid of some of the sand, he turned on the faucet and cupped his hands under it. Splashing water on his face, all he could think was
what the fuck did we just do?

He’d noticed from day one that Deanna was attractive
—
who wouldn’t?
—
but she’d never been an option. She’d been married when they met, and by the time she divorced, Nick was with Kristina. This, what happened out there on the sand, had never crossed his mind. Sure, he’d had his share of impure thoughts about her before she’d introduced him to her sister, but he’d fantasized about plenty of women he never expected to actually touch.

Taking a deep breath, Nick met his own eyes in the mirror. There was no going back now. It wasn’t that he’d intended to try to win Kristina back
—
this split was a long time coming, and needed to happen
—
but it shouldn’t have ended the way it did. Not with him dropping a bomb on her like that. Once the dust had settled, he needed to talk to her, see if they could mend fences and walk away peacefully. Maybe not as friends, but… something other than his departure this morning.

But now? Jesus, how he could he look her in the eye and tell her he never meant to hurt her, that he still loved her, now that he’d fucked Deanna?

He’d have to man up and figure it out, though. After all, he couldn’t hide in this restroom forever, no matter how much he really, really wanted to at the moment. At this point, all he could do was not screw things up worse than they already were. Given that he’d have to open his mouth at some point, the odds weren’t promising.

God, please don’t let me hurt her more than I already have
.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and went back outside. Deanna was nowhere in sight, but the mechanical roar of a hand dryer echoed in the ladies’ room, so he didn’t worry she’d gone on without him. Probably would have been best if she had anyway. Facing her was only marginally easier than facing Kristina, and that was only because Deanna
knew
what they had done. The confession wasn’t needed.

The hand dryer shut off. A moment later, Deanna joined him outside.

They briefly made eye contact, then started along the beach toward his motel.

Neither of them spoke. The waves gently lapping at the shore emphasized the silence between him and Deanna, and every quiet splash threatened to send him out of his mind. What was he supposed to say? Were there even words for this?

“Deanna, I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. “About what
—
”

“I was just as much a part of it as you were.” She stayed focused straight ahead, not even glancing his direction. “What do we do now, though?”