For You (19 page)

Awesome move, Sawyer.

I stared down at her lips and leaned in closer.

She turned her head to the side, as if suddenly very interested in people walking their dogs nearby.

Her ear was so close, and I planned to bite her earlobe if she wouldn't kiss me. I hesitated, and she wriggled back and the edges of the jacket slipped out of my hands.

She slipped out of my hands.

Next time, I'd hold on tighter.

She ran one hand back through her wavy brown hair and flipped her hair out over the collar of my so-big-on-her leather jacket, shooting me a look as if to say,
try again later.

I noticed her left hand was bare. No ring.

“I see your divorce went through,” I said.

She frowned and stuck her hands in her pants pockets.

We were walking along the sand now. I had my boots on, so the sand wasn't a problem, but it was probably getting into her shoes. Aubrey wasn't grumbling at all. My ex-girlfriend Janine would have been complaining her face off with this amount of sand.

Aubrey didn't complain. She didn't seem to notice minor problems.

I asked her, “Am I doing
anything
right?”

She glanced over at the ocean, then up at me.

“This is nice,” she said. “I'm glad you invited me out.”

“Really?”

She frowned at the horizon, her lips in that tight, straight line again.

I wished she'd give me some sign of encouragement. Should I even bother trying to win her over?

We continued walking, she with her hands pushed down in her pockets.

I got distracted by some dogs on leashes barking as they passed each other.

Aubrey wasn't giving me anything to work with, so maybe she didn't like me at all.

I had to move on, get over it. If Aubrey and I weren't going to happen, it was better to know early.

Something touched my hand.

She didn't look at me, but she slipped her hand inside mine.

AUBREY

Holding a guy's hand wouldn't seem like such a big deal to most girls, but to me, it was. Sawyer was so cute about the whole thing, occasionally switching my hand to his other hand and walking backwards alongside me as he dried off his palm on his jeans, then turning back and putting my hand into his freshly-dried palm.

We walked by the water for a ways.

I'd worn my bikini under my clothes, in case we wanted to tan for a bit. The sky was blue and cloudless, the sun getting warmer by the minute. Taking off my clothes and feeling the breeze on my damp skin would feel amazing.

Sawyer squeezed my hand. “Shall we shop for a bit, then work on our tans?”

“Perfect.”

We crossed over the road and visited the little gift shops along the strip. I found a bean-bag frog that I thought Bell would love. We didn't have much extra money, but we had a little, and the frog would be less than ten dollars with taxes.

As I was paying for it, Sawyer said, “Be honest, that frog's for you.”

“It's purple. Bell loves purple animals.”

“Yeah, but the frog is your totem animal.”

Right. The drawing.

“I'm not getting a frog tattoo,” I said.

“Not today, no.”

“Not ever.”

“I'll have to get myself a frog tattoo on your behalf, then.” He held open the door and we walked out of the shop, back into the sun.

I sneezed in the bright light, then said to Sawyer, “Sure, get one for me. Get a frog tattoo right on your ass.”

He made a shocked face. “You swore.”

“Surprise. I'm just a regular person. I swear sometimes.”

We were standing outside the shop, and he reached for my hands. I had the stuffed frog limply in one, and Sawyer's long hand fit easily around it. He pulled me into him, and I had no choice but to stare up into his gorgeous, sea-green eyes and let him kiss me.

His lips pressed against mine, pulling feelings from me. Desire. Aching. Wanting.

I parted my lips and our tongues touched as I pushed up onto my tiptoes to bring myself closer. He pulled my arms so that they were wrapped around him, and once I was latched on, he moved his hands to my face. His fingers touched below my ears, then feathered through my hair to the base of my neck.

My body went limp, and I was floating, held up by Sawyer's fingers, his mouth electric against mine.

He moaned, low and barely audible, and the vibration of his voice shook into my spine. My body pulled to his, my hips seeking his.

With another groan, this one the kind you make when you don't want to do something, he pulled away from me, away from our kiss.

He looked from side to side at the people passing by on the sidewalk. Nobody seemed to care about two people kissing, but I blushed and looked down, certain that people could guess how turned-on I was right then.

My apartment was so far away, but we could go there. I could kiss Sawyer some more, and we wouldn't have to stop. I stuck my hands in my pockets and sucked in air between my teeth to help me straighten my thoughts. Going back to my place was a terrible idea, because what if I couldn't get him back out again? What if he wanted to come with me to pick up Bell after school, and meet her? Right now? Before I'd even considered how I would introduce him?

No, my place was out.

He nodded for us to continue down the street, inviting me to scope out where I wanted to get lunch.

I followed along, looking around in the few clothing shops along the street. I didn't shop much for recreation, unlike some girls my age. I didn't even have a credit card, much less the money to pay for unnecessary things like earrings and fancy, leather-colored journals. Sawyer bought himself a journal, not even blinking at the price.

We had lunch at a fish and chips place, where we had malt vinegar on the fries again. I was starting to like my fries that way. With vinegar. And with Sawyer sitting across from me, our knees touching underneath the table.

By now the sun was at full power outside, and when we went back out again, neither of us wanted to wear our jackets, so we slung them over our arms.

Sawyer took my hand and walked us across the street again, toward the beach. “Did you wear your swimsuit under there?”

“I did, but I don't think it's warm enough to go into the water.”

“Probably not, but I am thinking about getting your clothes off.”

How did he do that? Just say those flirty things, so matter-of-fact?

We found a stretch of clear, golden sand, where he dropped his leather jacket and whipped off his T-shirt.

He said, “I didn't bring a towel, but you can sit on my shirt, m'lady.”

I zipped open my purse and pulled out the small towel I'd brought, just in case we went in the water.

His eyes went wide. “You are so much smarter than me.”

I tried not to stare at his lips and think about kissing him again. “Having a kid makes you prepare before you leave the house.”

“I have a lot to learn.” He tugged off his boots and socks, and then wriggled out of his jeans. He flopped back on the sand with his hands behind his head, his muscular arms folded.

The tattoos on his arms wrapped all the way around, and gave him the appearance of wearing more clothes than he was.

I slipped off my shirt and pants, wondering as I always did when I stripped down to my swimwear, how was it that you were considered dressed in a bikini, but not in your underwear, which covered the same areas?

I lay back on Sawyer's shirt, the coolness of the sea breeze caressing my skin.

Sawyer rolled toward me, propping himself up on one elbow, his body blocking the sun from my face.

“This is the perfect day,” he said.

I nodded in agreement. I didn't like to notice when things were good, for fear noticing would jinx everything. When my mother and Terry brought home the crib for the new baby, we'd celebrated with a big dinner—celebrated becoming a bigger family. I thought that was a perfect day, but it didn't last.

I would prefer every day felt the same, rather than feel the excitement of something good and have to worry about it being taken away.

Sawyer reached down and pulled my sunglasses off my face. “You have the prettiest eyes. Are they green, or blue, or gray?”

“They're whatever you want them to be.”

“Your eyes make me think of the moon.”

His face was in shadows, but I knew his eyes. “Yours remind me of the ocean. The bottom of the ocean.”

“What, like dirt and rocks?”

“No, like sea life. Like your tattoos.”

He leaned down and gave me one perfect kiss, then pulled away.

“Should we be those people?” he asked.

“What people?”

“The ones rolling around groping each other on the beach like there's no one around.”

I whispered, “No,” even though I desperately wanted him to kiss me again and again.

He moved his free hand to rest upon my stomach, just below my navel. I quivered under his touch.

He murmured, “You cold?”

“Nope.”

He looked down at my body as he moved his hand up, tracing a line along my abdomen.

He said, “Your skin feels hot.”

“Your hand feels good.”

“I could touch you all day,” he said. “Let's never leave this beach. No matter what happens in the future, let's never leave this moment. Just me and you, at the edge of the world. At the edge of everything.”

“Okay.”

He reached over and caught a strand of my hair. “Okay, we're staying.” He pulled the lock of hair under my nose, resting it along my upper lip. “You have this effect on me, like the moon has on the tide. It must be your sexy brown mustache.”

I giggled and swatted his hand and my lock of hair away.

And then he was kissing me, gritty sand falling against my chest as he reached over to bring his torso in line with mine, then on top of me.

I parted my legs and he dropped his knee between my thighs so he was on me, but supporting his weight on his elbows. He kissed my mouth, my cheeks, my neck under my ears.

The sun was hot on my face, shining through my closed eyelids and making everything feel red. The whole world was on fire, spinning out of control, and the heat spread down through my body.

My hips moved, tilting to seek more contact with Sawyer's leg. His upper thigh contacted the spot on my bathing suit where my legs connected, and my hands sought purchase to pull him closer to me. I tilted up again as he kissed my neck, pushing that hot, thrumming part of me against him desperately.

He groaned and shifted his weight up, and I felt the length of him hardening inside his swimming shorts. Separated by only a thin bit of fabric, his rod was unmistakable, long and thick.

I reached down and grasped him through his shorts, clutching near the base.

He groaned and playfully nipped me on my earlobe.

I could barely catch my breath, and I was moving, being rolled over, on top of him. Now he had his head back, and I licked his beautiful neck, my tongue finding his Adam's apple, my lips finding his pulse. My hips pressed down against his, the pleasure irresistible, and I rested my elbows alongside Sawyer's head and gazed into his green eyes for a moment before closing my eyes and kissing his lips.

His kisses were incredible, with the most incredible mix of passion and restraint. His hands were hot and heavy on my back, and then moved down to my butt. As he cupped my buttocks, he rocked me up and down against him.

I lost myself in the ecstasy of the moment, but then we shifted, and I felt the grit of sand between our torsos. That sensation brought me back to reality, and the fact we were lying in a public place.

Extracting myself from his embrace, I muttered, “You're so bad.”

He slapped my ass lightly as I rolled away. “You're the bad one. The way you attacked me like that.” He shook his head, grinning. “Unbelievable.”

I adjusted the top of my bikini and fished my sunglasses out of the sand above my head.

Sawyer sighed and rolled his head to the side to stare at me.

With the sunglasses hiding my eyes, I took a long, thorough look over his chest. He had almost no chest hair, but it didn't seem to be shaved, because there was no stubble. His chest was defined and sexy like a hot guy on a calendar. The tattoos of the octopus and the other sea stuff looked so natural the way they were placed, as if he'd always had them, right from birth. He did have some thicker dark hair, but it began just below his navel.

As I looked down further, I saw something that made my breath catch in my throat. Our little makeout session had caused some excitement below, and as a result, he was
peeking out
of the waistband of his shorts.

“Um, Sawyer?”

He reached over lazily with one sandy hand and traced his finger up my forearm. “I love hearing you say my name.”

“Are you, um, comfortable?”

“Yeah. Why, are you too hot? Too cold? Time for ice cream already?”

“Hmm.” I didn't quite know how to say it. Couldn't he feel that? If I didn't do something soon, he was going to get a sunburn.

I reached down pulled up on the waistband of his shorts, tucking him safely back inside. My fingers passed over the tip of his cock and got some slippery moisture on my fingertips.

He moaned, “Mmm, third base.”

“You were sticking out.”

“Oops.”

“You're decent now.”

“Never. Not a decent thought in my head.” He rolled to his side, facing me. “I wish we'd brought a really big blanket we could hide under. Or a tent. What do you think of that? I can't see your eyes in those sunglasses. Are you embarrassed? I'll try to behave myself, but I want you so bad. I'm glad we're here, though, because if we were alone, I'd really make a fool of myself.”

I rolled up to face him and whispered, “I wish we were alone, too.”

He sucked in air and let out a low whistle. “Can't take you to my place, because it's disgusting, and my roommate has some friends crashing there. We'd have more privacy here at this beach.” He furrowed his brow and looked around. “How about you wait right here and I'll go buy us a tent?”

I whispered something, but he didn't hear me.

He said, “What's that? You want me to buy us a tent? Sounds good.”