feet hit the sand, and he realised he’d stepped closer until he was now on the beach, the taste of salt in the air around him, the sun beating down. It was paradise at this moment, and he selfishly wanted to take it for himself.
He sat beside the towel she’d laid out with a giant pink flamingo on it and waited. For what, he wasn’t sure. Sitting there waiting for her brought nothing but complications he didn’t need, but he didn’t move.
Several minutes later he was spellbound as she walked from the sea like a wet dream, her step stuttering when she saw him before continuing on as if he wasn’t there. She picked up the towel, and he felt water droplets fall on his skin and couldn’t resist looking up.
“What are you doing here, Jack?”
She sounded flat, not herself, and he again found himself wondering what had put the desolation in her voice. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t expected to admit that truth to her, knowing it gave away more than he wanted.
Astrid sat on the sand next to him in silence, and for a while, they let the peace and quiet soothe the rough edges they were both feeling.
“I hate the sea, and yet, it has a beauty that’s so raw and mysterious.”
She turned to him, but he kept his eyes on the water. “How can anyone hate the sea?”
Her voice was soft, gentle like a balm on an open wound. Her accent was slight, but he could pick out the southern notes of her Georgia roots.
“When I was six years old, my father threw me in the sea and told me to swim. I was scared of the water and not a strong swimmer, so the sea terrified me. His way of making me face the fear was to watch me almost drown until I was so tired, I almost did.”
“Oh my God, what a monster. Who does that to a child?”
“He believed that if I were forced to confront it, I’d overcome it. He didn’t speak to me for a week after he pulled me out of the water. I was so ashamed of failing him that I vowed to never again fail at anything.”
He felt the light touch of her hand on his arm. “You were a child, Jack.”
He nodded silently before turning to her and seeing the sun on her skin, the anger and outrage for a child she didn’t know on her face. He felt lost, adrift, as much now as he had in that sea. “I know, but we’re taught to love and respect our parents and even as a grown man, I still sought his approval. I learned to swim in the sea and can swim miles now, but he took every ounce of pleasure from it. Until today.”
Her fingers flexed on his skin, and he knew he should pull the words back but for the first time in a long time, he was doing what felt good rather than what was right.
“Jack.”
He leaned in and cupped her face, bringing her close, his lips whispering over hers. “Tell me to stop.” Half of him wanted her to put the brakes on this madness, and the other half craved the taste of her more than his next breath.
She decided for him when she sealed her lips over his, and he was lost. She tasted of the sea with a hint of sweetness he couldn’t place. Her lips were soft and lush under his own as she met him at every turn. Giving and taking with the passion he’d always seen in her, even when he hadn’t wanted to. It was always destined to be fireworks between them, their personalities too opposed.
He flicked the seam of her lips with his tongue, and she opened for him on a breathy sigh that went straight to his cock. He took control, tipping her head so he could feast on her mouth with nips that made her moan as she pushed her fingers into the hair at his nape, her short fingernails scoring his skin and making him want to hear his name on her lips.
It was a kiss like no other, drugging, and sensual, yet passionate and carnal. He’d had sex that felt less substantial than this, less erotic and consuming. The realisation made him pull away. Releasing her hands from his neck, he put a foot of space between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He was breathing hard, trying to control the