Chapter 29 Joanie
Joanie
The sun dipped low over the ocean, making it sparkle like molten gold. We lay on a picnic blanket watching the sky transform again, this time from light to dark.
Kieran’s eyes drifted to my knee. I pulled the hem of my dress down over the scar.
He turned on his side, propping his head on one elbow. “You don’t have to cover it.”
“It’s ugly.”
“It’s the opposite.”
Fine. I didn’t care what my knee looked like. It could have been so much worse today. A few bruises, but I’d gotten away with it this time.
“I’ve got plenty of scars. Look at the state of this.”
Kieran pulled up his shorts and flashed a glimpse of his strong, toned thigh.
A long white raised scar sliced down the exterior.
He traced a finger over it. “I was fourteen, pratting about trying to impress a girl, and I fell off a wall. I ended up looking like a bloody shark has taken a chunk out of me.”
“But did you get the girl?”
“Of course not. I looked like an absolute plonker.”
He propped himself up to face the ocean.
“At least people can see the scars on my knee. The rest aren’t so obvious,” I said.
He kept his gaze fixed on the waves. “I get it. Sometimes the worst scars are the ones you can’t see. Coming back from any injury is tough. Of course there will be scars. The physical ones and the mental ones. No one is going to judge you for that, least of all me. I’ve got plenty of my own scars.”
What scars did Kieran Earnshaw have? I had the sudden intense need to know. I lifted my dress above my knee, exposing the bumpy line that dissected my kneecap. “They had to remove the old tendon and replace it with a graft.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Ten years ago, this would have ended your career.” He bit his lip, his voice tentative. “Can I touch?”
I shrugged. “If you want. It’s still numb. Sometimes it’s really itchy.”
“Is this OK?” He brushed his finger lightly over the scar.
“Yes.” A shot of electricity went through me at the contact. He traced a wide circle around my kneecap. My heart fluttered wildly. His touch resonated everywhere, as though his warm fingers were brushing a soft line down my neck, between my breasts, along my spine.
“It could have been worse. I get to play again. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to focus on the positives.”
His touch was soothing, and his eyes were soft and caressing. “I told you my feelings about all that. It’s an extra stick to beat yourself with. You don’t have to hide your pain.” He swallowed and his eyes met mine. “I can tell you it doesn’t work that well.”
He lifted his head from my knee, and for a moment I lost myself in the way the fading sun played over his strong features.
He stretched his arms above his head. “Are we swimming?”
No. He wasn’t going to dodge the question that easily. “What pain have you had to hide?”
“The same as anyone. No one gets through life unscathed. Some scars you can see and some you can’t.”
I waited for him to go on, but he turned back to the sea.
“Tell me. I want to know.”
He swallowed. “My dad walked out on us when Jack was a baby. He wasn’t a nice man.
He ran with a gang who got into fights after football matches.
We don’t speak. No birthday cards. Nothing.
Occasionally, he pops up in the tabloids when he’s selling a story about me as a kid.
The last I heard, he’d been locked up again.
It’s been tough for Jack, growing up without a father. ”
I kept my voice soft. “Tough for you, too?”
He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I’ve tried my best to be there for Jack, but I left him to play in Madrid, and it was a difficult time for him. Mum worked a lot. I think he felt very alone. I wish I hadn’t left him.”
My heart broke at his world-weary expression. “No one could pass up an opportunity to play for Real Madrid. I’m sure he understands.”
“Maybe. I guess that’s why I’m not into the positivity thing. Sometimes life is difficult. It’s worse not to acknowledge it.”
“But then what? Stay sad forever?”
Faint humor edged his voice. “That was kind of the plan.” He twisted to look at me. “Then I met you. I don’t feel as sad as I did.”
My fingers ached to drag him toward me. The tension that always flared between us pulled tight with an exhilarating intensity.
“Kieran?”
“Yes?”
It still made me nervous to ask, even after everything we’d done together. “Can we . . . you know . . . again, tonight?”
“You want to?”
“Yes.”
He leaned in slowly, and I shifted on the picnic blanket to bridge the gap between us.
His kiss was hungry and urgent. The kind of kiss that demanded a response.
The kind you could never get enough of. He explored my mouth with his tongue.
My glasses bumped against his nose. I drew back and readjusted them. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled me back to his lips. “You don’t need to apologize for anything with me.”
His firm lips devoured mine, and somehow he shifted from next to me to his body covering mine.
His weight pressed me down onto the blanket and the soft sand beneath.
He planted hot kisses against my throat and down my body through the thin fabric of my dress.
His other hand snaked around to squeeze my backside.
Things were getting too hot and heavy in an outdoor space. “We’re in public.”
“It’s on the list, isn’t it?” He spoke between kisses over my collarbones. “Outside, and on a beach. Two birds, one stone.”
“What if someone sees us?”
“It’s a private beach. No one comes here.”
A tremble went through me at his rough words. All I could focus on was the hand on my leg that was sliding up and down, stroking. Somehow, I found a reply. “Someone could still be around.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“I thought you wanted to be a good boy.”
He kissed a line down my body, then lifted his head and licked his lips. “I do. Let me show you how good I can be for you.”
“By breaking the law? I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to have sex outside.”
“I won’t call the police if you don’t.” His palm moved a little higher up my thigh. “What about a compromise? I want to get you back to the bedroom and take my time.” He kept his eyes fixed on mine as he bunched my dress around my hips. “But I’m also very committed to your list.”
He bowed his head. Heat pressed between my thighs from where he licked through the fabric of my underwear. I was already so wet. I stilled him with a hand in his soft hair.
“You don’t have to do that for me.”
His reply was incredulous. “You think I’m doing this for you?”
“Aren’t you?”
He hooked his finger into my underwear and moved it to the side.
He studied my face, seeking permission. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
He gave one long lick at my center and sucked on my lips. “Nothing turns me on more than this.”
“We already ticked this off the list.”
“Sometimes you chip a ball across the line, but I always like to make sure it’s a firm goal. It doesn’t hurt to make sure we really earned that tick.”
He kept his unwavering gaze on me while he tongued and lapped at me with gusto. I smothered my gasps with a hand over my mouth. Gently, he took my wrist and pulled my hand away.
“No. I want to hear every sound. How else do I know if I’m doing a good job?”
“I can assure you, you’re doing a good job.”
His lip twitched, and he dropped his head back between my thighs.
We were on a beach—a private beach, but still out in the open.
I had to put a stop to it. But I had one of the finest footballers on the planet giving me more pleasure than I could ever imagine, and I didn’t have the willpower to stop him.
The indecent sound of him teasing and sucking my clit made all thought leave my head.
He pressed my thighs flat with his palms and I gripped his broad shoulders to stop myself from floating away with pleasure.
Kieran licked and delved with his tongue.
My body flooded with heat and an unbearable tension as I writhed beneath him on the picnic blanket.
He slipped a finger into my wetness and an unholy cry left my mouth.
“I’m going to learn your body,” he murmured against my thigh. “I love to hear your moans when you come.”
There would be sand in all kinds of places by the time we were done, but I couldn’t care less.
My thighs tightened around his head, and he chuckled and pushed them apart again, pinning me to the ground.
I had no choice but to surrender to him completely.
This body had caused me such pain and frustration, but Kieran’s touch was a re-education—the thrill running through my veins, the intense pleasure building with every flick, the electricity with every brush of his fingertips on my skin.
I’d had no idea that this body, my body, the seat of so much woe, could also be the source of such relentless pleasure.
My orgasm rose from deep inside me as something primal and devouring.
A series of rough gasps left my mouth. Kieran nursed me through my shudders and each intense, vibrating wave of ecstasy until everything dissolved to sensation and the cries of the seabirds.
The warm lapping of the waves on the beach carried me away.
Kieran stroked my hair lightly. “Fancy a dip in the sea?”
“Give me a minute. I think my soul left my body. I’m still waiting to reunite with it.”
Kieran’s intoxicating scent of sweat and sex mixed with the tang of the ocean. I drew deep shuddering breaths, trying to come back to myself.
He kissed the top of my head. “You enjoyed that?”
I twisted in his arms to gaze into his eyes. “Yes.”
I wanted to satisfy him the way he’d pleased me.
It was on the list, but I had no experience with giving oral.
Lana had called a good blow job a “game-changer.” What was Kieran going to think about my beginner efforts?
I’d felt his hardness pressed against me when we were kissing, but I didn’t have the nerve to slip my hand down and feel him, as much as I longed to.
He’d just made me scream with pleasure, and I didn’t have the guts to return the favor.
“I want to . . .” My cheeks flushed, and embarrassment stole my words. I swallowed. “To swim. I want to swim.”
He rose to his feet and pulled me up slowly with him. “Good. Come on.”
The sand was soft and cool, and the cold water lapping over my feet made me gasp.
He shot me a casual glance. “Skinny-dipping is on the list, isn’t it?”
“No.”
Kieran pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his shorts to the sand. He stood naked in all his inked, muscular glory, powerful and unashamed.
A startled laugh burst out of me. “What are you doing?”
“Updating the list.” Kieran gave me a mock salute and bounded into the water. “Come on,” he cried. “It feels amazing.”
I threw my arms over my chest and shouted over the pound of the waves, “I agreed to swimming, not skinny-dipping.”
His brow arched with humor. “Deja de quejarte y quítate la ropa.”
“What does that mean?”
“Quit whining and take your clothes off.”
I suppressed my chuckle. “Another one of your pick-up lines?”
He gave a rueful shrug. “Get in here. You’re going to love it.”
I surveyed the inviting waters and drew a deep breath.
A moonlight swim under an indigo sky with a beautiful man.
If skinny-dipping wasn’t one for the list, I didn’t know what was.
I could seize the day with my fingertips, or I could grab it whole-heartedly and charge naked and wild into the sea.
A rush of determination went through me.
Some moments in life demanded to be fully embraced.
I pulled my sundress over my head and tugged my underwear off quickly before I changed my mind.
The cold snatched the air from my lungs as I plunged into the surf.
It was coldest like this, half in and half out of the water.
My heart contracted with fear before I lay back in the icy water and let myself float.
Gazing up at the stars, I let the water hold me, and my body was suddenly filled with the deepest sense of exhilaration.
I swam to Kieran. The waves crashed around us, and he pulled me to him, wrapping my legs around his waist. I pressed my body close, skin on skin, seeking his warmth. I bobbed up and down with the waves. Kieran’s hands snaked around my waist as he held me and steadied me.
He kissed my cheek. “I need to get you back to that bedroom.”
The waves smashed around us, the spray misting my glasses and the sound filling my ears. “Let’s swim a little longer. I’m enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He pressed another kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got my woman wrapped in my arms. What more could I ask for?”