Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Jules
A shimmer of pink dips low on the horizon, losing its battle with the golden glow that slowly rises as if from the ocean’s depths. I feel like I’ve been transported to another place, another time. And yet, this quaint holiday cottage is only a short drive from the Gold Coast.
“Here you go.” Mick hands me a mug, its potent brew incongruous to this idyllic paradise. Coffee is my lifeblood, one sip guaranteed to send a shot of welcome adrenaline through my veins.
“Thanks.”
With his hair mussed up from a night of lovemaking and the pressures of work set aside for the weekend, there’s a softness to Mick’s features I haven’t seen in a long time. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, and his flannel shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a six-pack that never ceases to surprise me, given his sedentary job. Not that I have any complaints. I traced every inch of those ridges in his stomach with my tongue, and I can’t wait for a repeat today.
I return my gaze to the sunrise, one hand resting on the wooden railing, while I take another sip of coffee. The pink streaks have retreated, and a halo of golden light hovers above the horizon. Soon it’ll be a full ball of sunlight.
Mick presses against my back and nuzzles my hair. “Are you glad we came now?”
“Yeah. This little getaway is exactly what we needed.” There’s been a shift in our relationship after that appalling incident at the club a month ago. And a shift in me. If I hadn’t taken the Valium before going out, would I have remembered the golden rule of not accepting drinks from strangers, or at least not given in so quickly to the drug that was slipped to me? I’ll never know, but it’s reinforced my determination to stop the pills and cut back on alcohol.
A sigh escapes my lips. “I wonder what Riley’s doing?”
Mick laughs, amber flecks of morning sunlight dancing in his eyes. “Hopefully, she’s woken Uncle Jake up early and made his life hell.”
I slap his butt. “That’s not nice.”
“Nope, but it’s payback for how hard Jake’s been riding my arse.”
I pivot, my coffee sloshing close to the edges of the mug. “You don’t seem to mind. In fact, you’re more alive than ever.”
He drags the back of his finger down my cheek in the gentlest of caresses. “I never imagined I’d be back working with the police again. It feels weird.”
“Weird good or weird bad?”
“A bit of both.”
“Do you regret resigning?” I curse myself the moment the words escape my lips.
“Nope.” The light in his eyes extinguishes, leaving behind a bitter chocolate burdened by a past he refuses to share with me. He drops his hand from my face and puts some distance between us.
Bugger this.
I set my mug, still half full, on the small table. If words aren’t working, then we’ll leave it to our bodies to communicate. I loosen the tie on my dressing gown and let it slide off. Mick’s eyes track the movement, inky black crowding out the brown. His throat works as if he’s unable to suck in oxygen. I won’t lie. It feels fucking awesome to see this man trembling at the sight of my body.
He scrubs his jaw with his fist. “What are you doing, Jules?”
“Exactly what it looks like.” I step off the deck. “Going for a morning swim.”
I stroll towards the surf, buck naked, putting an extra swagger into my hips, knowing it’ll drive Mick wild. I glance over my shoulder. His pants are tented, and as I anticipated, he appears torn between hauling me inside or tackling me to the sand and having his way with me. “You going to keep me warm?”
He scans the beach, but we’re alone. For now. Although, the risk of an early morning jogger or dog walker stumbling upon us adds to the thrill. “You’re itching for a spanking, woman.” He shrugs off his shirt and strips out of his sweatpants.
I giggle and start running. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Picking up my pace, I wade into the surf. Water laps at my ankles, calves, thighs. I shudder as the coolness hits my sensitive flesh, goose pimples skating across my body. The whoosh of a heavy breath is my only warning before Mick’s arms encircle my waist and lift me up. I flail and we both tumble into the crashing waves in a tangle of limbs.
Salt stings my eyes, and I cough briny liquid out of my lungs. Mick hauls me to my feet, anchoring me as the water ripples around us at hip height. My fingers dig into his firm biceps, but Mick’s having none of that. He clasps my hand and places it over his crotch.
“Is this what you wanted?”
The cold water has taken the edge off his erection, but he’s still semihard. I stroke the velvet flesh and cup his balls. “Yes.”
His mouth crashes against my lips while the waves crash against the shore. It’s a brutal kiss, a claiming kiss. I release his dick and massage his glutes, pulling his hips flush with mine. Our tongues collide, and the spicy scent of coffee and man infuses me with strength.
We prise our bodies apart, our breaths ragged.
Mick quirks an eyebrow. “Salt and sand, or shower?”
I pinch his arse. “Why not both?”
He surprises me by looping his arms behind my knees and hoisting me up.
I push at his chest. “What are you doing?”
His mouth covers mine in another drugging kiss, the only drug I want from now on. He releases my lips. “Trust me.”
Mick wades to the shore, to where the waves dwindle to the merest trickle. He lowers me to my feet, then cups my breasts and laves each nipple with wet, passionate kisses. My core responds, clenching around nothing, desperate to have him inside me. I grab his dick, but he covers my hand with his and pulls me away.
Dropping to the sand, Mick lies on his back. “Ride me, Jules.” His erection juts proudly, a full-blown weapon of steel. Well, perhaps a touch wilted from the cold water, but still impressive and more than enough for me to work with.
My mouth waters at the delectable gift in front of me. I straddle him until his dick nudges my entrance. “Are you letting me take control?”
He bucks his hips, sending a flood of moisture to my pussy. “For now.”
I lower myself inch by inch onto him. We both groan as he bottoms out. For a moment, there’s just the two of us entwined as one with the roar of the waves in the background and the fresh salty scent of a new beginning cleansing our lungs. Our hearts. Our very souls .
Mick cups my nape and nibbles my lips in a wickedly seductive kiss. Then traces a finger across my cheek, down my throat and along my collarbone. My heart bursts with love, with the need to bury myself inside him like he’s buried inside of me.
Is this true intimacy?
A splash of water tickles my toes. I glance behind. Uh oh. The tide is coming in. Time for feelings later. For now, I’m going to fuck my gorgeous husband before the ocean claims us again.
I plant my hands on Mick’s pecs and glide up and down his shaft. His eyes alternate between rolling back in his head and fixating on my bouncing breasts. A delicious burn spreads across my belly, getting hotter with every movement. Soon, the flames are so bright that no amount of water could douse them.
Mick gives me a helping hand, our bodies moving as one in a steady rhythm. The orgasm catches me by surprise, spurred on by a fresh wave that tickles my butt. The explosion rips through my core and curls my toes with sudden, bone-melting ferocity. Mick follows seconds later. His expression is all masculine satisfaction until a sudden wave interrupts.
“I hate to spoil the fun, Jules, but I think we should take this to the shower.”
I lift my hips and let him slide out. “Agreed.” I mourn the loss of the connection, but Mick is on his feet, his hand curling around mine.
We return to the house, sated by the ocean’s kiss and with the promise of more to come.
The horizon stretches before us, a shimmer of blue on blue as the clear sky and pristine ocean meld. My head rests on Mick’s chest, our legs tangled together on the outdoor sofa. A pleasant lethargy seeps into my bones. Good sex will do that to you.
I stroke his pecs, my finger circling gnarled tissue below his shoulder—a bullet wound from his days undercover. He covers my hand and draws it down his belly to his crotch. My fingers tingle when I find him semihard, even though I know he’s diverting my attention from the scar.
I run my palm up and down the warm flesh. “You ready for round three?”
“You mean round four?”
“The shower doesn’t count. You were too busy moaning and groaning, and not in a good way.”
He wriggles, shifting our hands away from his groin and resting them on his thigh. “That’s because I’m the one who had sand stuck in unimaginable places. I think I’ll be finding wayward grains for the next month.”
I kiss his cheek, this treasured moment warming me from the inside out. “And I appreciate you taking the hit.” We learnt the hard way on our honeymoon that sex on the beach can be less romantic than it sounds when coarse granules are abrading your personal parts. It’s a delicate balance.
He pulls me closer, my legs draping over his. “We should have done this years ago.”
“Have sex?”
“Ha!” He nips my lips with his teeth. “Get away. Just the two of us.”
“Yeah.” As much as I miss Riley, Mick’s right. We were long overdue for some time alone.
Mick traces his tongue around the shell of my ear and palms my breast. I nuzzle into his chest and slide my hand between his legs. Sex isn’t the solution to our marital problems, but it’s an important step in repairing our relationship. I hadn’t realised how bitter I’ve become. How much each new rejection letter has eaten away at my confidence. And how my husband’s long office hours have had me questioning our marriage.
I shut off the annoying voice in my head and let the soothing sounds of waves breaking on the shore and the gentle touch of Mick’s lips and hands anchor me in the present. Real life will be waiting for us when we return home. For now, I’m going to make love to my husband.