Ch. 18 Her Vacation

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Beth watched Russell swimming closer, confused. If she didn't know better, she could imagine he wanted something from her; something she would enjoy giving.

"In all honesty, I lost the bottoms, too," she whispered, her breath quickening. So much for Operation: Don't Do Any More Stupid Crap. Well, no one could blame her for not trying.

Wait....Did he just growl?

"And you need me to fetch you a towel so you can get out?" he asked. He did not look like a man who was going to fetch her a towel anytime soon, but she nodded to give him the option.

"Is that what you really want me to do?" His voice was warm and rough at the same time; that whiskey voice he used that was a warning and a promise.

"I could think of a few other things you could do," she gasped, throat catching mid-sentence. "Things that friends don't usually do."

He struck like lightening; he had his arm around her waist and the other hand on the boulder so she could not escape, but was not pressing against her yet.

"Tell me," he said, his lips almost caressing her ear. She felt his muscular thighs on her bare legs and she shivered. Up this close, he could see her through the water. She was absolutely exposed and vulnerable.

"You could kiss me again," she said, closing her eyes.


Oh, everywhere! "On my neck," she whispered.

His lips grazed her wet skin in a downward trail from under her earlobe to her collarbone. He bared his teeth and nibbled the sensitive skin at the base of her neck at the level of the ocean water. She shivered again and arched her back to meet his mouth.

"Where else?" he asked.

"You could kiss my lips?" she asked, almost begging.

"Here?" He pressed hard on her mouth, stealing her ability to breathe entirely. He tasted fresh and salty from the sea at the same time. She met him with her own fevered kiss, daring him to give her more. Heat seared through her, lighting fireworks as it went.

His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her flush against his body. She could feel him rock hard through his trunks on her thigh and his heaving chest on her own.

"Or somewhere else?" Russell whispered. One of his knees slipped in between hers and gently nudged her legs apart. He didn't move it any higher than her thighs and his hands were still on her waist and on the rock behind them. The offer was there, though, and his intent was clear. A wave hit his back, pushing them tighter together. Sea water foamed and swirled around them and eddies teased Beth in terrible ways.

"Touch me," she answered. "Wherever you want."

He lifted his hand from the rock and laid his fingers on her shoulder.

"Tell me where."

"My side, my waist," she breathed into him.

He skimmed his fingers over her shoulder towards the side of her breast, which he cupped with the lightest touch before continuing downwards. He followed the curve of her waist at her side, causing her to shiver and squirm with the sweet torture. It was tickling her. It was not enough.

"Harder," she begged.

He grasped her hip with a strength and need that surprised her. She moaned softly, thrusting her tongue in his mouth. He met it with his own and circled it. His hand on her hip started kneading, working downwards to her leg. Hitching her thigh around his, he leaned on his knee in the sand to balance in the rocking water. Still he left that aching spot between her thighs exposed and totally neglected. Another small moan escaped her throat.

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