I raise my legs and kick around but he’s too strong for me. I only barely manage to sway him. Only after several tries do topple him, and we collapse together.
Riff releases me and slicks his hair back, trying to catch his breath, and grins. “Alright, you put up a good fight.”
“So did you.” I slick back my own hair and twist the length of it to wring it out.
Our boards float beside us.
We sit in the surf for a minute and then Riff says, “We should try to warm up.”
Item number six:
Wrap up together in the same beach blanket
“Yeah … I guess we should.” At least we’ll be more than halfway through the list. Plus, the ocean chill is seeping into my bones. It should just be a quick minute or two to make sure the photographer catch us together, and then it will be over.
I stand up and grab my board. Riff does the same and we slosh out of the tide onto the sand and unleash ourselves from the surfboards.
Riff dramatically grabs the zipper cord from his back and pulls it down in a smooth motion.
Getting his arms out of the sleeves is … less smooth. The suit fights him, suctioning to his skin.
I watch him wrestle with the neoprene for a few seconds—while he mutters curses—before I try my own zipper and begin to peel off the second-skin material.
The rush of air when I expose my skin does me no favors. My teeth chatter and I immediately go for my towel.
“What’s next?” Riff asks as he swipes a different towel down his arms and legs.
“Blanket,” I reply.
He shivers. “Of course.”
Together we unfurl the large beach blanket, which is off white with bands of navy blue and has tassels on two ends. Riff drapes part of it around my shoulders, then his, and we get closer to each other, although not close enough to be touching.
As both of us tremble, I say, “I think we’re going to need to do number ten early,” and nod toward the portable fire.
It’s a vented cylinder with a propane tank attached, and some knobs around the outside. We kneel beside it, wrapped in the blanket, and Riff figures out how to get the cylinder lit. In no time, the flames flicker inside of it like magic, and I moan at the warmth that wafts out.
“I know this is an uncomfortable situation,” Riff says, “but let’s be practical: We probably need to get a little closer to each other.”
Teeth still chattering, I nod and say, “Okay,” because it feels like my bones are made of ice and I don’t have the strength or the will to argue.
“Permission to put my arm around you?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He slips his arm around my waist and pulls me up against his side, then tightens the blanket around us.
Suddenly all I can think is that, I’m pretty sure, technically, it would be more beneficial to do this naked to better share our body heat, and the thought of us full-on skin to skin sends a flutter between my legs.
Dammit.NO.
Thank God Riff is too busy shivering to notice me blush.
It could be another fan fiction, I think sardonically.
Take Me to the Beach by Anonymous_User
MATURE | M/F ROMANCE | CONTENT WARNINGS: NO | COMPLETED WORK
