Up ahead I see Rafe and Stacy standing next to a snow cone vender, getting handed red, white, and blue icy treats. They step off to the side, grinning, as they sink their teeth into the globe of frozen sweetness. I cringe and Michelle must notice my shudder when she turns to me then back to her friend.
“Not a fan of snow cones?”
“Not a fan of hurting my teeth or getting a brain freeze. I can’t stand to bite into anything cold like that.”
“Same! Stacy thinks I’m weird. Or just a wuss.” She chuckles. “She has no problem biting right into a Popsicle.” Michelle wiggles with an exaggerated shudder causing me to chuckle. She then adds, “I’d rather lick an ice cream cone.”
I pull her to a stop and spin her to face me, leaning down to nuzzle her ear as I say, “I’d rather lick you, sweetness.” And I do just that; lick the shell of her ear before pulling the lobe into mymouth, lightly nipping with my teeth. “Don’t mind sinking my teeth into you either.”
She trembles against me, moaning my name, and it’s the most erotic sound next to her screaming it when she comes in my arms.
I growl low. “Fuck, woman, I’m having a hard time using that herculean discipline when all I want to do is take you right here.” To prove my point, I cup her shapely ass and grind against her, letting her feel my erection that’s ready to bust through my shorts. Don’t care that it’s broad daylight on a public beach. People have done worse, believe me.
Michelle grips my t-shirt as she leans back to look me in the eye, a devilish smile forming. “Think our friends would miss us if we ran back to that apartment?”
I grin at her then look over to Rafe and Stacy who are so wrapped up in one another they don’t notice we’ve hung back. “Not right away, but eventually.” I look back at Michelle. “Doesn’t mean we can’t cuddle under the shade of an umbrella and make-out a little.”
She laughs and starts to pull me toward a vacant spot. Normally the beach would be clear of any shade or canopies but permitted vendors have set up for the holiday. While there are many people walking the beach and soaking up the sun, visiting the make-shift storefronts, plenty are seeking shelter to get a break from the scorching rays.
I sit first beneath the large umbrella and pull Michelle onto my lap.
“Mmm, now this is the best seat on the beach,” she says while kissing my jaw.
I tease my fingers along her exposed shoulder while lifting her chin so that our mouths meet. After a few moments of lip-lock, we pull away to smile at one another.
“How’d you get this scar?” She traces a finger across my temple.
My own fingers skim back and forth on her silky skin, never wanting to break contact. “Wayward wrench in the motor pool.”
She glides her finger down my face to brush softly against my lips, her gaze on me. “Your only imperfection.”
“Hardly,” I chuckle.
“I haven’t seen any other marks or scars.”
“Not physically,” I say before I can stop myself. I’m tempted to look away to avoid any sympathy that might form in her eyes, but I keep my gaze on her, seeing only curiosity. I’ll answer any questions she might have because she’s been open and honest with me, and if I want to build something with her, I need to do the same.
When she remains quiet, simply staring at me while toying with my hair, I have to tamp down the urge to squirm, wondering what she’s thinking or what she wants to ask. Because I’m sure the counselor in her is just itching to ask away.
“You look like you’re bracing yourself for an inquisition,” she says, a teasing smile on her tempting lips.
“Aren’t you curious to know more, Counselor?” I try to make it sound as if I’m teasing but I feel her stiffen. “Michelle—”
“I’m curious to know all there is to know about you, Xander, but not as a counselor. As a new friend, a lover, a person who is truly interested in you. And only when you’re ready to share.”
Her words are soft and sincere, showing no hint of offense.
I kiss her softly and whisper against her lips. “I’m sorry. I do want to share with you.” I pull back to meet her gaze. “Not to burden, but so you know that’s the level of trust I have for you.” Her simple smile warms my heart. “There’s nothing dastardly or horrific really. You asked this morning about family, and I was reluctant to talk much about my parents. Specifically, my father.”
“I noticed but didn’t want to press.”
“My dad wasn’t much of a factor in our lives. Shortly after Dina was born, he took off. He’d come back around here and there for a few years, but mom later revealed she told him to just stay away. He got mixed up in gambling and she wanted no part of it. When he did well, he’d send money. When he didn’t, he’d find some scam to get in on to make up for his losses. Apparently, the last time he came around, when Dina was only three and I was eight, mom wouldn’t accept his money, told him it was tainted and to never contact us again. I figured he would’ve argued, protested, something, because we were his kids. But turns out he didn’t give a damn. Said we were nothing but a drain on his hard-earned money.” I snort with cynicism.
Michelle remains quiet, listening, her hand finding mine to hold.
“Anyhow, we managed. We weren’t living in the lap of luxury, but we didn’t lack for the necessities. Especially mom’s love. She worked hard, taught us there wasn’t anything we couldn’t do once we put our minds to it. She never had another man in her life while raising us. I didn’t always make it easy on her, and looking back, I hate what a little shit I was at times. I was angry at my dad but took it out on her. And she continued to love me.”
“Of course, she loved you. You’re her son. She sounds like an amazing woman.”
