“I HATE YOU.”
Nick’s laughter echoes around our home for the next few days, his lips twitching into a smirk as he pulls a beanie down over my head. “Stop whining.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Amelia, it’s 6AM.”
“It’s dark outside,” I hiss through pouted lips, batting away Nick’s hands when he attempts to wrap a scarf around my neck, bundling me in yet another layer. Not only am I awake hours before I’d prefer, I’m wearing enough clothes to comfortably walk around outside in freaking Antarctica. When I asked why I needed to wake up at the crack of dawn and spend the day looking like the Michelin Man, Nick silenced me with another insufferable ‘it’s a surprise.’
It’s a good thing he’s handsome. And that he came prepared with copious amounts of strong, sweet coffee and pastries when he woke me up.
The birds have barely begun chirping when Nick drags my yawning form outside, his camera swinging around his neck and a disposition that’s way too cheery for this hour. A chilly wind tickles my cheeks and despite my contempt for his merriment, I huddle closer to Nick, and when it hits me that we’re strolling hand-in-hand in public without a care in the world, my mood suddenly lights. With a relenting huff, my grumpiness ebbs and I wrap my free hand around his arm, resting my head on his shoulder, letting myself revel in the fact we’re acting like the couple we are for once.
It’s so ridiculous that something so normal can make me feel like I’m floating. I don’t even care that I have no idea where we’re going; I’m enjoying strolling with my boyfriend without feeling the need to glance over my shoulder every two seconds.
As the sun begins to rise, it bathes everything around us in soft, golden light, finally allowing me to see beyond the dimly lit path we’re following. Waves crash gently against the rocks below us, the soothing sound accompanied by the screech of seagulls flying above us. The ocean is dotted with the shadows of early morning surfers scoping out the first icy waves of the day, the sunrise making the whole image so unbelievably picturesque.
Just like that, my aversion to waking up at the crack of dawn is cancelled out completely as I’m struck by how peaceful, how pretty all of this is. How it’s exactly what I needed.
I’m so busy gazing out to sea that I barely notice Nick coming to a halt. Not until he nudges me to grab my attention do I realize we’ve reached our destination. Dozens of boats occupy the marina we’ve come to a stop before, swaying gently in the wind and waves.
Side-eyeing Nick, I raise a brow. “Please tell me we’re not going fishing.” It would be kind of funny if, for all his observancy, he failed to notice I’m a vegetarian.
“No, meu amor,” he rolls his eyes, huffing a sarcastic noise as he herds me toward one of the boats looming close to us, a stark white vessel on the smaller side with the words, ‘Monterey Bay Whale Watching’ painted across the hull, “we are not going fishing.”
“Whale watching?” I glance at Nick, his apprehensive smile warming me more than any layer could.
“Whale watching,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around my waist. “Thought the fresh air would be good for your head, and it’s pretty peaceful out there. Plus,” he clears his throat in the most adorably nervous way, “I thought it was about time I took you on a date.”
Heart beating thunderously, something foolishly happy grips me by the throat. “A date, huh?”
Nick hums, leaning forward to brush his nose—perfectly warm because, like I’ve said before, the man is a living furnace—against mine. “We’ve got a lunch reservation too.”
“Oh,” I sigh. “You really should’ve lead with that. Then I would’ve been so grumpy.”
“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.” Tossing me a wink, Nick grabs my hand and together, we clamber onto the boat. The people already onboard greet us excitedly, all looking relaxed and jovial and, making me wonder if I’m the only non-morning person in the whole bay.
It doesn’t take long before we get going; after a quick welcome spiel and before I know it, the coast is becoming a faint dot in the distance. The further out we sail, the stronger and icier the wind gets and I’m begrudgingly grateful for Nick’s obsessive bundling, as grateful as I am for him standing flush behind me, acting like another layer. Chin resting on head, his hands sneak around my waist and join mine where they’re stuffed in my coat pockets, fingers lacing with mine like a living pair of gloves.
I’m ashamed to admit we don’t even attempt to make small talk with the other people on the boat. We’re wholly occupied with each other. Not in an indecent or obnoxious way, though.
Well, maybe a little.
“I like kissing you in public,” Nick murmurs in my ear, and my cheeks redden for reasons beyond the biting wind. Slight embarrassment aside—Nick truly has zero inhibitions when it comes to PDA—I can’t help but agree. Something about being able to kiss him freely after hiding for so long is downright exhilarating.
As Nick dips his head to add substance to his claim once again, my attention is suddenly drawn elsewhere, toward a round of excited shouting. “Look!” One of the crew members hollers loudly, gesturing at a random spot in the ocean. Following his pointed finger, I can’t help but gasp at the group of dark blobs dipping beneath waves sparkling in the sunlight.
Half a dozen whales, I think, swim a stone’s throw away from the boat. God, they’re huge. Sleek and streamlined as they glide through the water effortlessly. Majestic, that’s the word that comes to mind.
Feeling like a giddy child, I break out of Nick’s grasp and hurry to the railing where everyone is congregating, gripping the frigid metal tightly and bouncing on the balls of my feet, genuinely awestruck as I watch the whales sporadically break the surface. I tear my gaze away only to check if Nick is enjoying this as much as I am, glancing over my shoulder as the camera pointed in my direction snaps a picture with a definite click. Groaning with a cringe, I cover my face, not even daring to imagine how awful I look, all flushed and disheveled with my hair probably flying in a million directions.
Tutting his disapproval, Nick drops his camera, letting it hang around his neck as he pries my hands away. “My fucking beautiful girl,” he whispers way too loudly for my liking before leaning in for yet another public display of affection.
Despite my self-consciousness, I freaking simper. “You are unbelievably sappy today.”
“You love it.”
“Yeah.” I let my head fall back against his chest when he spins us to face the ocean again, his lips lavishing my cheek with affection. “I really do.”
Releasing a tired but happy sigh, I tilt my face towards the sun, basking in the warm rays as they thaw my chilled bones. A few hours out on the open sea have me shivering despite the layers, but it was so damn worth it. God, I really loved that.
My gaze shifts to the man strolling alongside me, and I sigh again. After our morning adventure, Nick made good on his promise of lunch, leading me to a cute pub right by the ocean and treating me to the best meal I’ve had in a while. And a handful of drinks. With the combination of a full belly and a clear, slightly intoxicated mind, I already know I’m going to sleep well tonight.
As we walk back to the inn, taking the same ocean path as this morning, I take advantage of him being entranced by the view and thoroughly, unashamedly check him out. God, he’s hot. Scruffier than usual, which I think is only adding to the hotness. He’s got a whole beard thing going on lately, and his hair is a little longer than normal too, dark curls peeking out from underneath his beanie, and I’m loving it.
Sensing my gaze, he turns to me with the smile I’ve learned is reserved only for me, the light catching his honey eyes so perfectly it makes me sigh a third time.
So pretty. And all mine.
“You’re staring,” he teases, coasting one hand down my arm while the other pushes open the front door of the inn.
Since there’s no point denying it, I shrug, shouldering past him and dashing for our room, already anticipating how good hot water battering my cold skin is going to feel. The moment the door closes and locks behind us, I’m stripping off, leaving my abundance of clothes scattered on the floor as I bolt for the bathroom. When I get down to my underwear, I glance back at Nick, whatever I was going to say abruptly getting caught in my throat.
He’s staring at me intently, hungrily, in the way I freaking crave. But the moment he realizes he’s been caught, her averts his gaze and clears his throat, pretending to be busy messing around with his camera.
A wicked idea springs to mind. “Nick?”
He hums a nondescript reply, still fiddling with his camera, still avoiding looking at me.
“Nick,” I repeat more assertively. Painfully slowly, Nick raises his gaze, throat bobbing in a hard swallow as he tries and fails not to blatantly check out my almost naked body. “Are you going to join me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Taking a small step toward him, I cross my arms over my chest, subsequently drawing his attention to the lacy bralette doing little to hide anything. “Why not?”
“Amelia…” he warns quietly but it’s not me he’s warning; it’s himself. I know what he’s thinking; it’s written all over his face. He doesn’t want to push me or make me uncomfortable, and I appreciate that more than words can convey.
But it’s been too long since he touched me in any way other than gentle. And I love gentle, I do, but I’m so sick of it.
I want him to touch me like he wants me.
Breathing his name for a third time, I close the distance between us, his skin scorchingly warm beneath my palms as I slide them along the curve of his neck. To my delight, he doesn’t hesitate in greedily palming my barely covered ass, groaning as he kneads my flesh. “I need you.” Molten gold irises flash dangerously at my proclamation. “So, will you stop treating me with kid gloves and just fuck me already?”
In the blink of an eye, I’m upside down, thrown over Nick’s shoulder like a sack of flour. A low groan rumbles deep in his chest as I wriggle in anticipation, a surprised squeal spilling from my lips when a stinging slap cracks across my ass cheek.
Fucking finally.
Blood rushes to my head as I’m placed back on my feet, and I feel as giddy as I did earlier as the sound of running water fills the bathroom, as I watch him strip away his clothes and the rest of mine with hasty eagerness.
When we both stand naked in front of each other, Nick exhales deeply, gaze reverent as it sweeps over me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
One word is all it takes for his lips to smash against mine with unbridled, desperate power. His hands are everywhere, all over me, all at once, touching and teasing and persuading moans from my lips as he leads me under the hot spray, twirling me so my back is crushed against his front.
Nick makes quick work of coaxing a first orgasm out of me. With his hand between my thighs, I almost buckle as the pleasure I’ve been deprived of for too long washes over me. So long, too long, without him touching me, without me touching him. A handful of thrusts have me melting against him, begging for more, my hands reaching up so I can bury them in his hair.
‘Do you want to come, meu amor?’ His breath tickling my neck only heightens the sensation, as does his teeth nipping my earlobe.
My mind gets fuzzy as I get dangerously close to the edge, my thoughts completely consumed by Nick. ‘What about your rule?’ Shut up, Amelia. Holy fuck, shut up.
The pressure of his fingers inside me increases as Nick growls, “Fuck that. I wanna hear you scream my name.’
And I do. Fuck, I do. I scream his name so loudly that if I wasn’t so lost in ecstasy, I’d probably feel bad for the other inhabitants of the inn, probably be a little embarrassed.
But I can’t bring myself to give a shit.
The orgasm rips through my body, prolonged by teeth scraping my neck, one hand massaging my breast, the other rubbing furiously between my legs until my knees truly give out and the only thing holding me up is the arm hooked around my waist. Blood pounds in my ears, drowning out the sound of our ragged breathing and running water. Fuck, I missed that.
I whine in protest as Nick lets me go and moves to get out of the shower, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to me. “What’re you doing?”
“Getting a condom, querida.”
“I’m on birth control.” I blurt out the words without even thinking, an obvious invitation laced within them. Nick freezes in place, eyes wide and undoubtedly dark, filled with barely controlled lust. My words float in the air between us, palpable and loaded, like a physical line we’re about to cross.
I’ve never had sex without a condom before, never trusted anyone enough, and something about the way Nick’s looking at me tells me same goes for him. But I trust Nick. Completely, unequivocally, scarily.
‘Are you sure?’ He asks that question again, voice husky and low and trembling. I can’t tell if the shaky voice is because he’s nervous or if it’s from the effort of holding back.
Something tonight has me feeling bold, probably a mixture of my overwhelming need to be close to him and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. Moving until our chests are flush, I wrap my arms around his neck. ‘Don’t you want to come inside me, Nick?’
The words barely leave my mouth before I’m attacked with a kiss and plucked off the ground, my legs immediately wrapping around his waist. In one swift movement, my back hits the shower wall, his hand sliding between my head and the hard marble to act as a cushion as he buries himself inside me. ‘Merda, I missed being inside of you.’
The feeling is most definitely mutual.
He slams into me relentlessly, both of us moaning each other’s names and muttering curse after curse until I can’t distinguish between my voice and Nick’s. I move my hips against him, kissing him with everything I have. He tastes like the hot chocolate we drank on the way home and the salty ocean wind we spent the morning swaying in and I can’t fucking get enough, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
His thrusts get harder, deeper, and I can’t help but let my head fall to his shoulder with a cry. The second I do, he stops abruptly, coming to a standstill inside me. The hand cupping my head moves to my neck, thumb stroking my jaw in a tender move that completely contradicts the hold he has on me. ‘Eyes, Amelia.’
Panting heavily, I lift my head and nod, gazing at him through lidded eyes. Satisfied, he starts to move again, picking up speed until I can’t breath, until all I know is the way he feels inside me, hitting the same mind-numbing spot again and again.
Not long passes before the coil in my lower belly tightens again and I explode around him, nails digging into his shoulder as my mouth drops open, my moans getting stuck in my throat.
He doesn’t stop, not for a second. If anything, his movements get more furious. His grip on me tightens, fingers digging into my ass as he fucks me relentlessly, his breathing getting more and more erratic, his thrusts getting sloppier. ‘Come with me, querida.’
‘I can’t,’ I moan, barely able to get my eyes open anymore. I’m spent, thoroughly spent, but he’s not having it.
‘You will.’
The hand encircling my neck slides between us, moving down and down until it settles on the sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves. I thrash in his grasp as he rubs agonizing, constant circles, the line between pain and pleasure blurring in the best way possible.
We unravel together, chanting each other’s names like a prayer as he spills into me with a groan. I collapse against him, my legs threatening to slip from his waist as I lose all control over my limbs, only kept in place by his strong arms. We stay like that for a moment, breathing rapidly, two wet, exhausted bodies stuck together in every way possible.
I hiss quietly as Nick pulls out of me, the dull throbbing between my legs suddenly becoming apparent. Kissing my shoulder softly, he sets me down on shaky legs only to immediately pick me up again when my legs crumble beneath me. ‘I think you broke me.’
Nick laughs huskily, securing one arm around my waist to hold me up, using the other to smooth my wet hair back from my face. His smile morphs into a more serious expression as his intense gaze darts around my face, taking in every flushed detail before settling on my eyes. ‘You are the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.’
If I wasn’t already a melted mess, I definitely would’ve become a puddle on the floor and disappeared down the drain. With a dopey smile on my face, I kiss him again, pouring every emotion I’m too scared to express verbally into it
He is perfect.
Legitimately perfect.
The best person I’ve ever known.
Slumping against him, I intertwine my fingers with his and bring them to my lips, kissing his knuckles quickly, my voice trembling as I admit, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too.”
