Wet(11)

Yeah, who the fuck was he kidding? His world hadn’t been right for ten years. So what did it matter?

He pulled his mouth from hers and dropped to his knees, the need to be inside her so powerful he could barely think straight, could barely listen to that inner voice warning that he was headed down a path there’d be no coming back from. Christ, he needed this to stop as much as he needed it to continue.

“Oh God, T,” she cried out and arched her back.

He slid his tongue over her quivering body, brushing her nipples and taking his sweet time to draw her pebbled nubs into his mouth. He sucked long and hard until his mouth had had its fill, then his tongue drifted downward. He gripped her legs and spread them even wider.

Christ, he ached to pay homage to her pussy, to feast on her hot, wet clit, and swipe his tongue across her sensitive bundle of nerves. He ached to hear her scream his name during orgasm. Ached to release inside her just one more time.

Just. One. More. Time.

But again something inside him screamed that once would never be enough. Not with her. Not with his Katy.

He was just about to close his mouth over her sex when a noise sounded outside. Someone or something had rattled the door so hard the glass nearly shattered. Heart racing, Trent rocked back on his heels and glanced up at Katy. She was staring down at him, equal mixtures of arousal and unease spreading across her flushed cheeks.

Trent worked to find his voice. “You expecting company, Katy?”

She shook her head quickly. “No.”

The noise sounded again, but this time it came from the other side of the beach house. Trent twisted and glanced out the beachside window. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Katy said, breathless. “I heard noises outside earlier before you showed up. I brushed it off as the dock.”

“That’s not the dock.”

Trent climbed to his feet and scrubbed his hand over his jaw. He could see how much the banging had scared Katy. Her eyes were wide, blinking rapidly, and her chest was rising and falling erratically, although he could also blame her body’s responses on her arousal.

When he noticed the open curtains, he sheltered her exposed body, reached around her and released the bound strap. He draped her house coat over her shoulders to cover her up.

“Thanks.” Katy went straight to her window to draw the blinds. Her voice sounded sheepish when she said, “We forgot…”

“I know.” Which was so unlike him. He wasn’t into exhibitionism and coveted his privacy. Unlike Katy, he could never be a TV personality. He was just a small town boy who liked to remain behind the scenes. But in his quest to be inside her, he’d lost his ability to think straight and it had him forgetting the basics, like drawing the curtains and hiding them from the public’s eye.

The front door rattled again, and Trent tensed. He gestured with a nod. “I should go look.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He could hear the worry in her voice, but underneath he detected disappointment. She wanted this encounter to play out every bit as much as he did. “Do you think it could be an old high-school buddy pulling a prank on you?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” With the reunion   and everyone returning home, the thought had occurred to him. It also occurred to him that no matter how much he wanted to make love to Katy, whoever was out there had stopped him in the nick of time. Before he did something he might regret later.

Trent stepped back and turned as Katy pulled on a pair of jeans and T-shirt. “Wait. I’ll come with you.”

“No. You stay here.”

He left her in the bedroom and walked to the front door. He inched it open and peered outside. When he met with silence, he stepped out into the night and glanced around. He spotted movement at the end of the long sandy lane and bolted from the house.

When he reached the street and heard a whistle, his mind raced. What the hell was going on?

“Harold?”

Harold turned. “Yeah, boy, what is it I can I do for ya?”

Why would Harold be out strolling the streets at night, especially after his recent incident at the hospital?

He tapped an impatient foot. “Well out with it, boy, I ain’t got all night, ya know.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Taking a stroll.” He tapped his chest and gave a mischievous wink. “Gotta keep the old ticker ticking, boy.”

Trent glanced behind him and judged the amount of time it would take to get from the beach house to the street. Harold was old, frail, surely he couldn’t have banged on the door then made it to the street in such a short time.

Trent decided to ask anyway, but it sounded crazy, even to himself. “Were you just up at the beach house?”