Page 57 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
“What are the ropes for?” I ask.
“One of the bad things about waterbeds is they can be difficult to get out of, especially with a bum hip. The rope is so I can pull myself upright if I need to.”
“Oh. Oh, good, you have no idea what was going through my mind.” I giggle a little from nervous relief.
“I can guess,” he says, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “But no. I like plain, old vanilla lovemaking with maybe a little coconut and lemon to spice it up.”
“Coconut and lemon?” I ask. Then I get it. “My shampoo!”
“Is that what it is?” Charles asks, stretching out beside me.The bed sloshes, a mini tsunami. I bounce up and down on the waves and beach against his side. He begins tenderly undoing my buttons, one by one, taking his own sweet time about it.
I shiver as the cool air from the air conditioner hits my skin. Then I shiver from excitement as Charles begins kissing down the front of me, starting with my forehead, my lips, my chest, my belly button, and then breathes his hot breath through my slacks, setting every nerve a-tingle with desire.
I try to reach for him, try to get out of my pants, but the water bed sloshes under me, its motion defeating coordination.
“Easy,” Charles says. “You’ve got to work with it. It’s like swimming, only with a skin over the water. Just rock a little . . .”
I try that and manage to skin out of my slacks. Then I go to work on Charles’ buttons. “You’re overdressed for the ocean,” I tell him.
He obligingly peels out of his shirt, then his trousers and boxers. I roll against him, reveling in the feel of his hot skin against mine. His erection throbs against my hip, and I reach down to cup him in my hand. Then I reach up toward his shoulder, stretching as far across his chest as I can manage.
As if guessing my wish, Charles pulls me up on top of him, but keeps me tantalizingly away from my target. He cups my buttocks in both his hands.
“Two good handfuls,” he murmurs into my hair. “Muscular, not flabby.”
“No time to go flabby,” I murmur. Then I think that probably isn’t the sexiest thing I could have said. But Charles either ignores the comment, or has his mind on other things, because he has shifted one hand under me and is gently caressing me in all sorts of interesting ways and places.
I kiss his neck, then breathe in his ear. He slips two fingers inside me, massaging my clitoris gently with the palm of his hand. It feels good. Really, really good. But I want more.
I want more, and I want it now! I try to move his hand out of the way so I can reach the object of my desire.
“You want it that much?” he asks softly, moving so his penis brushes against my inner thigh.
“Yes,” I say.
“All right,” he says, moving his hand aside.
I lift myself on my knees as best I can on the sloshing, unsteady surface of the bed. It does that tsunami thing again. I nearly lose my balance, but Charles catches me, deftly slipping inside.
It is amazing. I feel whole, completed, as if we are made to fit perfectly together. Charles cups my knees in his hands, and we begin rocking together.
The bed rocks with us, like some primeval part of the ocean. I lose myself in the feel of him, sliding in and out, building to a rhythm that is as old as time itself.
Inside me, the energy builds — a tsunami of a different kind. Charles is inside me, his strong hands bracing my knees, helping me flow with the tides. I feel as if I am flowing into the universe, becoming one with everything.
“I wish I could see the stars,” I whisper.
“I see a star,” Charles whispers back.
Then the tides are too strong for talk. I need him. I need all of him! His rhythm shifts becoming strong and hard. The waves of the waterbed become a storm at sea. We crest together, then rock slowly, cradled in the residual rhythms of the waterbed. Lost in each other, we cuddle together.
I kiss the side of Charles’ neck. He tastes salty and somehow warm and wholesome. He is everything I need, but I don’t know if he is mine to keep.
Chapter twenty-three
Charles
September passes in a blur. Every chance I get, I spirit Kate away from the house on some pretext or other. In October, I sadly drain the waterbed and put it away. No point in letting it become a giant chunk of ice.
