Page 68 of Memories By the Shore
“Just like that, Avery.” His voice is husky and desperate, making me burn.
I arch my back, enjoying both the dull pain and pleasure of it.I can’t imagine having done this before Jasper.He is everything to me.
After a few more deep thrusts, I feel his muscles begin to shake.Oh fuck, he’s going to do it.Preparing myself for the last few pulses, I feel his hand move in between us, then his finger goes right to my clit. On contact, electricity fires off through my body. He massages me in a circular motion and picks up his pace.
“Oh my god,” I grit out, my foot kicking the steering wheel.
“Same time,” he replies. It takes me a second to realize what he means, but by that time, a tingling sensation bowls over me. My head falls back, and I suck in a breath just as Jasper slams into me one last time.
His entire body goes limp, forcing him to collapse on top of me. I’m out of breath and buzzing all over. Jasper’s head rests on my chest. Our bodies are slick with arousal and sweat. It’s fucking amazing.
“I want to do that every goddamn day.” I giggle uncontrollably with euphoria.
He chuckles into the skin above my nipple that’s now half out of the top of my dress.
“As soon as my house closes, I plan to live only on sex and surfing,” he says.
His house closes in August.
I leave for college at the end of August.
And with that, the high of summer love has dissipated.
Chapter Twenty-One
Now
Jasper
The excitement of the Coconut Grove Days never fails to amaze me. Tourists flock in to experience the best of our small beachside town. They can sample food and drinks from the best restaurants, listen to live music, and take home fresh produce. For the kids, there are carnival rides and games. The Chamber of Commerce puts on this event every year. This is will be the new CEO, Chris’ first year, and I told him I’d offer my support.
As I walk down the long row of vendors, I mentally take inventory of who is fully set up and who still needs assistance.
“Beth, let me help you with that,” I say, coming up behind the older woman, bringing one of the signs to place outside her tent.
“Oh, Jasper, you’re the best,” she says, letting go so I can bear the weight. “Thank you.”
“No worries.” I nod in her direction.
“Which one do you think will be the favorite this year?” I divethe metal spokes on the bottom of the sign into the ground. All her flavors of jam are in our local cafés and restaurants.
“Although peach is a community favorite, I think this year blackberry is going to be the big winner.” Her eyes sparkle, looking toward me from a hunched-over position.
“Blackberry has always been my favorite.”
“I know,” she says. “I’ll make sure to save you a jar.”
I finish adjusting the two signs, then turn to Beth. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Of course,” I say, sliding down my sunglasses, expecting the sun to blaze into us now that it’s late afternoon.
The vendor rows are filling up fast. I wave at each owner as I pass. Then I spot Easton’s booth toward the end of the row.
I head right for my friend. “Hey, man.”
“What’s up?” he greets me as I approach.
