Rogue Wave by Isabel Jolie (reading eggs books txt) 📕

it just be about experiencing life? Living?” Jesus, that was what I tried to tell my parents when they were devastated about my breakup. Dating Brandon didn’t equate to a lifelong commitment. Life was too short.

“I wish I’d met you when I was twenty-two.” He brushed a kiss across my forehead and along my cheek, and my insides melted around him. If he’d been in my grad program, we could’ve been inseparable.

I tugged on the neck of his t-shirt, exposing the top portion of his chest, and I dipped to place a kiss. The fresh soap smell from our recent shower lingered, but he tasted faintly of salt.

“Did you have a girlfriend then?” The question popped into my mind as I tried to envision a younger Tate, the guy Gabe described as irreverent and carefree.

“I did.”

“What happened? Did she break your heart?”

“No. When I set sail, she broke up with me. Lots of couples broke up around graduation, headed down different paths.” He sounded wistful.

“Oh, I don’t know. Some relationships might not last forever, but that doesn’t mean they are any less important. Relationships come in all shapes and sizes, and all levels of magnitude.” I no longer loved Brandon, but our relationship shaped me. If anything, it scared me, because I fell out of love, and I didn’t understand why. And maybe that wouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it hurt my parents, my sister, and Brandon.

He pulled me down for a deep kiss, and our tongues tangled. I ground my hips against him, and he groaned. He broke the kiss and cradled my face.

“All shapes and sizes, huh? Is that the voice of experience?”

“Sort of?” I asked.

“Lots of boyfriends, Luna?” He pulled back, putting more room between our chests. I prepared to explain, but his next question derailed me. “Do you work with Poppy?”

I grinned, instantly understanding his question, since I avoided answering the last time he asked it. “No. I don’t work for the site she works for.”

“Good.”

“That would bother you? If I made some extra money on the side?”

He pushed me back, and sand spilled down the top of my t-shirt and into the waistband of my shorts, but I ignored the scratchy sensation and focused on the warm weight above me. He kissed me again, and when he pulled away, I repeated my question.

He raised up on his forearms, his chest hovering above me.

“I don’t like the idea of any human being using their body for income.”

“But it’s her right.”

“Yes, and I know that. And I don’t have any rights over you. I can’t tell you no. But you asked. I wouldn’t like it if you did it.”

“I kind of like that you wouldn’t like it.” And I did. His possessiveness, or protectiveness, it infused a warmth around me. I lifted the bottom of his t-shirt, but his hand wrapped around mine, stopping it.

“We can go back to my cottage.”

“But why not out here? Under the moonlight and the stars, with the ocean breeze blowing? It’s a fantasy of mine.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he kissed my chin. “Fantasy. I like the sound of that. But sex on the beach is one fantasy I’ve tried, and I can tell you it’s definitely better as fantasy than reality.”

“No one’s going to come around. Even if they did, we’re so far up toward the dunes no one would see.” I reached for his crotch, hoping to convince him. “My name is Luna. Making love under the moon feels natural. Like it’s meant to be.”

“Sand gets everywhere. We don’t even have a blanket.”

“Now you sound old,” I complained. Then I had an idea. I positioned him on the sand on his knees. He had no idea what I was doing, but when I lowered his shorts and his erection jutted out into the night air, he quickly got the picture.

I took him in my mouth, working him with my tongue and every now and then grazing his silky crown with my teeth, listening intently for his moans and groans as his hand gripped my hair, both holding it away from my mouth and guiding me up and down.

“Fuck, Luna. You have no idea how good that feels. So tight. So fucking good.” His cock widened in my mouth, and his hips flexed several times with increasing urgency.

Voices carried over in the wind, and I snapped up, looking up and down the beach. A bright yellow flashlight shone, and the shadows of two bodies could be seen in the distance. Locals would use a red light, so as not to confuse any hatching turtles. I considered going to explain why their flashlight was a bad idea, but Tate’s groan brought me back to the moment and the sand digging into my knees.

Tate’s abandoned dick stood out like a flagpole, and I pulled his shorts back up, giggling at his frustrated expression.

“Are you kidding me?” he growled.

“Wait. I’ve got to go talk to them.” I ran down the beach to the couple. I explained there might be a hatching, and we’d appreciate it so much if they didn’t use the yellow light, which might confuse the hatchlings. The older couple was gracious and turned off the enormous flashlight they’d been carrying. The whole thing took less than two minutes, and I scurried back to Tate as quickly as I could.

“Let’s go back to your place.”

He pointedly looked down at his tented board shorts.

“You can do it,” I teased.

“Fuck, Luna,” he whined while I giggled like a schoolgirl the entire way back to his cottage.

He rushed me down the boardwalk, pinching my ass or my nipple as I squealed while we made our way home.

I stopped to pick up the hose to spray the sand off our feet, and he scooped me up and carried me inside.

“But the sand.”

Before the screen door slammed shut, his shorts hit the floor, and then his fingers tugged on mine, delivering them the same fate. Within seconds, he had me against the wall, my