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

feet thudded against the ungiving earth. It wasn’t unusual to see a seaman vomiting into bushes the first few days after landing.

My days of vomiting into bushes were over, but there were other ongoing adjustments. Almost thirty-six years old, and I had no career, no passion, no sense of what I wanted to do with my life. Day by day, working on my grandmother’s cottage and surfing were the only two activities keeping me going. And when winter came and I’d fixed the beach place up, what then?

The screen door snapped open then slammed against the frame. She wore a sundress with thin straps, and a small black cardigan that fell off one shoulder, leaving it bare. The top of the dress sloped down into a V between her breasts and draped around her soft, slender curves.

In two steps, I captured her lips and pressed her body against the door. A fresh floral scent wafted around us, so different from the coconut. She gasped as I explored her body, massaging her perfect breasts, tweaking her nipples into eager peaks, and working lower as I lifted the hem of her short dress. My fingers led the expedition through her slick folds, and she spread her legs further, making room as she writhed against my body and fumbled with my shorts. As I pumped my fingers in and out, she gripped my cock. I wrapped my hand around the base and lifted her dress higher and pulled her panties to the side, out of the way. I drug my swollen head through her slick folds, and my whole body tensed, completely turned on, on edge, ready to erupt.

Her hips edged forward, welcoming me inside as we both watched my tip, entering, in and out.

She tugged on my hair, and I tore my gaze away, my hand still gripped around my base.

“Not against the screen door.”

“There’s something I saw once that I’ve been wanting to try. You game?”

She whimpered, and it sounded like yes.

“I’m going to lift you, and when I do, wrap your legs around me.”

I lifted her body, every muscle in my chest and back flexing, and I slid her down onto my ready and waiting cock. Her warmth tightened around me.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

She gripped my hair and tugged as I held her and moved her up and down my shaft. Soon, all my muscles burned ever so slightly from the strain of standing and lifting and owning her body, using it exactly as I needed. I pivoted, seeking the reprieve of a wall, and my shorts fell around my ankles. I stepped out of them as her muscles squeezed and pulsed around my cock.

I slammed her back against the wall and pounded into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room until I spiraled out of control, pulsing my release deep within her. Panting, I kissed her forehead then found her lips again, still inside her, at peace.

She slid her feet to the floor, and I held her tight, tasting along her neck and below her ear.

Finally, I backed away, picked up my shorts from the floor, and found my way to the bathroom. When I came out, an undeniable red dusting remained on her cheeks.

“Is that how you greet all your dates?” She handed me a glass of wine and didn’t wait for my answer. “I checked, and we’ve still got at least forty-five minutes before that casserole is ready. Why don’t we go outside and talk?”

The tips of her fingers found mine, and she led me onto the back porch. She went to sit in the far Adirondack chair, and I tugged her back to me.

“Uh-uh. Sit in my lap.” I needed to feel her skin. I wanted her close. Even if I should’ve been pushing her away.

It took us a minute of adjusting to find a comfortable position, but we ended up with her legs draped over one side and her relaxing against my arm, the top of her head just below my chin. The hum of the waves crashing beyond the dunes filled the air, and the warm breeze spread goosebumps across Luna’s arms. I wrapped mine around her, holding her tight, recognizing the reverberations of her beating heart. I closed my eyes, reveling in the perfection and the easy way my body responded to her, falling into her rhythm, letting tension go, breathing easier, freer and deeper, as if she herself were the oxygen I needed.

She broke the peaceful silence. “Now would be a good time to tell me.”

I kissed her forehead. “It’s a long story, Luna. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I don’t know him. He works for the same guy I used to work for. A repo guy. You see, at sea, fisherman don’t always own their boats. Fishing companies don’t always own their boats.”

“They fall behind on payments. I know what a repo man is. I was in second grade when the repo man came and took my dad’s Trans Am.”

“Really?” I asked, amused for some inappropriate reason. “Were you guys…did that happen a lot?” It occurred to me I really didn’t know much about Luna. She was in graduate school, so I’d assumed her background was like mine.

“Only time the repo man came. My mom refused to pay that bill with her money. She’d been mad when Dad bought it. He said it was a splurge and didn’t seem too upset when they hauled it off. But we’re not changing the subject. Tell me about the repo man of the sea.”

I sighed, not really wanting to admit what I had evolved to, going from man on a mission to save the planet to man getting paid by an industry without regard for life.

“Well, I worked for him. At first, I saw him as being an effective arbiter of the ocean. The governments can only monitor two hundred miles from the coastline. That leaves a lot of open waters for all kinds of…crap.” My