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"Ah, here's one. Ella Morris," I announced, snuggling closer to Mitch as we examined her application.
"Single, 45, and quite the impressive resume," he squinted, scrolling through my phone. "And she has a ton of references too."
Ella's response to my email led to us scheduling an interview for 10:00 AM the following day at Mitch's bungalow.
"It feels almost too perfect," Mitch murmured as he scooped me up, spinning me around. "How about we take a walk on the beach to unwind?"
The thought of strolling hand in hand with Mitch along the ocean's edge made my heart race. "Sounds wonderful," I agreed. "Just give me a moment to slip out of these yoga pants. They're hardly beach appropriate."
"Sure, that'll give me time to text Mike and Greg. We need them to discreetly tail us." Mitch reached for his phone.
I dashed to my bedroom, donning a chic tank top and a breezy peasant skirt. Tying a vivid, eye-catching sarong around my waist, I admired the fashionable beach look in the mirror before announcing, "Ready for the beach!"
As we stepped out of my apartment, the sun cast a warm, golden glow on the sand and waves. The cool sand under our bare feet contrasted with the pleasant air, creating a perfect setting for our delightful walk along Coronado Beach.
Mitch's hand found mine, and as our fingers intertwined, a rush of heat surged through me. We ambled in contented silence, the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves calming our frazzled nerves.
Soon, Mitch started sharing his plans for rearranging his home to make room for his baby daughter. I could see the love and eagerness in his eyes as he showed me her picture for the umpteenth time. "She's breathtaking," I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder.
"She is," Mitch agreed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But not as breathtaking as you."
I felt a warmth spread through me, my cheeks flushing with delight. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"
He chuckled softly. "I guess I'm just lucky that way…"
As we meandered hand in hand, life's worries seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.
Unexpectedly, Mitch stopped and turned to face me, his intense gaze searching mine. "Amy," he said, his voice low and fervent, "I know we've weathered some storms lately, but I need you to know how much I appreciate all you do for me. You're an exceptional woman, and I'm incredibly blessed to have you in my life."
Tears welled in my eyes, moved by Mitch's heartfelt words. "Thank you, Mitch. You're an amazing friend, too, and I'm grateful we're in this together... I can't wait to meet Ava."
My stomach grumbled with an undeniable fervor, betraying my hunger. "Perhaps we ought to return home and grab some dinner," I proposed, chuckling sheepishly.
Mitch's eyes sparkled as he countered, "I've got a more enticing proposition." He gestured ahead. "A little further past the next dune lies the Surfside Cafe."
My heart danced at the suggestion. The Surfside was one of those cherished spots I couldn't resist. "What a fabulous idea. I hadn't realized we'd ventured this far," I admitted, stealing a glance at the distance we had covered.
We pressed on until the quaint Surfside Cafe unveiled itself. Seated at an alfresco table with the mesmerizing ocean as our backdrop, I sensed my residual stress dissolving while sipping my Piña Colada. The exotic libation flawlessly harmonized with the serene beach ambiance.
A blissful haze enveloped me as we treated ourselves to a second round of drinks and split a seafood platter overflowing with golden fried fish and crispy fries. Time became an elusive concept, and before I was aware, Mitch gently guided me from my chair, his sturdy hands supporting me as we readied ourselves to return to my apartment.
The surf ebbed and flowed, tickling our toes and tossing our hair. We enjoyed the sparkling stars and the bright moon shining over the water. Mitch wrapped his arm around my waist, and I moaned as our lips met. Deepening our kiss, my breasts pressed against his heaving chest. Finally, he pulled away and gasped, "Amy..."
My head spun with desire as Mitch scooped me up as if I were as light as a feather and took us to a secluded area between two dunes with a bare spot in the tall beach grass. Luckily, the guards could sense our intentions and gave us some privacy. Mitch looked at me with a tender expression and began to speak. "Amy, I've been fantasizing about this moment for months now."
So, when Mitch decided I didn't need my sarong, who was I to argue? My flesh tingled in that certain sensitive spot as I responded to his touch while watching him spread the silky fabric over the sand. My eyes, hooded with desire, gazed upon Mitch unbuttoning his shirt and watched him use it to make a pillow for my head. As I stretched out before him, Mitch stood there, staring at me — his buff torso a silhouette in the moonlight — shorts hung low on his hips.
A little breeze would be nice to cool my burning desire, and that meant that the loss of my panties wouldn't really bother me either, so I shimmied out of them, still covered by my peasant skirt.
The cool air was present only briefly before my skirt was pushed up my thighs, and the coolness was replaced by a hot and moist sensation that ignited pleasure in the most sensitive part of my body. I tried to wiggle away or maybe even closer, but Mitch's firm grip held me in place, and all I could manage was a surprised squeak. The bulging veins in his forearms emphasized his strength. The sudden rush of pleasure mixed with the alcohol was making me feel dizzy, and I was having trouble understanding what I was doing.
Now I was a pool of heat that begged for another form of attention, something to lessen the emptiness and speed along the process Mitch had initiated. That wasn't to be, though, not yet. Mitch raised his head, kissing his way up my belly and chest as he fluidly lifted my comfy tank top at the same time. Then finding me braless, he used two fingers and one nipple to set the unstoppable in motion. The pulse between my legs became a mind of its own, and I finished what Mitch had started, tossing away my shirt completely.
Nothing kept our bodies apart. Mitch slid between my knees where I lay, pressing his chest against mine and going in for a sweet kiss. My excited brown nubs caught on the grooves of Mitch's muscles, adding to the pleasure of our deep, undulating kisses.
Fingers took a handful of my hair, gently but firmly tugging my head back so soft lips could play with the sensitive skin on my neck. Glancing down, I couldn't see what Mitch was doing because his head was level with my chest. I could only feel the kisses creeping down my neck to my shoulder, then across my chest to —
I couldn't hold back a gasp when his teeth scraped across my nipple, shockingly sharp but so gentle that it was only the surprise that wrung the sound from me. Teeth vanished to be replaced by apologetic lips. I relaxed again, melting into Mitch's embrace and watching the top of his head intently, waiting for him to break away so I could feel his lips on mine again.
