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His eyes meet mine. “You haven’t said yes.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I’m guessing this is why I’m not covered in sunscreen yet.
His hair tickles my ribs, but I don’t laugh because his tongue has found the hollow over my belly button. It slides down my sun-warmed skin, sending my pulse to skittering.
Then it dips into my belly button, his lips pressing against me.
He swallows but doesn’t lift his head. “Some got away,” he says, then runs his tongue across my hip bone.
The turquoise bikini is tiny. I don’t need much to cover me. He licks along the edge, so low on my pelvis that my vision swims.
Then he’s back on the other side, sucking against my waist.
“You got it all yet?” I ask.
He lifts his gaze to mine, and our eyes meet in the haze of the sun. “You have a tan line,” he says. His finger slips just inside the bikini. “Right here.”
“Are tan lines a party foul?” I ask. I can feel my heartbeat between my legs.
“What I’m saying is we could even things out.” His finger flirts with the string, tugging on the end.
“Okay.” I watch him pull out the bow, then slip his thumb beneath it to untie the knot.
Then he works the other side. “I think I’ve found a spot I missed earlier.”
“There’s still salt?”
He eases the bikini down. “Mm-hmm.” He presses his tongue on the pale triangle of skin I shaved clean this morning before our outing.
“Down there?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You better get that.”
He spreads my knees, settling between my legs. The ocean waves rush against the sand in a roar. Birds caw in the distance.
His tongue gently dips along the folds, making my body quiver. He goes in deeper, and my hands grasp fists of sand on either side of the blanket as everything falls away but him, his hands holding my thighs apart, his mouth working me.
I cry out, sucking in the salty margarita air, ready to bite down on life, ingest it all, memorize every sensation.
He cups my bottom and lifts me higher, delving deeper, sucking, flicking his tongue against the bud he’s exposed.
The sun sears my eyelids, and the world is a haze of bright light, sand, and pleasure. He reaches one hand up to untie the bikini top, exposing the rest of me to the dazzling sky.
His fingers work my breasts, his mouth tasting all of me. The vibrations gather in my belly, tightening, throbbing, growing in strength.
“Gabe ...” I feel lost in the heat and the fervor. He’s learned my body, what it needs. He moves with me, my pelvis rocking into him. The pressure increases, and my body draws in. My breath is fast and raspy.
I need Gabe to take me over the edge. I need everything.
And then it goes, all the tension releasing at once. My body pulses against him as he holds still, drawing out the orgasm, keeping me firmly against his mouth.
My cries disturb the birds and they squawk their displeasure, rushing off in a flap of wings.
I laugh, coming down but feeling high, like the perfect moment when you have just the right buzz. Not drunk, not sober, but in the ideal in-between.
