Page 66 of Juicy Pickle


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“Yes.”

I stand and help her up. She looks at my swim trunks. “Without those, though.”

“Your wish is my desire.”

I pull on the tie, but she pushes my hands away. “Let me.”

When she kneels in front of me, her naked body licked by firelight, I’m not sure my dick can get any harder. Every beat of my blood rushes to the same place.

But she’s not done. When my trunks hit the sand, her mouth is on me, taking me in. Now it’s my hands in her hair, my face to the starry sky.

I will never want to leave here.

She works me to the brink, but I want more of her. All of her. I step back and sweep her into my arms. “I’m going to do unspeakable things to you in the ocean.”

She squeals as I dodge the fallen beach chairs and branches. “Rhett Armstrong, you are so wild!”

I slow down in the surf, unable to know for sure if debris lies below the dark water. When we’re out waist-deep, I turn her in my arms to face me, her legs around my waist.

The moonlight washes her body in blue. We’re wet now, dripping, and I’ve never wanted anything in my life more than I want her.

She holds onto my neck. “This is the wildest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Let this be the first of many.” I shift her against me. “Ready?”

“Hell, yeah, I am.”

I hold nothing back when I slam into her.

She lets out a shriek that’s lost in the pounding of the surf.

I hold onto her thighs, reveling in the slickness of her body tight around me. The water shifts and moves as I lift her away, then slide her down, away, and back.

Her breasts are even with my mouth, so I capture one. Her body clamps down on me.

“Fuck, Rhett. Jesus!”

I hold her tight against me, gyrating deep inside her. The friction between us sets her off. “Goddamnit, Rhett. Not again. Not again. I can’t.”

I shift her against me, realizing what’s getting her. I double down, grinding our bodies together. She whimpers, clutching my shoulders. “It’s happening. Rhett. Oh my God.”

And I can feel her body responding, the tightening, the gentle pulse.

When her words crumble into random syllables again, I relinquish my control. I feel her, all the way to the core of me, her thighs, her wet skin, her breasts.

I unleash, the warmth coursing from me to her. The friction becomes silken, and our bodies, for a moment, seem to quiver in time with each other.

I bring her tightly against me, her wet hair sending rivulets down my back. Her face is buried in my neck.

The waves keep coming, sparkling with moonlight, endlessly moving toward the beach in their forever path.

I hold onto Bailey, wondering how and why we waited so long to figure out all our missteps, but knowing, with all the certainty of this ocean endlessly reaching for the shore, that I will never let her go.

25

BAILEY

That was…a lot.

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