I fuck him and thrust against him in the way he usually does to me, and his mouth tells me it is everything he wants in this moment. As I near my release, my legs start to shake. He reaches around my hips, clutching my bottom, and fiercely pulls my pussy to his mouth, sealing himself to me. He sucks deep and hard on my clit as my orgasm overcomes me. Incredible. I sink down to his lap, and he strokes my hair as my breathing returns to normal.

* * *

Beautiful. Everything about her. Her willingness to try everything I want her to, her bountiful insecurities, and also her less bountiful confidences. I love her intelligence, though she doesn’t see it in herself. She has a quiet sarcasm that pops out when you least expect it and constantly leaves me laughing. She’s compassionate in a way no person who’s suffered the abuse she has should still feel. And beyond all that, the damn way she keeps me coming back for more and more and more without ever tiring of her. I wonder if this night has been as amazing for her as it has been for me. The dichotomy of experiencing her in such an innocuous way as strolling down the sidewalk hand in hand compared to the utter heat of having my face fucked by her on the pier. Every man in the world should be so lucky to have this amazing dynamic in a partner. She is my partner—completely and totally mine, and I am as much hers.

Strolling back toward the land, again hand in hand, I refuse to think about our parting so near in the future. It consumes too much of my thought, but not on this night. Too perfect a night as this doesn’t need to be sullied by our pain. I’ve brought the blankets for a reason, and I intend to push my dread of losing her out of my mind with one final roll in the sack … or better stated, roll in the sand. As we near the beach off of the edge of the pier, it is clear privacy won’t be an issue tonight. It is deserted and dark on the stretch of sand that extends into the distance. The bluffs on the landside afford us all the solitude we could need—though there is no need whatsoever as our car is the only one in the parking lot.

We veer off the path rather than heading back to the car, and I see I’ve caught her interest, catching her sideways glance to me. I find a relatively flat stretch of sand, away from the lapping waves, and I lay both blankets down to give us a nice soft bed under the night sky. I lead her to the middle of the blanket, leaning my mouth down to hers. I pull her tongue deep within my mouth, suckling it with my mouth and lips. As I lay her down on the blanket, she looks up at me, desire and intrigue showing in her eyes. I spend time with her mouth some more, kissing and tasting her mouth before I pull her body on top of mine. I undo my zipper and set my cock free. It brushes her vagina, and a slight moan escapes her lips. I know her desire so well, and she starts pushing against my cock in want and need.

I still her hips and whisper huskily into her ear before nipping her earlobe. “Turn and put your pussy in my face.”

She registers what I want and slowly, perhaps a bit hesitantly, she complies. Soon I see the round globes of her ass framed against the night sky, and for the second time in so many minutes, I take her clit again. She wastes no time taking my cock into her mouth. And her strokes and tongue take me to orgasm in no time. I fuck her with my fingers thrusting swiftly as I pull her clit into my mouth. She comes on shaking knees before collapsing to my body, using my groin as a pillow and her warm entry against my chin. As she regains her strength, she rights herself against my body, and I pull the side of the top blanket up and over us. We lie in silence, our bodies snug to each other, enjoying the quiet sound of the surf lapping the shore. And long after we curl up together, I break from her body in reluctance, standing to pull her up to her feet. It’s time to head home.

We have a good forty-five minute drive, and it is nearing ten o’clock already. She looks tired but content as I help her back into the Jeep, leaning to her mouth for one last taste before we head home. She starts to doze on the trip as I mindlessly stroke her hand with mine. When we get home, I lead her upstairs to bed and pull her dress off. I unfasten her bra as she shrugs out of it with a stretch and a yawn. I quickly strip out of my jeans and shirt and join her. We are out in moments.

Chapter 17

I’m up early and out the door before she wakes the next morning. I have an early morning meeting with my advisor to review my thesis before I head to Grand Rapids for another day at the DA’s office. Sara’s birthday dinner is this evening, and I have a lot to get done before I can meet my family and Rowan at the restaurant. At lunch, I call to check in with Rowan to see what she is up to, and I’m instantly happy just to hear her voice. I apologize for not being home when she woke that morning, before assuring her I’ll see her that night. When five o’clock finally rolls around, I head out the door and rush off to meet my family.

I enter the restaurant, a great little French place in the heart of Grand Rapids, and I’m directed to my waiting family. My parents stand to greet me, my mother kissing my cheek and my father shaking my hand. I hug Sara, wishing her a happy birthday before casually taking the chair next to Rowan and perhaps not so casually saying hi to her. My parents order a bottle of wine as Sara steals drinks from my glass every time my parents look away. They’re not fooled, but begrudge her this small treat; she is eighteen, after all.

We talk and eat and talk some more. When the conversation turns to my next trip to Colorado, Rowan stills beside me, and her mood shifts—perhaps not perceptible to anyone but me, but it is an obvious settling of her spirit. When Sara starts talking about hers and Rowan’s plans for next year, my mood begins to shift. Rowan makes it understood that she notices as she crosses her leg and allows her foot to hook behind my calf and caress me—terribly bold of her. I’m impressed. I steal a look at her with gratitude in my eyes for her much needed touch. We both look up to see a quizzical look cross my mother’s face before we both glance away, blushing. Oops. My mother lets it go quickly before returning to Sara’s excited chatter about school and Ann Arbor.

Sara and Rowan will be getting an off-campus apartment of their own when they move to Ann Arbor, and my parents are thrilled they’ll be together. My parents trust Rowan’s judgment and know she’ll be a good and faithful friend to Sara. They know just how much Sara cares for Rowan as well. And an idea settles into my mind as I listen to their conversation.

I still have to deal with the aftermath of my moving away to Colorado and where Rowan will stay for the summer, but if I can get my parents to go along with this little idea of mine, I might just have that problem solved. I’m resolved to speak with them about it as soon as we’re away from Sara and Rowan. I don’t want to get Sara’s hopes up, and knowing Rowan will understand my ulterior motive, I want to give her no chance to argue.

Sara asks her to spend the night, so they can “study”, which is code for hang out and do nothing productive at all, and Rowan agrees as disappointment hits me like a fist to the stomach. Rowan drove herself, so once dinner is over, Sara is anxious to be on her way. The last I see of Rowan that night is her backward and somewhat lingering and begrudging glance as Sara pulls her from the table. I’ll miss her tonight as I always do when we are apart, but I’m thankful for the opportunity it has afforded me to set my plan into motion.

Once they’ve rounded the corner and are out of view, I open my mouth to speak, but before I do, my mother, perceptive as always, launches an inquisition. “Honey, are you okay? You seem different lately… I don’t know why, just different.”

“I’m fine. I’m just busy and have a lot to do before the move.”

“Is there anything you need to talk to us about?” Damn leading questions, and her stare is penetrating.

As I glance around, trying not to let my unspoken emotion register on my face, I respond. A bold lie, but a response all the same. “Nope. I’m fine. Really.” She still has the penetrating stare.

But she gives it up and turns and speaks to my father. “Aren’t you glad Row will be with Sara next year, Marcus? I feel so much better knowing they’ll be together.” And as my father agrees, her eyes snap right back on me, gauging my reaction to her words. Shit! I look away nervously, but not before my eyes catch hers one more time. She isn’t upset, just inquisitive and perplexed. That’s my mother. Not much gets past her, especially when it comes to the emotional part of being human.

But I have a mission, and I intend to stay on course. So I continue. “What would you think of letting Sara stay at my apartment for the summer? Of course, Row could have the second bedroom. They’ll be living together come next fall anyway. It might be a fun way for them to spend the summer. They’re going to be on their own come next fall. Think of it as a trial run for next year.”

My mom’s eyes are narrow and watching me—still intent on trying to read my mind. I give the performance of my life and coolly look right back at her. Like I said, this is a mission, and an important one at that. My father weighs this and speaks while my mother still tries to work me over with her Jedi mind tricks. “I don’t know. What do you think, Ronnie? I wouldn’t have a problem with it. They’d still be close, and quite frankly, there’s little difference whether we rent it out early summer or late. Ronnie?” And still she is studying my face. “Ronnie?” My father again, finally capturing her attention.

She weighs in. “I don’t have a problem with it as long as you’re okay with it. It will be nice to keep them close but give them their freedom. Maybe this will help me adjust to the separation next fall… I have to let them go eventually, after all.” And again, eyes boring holes into my brain. She’s the one who should have been the lawyer.

My plan worked out perfectly, so I need only sit back and let it run its course. My parents will tell Sara, and Sara will, of course, tell Rowan. If I’m lucky, it will never get back to Rowan that it was my idea. My fear is she’ll feel bad for my concern or … what? I don’t know what. I just don’t want to take the chance she’ll turn this down. And the more she thinks it is coming from Sara and my parents, the more willing she will be to go along with it. That seems backward. She’s my lover. Yet she so readily and easily disagrees with me. Shouldn’t it be easier for me to convince her of such things than others? But then, it never has been easy to get her to go along with my ideas. I doubt I’d want her any other way, though. I like her feisty and determined, so long as she’s pliant and agreeable in my bed.

Chapter 18

I don’t see Rowan again until late the next evening when she gets home from her lesson with Anthony. She comes in wearing a zip-up sweatshirt over her leotard and tights and a pair of yoga pants. Her hair is still up in a high bun, and she looks amazing. Her porcelain pale skin is shown off so perfectly when her hair is pulled up this way. The delectable lines of her neck make me instantly want to taste her skin, and I’m ready for her the moment she approaches me on the couch. I pull her to my lap so she’s straddling me, and I can feel her warmth as she presses against my hard, anxious cock. I pull her hips hard to meet my erection and lean into her waiting neck. Soon her sweatshirt is on the ground, and I have only to peel her out of her leotard to get to her nipples. They are taught and tight, ready to be touched. But as I pull the straps of her leotard down her shoulders, she stays my hand.

And with a bite of her lower lip she explains the interruption. “I’m sweaty and smell disgusting.” Humph. I’ll take her smelling any damn way I can get her, but as I return to her straps, shaking off her comment, she stops me again with a small smile. “Please. I’m too self-conscious when I’m this sweaty and gross. Can I just take a shower first?” Hmm. Rowan in the shower… Don’t mind if I do.

I say nothing, swiftly lifting her from my lap and marching her off to my bathroom. Having started the shower, I return to de-clothe her, peeling her yoga pants to the ground. Her leotard and tights are all that remain between me and the body I so desperately want to touch. Having been admonished for touching her too much when she’s sweaty, I decide to respect her space—but only so long as I enjoy myself in the process. I start directing my most favorite show. Rowan … naked Rowan.