I do as he says and gasp, holding a hand over my mouth as I languidly walk forward. Tears prickle my eyes when I see the dark blue ocean crashing against the shore.
He brought me to the ocean.
Whistler has made my California dream come true.
“This can’t be real.”
“It is Cupcake. I rented us a motel room on the beach too so the only thing we have to do is walk outside and park our asses in the sand. I wanted to bring you here first so I can watch you experience something for the first time. And I wanted to see your auburn hair in the California sun.” He shrugs a shoulder and twists a strand of my knotted hair around his finger. “I’m not disappointed.”
I giggle in disbelief. Kicking my shoes off, I laugh again and sprint toward the water. My toes sink into the soft sand, and I don’t hesitate to jump into the ocean, clothes and all.
It’s everything I’ve always wanted.
The water is warm and salty, calm with a small set of waves that hardly disrupt me. Seashells poke my toes and I bend down to grab a handful of wet sand from the bottom.
I want to build a sandcastle.
“How’s the water?” Whistler calls out to me from the shore.
He is dressed in black, and his leather cut reflects the sun. He must be burning up.
I dip my head underwater and swim to the shore. When I get my feet under me, I have to hold up the soaked sweatpants to keep them from falling.
“I didn’t think anything could be brighter than the sun, but your smile right now sure is giving it a run for its money.” He snaps a picture on his phone.
Sand sticks to me everywhere as I run to him. He tucks his phone in his pocket and I don’t give him time to think about what’s right. I slam against him and press my lips to his, long and hard, desperate and needy. The kiss is wet from the sea and the salt is hidden behind the wild taste of Whistler.
I’m drenching the front of his clothes, but he doesn’t care. He holds onto me tight and owns the kiss, flicking his tongue across my bottom lip while guiding my head in the direction he wants me to go in by cupping my jaw.
He kisses me wildly without rhythm, turning his head every few seconds to get more from the kiss. His lips are softer than what I imagined them to be, and his scruff rubs against the skin around my mouth, leaving behind an extra burn.
I never thought my dreams would come true, but then Whistler happened.
Proving people wrong has to be one of his specialties.
Regret doesn’t exist in dreams and that’s the last thing I feel with him. The beach is just a place, but the dream is Whistler.
Everything I knew, everything I thought I wanted for myself has changed in the blink of an eye.
Her lips are what second chances feel like. She’s kissing me with eagerness, her lips soft and pliant as she allows me to take control, something I never thought would happen given the circumstances.
It goes to show I can never assume to know someone’s healing process. Just because I have the privilege of tasting her kiss doesn’t mean another man would and I have a feeling that is exactly the case. I’ve seen her react around others and with me, she’s different.
I don’t know why she picked me, but I’ll always give her a reason to keep choosing me.
Skimming my hand up her spine, I cup the back of her head and apply more pressure, diving my tongue deeper into her tentative mouth. She gasps, her kiss stopping for a moment while I explore her depths. I growl when I taste how sweet she is, and I grin to myself.
I knew she was a cupcake.
My cock presses against my jeans, which are now wet from her clothes, and I know she can feel me. She doesn’t rub against me, and I don’t rock against her. I doubt that’s something she’s ready for, and I’m willing to wait.
I’d wait forever for her, no doubt about it.
Her hair is wet, and I slip my fingers through the strands. Bits of sand fall into my hand and the ends of her hair tickle along my forearm.
I slow the kiss, bringing it to a slow stop which has her whimpering in disagreement and curling her fingers against my stomach. Exhaling, I lean my forehead against hers and hold her, crossing my arms at the wrist behind her back, and swaying while the waves crash against the shore.
“Thank you,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it.
I brush my cheek against the top of her head and stare at the ocean. “For what?”
“Doing this. Going out of your way for me. Letting me experience something good.” She uses my stomach to push away, and I tilt my chin down to look at her. She’s fucking out of this world beautiful. All she wants is love. It shines from her.
And while those cornflower blue eyes have my heart enlarging with every beat, filling with how I feel for her, I’m going to make damn sure I give her what she wants.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for doing something that makes you happy. Plus, I think that kiss is thanks enough.” I tap the end of her nose and she smiles.
“I should have asked, I’m sorry. I was so happy and I've never felt so—”
I grip her chin and bend down, pressing a soft peck on her lips one more time. “You don’t ever have to ask to kiss me, Cupcake. Your kisses are something I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you.”
“Really? Why me? I’m nobody,” she scoffs, the wind changing direction and causing her hair to blow in her face.
“I know that’s what he made you believe, but to me, you’re somebody, Charlie. You’re my somebody. And I don’t care how long it takes to drain the poison he’s put in your mind; I’m going to show you that it’s you that has always been the somebody, while he has been the nobody. Understand?”
She nods, but I can see the doubt reflecting in her irises.
All good things take time and she’s a good thing.
“You’re shivering. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get you in some dry clothes.”
“I don’t have any other clothes.” Her teeth clink together, and I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm her.
I groan when I think of us warming up the natural way, naked body against naked body. We wouldn’t have to do a damn thing, but I could hold her and fall asleep with her bare back against the front of my chest.
“We better do some shopping first. We need to get you a swimsuit too.”
“Can we get coffee?” she asks, her eyes heavy with sleep.
“Can we get coffee,” I scoff, pressing my hand against her lower back to guide her to the bike. “Of course we can. A Hellhound needs his fix.”
She chuckles and the way the morning sun is hitting her cheek, I’m able to see grains of sand. I reach my hand toward her face, and she flinches, an action that breaks my heart every time I see it. Like every time, I show her I’m not going to hurt her. I brush the sand from her face and her shoulders sag in relief when she realizes she isn’t going to be hit.
One day, I’ll be able to touch her face without her flinching and that will be a day that makes history.
I clutch onto her hips, noticing how wide and thick they are, and I rumble in approval, a hundred different scenarios run through my mind of all the ways I can pleasure her body. My cock presses against my zipper and precome beads at the slit and pools into the material. I can feel the trickle and the tingle of desire.