Fall With Me(33)
Author: Bella Forrest

“Very nice,” he says, gently squeezing my br**sts.

I can’t help the groan that escapes from my mouth when he takes my nipple into his mouth. He runs his hands down my back, he squeezes my ass and then slaps it gently.

He brings his hands back around and pushes at the waist of my skirt, lowering himself to his knees. He slips my underwear off, running his hands from the innermost point of my thigh down past my knee, down my calf, the way you would to a horse to get it to lift its leg. I step out of the bathing suit; one leg, then the other. He brings his hands back up to my thighs and pushes my legs apart, lowering his head, his tongue making slow circles over my clit. He slides one finger, then another, easily into my vagina and I feel my stomach muscles contract as my breath catches in my throat. My legs have been reduced to jelly and I’m not exactly sure how it’s physically possible that I’m still upright.

He reaches a hand up to my breast and squeezes my nipple.

“I need to lie down,” I gasp.

He lifts his head but keeps his fingers inside me. “Whatever you want, baby,” he says.

The sand is cool on my backside. He repositions himself over me, his forearms on either side of my head. He leans down and we kiss; I run my hands over his shoulders, his biceps, the skin warm, stretched smooth over the thick muscles.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says.

I do, and I feel the head of his c**k brush lightly against my labia. He shifts his hips and the head slides in, less than an inch. He holds it there, and I arch my back, trying to get him to go deeper.

“What are you doing to me,” I say, pressing my face into his upper arm. He swivels his hips in slow figure 8s as he kisses my throat. Suddenly, he pushes himself all the way in so our pubic bones touch and my body jerks underneath; the sensation is so intense, I think that I’m about to either black out or explode in pleasure.

“Come for me,” he whispers in my ear.

I’ve never been able to orgasm through straight sex, but I can tell that I’m close. There’s a tingling warm sensation filling my pelvis, traveling down my legs all the way to my toes. It builds like a crescendo, with the ebb and flow of his movements, and if he stops now I’ll lose it, it’ll be gone, even if he starts again, so I dig my fingernails into his back and say, “Don’t stop.” It comes out breathless and my voice catches in my throat and I wrap my legs around him tighter and right as the feeling is about to peak he shifts his hips upward slightly and he hits some new spot, some place that Sean and the handful of other guys I’d ever been with never even came close to finding and I’m arching my back, trying to keep him in me as deep as he can and my brain is buzzing, a million beautiful fireworks exploding in front of my eyes.

“Good girl,” he says when we’re finished. He rolls off me and onto his side and props his head up on one hand. “You’re a lot of fun.”

It still feels as though there’s an electric current running through my body, everything is tingling, there is a residual buzz that seems to have settled over me like a fine mist.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he tilts his head forward so our foreheads are touching.

“I want to tell you something,” I say. Usually I am not so direct, not so willing to just put something out there. But there is something different about him. He feels safe, yet also exciting, and it’s like this wall that I didn’t even know I had up is starting to crumble. “I am really happy you washed up on the beach that night.”

“And that you got to be the one to rescue me. I always wanted to be rescued by a beautiful lady.”

“And I’m the one that got to rescue you.”

“Thank God it was you and not Allison.”

We both laugh, and then he leans down and kisses me. I don’t think I have ever felt so good.

But the next morning when I wake up, I don’t feel good. I feel nervous, or anxious, and I skip breakfast so I won’t have to see Griffin. I hadn’t been with anyone since Sean, and while the experience with Griffin was about a million times better than anything I ever had with Sean, I can’t help but wonder how this is going to change things between us and I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with the idea of that.

Or maybe it meant nothing.

That, if I’m to be honest, is scarier than anything else, but of course I can’t admit that outside the confines of my own head. It’s been so long since I actually liked someone that I can’t quite believe it’s happening, or, if it is, it’s not going to last.

So, I drink a glass of water and head down to the barn. I feed the horses, and in the distance, I can hear some of the campers talking and laughing as they make their way to the lodge. I’m letting the horses out to pasture when Karen comes in and says good morning.

“Griffin was looking for you,” she says. “I told him I figured you’d be down here.”

“Here I am,” I say. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“No.”

“Well . . . if he comes down here, tell him you haven’t seen me, okay?”

She gives me a funny look. “Why?”

“Just—”

“You really should give him a break, you know. He’s not a bad guy. In fact, you want to know what I think?” She leans in toward me. “I think he likes you. Like, a lot more than Allison. Which kind of doesn’t make any sense, because you’ve been so mean to him. Is that the secret?”

“What? What secret? What are you talking about?”

“That if you want a guy to like you, you should be a giant . . . bitch to him.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I wave my hand. “Let’s just get to work, okay? And seriously, Karen, I’m the last person on earth you should be asking for advice in that department.”

We start mucking stalls. It’s monotonous, but the repetition is calming and if I focus on what I’m doing, there really isn’t much room for other thoughts to intrude. I take my wheelbarrow out back to dump, and on the way into the barn, I can hear Griffin talking to Karen.

“Is Jill here?” he’s saying. I stop and take a few steps backward, away from the barn door.

She stutters. “Um, Jill? No, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh. I figured she’d be down here. You need a hand, then? How many stall you have left to do?”

“Is there . . . is there a message you want me to relay to her?”

Nice, Karen, I think, and try not to roll my eyes.