One minute you're at the top of your game, and the next, you receive a hit that knocks your skates out from underneath you.
Still reeling after an unexpected loss, Ryan Nyberg not only finds himself back in his beachside hometown of Neptune Bay, bu...
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The firework display was gorgeous, lighting up the darkened sky with pops of colour in patterns and bursts that made the crowd cheer, but it couldn't compare to the buzz of attraction that bounced between Ryan and I. We sat cuddled together in the sand—my back to his chest, cradled between his thighs—and throughout the entire show, while my eyes were looking up, my mind was in tune with the soft caresses of Ryan's hands as they moved along my sides, hips, and legs. Feeding the flames of desire that were growing inside my chest.
And finally, when things came to an end and everyone on the beach began to disperse, I felt Ryan scoot backwards and stand.
"You ready to head out?" he asked, and I glanced up to see him offering me a hand. Ryan's parents had taken Bowen home with him in the middle of the show—the exhaustion of the day having finally caught up with him—leaving the two of us alone. Or alone as we could be with the majority of the town and several hundred tourists on the beach with us.
"Sure," I replied, accepting the help up. I took a moment to brush the sand off my dress with my free hand, and when I turned back to face him, I boldly asked, "Do you want to come back to mine?"
A gleam of heat flashed in his eyes as they bore into mine, but when his response wasn't immediate, a seed of doubt crept into my head. Had I been too forward? Was sex not on the menu tonight? Had I misread something? I felt a flush color my neck and was about to take back my question when Ryan moved even closer to me.
"Are you sure?"
I bit my bottom lip, hoping the move was as sexy as I imagined it to be. "Completely."
"Well, then—" His gaze dropped down the length of my body, taking me in as though he could see what was underneath my dress. "—lead the way."
I didn't let my hand drop from his on the walk back to my house, enjoying the feel of our palms intertwined, and while we didn't talk much, the tension between us grew to a tangible level. As though, if I tried, I could reach out and capture it. The hum of passion and crackle of lust.
When we finally reached my place, I clambered up the steps ahead of him, unlocking the door and pushing it open.
"Did you want something to drink?" I asked, ushering him in past me.
Once I shut the door, I turned to face him and saw the corners of his mouth draw upward. His gaze fell to my mouth as he said, "Not particularly."
"Good," I said, taking a few steps toward him to close the distance between us, "me neither."
And then we were kissing.
There was no softness to the kiss—at least not at first. Just hunger and desperation as our lips moved fiercely against one another. My fingers curled tightly into the front of his shirt and while one of his hands cupped my neck, tilting it in such a way that let his tongue delve deep and dance along my own, his other hand drifted quickly to my ass to haul my body right up against his.
