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  “Yeah, baby, just there, just like that.” He gasped and then continued, “Fuck, baby, yeah, oh yeah.”

  How could she quiet him without disturbing his rhythm? “Kiss me,” she urged and tugged his head down to her lips. He obliged and intensified his thrusts at the same time. His cock felt amazing, plunging in and out, hitting every sweet spot along the way. She’d never had a man with a pierced cock before. It lifted good sex to fabulous sex and more than made up for his talking.

  All the same, Tami made sure to hold his head to ensure he kept his mouth on hers. He began to pump harder, and he grabbed the headboard with one hand, bracing himself while pounding into her. With just a tilt of her hips, a shift of one leg to give him a different angle, he pushed deeper. The sensations coiling deep in her belly began to tighten, electric sparks shooting up from her pussy. Another adjustment, and there, oh God, every stroke of Daniel’s cock now rubbed over her oh so sensitive clit. The sparks threatened to explode any minute, and she spiraled closer to her orgasm, forgetting for a moment about the noise. Daniel tunneled his free hand into her hair and angled her head. His mouth continued to devour hers, their tongues dancing, and all the while, Tami climbed higher. So close now, she ached with the need to come. Her breathing erratic, she dug her nails into Daniel’s back, slippery with perspiration, needing something to hold on to. She feared this climax would tear her apart.

  One final thrust sent her over the edge, and she clung to Daniel, moaning his name against his lips as spasms racked her body. He groaned his approval and continued to hammer into her, and she felt his muscles tense even further. It took a minute for her to come back to earth, to breathe again, and she realized there was a banging noise that hadn’t been there before. Daniel seemed oblivious, and she wondered for a horrified second if it was Lena complaining. It came from somewhere behind her head. What was it?

  She realized when Daniel renewed his frenzied fucking. The wooden headboard thumped against the wall with each thrust from Daniel’s hips. Rhythmic and solid, he jolted out the sound of their fucking. So much for keeping quiet.

  I’d been so starved of affection that I poured my heart and soul into Tami and Daniel, turning myself on at the same time. Just thinking about Daniel’s rippling muscles was enough to make my stomach clench, as well as other areas farther south. Even in his prime, Colin had never been the object of my lust. Teenage experimenting had led to teenage pregnancy with a musician from the school band. I’d always liked guitarists, their long, clever fingers and expressive hands. Colin had stepped into my life when Dylan was still a baby, when I felt most vulnerable and in need of a partner. I still thought about my sweet musician sometimes.

  While my writing had taken off this week, the housekeeping had been neglected, and to my dismay, there was no milk left for coffee. Not much food, either. Rather than driving to the village, I decided to go to the nearest general store, only fifteen minutes away if I walked up the beach.

  The sun was hot, and I tucked my hair under a floppy hat and headed out. Laden down with two plastic bags of groceries, it took longer to get back. The plastic cut into my hands, and I kept getting distracted by the shells that had been washed up with the tide. They seemed to vary daily, and today’s were flat, like large coins, but segmented as though ready to be divided into little slices. I dithered over the first few segments and then found a whole disc, and then another, larger one. They were perfect.

  With my bags even heavier now, I lifted my head at the sound of an approaching car. On the sand? I was momentarily confused, disoriented as though I’d woken sharply from a dream. The students’ car roared along the wet sand, splashing through the shallows toward me. Hollers and whoops accompanied it, and I felt a surge of annoyance. I’d been happy in my little world, and they were disturbing it. What idiots would drive through the sea anyway? Saltwater would wreck the paintwork, to say nothing of the engine.

  Feeling grown up and self-righteous, I straightened my back and hoisted my bags once more, ready to glare at them as they cruised past.

  Layla drove, Kari in the passenger seat, and for some reason, the tailgate was open. Turning to watch them pass, I realized why. Loner and Greg sat in the empty back, their legs dangling over the edge, with Greg holding a length of rope leading out to Surf Dude in the sea, careering along on a surfboard. They’d made an impromptu water ski through the shallows. Greg yelled insults at Surf Dude, he shouted back, and the two girls added their own level of noise. Loner watched everything, dark eyes crinkling in the corners, his lips tilted in that half smile.

  As I watched, unable to hold back a smile at the sight of their fun, Loner caught my eye. A frown creased his brow, and he stared directly at me once again. My mouth felt dry at the heat in his gaze. I’d been out in the sun too long...I just needed a cold drink.

  A little farther on, the car slowed to a halt, and Surf Dude jumped off his board with another rally of catcalls. Loner got out and strode toward me, the sun behind his face. I couldn’t interpret his expression. I clutched my bags tighter, feeling stupidly anxious at the intrusion. Meanwhile, the car set off again, Surf Dude resuming his wave dancing. A few steps away, Loner paused, his face impassive, and gestured toward my bags with his fingers.

  “Need help?” His voice was gruff, as though he didn’t use it much.

  My first instinct was to refuse, but common sense and good manners prevailed. Still, I hesitated a second before holding out the heavier of the two. “Thanks.” I tried a brief smile, something I didn’t do often these days, but when it sparked an answering lip tilt from him, it was worth it. We set off toward the cottages, our strides falling quickly into sync, probably because he slowed to match mine.

  He wore the same faded T-shirt as the day before, and up close, I figured it was the real deal. The seams had that slightly scruffy look of a shirt much washed. For whatever reason, he was taking his turn at community service this afternoon. Maybe they thought this would make me less grumpy about the noise levels. I sneaked a quick look at him as we walked and cataloged his appearance to remember later. Taller than me, lean but broad-shouldered like his friends. His long legs ate up the sand with ease. He swung the shopping bag gently from one hand, the plastic brushing against the leg of dark, faded jeans, his other hand loose.

  This was a great opportunity to get to know my neighbors. I cleared my throat and sought the right words, and he glanced across at me, his eyebrows lifting in a quizzical expression. “I’m Cass. I don’t know your name—any of your names?” I phrased it as a question.

  We continued walking another step, then another before he replied. “Jonah.”

  “Oh, right.” Should I ask again? I didn’t want to embarrass my helper into an unwanted conversation, and we were almost back at my cottage anyway. Unsure whether I should take the bag back while we were still on the sand, I reached toward him, but he ignored me and lugged it up the steps. I trailed behind. He placed my groceries carefully on the doorstep and turned to me, treating me to that lip tilt that I already recognized as a smile.

  “Thank you, Jonah. I appreciate your help.” He’ll be in a hurry to get back to his friends. I moved easily past him to open the door, but he hadn’t moved. “Would you, um, like a drink of water?” He’ll refuse. Duty had been done.

  “Please.”

  I thought I’d misheard him. I started to say good-bye and then realized my mistake when he followed me into the kitchen. Close up, he was a little older than I first thought. Crinkles in the corners of his mouth suggested he laughed a lot, but his deep brown eyes were the giveaway. They had seen more than a raw youth’s. There was a depth of maturity there that shocked me for a brief moment. I tried to cover my confusion by dragging tumblers from the glass cupboard and running the tap for cold water. While I occupied my hands and forced myself not to chatter like a silly girl, he began to unpack my shopping, lining up my groceries on the tabletop. Milk. Cheese. Eggs. Bacon. Bread.

  The shells had fallen to the bottom of the bag, an
d he laid those out carefully, examining them one at a time. His eyes finally lifted and scanned the kitchen, his gaze falling onto the assortment of shells that decorated the windowsill.

  “Thank you again.” I handed him the glass, unsure what to say. “I collect shells.” Jesus, could I come out with anything more lame? I hastened on, probably to make an even bigger idiot of myself. “I don’t know what these are, though. I’ve not seen this type of shell before. They don’t have them in England.” My voice trailed away. I’d never been great at conversations with strangers.

  “Sand dollars.” His eyes searched my face as though committing me to memory. He drained the water, handed me back the glass, and nodded, a little shy, I thought. There was the little hint of a smile, and then he turned and left.

  “Thank you,” I called, watching him stride across the sand, hands shoved in both pockets, going back to his friends.

  Chapter Four – Playing

  Day turned to evening, and darkness fell around me like a warm blanket as I sat outside on the deck. It was too hot and stuffy to think of working indoors. My neighbors were quiet, and I searched for them in the darkness, seeing them again on the sand, barbecue glowing at their feet. Faint strains of soft guitar music hung in the air, and I moved forward to lean on the rail, to listen more closely. I didn’t recognize the song, but the gentle melody fit my unsettled mood perfectly.

  A shadowy figure peeled away from the group and headed toward my cottage. I stood perfectly still, not wanting to be seen watching them. Was it Jonah? No, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair where the light spilled from my windows. Kari.

  “Excuse me,” she called. “We wondered if you’d like to join us? We’ve cooked way too much.”

  My first thought was to retreat, to politely refuse. Even after ten years of living in New Zealand, I still behaved like an English woman. Curiosity battled with anxiety and won this round. “Thank you,” I smiled, even though she probably couldn’t see it. “Let me bring some wine.” I knew I had some in the fridge, chilling for later.

  “Wine? Cool, thanks.” I expected her to leave, but she waited while I grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and a stack of plastic cups. She gave me a beaming smile. “I’m Kari.”

  I know. Surely Jonah had told them my name? Maybe not. “I’m Cass.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Is that short for something?”

  “Cassandra.” My ignorant ex calls me Sandra and I hate it.

  “Wow, that’s pretty. Come and meet the others.”

  Who would be the guitarist? I wasn’t surprised to find it was Jonah; his intensity reminded me of my lovely musician so many years ago. He cradled a battered and scuffed acoustic guitar and teased another haunting tune out of the strings. Kari busied herself with the introductions. “Greg, Rich, Layla, and Jonah.” They greeted me in turn, friendly hellos and little hand waves. All except Jonah. He hugged his instrument closer and hunched over the strings, ignoring me. I stared at him a moment longer, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “I’ve, uh, brought wine. Thanks for inviting me.”

  Greg sprawled on his back, and when Kari dropped to sit beside him, I settled down as well and opened the wine, then offered it round. They were surprisingly enthusiastic and accepted eagerly, all except Jonah again. He shook his head briefly and concentrated on his playing. I felt snubbed. He’d sought me out earlier and now wouldn’t even make eye contact. Was it a dare? A bet? Indignation welled up inside me, and my chest tightened. I’d finish my drink and make an excuse to leave. Kari offered me a tray of grilled sausages on sticks, and I shook my head, not quite trusting myself to speak.

  “My turn,” announced Layla.

  “Naw,” Greg’s voice was a lazy rumble from beside me. “Let our guest choose next. What d’ya fancy, Cass?”

  “Choose what?” Some weird drinking game?

  “A song.” Layla jerked her thumb at Jonah. “He can play almost anything.”

  Of course, my mind went blank. Everyone stared at me, expectant. Time dragged out until I blurted the first name I could think of, a band I knew Dylan loved. “Pearl Jam?”

  Jonah met my anxious stare with one of his tiny smiles and then ducked his head, fingers already sliding across the strings. I recognized the song, even though I couldn’t name it.

  “Good choice,” drawled Greg. I glanced at him, anxious in case he was making fun of me, but I was wrong. He tugged Kari onto his lap and nuzzled the back of her neck, humming along, slightly off key.

  Jonah played song after song until his fingers must surely have been aching, but he never complained. Never spoke. He took the occasional swig of water, but that was all. I was entranced. He played with a skill that made me wonder if he was a professional musician, one hand flying up and down the guitar neck, the other dancing across the strings. I could have watched him all night.

  Pearl Jam seemed a popular choice, but he didn’t falter no matter what was requested. He even managed a classical piano piece by Erik Satie, and I felt compelled to applaud. I must have embarrassed him because he stopped playing and walked away, leaving the guitar lying on the sand.

  Silence fell, and I covered my discomfort by examining my now-empty wineglass. “Is he okay?” I asked nobody in particular.

  “Yeah,” murmured Rich. “He’s just an antisocial bastard. You caught him on a good day.”

  “Rich.” Greg’s sleepy rumble held a warning note that I couldn’t interpret. It felt like my cue to leave.

  My cottage was only a few yards away, but I walked carefully across the sand, wary of tripping in the darkness. I kept thinking about Jonah. Had I upset him? I made it to my steps without incident and climbed up to the deck, turning to look out at the sea, the tide far out. A new moon hung in the sky in a narrow sliver of light, and if I looked carefully, the reflection gleamed in the flat, shallow water.

  “Cass.” Jonah’s voice startled me from my thoughts. I spun around to see him sitting on the deck, leaning against the kitchen wall, long legs stretched out. I froze. I felt like a Victorian maiden accosted in her bedroom.

  “Wh...what are you doing here?”

  He held out a fist in reply and slowly opened his fingers to show me something. I leaned closer, peering at his hand. A large, flat disc—a sand dollar—lay on his palm, and it was huge compared to the ones from earlier. I was transfixed.

  “Thank you.” I took the offered shell and examined it as best I could in the dim light. He scrambled to his feet and stood watching me, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Was he just shy? I made a split-second decision. “You played beautifully. Did I say something to offend you?”

  I expected him to duck his head, but he shrugged instead, his gaze intent on my face. “Is Cass short for Cassiopeia?” His delicious, gruff voice teased at me, awakening parts that had been asleep too long.

  “Cassandra.” I thought for a moment. “Cassiopeia, the constellation, isn’t visible here in New Zealand.”

  His lips quirked in a now-familiar half smile. “ No. It’s beautiful, though. Like you.”

  How could I respond? My cheeks heated at his words. “I don’t know what to say,” I murmured. He can’t mean it. It’s just a line.

  Even so, I didn’t want to tell him to leave. The idea of stealing a few forbidden moments with this quiet, young man was intoxicating. I fell back into housewife mode. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Water, please.” Still holding the sand dollar, I went into the kitchen to fetch his drink. I half expected him to follow me, but he didn’t. Pouring myself some more wine was too tempting to resist, and besides, it would make the conversation flow easier, for me at least.

  “Here you are.” He took the glass, thanked me, and sat again. “Would you like to come in?”

  “You can see the stars from here.” I followed his gaze. Myriad glowing sparkles lit the sky, too many to ever identify.

  Throwing caution to the winds, I dropped to sit on the deck a few feet away. I took a generous slug
of wine before I spoke. “The night sky never fails to take my breath away. It’s completely different from where I used to live in England.”

  “Have you been here long? In New Zealand?”

  I wondered again why he’d ignored me earlier but wanted to talk now. I replied carefully. “Just over ten years. I married a Kiwi who wanted to take me home with him.” Jonah cocked his head at me in an unspoken question. “He traded me in for a younger model. We’re divorced now.” It was almost true. The papers wouldn’t be finalized for a few months, but the marriage had been over for years.

  “I’m sorry.” Jonah sounded as though he meant it, and I shrugged, keen to shake off the dismal mood that had fallen.

  “Don’t be, I’m glad now.” I took a deep breath. Dare I say it? “If I was still married, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

  “Any children?”

  “One, a son. Dylan.” My minuscule, beachside romance was about to be snuffed out before it had even started. “He’s about your age.”

  Jonah snorted into his glass. “I’m twenty-four. You don’t look old enough.”

  I smiled into my wine. “Thanks. I’m still ten years older than you. I had Dylan when I was sixteen, and I met Colin, my ex, later. You remind me of Dylan’s real father. He was a guitarist, too.” Why was I prattling on? Scare him away Cass, why don’t you?

  Jonah stared into his glass. “I’m not, anymore.” His voice was so low, I struggled to hear him. “I’m not anything now.” He took a deep breath and pushed himself to a standing position. “I should go.”

  There was something I had to know, and the wine had made me bold enough to ask. “Why did you ignore me tonight? I didn’t mean to intrude. Your friends invited me.”