Page 34 of Hearts Adrift (A Texas Beach Town Romance #4)

“—falls,” he finishes, peering into my eyes.

“I don’t want you to go,” I blurt out.

His face twists. “What?”

Then my grip on him slips.

I adjust my footing to keep a good hold on him, then lose my own footing, too.

I guess we were closer down to the water than either of us realized, because after the most serendipitously painless tumble a few feet off the slippery rocks, River and I crash into the water like it was there to gracefully catch our falls the whole time.

I burst out of the water with a gasp. River, too, beads of water flying from his hair like gems in the sunset as he searches for my eyes through the haze.

“What the fuck just happened?” he shouts with a laugh.

“I don’t want you to go,” I cry out over the water.

“Finn!” He comes close to me, gripping my body, legs kicking under the water. “Who said anything about going?”

“As soon as they replace the director. That could be in a few days.”

“Or a few months,” he says.

“And where will that leave me? … Or us?” I definitely sound like a frantic lover now, clinging to the scraps of whatever I can salvage of this fleeting connection.

This is me at my least attractive. Max-level desperation.

“I swore I could be okay with anything. I told myself to be happy for you. But the truth is, I’d lose my mind wondering what we could’ve been if we’d just had more time together.

What if I’m what your life’s been missing?

What if you’re the real deal and I just …

just let you go back to your life in LA? ”

“Finn …”

“I can’t do that, River. I can’t let you go.”

“Finn!”

“I’ve already let go of so much in my life. I have to fight for you. I have to fight for you to stay . I have to—”

He shuts me the hell up with a kiss.

The gentlest kiss that has ever shut me up at full rage.

It’s unsettling, actually, how fast River is able to take control of my rollercoaster and steer it right back onto the tracks with just the softest touch of his lips to mine.

In our ears, the shattering of our breaths compete with the sea.

All I know anymore is the feeling of his mouth as his firm lips entwine with mine, breaking apart my anxieties, replacing them with the insatiable yearning for more of what he’s so generously giving me.

I fucking love the way he kisses. It’s so sensual, yet so commanding. I’m completely at his whim. He tilts his face one way, and I oblige him. He tilts his face the other, and my lips are caught by surprise again and again.

Our hips have found each other under the water.

His cock grinding against mine. Hands settling at the small of our backs, as if to encourage the less-than-gentle reunion of our bodies.

Insurmountable pressure is building up so fast beneath our waists, it’s a wonder we can pay attention to anything else at all, let alone the soft touch of his lips.

Maybe that’s just a testament to how damned effective of a kisser he is.

And how much of a sucker I am for those kisses.

“Guess I forgot to mention,” he says between breaths we take as our lips refuse to stop kissing, “a little idea I had,” and kissing, and kissing, and kissing, “that I need to talk to your dad about …”

“What …” I breathe between kisses. I swear I’m trying to pull away enough to have an actual conversation, but I’m addicted to the way his lips feel on mine. “… idea?”

“I plan … on ending … my rental agreement.”

He’s gotta drop this on me right now in the middle of our kissing and make me cry? “What the … fuck?” I moan against his lips. “Already …? I thought—”

“… because I plan to make your dad … a really great offer … to buy it,” he finishes.

That ends the kissing at once.

I stare at him, blinking. “You’re … what?”

His lips spread into a dashing, proud-of-himself smile. “Whenever I’m not off somewhere filming, I’ll need some nice place to stay, won’t I? LA was never my vibe. I think I’ve grown attached to the bungalow. Someone convinced me once it’s a special place I should learn to respect more.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Isn’t this a bit fast?”

“River Fast-And-Reckless Wolfe, that’s what they call me. Actually, no one calls me that. I made it up.”

“You’re moving here?”

“Did you know I’m originally from Texas?”

“What? No.”

“You didn’t read my bio? Seriously, this information is out there, free for anyone. It’s why my bestie Anya lives in Austin. Put the puzzle pieces together, Finn!”

“But people know you’re here. Aren’t you a bit afraid the location of the bungalow is … tainted …?”

“Some know, some don’t. Something I learned real fast in this business: people bore fast. Bet you I’ll be old news by the morning, if not already.”

“River …”

“And if I didn’t buy the bungalow? Then randos would start staying in it just for the novelty that I once hid there.

Or for its alleged ‘cursed history’, which I’ve confirmed is total bull , by the way, now that I have had the pleasure of staying there.

No evil spirits lurk under those floorboards. ”

“It’s the sea,” I explain distractedly. “Like putting your ear to a shell … o-or something. Are you seriously buying the Breezy Bungalow?”

“Look into my eyes. Remember the Acting 101 lesson I gave you? What do you see?”

I peer into his eyes which shimmer against the burning color of the sunset and the glint off the water.

There’s something new in his eyes I’m not sure I’ve seen before. They’re unguarded. Unbound. Free. Almost boyish in their honesty.

The eyes never lie.

His are begging me to give in to him.

Then it’s me silencing myself with my own lips against his, giving in to the chaos. I guess I have a problem with overthinking. Worrying and clinging to my circumstances and madly attempting to control the world around me.

Instead of just letting things happen. The way ocean waves happen. And weather. And sand rearranging itself forever on every beach in the world. And Hollywood actors I’m falling for, moving in down the street from me.

We’re wet from head to toe when we arrive at the back door of the bungalow—our lips still attached, kissing each other without relent—when we find the door to be locked. I ask, out of breath, “Got the key?” River pats his pockets, then says, “No. Anya must’ve locked up before she left.”

I give the door half a second of consideration—then elbow the pane of glass right out of the window, sending it falling like it was never fixed. I reach in, unlock the door, and River and I are inside.

The kitchen takes our shoes. The living room, both of our shirts. The hallway, our shorts and underwear.

The shower wall takes his back as I press him to it.

Then we flip around, and it’s my back against the wall, as I let go every last fear and reservation inside me, letting him kiss down my body like it’s his first time exploring it.

The hot shower pours over us, washing away every shred of our worries, massaging our nerves out of their tension-tortured states, bringing us back to ourselves.

And when River’s tongue finds my nipple, I realize I will never again be able to resist him, now that he’s learned without a doubt my weakness.

I’m so fucked.

And I love it .

Being naked causes me to feel a thousand times more vulnerable to him, with every body part exposed to him.

He continues his sensual yet commanding control over me as I enjoy the grazing of his fingertips over my body while his tongue tortures me.

Will he caress my hips? Grip my ass? Stroke my cock to the point of oblivion, only to ease back just enough to stop me and drive my mind even crazier?

“Imagine if we do this every day,” he whispers in my ear when his lips return to my face.

He’s rubbing my cock up and down with perfect finesse, keeping me worked up just enough without allowing me to spill over, my body still pressed to the wall.

“You and me. Skipping around the isle. Dropping in here for some sexy times. Then cozying up in the evenings with each other.”

“Or just doing the sexy times all night long,” I breathe out, my mind teetering somewhere on the border between insanity and total bliss as he continues to tease my cock.

“Oh, trust me … once you get a little taste of me inside you, you’ll be thankful for that cozy time afterwards.”

And then he goes and says things like that.

I’m fucking done for .

That’s the thought I have when I find my face pressed to the pillow—and River’s buried between my cheeks once again.

I could fuck a hole through this bed with my boner right now, the way that man drills me with his tongue after our shower.

The sensation is almost so much that I want to close my legs, but he keeps them firmly apart, wetting me with his tongue, forcing me to endure the overwhelming pleasure it’s causing.

Is this another actor thing I’m coming to discover?

Actors and their skillful, talented tongues? Is this a thing?

I’ll presume it’s a thing while my fingers claw the bed sheets uncontrollably and my toes curl.

I might be taking a page from River’s book of phrasing things a touch too poetically, but when he puts a condom on and lubes up, then slides inside me, it’s like the perfect key fitting inside a lock where it always belonged.

And the limitless feeling of satisfaction it unlocks.

The utter feeling of completeness. How our bodies unite with such passion that I literally wonder if I’ve ever truly had sex before.

If this isn’t, in a way, my actual first time.

I never considered how differently it would feel with a person like River, with whom I feel so securely attached.

Someone like River, who is as reliable as the sea, in how he rushes forward when I need him and pulls back at just the right moment.

When he fits himself all the way inside me.

When he lays atop my back, enfolding me in his arms, cherishing me, as he rocks his hips against my body.

When his lips brush over my ear, whispering, “Your ass feels so good around my dick, Finn, I don’t ever want to slide out. I just want to live here inside you.”

How even words like that can sound like poetry.

Coming from the right set of lips.

With every thrust, my own cock is driven deeper into the smooth, soft, slippery bed sheets, stroking it closer and closer to the edge, yet barely not enough to spill over. It’s a beautiful insanity he’s captured me in. I’d happily endure this torment for hours.

I just want to live here inside you …

It’s incredible that we last as long as we do.

For two men who’ve craved each other all this time, I would have expected us to explode the moment we had the chance.

But River is a patient man. And I’m a strong guy able to take as much as he gives.

And whether we go on for half an hour, a whole hour, or the rest of the damned night, I fully plan on cherishing any length of time I have with River.

The climax comes like waves shattering against rocks.

Even long after it happens, it still feels like he’s inside me, as we lie on the bed, cradled in each other’s arms, his contented gaze pouring into mine. I think I never allowed myself to believe it could be possible for this to work.

The longer I’m lost in his eyes, I think I’m starting to.