Summer at the Sea

Rose stared out at the sea stretching for miles in front of her. She closed her eyes as the warm, summer breeze wafted through her hair.

"Lemonade," a voice said from behind her. She opened her eyes and happily took the tall glass of lemonade from Paul.

"Thank you," she said graciously as he sank into a seated position next to her on the small pier.

"You're beautiful," he said softly, "have I told you that already?"

"Several times," she replied. "Thank you." She set her lemonade down and wrapped her red kerchief around her head, securing her hair from the Atlantic breeze. She then pulled off her shoes and set them next to her on the dock and let her feet dangle over the edge, precariously close to the lapping water.

"I have some bad news," Paul said suddenly, his voice lowering.

"Oh?" Rose asked, turning her attention fully towards him. She wasn't crazy about receiving bad news lately -- not that there had been a lot of it thrown at her. However, it had been nearly a week since the party and she hadn't seen or heard a single thing from James. Her feelings were conflicted -- she didn't know whether she should feel angry, sad or relieved. Mostly, she was angry and hurt. He had promised her the night of the Fourth that he would come back for her, but he had let her fall asleep in a closet -- a closet! -- and like a puff of smoke, he was gone from her life once again. Paul helped her avoid an embarrassing situation at home and in front of family friends, she felt like she owed him something. Although her lips remained sealed as to the reason she had been leaving the party alone at six in the morning on the fifth of July, he hadn't pressed her for any details and assumed the best. The past couple of days she was actually starting to grow fond of him and with no persistence at all, she had agreed to let him take her into town for a date.

"I have to go back to the city for a week or so," he said. "I'll be cooped up there for a while." He delivered the news as if he was leaving the country.

Rose smiled, relieved, "That's not bad news."

"I don't want to miss a second with you," he said, taking her hand into his. She smiled weakly. He was so sweet, but he was missing something that she couldn't even begin to put her finger on. He simply didn't make her feel the same way that James did when she was with him and she desperately wished that he did.

"A week is hardly a long time," she said.

"But you're so beautiful and you go to so many parties," he worried, "if I'm not around, who knows who might snatch you up?"

She smiled earnestly this time, knowing that there was only one other man who he could possibly be worried about -- a man who arrived at the most inopportune times and disappeared as mysteriously as he had come.

"I'll fend them off," she whispered. She leaned in close to Paul and kissed him softly on the cheek. She lingered for a moment, hoping he would aggressively turn his lips towards hers and kiss her for real, but he remained still.

"You aren't like most girls," he said thoughtfully after she had pulled away.

"My curse to bear," she muttered under her breath. She turned her gaze to the horizon once again and the two of them sat silently for a few moments. She sighed, feeling frustrated by Paul's lack of forwardness, and decided to make her move. Slowly, she moved her hand across the dock and gently rest her hand against his thigh. She could feel his eyes on her before she even glanced over in his direction. Slowly, she moved her hand further up his leg until her hand was nearly grazing the crease his pants made from sitting.

"Rose," he said, slowly and in a hushed voice. She turned to him quickly, a devilish smile on her face and she pressed her finger against his lips.

"Go with it," she said as she leaned in and kissed him aggressively, the way she wished he would kiss her. She could tell he was startled by her actions and he was nothing like James when it came to kissing -- he reminded her of all the boys she had kissed in the past, inexperienced and uncertain.

"There might be..." he managed to say before Rose nibbled at his bottom lip, quieting him, "...people!"

She pulled away, she wanted to kiss him again, but the frantic look in his eyes told her not to. She sighed with resignation and turned back towards the ocean.

**

Rose furrowed her brow before opening her eyes. Something or someone was blocking the sun and she did not appreciate it. Thinking it was her little brother, Robert, she swung her hand in the direction of the shadow and was startled into opening her eyes when her arm hit a strong, muscular body instead of her little brother's small and twiggy frame.

"Long time no see," James said, smiling as he took a seat next to Rose.

Her eyes grew wide and she bit her tongue before she had the chance to curse at him. Instead she asked, "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry about the Fourth of July," he said in a hushed voice, carefully eyeing the gardener not too far away. "I was pulled away by my friend's wife and they closed off the top floor where you were in the bedroom and I had to leave for the city first thing the next morning..."

"Did you forget about me?" Rose balked.

"No!" James exclaimed. "I thought about you all night, but I couldn't get back up to the bedroom and..."

"I slept in that closet all night!" she hissed. "I waited for you and I had to catch a ride home with Paul! Which wasn't awkward at all..."

"That boy you were dancing with?" he asked, and Rose could have sworn that she caught a tone of jealousy in his voice.

"Yes, the boy that I was dancing with who doesn't forget me in a closet and who doesn't disappear for a week!"

"I'm sorry!" he persisted. "I was just..."

"You couldn't send me a note? Nothing?" she stood up, angrily and grabbed her towel from the chair she'd been reclined in.

"Rose," he said, "hear me out."

"No," she said quickly. Then without thinking, "I'm with Paul. I've chosen Paul. You can go back to your small estate and be lonely now. I'm through with this." And with that, she ran back up to her family's house and retreated to her bedroom.

**

There was a quiet knock on James' door, so quiet that he wouldn't have even heard it had he not been sitting in the next room reading. He went to open the door and was more than a little surprised when he opened the door to see a wet Rose standing on his doorstep. He looked around, briefly wondered when it had started raining and quickly pulled Rose inside.

"Sorry," she muttered, "can I get a towel?"

"When did it start raining?" he asked, turning for the bathroom off his living room.

"Just after I left," she replied.

He quickly returned to the foyer, towel in hand and gave it to Rose. She thanked him and began rubbing down her arms and clothes. James took in the sight of her standing there. Her hair was a mess, her wet curls giving her the appearance that someone had just thrown a bucket of water in her face. Her fingers were red from the cold of the rain and her flowered sundress hung limp around her legs.

"You need to change," he said without thinking twice. A small pool of water was forming around her feet and she looked up at him with the saddest look he could remember ever seeing.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her lower lip trembling, a precursor to the tears that would follow seconds later.

James quickly closed the gap between the two of them and enveloped Rose in his arms. She cried silently against his chest but refused to wrap her arms around him.

"It's my fault," he said quietly, running his hand through her wet hair. "I know I should have come to get you, I know I should have spoken to you before this morning..." He pushed on her shoulders to get a good look at her. He smiled weakly and she returned the same, weak smile. He kissed her once on the forehead, then the tip of her nose and finally he softly pressed his lips against hers.

"I don't want to love you," she said meekly.

He smiled, "That would certainly make things easier, wouldn't it?" She bit her lip and nodded. "Come on, you'll get sick if you leave that wet dress on."

He led her upstairs to his room and immediately went to his drawers to procure something for her to wear in place of the dress she'd come in.

"I don't want to be a bother," she said, still standing in the open doorway.

"You're no bother," he said as he pulled a pair of pajama bottoms from the top drawer.

"I really just came to say that I was sorry," she insisted, even though she was already slipping herself out of her wet shoes.

"At least stay to warm up," he said as he rooted deeper in the drawer. "You must be hungry, too, have you eaten?"

She shook her head 'no', even though he wasn't looking in her direction, "My mother went out. Father went to the city for a couple of days. Robert and I were on our own."

"So what is Robert doing?" he asked, briefly wondering how their conversation had quickly turned so mundane.

"He's at a friend's," she replied. "I guess."

James pulled a cotton shirt from another drawer and folded it on top of the pajama pants.

"Come in," he said, beckoning Rose into the room. She met him in the middle of the room and took the dry clothes from him and quickly averted her gaze from him. "What will happen when your mother arrives home and you're not there?"

Rose shrugged, "She'll assume I'm out." She met his gaze again, "Which I am."

He nodded and turned his attention to her hair again. It was drying somewhat, making her appear even more disheveled -- not that it bothered him.

"Do you want a bath?" he asked, nodding to his adjoined bathroom.

"I..." she stammered at first. "Sure."

**

There was a knock on the door and she wasn't sure why it startled her so much, but it did. She skillfully maneuvered bubbles around her breasts and sunk into the bath water before giving him the go-ahead to come in.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" James asked coyly, sticking his head in through the door. Rose smiled and nodded. He could deny it all he wanted when he pictured her as a sexual creature, but looking at her smiling in the bathtub, he couldn't deny how young she really was. She had been in the bath for a long time, her skin was glowing and her face was framed in bubbles from the bath. He took a step into the bathroom and studied his own reflection in the mirror. He was an attractive man for forty, but he couldn't ignore the tired look in his eyes or the crows feet that framed them and every morning he woke up, he swore that he spotted a new silvery hair on the top of his head.

Rose shifted and folded her arms over the edge of the bathtub, resting her chin against the cool porcelain that encircled her. She admired his appearance just as much as he had admired hers. Though his back was to her, she could see the definition of his muscled shoulders and buttocks through his clothing. He moved just so and she caught a glimpse of his visage in the mirror. She admired his square jaw and the stubbled shadow that spread from cheek to cheek. She caught his eyes with her own and felt a warm jolt run through her entire body.

"It's not polite to stare," he teased, his back still facing towards her.

"I could say the same to you," she shot back at him. She retreated to her previous, reclined position in the tub and as she did so, he caught a glimpse of her breasts. He quickly wondered if he had enough self control to keep her from noticing his erection.

"The water's still warm," she said, swirling her hands around on the surface. If she was making any attempt to hide her nudity, she was failing miserably now.

"No one likes a cold bath," he argued.

"Do you..." she cocked her head slightly. "You care to join me?"

He practically felt the color drain from his face. He nodded dumbly before saying, "Are you sure?"

This time she nodded and gestured him over to the tub with the curling of her finger.

"I..." he stuttered. "Yes."

"Come on," she nodded him over and he stumbled over to the tub as if he was attached to an invisible rope attached to her finger.

He slipped out of his socks first and hung them over a nearby rack. Next, he unbuckled his belt and discarded it on the floor. Rose smiled and pulled herself into a standing position and grabbed his hand. His head quickly turned to her and this time he felt himself blush. He tried not to stare at her body, but he couldn't help himself. Her breasts were perfect, round and her nipples were dark pink and erect from the cool air in the room. He traced the curve of her waist and hips with his eyes and quickly scanned over the dark triangle of hair between her legs.

"Rose Owen..." he breathed, "you are...you're going to destroy me." She balanced herself on his shoulders and placed a firm but chaste kiss on his lips before her fingers nimbly moved to his shirt. She quickly undid each of the buttons on his shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders. He shimmied his way out of it and kicked it aside across the bathroom floor. She smiled and traced her finger down the sparse line of hair on his chest, down to his navel and stopped at the button on his pants. She grinned, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to expect. She met his gaze and he gently pushed down on her shoulders, signaling her to get back into the warm water of the tub. Somewhat reluctantly, she lowered herself down into the water and he turned his back to her.

He didn't know why he felt somewhat embarrassed. He had done this so many times in the past, so many different women. He deftly undid his pants and slid them down his legs and kicked them aside with his shirt. He swore he heard Rose giggle, very slightly, from behind him. He wasn't sure what the reason was, but he inwardly thanked the gesture because it allowed his erection to subside slightly.

"Move forward a bit," he directed. He looked over his shoulder and she eagerly moved forward in the tub, giving him room to join her. He turned and slowly, carefully, he lowered himself into the warm water behind her.

She laughed softly once more and once he was fully in the bathtub with her, she closed in on the space between the two of them. She slipped between his legs and reclined against his chest. She felt his arousal firm against her tailbone, but thought nothing of it as his arms enveloped her and he rest his hands against her stomach.

"When was the last time you were in the bath with a man?" he teased. She tilted her head back to his shoulder and rest there for a moment before turning her face to his neck.

"Never," she whispered, her lips brushing up against his neck with each syllable. He turned his head slightly, as much as he could with her head on his shoulder and brushed his lips against her eyelids, an ear, her cheek and the corner of her mouth. He slid his hand up over her stomach, cupped her breast gently and curled his fingers around her silky, wet hair.

She kissed and gently nibbled at his neck, his collarbone, his ear. With each little gesture, she felt his cock respond against her back. If she bit his neck a little too hard he inhaled or exhaled sharply and when she flicked her tongue against his earlobe, she swore she heard him groan a little.

"Why do you love me?" he asked softly. She sat forward, turned her head over her shoulder and gave him a puzzled look.

"Who said anything about love?" she asked.

"You did," he replied. "Earlier."

She smiled and turned in the water. Her hips and legs bobbed to the surface and she pulled herself chest-to-chest with James and kissed him on the lips, teased him a little with the tip of her tongue and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "You're experienced."

"I'm sure there are plenty more experienced men out in the world," he said with a smile.

"You're devastatingly handsome," she said, tracing her finger along his jaw.

"Again," he said, "many men fit that description."

"You make me feel..." she stopped and thought for a moment. "Indescribable."

"Even though I can be a total jackass," he said.

"Especially because you can be a total jackass," she said. "And although it fits in with everything I've just said, you're an incredible lover."

"We haven't even made love," he said.

"No..." she said thoughtfully. "But I imagine you will be." At this, she kissed him again, but instead of wrapping her hands around his neck and lacing her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, she reached down between the two of them and gingerly wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her teeth biting into his lips, he groaned earnestly this time. It startled Rose and she removed her hand and pulled away from the kiss.

"No, no," he sighed, pulling her into him again. "It was good." She tentatively put her hand against the top of his thigh. "It was good."

Slowly, but surely, she wrapped her hand around his cock again and nervously tightened her grip. He furrowed his brow and bit his bottom lip. It was such a small gesture, anyone else and he would have been demanding more, but for her, he was willing to go as slow as she needed.

She giggled nervously and unwrapped her hand again, "I'm sorry. I don't...what do I do?"

He sighed and cupped her hand in his own and wrapped her hand around him once more, "Don't be afraid of it." She smiled and tightened her grip a little, he tightened his own grip around her hand, forcing her to squeeze a little harder. "Now move your hand up and down." He guided her hand with his own until she was making quick, fluid motions on her own. He pulled his hand away and let her work alone. He leaned back against the porcelain and savored every sensation of her hand. He held her breasts against his hands and when she made a move that he especially loved, he gently pinched at her nipples. She twisted and writhed against his legs with each touch. If he pinched hard enough, her hips bucked towards his and she moaned softly as her pelvis brushed against his.

It was extremely rare that he was able to get off from the touch of a hand alone. It had happened in the past, but it was normally reserved to occasions where he rubbed one out himself or was with an exceptionally skilled masseuse. In hardly any time at all though, he started to feel the familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach and he knew that it wouldn't be long. He wondered if he should stop her, save his release for her mouth, or better yet, her pussy. Before he could take the thought any further though, his climax surged through his entire body and he came without any effort at all with a loud, guttural moan.

Rose stopped immediately and the space between them widened.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said quickly.

He laughed without thinking twice and shook his head, "No, no, don't be."

"I..." she stopped. "Is that supposed to happen?"

He splashed some water over his face and nodded, "Absolutely."