Jane Lark - I Need You

“What do you want to do?”

Her arms had crossed since she’d handed me the cell, and now she shrugged.

“We can go down to the beach and lie in the sun, or go down to the pool and swim…”

“I liked the beach yesterday. Let’s go back down to the beach.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to give me time to shower.”

“Are you going back up to your room?”

“Yeah, I need clean clothes as well as a shower, unless you want a companion who stinks.”

She smiled with a sudden look of warmth catching in her eyes, the Lindy of happiness and high school shining through; the one who had somehow got lost in the last couple of years.

I stood up, wiping my face with my tee again. Then met her gaze.

“So did you?”

That question had been tumbling around in my head for an hour and more. Asking it kicked me in the belly and sent a jolt of lust to my cock.

I’d been exercising with an uncomfortable condition, thinking about her––up in her room… Imagining. I shook my head, I probably shouldn’t have asked.

She didn’t answer anyway.

She turned away, acting like I hadn’t asked the question, but as she did, her skin turned red.

I’d lay a bet she had. And that made my condition worse; blood pulsed into my cock.

But she could just be embarrassed I’d mentioned it. That would be like Lindy too.

My fingers combed through my hair. Then I caught my image in the mirror and ruffled my hair so it spiked again.

A part of me wondered if I’d brought her here not to make amends but to try and win her. Maybe I had been kidding myself that I was able to just let her go at last.

Whatever, I was still turned on, even though she wasn’t turned on by me. Well that was the suicide sentence I’d been living for years––watching her with Jason.

I followed her upstairs, but she didn’t talk until she got to her room. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.” I nodded at her before going into mine.

I sorted myself out in the shower, jerking off as the water streamed over me, and ah, shit, the images playing through my head were her, lying on her bed and doing the same, holding my cell.

When I got dressed, I pulled my cut-offs on over my swim shorts, rubbed my hair with a towel to dry it a little, then slicked it up with styling wax, before pulling on a dark-blue tee. I locked my cell and wallet in the room safe, grabbed a zip sweat top and threw it on as I left the room.

When I knocked Lindy’s door, it opened straight away. “You took your time.”

I grinned at her, heat burning in my cheeks. My turn to be embarrassed. “You ready?”

She blushed too then. “Yeah, I’ll get my backpack.”

This was gonna be one long day of awkward. My hands slid into the front pockets of my cut-offs. I had a rolled blanket under my arm that I’d got out of the SUV for us to sit on.

We didn’t talk walking down to the beach. My brain couldn’t come up with any right stuff to say and she didn’t have anything to say. But then there was the whole choosing where we sat: dry sand that was uneven, or on the flat wet sand. The breeze rolled in with the ocean whipping up a mini sandstorm.

We picked dry sand.

“I’ve got more blankets in the SUV and tent poles. Why don’t I make a den? We can pen ourselves in, out of the breeze, if we’re gonna sit.”

“Okay.”

I handed her the blanket. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She was standing in the same place when I got back. Just staring out at the ocean, looking uncomfortable.

“I’m cold.” She looked at me, hugging the blanket to her chest.

“It’ll be warm inside our den. It’s like a cocoon.” When I smiled, she smiled back at me. “Go on, throw the blanket out and I’ll build the den around you.”

I positioned the tent poles in a square around the blanket she sat on and taped four blankets on them, with duct tape, making a little wall around us that would keep the breeze and sand out. I’d been to California once, with my family, years ago, beaches were warm there… Not here…

She laughed at me, “You’re crazy. Have you done this before?”

“Not four-sided, but yes I’ve built them before for myself if the wind’s whipping sand at you.”

“Did you and Jason build dens when you were kids?”

I smiled at her as I taped the last blanket up. “Yeah.”

She laughed again.

There were only a few people about on the beach. Some flying kites and playing ball.

Climbing into our new den, I grinned as I dropped to sit on the blanket next to her.

She slid her backpack off her shoulder. Then her knees bent up as she leaned forward and gripped her ankles. “You’re right, it’s warm down here out of the breeze.”

“I’m always right.”

She glanced at me, turned pink and then looked away.

I undid the button on my fly.

Lind caught the movement and blushed again …

Yep, today was going to be a whole ton of awkward.

I smiled to dismiss her insecurity as I stood up to unzip my cut-offs. When I let them drop, she looked away.

“If I’m here to get some sun, I’m getting some sun.” I stripped off my sweat top.

She looked at me again. “It’s still cold, even in here.”

“Don’t be feeble.” I gripped the hem of my tee and pulled it up and off.

She was bright red as she turned to her backpack and started delving in it.

I lay down on my belly next to her.

“Do you want screen.” She held out a tube of sun screen.

“Trust you to come with protection.”

Another blush.

She so had.

Shit, my cock twitched, right at the moment her cold hand touched my back.

She hadn’t waited on my agreement. But I wasn’t complaining. Her touch was gentle and careful.

When she’d finished, she threw the screen on top of her backpack and lay down next to me, still fully clothed.

I turned my head to look at her, resting my cheek on my crossed arms. She was on her back and she’d shut her eyes. “Aren’t you gonna strip down to your bikini?”

Her head turned. “No, it’s cold, and I don’t like to strip off.”

“You’re weird. Nearly every girl I know would freeze to get a tan.”

“Yeah, well I’m not every girl .”

Yeah, I did know that, but she was weird sometimes. “Get your shorts off, get your top off, and get some sun on your skin. It’ll make you feel better.”

She rolled onto her belly, mirroring my posture, with her arms folded and her cheek on the back of her hands as she looked at me. “No.”

I frowned at her. “Come on, take your stuff off.”

“No, I really don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Billy, don’t push me.”

“No, the more you refuse, the more you make me think there’s something wrong. What’s wrong with taking your stuff off.”

“I hate my stomach!” she growled at me, rolling onto her back and then sitting up.

Frick. I laughed.

The flat of her fist hit my shoulder.

“I thought we’d covered stopping the violence last night…”

She poked her tongue out at me, but there really was anger in her eyes.

I turned my head to rest my forehead on my crossed arms. “Lind, your stomach is fine.”

“I don’t feel comfortable.” Her pitch rang with annoyance.

I looked at her again. There was nothing wrong with her! “Lind. Take your fucking stuff off. You’ve got a gorgeous body.” Perhaps I shouldn’t be admitting I thought that, but whatever. “Just take it off. You look thinner than 90 percent of the women in this town!”

“Billy!” That was a reprimand to keep my voice down.

“Just take your stuff off and lie down!”

She’d turned bright red and my guess was it was through anger as much as embarrassment. Glaring at me she gripped the hem of her sweat top, and as it turned out her sleeveless tee, ‘cause when she pulled it up, she pulled both off and threw them on top of my head. So I couldn’t see her.