It’s been just over a month but I think I’m in love with him.

Fuck. Me. This shouldn’t be happening so soon. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I’m hot and wet in an instant and ready to throw him down in the sand. Actually, who cares what “should” be. I’ve never been one for rules anyway. We tangle closer together, stumbling over the sun-warped wooden boards until we get to the cabin. I rummage through my purse for the key.

We strip out of the little clothes we have on. I yank down Ben’s swim shorts and he pulls my dress over my head, then slowly pulls the strings on my clamshell bikini top. My breasts are still damp from the material, and feel cold under Ben’s warm hands. Sand sprinkles on the floor and rubs my skin. He unties my bottoms and we head to the bathroom and into the shower.

The water is still cold when we step in, but we’re so wrapped up in each other neither of us cares. Ben kisses me, then trails his lips down my neck and onto my breast. He pulls back, makes a face, and spits.

“You’re all sandy,” he says with a laugh.

I’m laughing too as I step away from him to let the water rush over me. “Better?”

“I think so.” He picks up where he left off, and I cast my eyes down to watch his big, beautiful cock rise to action. I take it in my hand, slowly pumping up and down while he kisses me all over.

Then he drops to his knees and keeps his hands on my waist. I lean back against the shower wall, holding onto the little plastic bar in the middle for support. Carefully, he props one of my legs up over his shoulder.

And I slip.

He catches me, uprights me, and puts his head between my legs. The water isn’t just warm now. It’s hot, as hot as I’m feeling for Ben right now. I’m holding on for dear life. I don’t want to slip again and risk him stopping.

His tongue lashes against me and my other hand goes to his strong shoulder, pushing myself against the shower wall to keep from sliding. He parts me with his fingers, hot tongue on my clit, and slips two fingers inside, working along with the rhythm of his mouth. He pushes against my g-spot, holds his fingers there for a second, then releases, all the while he’s licking and sucking and—holy fuck—using his teeth just enough to drive me absolutely wild.

I’m screaming his name in just minutes, coming so hard he has to hold me up to keep me from falling. I’m tingly all over from the orgasm, panting and heart racing. He hooks his arms under mine and pulls me to him.

“Felicity,” he says and looks into my eyes. “I … I think I—”

Thunder booms above us. The storm is coming in fast. It’s probably going to be bad. There’s something unsafe about being in the shower during a storm, right? I can’t think straight, and I honestly don’t care.

I wrap my arms around Ben and take a breath, steadying myself before I bend my still shaking legs. I take a second to appreciate the girth of his dick before opening my mouth and welcoming it in. I take my time, enjoying feeling Ben squirm from pleasure, hearing him pant and groan until he’s so close he pulls back and lifts me up.

He spins me around and I bend over, my ass against his front. He enters from behind, reaching around to stroke me while he thrusts in and out, fast then slow, until we are both coming at the same time. I’ve never had that—orgasming together at the same exact moment—but I’ve always wanted to.

We’re out of breath, panting, and not at all clean, when I shut the water off and grab towels. Rain and wind slap the small cabin, and the lights flicker.

“Storms come fast and hard off the lake,” I comment as I dry myself off.

“Kind of like you,” Ben says with a grin.

I shake my head and smile, legs still unsteady. I move over in front of the mirror, flip my head upside down, and wrap my dripping hair in the towel. Hastily, I rub lotion over my sunburned skin, then wind my way into the bedroom and collapse into bed. Ben joins me, pulling the blankets over our naked bodies.

I yank the towel off my head and drop it on the floor, wiggling closer to Ben. He envelopes me in his muscular arms, and we drift to sleep, snuggled safe inside together, listening to the storm rage around us.

*

It’s still going strong when we wake at nine.

“This is good sleeping weather,” Ben mumbles and rolls over, lazily throwing his arm around me. “And I think I can sleep all day.”

“Me too,” I say and adjust my pillow. It’s only a matter of minutes until the rain and the wind lull me back to sleep. We don’t get up again until close to noon. Ben is sprawled out when I slip out of bed. A day filled with stuffing my face and drinking leaves my stomach not so happy.

I hurry to the bathroom, needing a few minutes alone before Ben gets up. I close the door. Turning on the fan is too obvious. Well, I do need to shower. I nod, thinking that yes, this shall work. The water goes on and I’m about to sit down when the bathroom door opens.

“Showering without me?” Ben asks, giving me that I’m-going-to-fuck-you-again look. When I don’t return it, he raises his eyebrows. “It’s fine if you want to.”

“It’s not that,” I blurt.

“Then what is it?”

I try to come up with a lie but shake my head. I hate how women aren’t supposed to admit they go to the bathroom yet everybody has to take a poo every now and then. “I was using the shower to cover up the fact that I really need to poop.”

Ben bursts out laughing. “Yeah, don’t want to be in here for that.”

My cheeks heat up just a bit. I refuse to be embarrassed by a totally normal body function. “Raincheck?”

“Maybe in a while, once the air clears. Should I pack my stuff?”

“Yeah, we can do that then go to breakfast, well, lunch.”

Ben still has a look of amusement on his face. “I’ll work on that while you take care of business.”

I press my lips together but end up laughing. “Deal.” I do take a shower too, since there is still sand in my hair that needs to be washed out. I get out, towel my hair, and get dressed while Ben hops in for a quick shower.

Since it’s raining and we need to leave soon anyway, we drive to my parents’ house and I get my dad to open the garage door so we can run in and stay dry. We eat leftovers from last night, say our goodbyes, and head home.

An hour into our drive, Ben tells me he has two events to go to this week. He doesn’t even mention bringing me with. After a weekend like we just had, I don’t know how much more it will take for him to want me to be his girlfriend and be worthy of going to fancy art shit with him.

I think about it for too long, and I use the excuse of being tired when Ben asks why I’m not talking. I force myself to put on a smile the rest of the way.

“I’m starving,” Ben says when we pull into my driveway.

“Come in and I’ll make you something,” I say. “Mac and cheese sounds good.”

“It does, actually. I haven’t had that in a while.”

I raise an eyebrow. I thought all single people lived off of a diet that consisted of at least 50% mac and cheese. He brings in my suitcase, sets it in my room, and joins me in the kitchen. I’m feeling better and not so insecure when we take our bowls into the living room.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” I say and take a bite of food. Ben just nods, his mouth too full to answer. “Even though it was just as weekend thing, I feel like I need a day to recover.”

“Me too,” he agrees once he’s swallowed. “I probably will take tomorrow off. Perks of being my own boss.”

“That is so not fair.”

“You went into the wrong profession.”

“Apparently.” I take another few bites. “I have a feeling you’re going to have an awkward reunion with your secretary when you do go back too.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You can say that. And I’m sorry she gave you shit.”