He fucked her how she wanted it, how she begged him for it, the words no longer sounding strange and wrong in her mouth. “Harder,” she urged him breathlessly, her breasts bouncing in the lacy bra and the flimsy white shirt as he grabbed her thighs and plowed into her.

“That’s it,” he gasped, burying himself in and then drawing back to nail her again as she pressed her hips forward, taking him as deep as he’d go.

It was fast and rough and there was nothing held back, just the slap of skin against skin and her ass on the water as he worked her hips up and down. The fireworks boomed and the sea hissed and the distant crowd cheered as they danced the new year in, and Julia and Blake kept on fucking as the night unfolded around them.

Julia was feeling the low prickle of an orgasm building deep within when headlights flashed from the road. Immediately she and Blake dipped down into the water, just two people swimming exceptionally close… But the car didn’t stop and the headlights carried on. They heard the sound of car doors slamming as some group was dropped off, probably from a cab, and headed down to the main party on the beach while the car turned around and drove away.

Blake was still hard inside her as the waves splashed gently against them and he picked up their momentum as the darkness fell on them once again. The side of her panties chafed where he’d pushed them over but the rubbing added to her excitement and the illicitness of their whole affair. Her skirt pushed up over her hips, reminiscent of how he had taken her in her sundress under the waterfall. It was thrilling and filthy and wonderful, and she felt like she could hardly breathe.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he whispered in her ear as he wrapped her wet hair around one hand. It wasn’t a question; it wasn’t even a demand. He was just telling her, knowing that the words and the way he claimed her body would send a shudder through her thighs and bring her that much closer to coming with him.

Blake turned her around so he was entering her from behind and then found her clit with his fingers. “Come with me,” he whispered as his cock continued to press inside her, and then again: “Come when I come.”

His steady breathing, his insistence, the way he ground his hands and his hips into her, the splash of the water on her nipples, the feel of her feet trying to hold steady in the sand as he took her and took her and took her. The final, breathless finale of the fireworks overhead turning the sky into an explosion of color and light, and the cries from everyone who had gathered on the beach and in the water and lined the streets and the hotel balconies to see. Everything seemed to bombard her so that when he said “Now,” she couldn’t help it. She shattered.

The orgasm racked through her as she felt him release, and in the noise of the fireworks and the crowds and the sea she cried out while his hot, gasping breath filled her ears. She cried out for her orgasm and his, for the night and the new year, for her thirties and what had turned into an unimaginable gift: the chance to remember herself.

“Yes,” she cried out as he thrust one more time inside her, drawing out each wave of their pleasure together. “Yes,” she sighed as he rested his cheek against her back and buried his face in her salt-water hair.

“Yes,” he groaned back as he slowly withdrew and guided her panties back where they belonged, her skirt around her hips, her breasts tucked in her bra and her small white shirt covering everything just enough that nothing looked covered at all.

She turned in his arms so she could face him again and kissed him. “Happy New Year,” she whispered, pushing back his wet hair from his forehead.

“Somehow I have a good feeling about this year,” he said back, and together they swam slowly back to shore to rejoin the rest of the party, soaking wet and thoroughly sated and ready to dance the rest of the night away.

Blake was right. It turned out to be the first time she stayed up all night except for that one awful time with Danny. That had been a gray dawn, cooler than June should have been, everything misty and sharp. This was the first time she had seen the sunrise without having fallen asleep first, a lightening so subtle she didn’t even realize it was happening until somehow the sky had gone pink.

Brilliant streaks of orange seemed to rise straight out of the ocean, slowly and then more insistent, demanding that the revelers notice that the night was over and the new day ready to begin. The beach had thinned but it was a long time before the music stopped thumping. Julia and Blake made their way back along the sand littered with cups and bottles and flowers and discarded clothes, broken flip flops and sequined boas and all the detritus of the night that would soon be picked up by crews before it could be swept out to sea.

They walked back to the hotel room, ran a quick hot shower, and practically fell asleep in the steam. Julia collapsed on the bed, her wet clothes stripped off and discarded in a pile on the bathroom floor, too exhausted to toss and turn as Blake’s arm draped over her, holding her close as his steady breathing told the sunlight through the curtains to hold off until they were ready for the day to begin.

If she’d ever be ready.

The last thing Julia thought about as she fell asleep was that there was no more pushing this day from her mind. She snuggled closer to Blake and fell asleep wishing the sun would stop rising and the afternoon never come, so her plane never had to take off.

Chapter Nineteen

Saturday

Blake was surprised at how early he rose, considering they’d stayed up until late became early and the morning sun burned from bright orange to white. But his mind was too busy to sleep.

This was it. Today was the day.

Quietly he slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt while Julia slept. On his way out, he stopped at the front desk to get them a later checkout time so they could stay as long as they wanted until the bus.

Then he went to procure them some breakfast. Who wouldn’t like waking up naked in bed, wrapped in soft sheets, to a delivery of hot coffee, fresh tropical fruit juice, and pastries? He lingered for too long over the counter, picking the ones he thought she’d like best. An apricot puff with vanilla pastry cream. A chocolate croissant marbled with cherries inside. He could practically taste the sugar on her lips.

It was still early, though, so on his jaunt back he stopped at the computers in the hotel business room for a quick check. He figured he should pop in and wish everyone a happy new year, see how his mom was, and find out whether Anderson had responded to his previous emails—even though Blake wasn’t expecting much to be happening over the holidays. Really he wanted to give Julia a little more time to sleep, knowing that if he hung around the hotel room, he’d be too impatient about spending his last hours with her to let her rest.

If he was honest with himself, he needed the time, too. He hadn’t given any thought to what he was going to do next. He could barely wrap his head around the bus ride to São Paulo. And after she got on that plane?

He logged into his email. After was after. He’d deal with it then.

He had a few general happy new year emails from friends, a quick note from his mom saying everything was fine, no reply from Anderson, an update from the assistant director he set aside to read more carefully later, and an email from Jamie with the subject line, Ahoy there, mate. Blake clicked it open, hoping to hear that his friends were doing well in Chile and getting ready for their final flight home.

What he saw made his chest squeeze and his heart thud. Something thick and sour rose in the back of his throat and he wanted to log out, shut down the computer, get up and keep walking like he’d never stopped. If only he could pretend that he hadn’t seen what was on the screen, everything would be fine.