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Zoe Moore

I let the cool evening air blow against me, my hair blowing lightly in the wind. I was sitting very close to the shore, my toes almost touching the seawater. I liked the feeling. The grainy feel of the sand against my palms and thighs and the cold feeling of the seawater against my toes.

It felt good to be here. I had dropped Noelle, my daughter, at my best friend Harper's house. My mom finally convinced me to take a break from everything and have some fun, even if it was going to be short. Being a single mother who has to work to support her family while caring for a three-year-old daughter is not easy. I haven’t had a proper vacation in far too long.

I was reluctant, but I finally gave in.

It was worth it.

I had flown over here on Friday and planned to leave on Sunday because of work. It was hard to fully enjoy my break as I kept getting calls from work. Today was different in a way that calmed me.

No calls from work or messages from Noelle's school reminding me about unpaid school fees, no tiny voice calling out ‘mummy’ every minute, and, most importantly, no calls from Lane, my ex-husband.

It was just me and the beautiful sight of this beach.

I stood up and walked into the water, the water pooling higher and higher around my legs the deeper I ventured.

The waves rolled gently around me, and I smiled. Maybe my mom was right after all. I did deserve this break, especially after the insane amount of work my boss had dumped on me the previous week.

I walked deeper into the water, now almost waist-deep, letting the cold, salty water calm my nerves. And it did.

I was so carried away, relishing the shooting feeling of the water against my skin. I didn't notice the bigger wave coming until it hit me.

“Whoa,” I said aloud, startled.

It crashed against me with enough force to knock me sideways. I tried to regain my balance. I laughed at my clumsiness

Another wave followed.

This one was even stronger than the last. It slammed into me so hard, my feet didn't touch the bottom anymore.

I panicked and foolishly tried to grab onto something as the waves dragged me deeper. I struggled against the current to stand up, but it was impossible. I gasped as another wave crashed over my head, pulling me deeper. My arms flapped around me in a lame attempt to swim.

But I wasn't a swimmer. I was starting to drown for real. I panicked again and started yelling.

“Help!”

My voice disappeared as I went under, the sea swallowing my voice. I came up again and yelled.

“Help!”

I glanced around and finally caught sight of a figure. I wondered if anyone could hear me. I went under again. The salty water burned my eyes. The instant I came up, I yelled even louder.

“Help!” the figure heard, glancing in my direction, and began sprinting towards me with urgency. A man. He dived into the water without a moment's hesitation, and I felt an arm wrap tightly around my waist.

I didn't care who he was; I clung to him for dear life.

“I've got you,” he said. His voice was deep and oddly reassuring. He fought the waves, pulling me to shore with an ease that put my previous efforts to shame.

My knees buckled under me as I finally touched sand. His hand shot out, steadying me.

“Easy,” he said on an almost laugh. I coughed as I tried to get water out of my system.

“Are you okay?” He asked, patting my back. I nodded.

With him still holding onto me, I realized in horror. My bikini top was gone

My eyes widened as I stepped back and crossed my arms over my chest in horror. My entire body went rigid.

“Oh, my God!”

The huge wave must have washed away my bikini top. I couldn’t believe I was carried back to shore by a stranger while practically naked. This was so embarrassing.

He looked at me for a second. Finally understanding the situation, he got a towel and draped it around my shoulder. I gripped the towel tightly as I wrapped it firmly against my chest.

“Thank you,” I said in gratitude.

“You're welcome.”

I finally looked at him properly.

He was handsome. Not the ordinary kind of handsome that made you glance twice. The kind that made you think you were seeing a Greek god standing right in front of you.

He had dark hair, a visibly strong jaw, broad shoulders, and eyes that seemed far too observant.

“You scared me,” he said.

I blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said with a laugh.

I laughed awkwardly.

“I think I scared myself more,” I muttered under my breath, gripping the edge of the towel.

We were quiet for some time, and I looked down at the towel.

“I'm unable to give you back the towel,” I said.

“I'll be fine.”

I smiled in response.

“Thank you once again…” I trailed off.

“Hugh,” he finished with a smile.

“I'm Zoe,” I said, smiling back.

I began walking back to my things, getting prepared to leave.

“Are you here alone?” His voice came from behind. I clutched my phone as I turned to him.

After a beat, I answered, “Yeah, I came here by myself for a vacation. You?”

“Same.” I was about to turn back to my things when he continued, “Mind if you join me for dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“Exactly. You should join me. The hotel restaurant is pretty good. You probably need a drink after that scare. I want to make your evening better.” He smiled. “Two lonely travellers. We can chat and keep each other company”

Something about his smile made me give in.

“Sure. I probably won’t be getting back in the water anytime soon,” I laughed. “I’ll go change, and we can meet up at the restaurant. In about 15 minutes, cool?”

Hugh nodded, his smile reaching his eyes. His beautiful eyes

I wasn’t sure why I had agreed to dinner with him so easily. Maybe it was gratitude that he rescued me. Or maybe it was because he was goddamn hot! I’d probably been smiling the entire time we were talking –foolishly.

Minutes later, we were sitting across from each other, eating very expensive food I wouldn't have been able to afford on a normal day. The dinner itself was really nice. We talked and laughed a lot through most of it. The food was delicious, and the wine tasted good.

Hugh was funny and a gentleman. He insisted on paying the bill when I offered to split it.

We finished, and he offered to walk me back to my hotel.

When we reached the entrance, he stopped. He turned to stare at me, clutching a paper bag I hadn’t noticed previously.

“It was a nice evening thanks to you, Hugh.”

“Here.” He offered me the bag.

I opened it and gaped at the expensive bikini inside.

“No, no, this is too much. I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me today.”

He stepped closer. Somehow the air between us tightened. My heart slowed as I stared up at him.

“I want to,” he said, voice low and certain.

His eyes dropped to my lips. I swallowed hard. We stood locked in that charged silence; then he leaned in, slow enough to give me every chance to pull away. I didn’t. It’d been far too long since I’d been close to a man.

I rose onto my toes, arms sliding around his neck, the bag crushed between us as our mouths met.

The kiss started soft, then turned frenzied. His tongue slid against mine, deep and claiming. I answered equally, heat pooling between my legs. He pressed me back against the door while I fumbled for the key card with shaking hands. When the lock finally clicked, he guided me inside and shut the door with quiet finality.

Without looking, Hugh set the bag aside. His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheekbones as he studied me in the dim light.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, voice rough with desire.

After my divorce, I didn’t date anyone. And the prospect of spending the night with this handsome stranger... I couldn’t help feeling a heady rush of excitement

“I don’t,” I whispered.

A dark, pleased smile touched his mouth. Then he kissed me again, slower and deeper, tasting, while one hand slid down to cup my ass and pull me flush against the hard length already straining his shorts. I felt every thick inch of him, and my knees nearly gave out.

His hands moved to my top button. He didn’t rush; he worked his way down slowly. He didn’t tug off the shirt when he was done. He simply held me there, letting the heat build until I was the one pressing closer, restless and already wet. Only when a soft, desperate sound escaped me did he ease the shirt away. It fell to the floor. Cool air kissed my bare skin; his gaze followed, hungry but unhurried.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured. Then, firmer: “Eyes on me.”

I obeyed. His eyes never left mine as his hands rose to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over already tight nipples. My breath hitched. He watched every reaction, learning me. I bit my lips. He leaned in and took one peak in his mouth, sucking on them slowly until my knees weakened. He switched sides, teeth grazing just enough to sting, then soothing with his tongue until I was arching into him, soft moans spilling free.

“Hugh…”

“I got you.”

He guided me backwards until the backs of my knees hit the bed. I sank. He followed, kneeling between my thighs, still clothed while I was completely bare. My pulse raced. A quiet, satisfied sound left his throat.

“Hands above your head. Keep them there.”

I hesitated only a second before raising them. The position left me open, exposed, nipples tight, thighs already trembling. Heat flooded my cheeks, but the way he looked at me, like he wanted to ruin me…made the vulnerability of my position feel electric.

He rewarded me with long, open-mouthed kisses, trailing down my throat, across my collarbone, and lower. His mouth closed over one nipple again while his fingers found the other, rolling and teasing until I was squirming. When he nipped lightly, I gasped his name.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my skin. “Let me hear”

His hands slid lower, spreading my thighs wider. The first brush of his fingers over my already slick folds made my hips jerk. He soothed me with another kiss, then began to explore properly, circling my clit with maddening patience, stroking through the wetness he found, learning exactly where pressure made me tremble and where a lighter touch made me moan. Never rushed. Every movement deliberate, confident, and focused on drawing even more responses from me.

Two fingers finally slid inside; the stretch was perfect. He curled them just right, and I cried out. He worked me steadily, thumb circling in time with the slow thrust of his fingers. I looked down and saw him watching my face as my wetness coated his hand.

“Soaking already,” his voice low and pleased. “Dripping on my fingers like a good girl.”

He eased the pressure just enough to keep me hovering on the edge. I made a frustrated, needy sound. He came up, hands still in me. He smiled against my mouth.

“Patience, sweet.”

Only when I was shaking, hips rolling helplessly against his hand, did he lean down and replace his thumb with his mouth. The first slow, firm drag of his tongue over my clit stole the air from my lungs. He licked and sucked with the same unhurried control, fingers still fucking me in deep, curling strokes, until the tension coiled so tightly I thought I might break. He spread me open with his thumbs and ate me like he was starving—long licks from my entrance all the way up to my clit, then sucking hard until my thighs trembled around his head.

“Hugh…please…fuck…”

“Come for me,” he said against my pussy, the command soft but absolute. “Now. Let me taste every drop.”

The orgasm hit hard and deep, rolling through me in long, helpless waves. My thighs clamped around his head; my hands fisted in the sheets above me. I came so hard my vision blurred. He stayed with me, sucking and licking and fingering through it, then he pressed soft kisses to my inner thighs as I floated back down, still twitching and dripping.

Still catching my breath, he rose, stripped with efficient movements, and settled over me again. The weight of him was solid, grounding. I felt the thick, heavy press of his cock against my entrance.

He paused, bracing above me, eyes locked on mine.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” I whispered. Then, stronger, because he was waiting, “I want you to fuck me. Please. I need it.”