The Beach House Novels & Stories

he answers. Raven’s mouth fell open as she looked at the only structure that stood here at the beach where they would be staying. The simple beach house stood nestled amidst a picturesque coastal landscape. Its wooden exterior boasted a cheerful palette of pastel hues. Its sweet mint wood walls blended harmoniously with the sandy surroundings. On the front porch, Raven saw their luggage lying scatteredly, as if Lorcan had just dropped them off in a hurry. It was true, though. He is so excited to join Raven; he couldn’t resist the urge to join her as he watched her enjoy the ocean by herself.

And maybe he is, he definitely isn't mine anymore. Let's go back to thirty minutes ago... When we get to Seattle, Robyn has to direct Case because he doesn't know the way to the beach house. Quickly enough, we realize we can't trust Robyn's directions after missing our way twice so we decided to make use of G****e maps, a few minutes later we arrive at the beach house. Just as I expected, the beach house doesn't look like any normal beach house. At least not like what I have seen or imagined. It is huge and looks more like a beach mansion than a beach house.

“Then, we will relive some other fond memories.” “Just no boat rides,” I said, and we laughed. The trip to the beach house was uneventful. I kept watching the traffic behind us and was reasonably sure nobody was following us. Before leaving Victor’s apartment that morning, we made sure the truck had no tracker attached to it, and we traveled in the opposite direction from the beach before backtracking to the highway that would take us to Hallston Beach. We arrived at the Beach House in the early afternoon. It was warm enough to make me sweat as we unloaded the pickup. After we carried the boxes into the house, we took cold drink

he said with a low chuckle. They walked a few steps toward a shaded path lined with lanterns. And then— Valeria froze. Her breath caught. Before her stood an amazing, glass-walled contemporary beach house—not big, but glass-wrapped and amazing. White stucco and warm wood beams. Just installed in fresh new sod, the lawn was still emerald green. The back yard dropped away into the limitless blue of the Pacific. Through the windows, she saw the shape of furniture still wrapped in plastic. "Kc," she panted, spinning to him, her heart racing. "What is this?"

He smirked as I finally stepped out and stared up at the beautiful house in front of us. It was more of a beach house if anything, coloured white and positioned directly against the view of the beach. In only one quick run, you'd be beside the waves, sunbathing and enjoying the warmth that our winter unfortunately brought with it. "Tyler, this place is amazing!" Valentina gushed whilst grabbing her large suitcase and making her way up towards the front door.

Especially since it is winter, and we are going to a beach house that nobody uses. "We're almost there. Just a few more miles," he answered me, reaching for my hand but still keeping his eyes on the road. After some minutes, we finally arrived. Placed on the top of a cliff, the beach house is a beautiful two-story building with some of the walls covered in stone. Large teal-green framed windows give a spectacular view of the ocean and the outside deck above the waves is completed by an outdoor pool with an integrated Jacuzzi and a longe area around a fire pit.

She offered me a glass of wine and a tour of the house. Sarah has a three-bedroom/three-bath place on the beach. It wasn't the largest beach house but it was still gorgeous. It had an open floor plan, floor-to-ceiling windows, and patio doors overlooking the beach. The master suite was luxurious with a king-sized bed, walk-in shower, and a whirlpool tub. The ocean view from her balcony was stunning. She told me to leave my things in her room and change. She would wait for me downstairs so we could go into the hot tub. I'm not much of a beach person because, being a fair-skinned redhead, I burn easily so the hot tub sounded great.

Now I knew he'd been bleeding me dry for Riley Anderson, his childhood sweetheart. "I want to refinance the house, too," he added. I stopped what I was doing, my hands frozen in the sink, and turned to stare straight at him. "You really want your four three-year-old sons to end up homeless?" This house wasn't much, just a small three-bedroom, but it was ours—the one we'd fought for, saved for, and sacrificed for. The mortgage wasn't even close to being paid off. His name was on the deed because when we first bought it, I had been out of town on business. He'd told me it would be easier that way, with him making the payments.

BEACH HOUSE MILF PT 1 Selene Moreau arrived at the family’s beach house in the early afternoon of the first day of spring break while the coastal air was already warm and carrying the steady scent of salt and sun-warmed wood as she stepped out of the car and stretched the stiffness of the drive from her shoulders. At forty-three she had come hoping for quiet after a long stretch of loneliness that had settled into the ordinary weeks of her life like a low and constant pressure, the kind that made even familiar rooms feel larger and emptier than they should. The house sat close enough to the water that the sound of the waves reached the front porch without effort while the wide deck and the s

Pretending his presence didn’t take up more oxygen than it should. When we finally pulled into the driveway, the sun was melting into the horizon, painting the water liquid gold. The beach house was obscene—gray shingles, crisp white trim, wraparound porch dripping with hanging ferns, private boardwalk to the sand, infinity-edge pool that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread. Three stories of effortless wealth. Victoria clapped once as Dad killed the engine. “Isn’t it perfect?” “Perfect,” I echoed, deadpan. Chase grunted, grabbed his duffel from the trunk, and headed inside like he was already mentally mapping escape routes.