Page 95 of Your Play to Call
“Wait a minute.” He pulls out his phone and takes a photo of me. I’m wrapped in a sheet, hair a wreck, eyes thick with sleep, and a bite of pancake almost in my mouth. “This is a morning I want to remember.”
I let him take the photo, with no resistance. You know why? Because the way he looks at me makes me feel whole.
Later that morning, I see he’s using that picture as his phone wallpaper.
It might be windy,but the sun is bright while we walk along the beach. It’s one of those fall days where the air is a touch warmer than expected. The sounds of the waves crashing and hitting the sand are the perfect soundtrack as Tripp holds my hand and we walk along a piece of the coast. We wanted to spend some time on the beach before we headed back to New York.
I look over at Tripp and can’t help but grin. This moment is telling me something I already know—I love him. I don’t know if I can say it yet. I close my eyes, the sun hits my face, as I take in everything about this.
The stakes would be the highest. I’d have something, too much, to lose. Part of me wants to jump on him, wrap my legs around his waist, and scream I love him while we’re on this beach. The other part wants me to deal with these feelings later.
The latter wins.
“See that, over there?” Tripp asks, pointing ahead.
At first, all I see is a dull white structure. Then I realize: it’s a lighthouse.
“I used to take all my friends here, sort of my secret place. It’s been empty for years but the town keeps it in good enough shape. It’s for all of us.”
The idea of an entire town banding behind this lighthouse warms my heart.
We walk to the lighthouse, our steps a bit quicker now that we have a destination in mind.
Tripp opens the weather-beaten front door like he’s coming back home. We walk into the interior, lit by the sunshine. For something that’s been abandoned, it’s in great shape.
As we walk up the narrow staircase, the steps creak and groan under our weight. They’re painted black and are riddled with dust and sand.Tripp leads and steps into the opening at the top. It’s mostly windows so his expression is illuminated by the sun. He’s in awe.
He spins, taking in the room, like he probably has done a hundred times before.
“We lucked out. No clouds. Lots of sun. This is one of my favorite places.” He looks to me and then to the windows.
The view is incredible. It’s miles and miles of rocky coastline and endless blue water, and with the sun high in the sky, it’s almost like parts of the ocean are glittering.
“Now I get to experience it with one of my favorite people,” he almost whispers as he pulls me close to him.
His hands reach for me, moving from the sides of my face and settling on the nape of my neck. Tripp puts his nose to mine, his thumbs caressing my jaw. When the air around us crackles and sparks, I realize I’m holding my breath like I don’t want to disturb a single thing.
This is one of those moments that you’ll recall with daydreaming eyes and a full heart. Being here, in this snapshot of time, in this place, makes me feel complete. Almost like I’ve never been more myself with another human than I am with Tripp. It’s startling. My stomach drops.
“Tripp—”
But then he kisses me. His lips tell secrets of need. Want. Urgency.
His hands reach into my hair and he kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe. I part my lips, letting his tongue touch mine. I push myself into him, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. That’s when I feel his erection touching the fabric of my maxi dress.
I can’t hold back the wicked groan that escapes my mouth. Tipping my head back, I give Tripp more access to me, and let my hips push further into him.
He nips and kisses up and down my neck. His hands reach down and grab my ass, causing me to stand up straight.
“Fuck, Lo. See what you do to me” He looks down to his dick, hard in his jeans. His hands knead and grab my ass in a way that makes it hard to think.
“I know the feeling,” I say, breathy and quick. The ache in my low belly throbs with desire, craving him.
My hands find his stomach, muscles flexing strong and firm. When my fingers walk a path, low and intentional, to the top of his jeans, Tripp puts his own head back. The way he gives himself to me, and the pleasure I know I can give him, is another thing I crave.
I slowly undo the button, pull down the zipper and dance my fingers down until I’m gripping his shaft. I slowly stroke, up and down, tilting my head and tossing my wind-blown hair to one side. I feel the bead of moisture at the tip and can’t help but bite my lip.
His hips move with and against me to get the pressure and placement he needs. He moves faster, using one hand to grab my shoulder to help with some leverage.