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Surely To The Sea

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By the time he pulled the hatch closed behind him he was already reaching for her, whispering words he wouldn’t be able to recall later but that he knew spoke of his love for her and his adoration of her.

He was still reeling from how close he had come to losing her, still keeping at the back of his mind that he had never owed his sister more than he did today.

But it all took a back seat to the pull of her hands as she kicked off her shoes and pulled him down to kiss her.

Her lips were desperate now, and he felt the same way – felt that all those months ago when they made love, they had proven to each other how fireworks would explode with their lovemaking, and he was itching to get right down to the finale.

He wanted to do this right, though. He wanted to love her and cherish her, to show her all she had come to mean to him over the last few months.

So when she began lifting his shirt hem and pulling at the waistband of his jeans, he stepped back from her and watched the most adorable frustrated pout spread over her reddened lips. When he lifted his shirt up and over his head he watched her tongue come out to wet her lip, but he set the shirt on the dinette bench and waited.

Immediately she lifted her own shirt over her head, bringing a few hair pins with it so her ponytail came tumbling over her shoulder.

At the sight of her light pink satin bra Rory nearly lost his resolve, but he slowed his hands as he unhooked his belt and his pants, sliding them down his hips and off his feet while never breaking eye contact with her.

Grace smiled brightly at him, and she did the same with her skirt, it joining the pile of clothes on the bench.

Socks were next, but when Rory was left with only his boxers, Grace continued – removing her hair tie to let the glorious umber mass cascade over the backs of her shoulders as she stepped towards him. Next came her bra, which joined the pile of clothing, and she walked into his arms.

It was probably a good thing that she pressed her body against his and removed her nakedness from his sight, as he was reaching the end of his tenuous grip on his control. Going slow was pleasing to the eye, and pleasing to the soul, yes, but what he really wanted – what he did just then – was lift her into his arms and carry her into the bedroom.

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Grace’s entire body was humming with the realization that Rory was hers – good and truly hers, and she had no reservations about it whatsoever.

She had thought she might miss the prospect of having a job, but the more she thought about escaping to the sea with this big Scotsman, the more she fancied herself deserving of some downtime.

Downtime, that is, as long as Rory didn’t have her in his bed. That was uptime , surely. The thought made her smile, and though he didn’t know her thoughts, he smiled back as he crawled over her, naked now, to rest beside her on the bed.

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips, before trailing his mouth to her neck, her bare shoulder and lower to her breast. He said it again around her nipple as he took it into his mouth, loving it as surely as his words did, with his tongue. His hand roamed her body, feeling the tautness of her stomach, the gentle hill of bone at her hip, and grazing over the thin fabric of her cotton panties in a way she was certain was meant to just tease her to climax.

“Rory,” she hissed when his hand drifted over the swell of flesh between her legs, tilting her hips in a fashion that she hoped spoke of her need for him.

His answering growl as he pulled her flesh into his mouth said he was feeling the same, as did the hardness pressed into her thigh at her side.

“I need you.”

Her breast left his mouth as he withdrew his head, though when she expected him to give her what she wanted, he simply moved to the other breast, feeling the brush of his erection as he settled between her legs.

It was like worship, what his hands and body and mouth were doing to her skin, the way the hairs dusting his chest brushed against her stomach, how his strong hands slid up her chest, her throat, and into her hair. She knew he liked it, and there was nothing in her that desired to every have it up around him again.

When he rose to kiss her, at the same time he pressed himself into her and she gasped, though his kiss was short and ended with him drawing her lower lip between his teeth. The scrape as he released her left her grasping at his shoulders as he lowered himself down the bed, drawing her panties as he went. She lifted her hips to aid him, and found his face was the next thing that came between her legs, her breath hitching in her throat as she realized just a heartbeat later what he was going to be doing.

What was the name of that couple again, who lived next door? Yes, the Johansen’s. Grace was certain they would come knocking and ask what Rory was doing to her to get her to cry out like he was.

Her hands grasped the sheet, her head twisted and turned on the pillows and she called Rory’s name like a plea, like a demand, at times breathless and at others loud and clear, until she was covered in a slick of sweat from the torturous ministrations he delivered to her with his lips and tongue.

“You… devil,” she gasped when he rose, and Grace pulled him to her with her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, noting that he, too, had a sheen of sweat over his body.

He was tightly holding onto his control, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before this drawn out lovemaking would turn into torture for him so she hooked her leg around his thigh and pulled him towards her as he captured her mouth yet again with his.

She would never tire of kissing him, she was certain.

Nor would she ever tire of hearing him tell her he loved her, which he did at least once every minute as he slid on a condom and drove himself into her, robbing her of all breath and rational thought.

“Rory,” she said, and realized it almost sounded like a sob. But it had been so long , so long that she had dreamt of this that she expected never to happen again, this coming together that she knew would feel like two hearts melding into one. “I – ” she swallowed, feeling the girth of him filling her, stretching her, making her his . “I need you,” she whispered, and he began to move.

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Her hands were all over him – his neck and shoulders, down his back to his butt where she squeezed when he withdrew, as though she couldn’t bare the thought of him leaving her.

The feeling was mutual. If there was a way to remain buried deep within her until they died, he would do it – so much did she feel like home .

His nose was full of her scent – oranges and woman and desire – and the way her heavily lidded eyes were looking up at him…

That term “ as though he hung the moon” was given new meaning then, because that’s how she was looking at him. Her eyes were speaking the same words of love her lips were saying, over and over, even as her hands came up to glide over his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. She slid them down to grip his neck, down his shoulders to his upper arms and back again, as he felt her squeezing him deep inside her body.

It was only when her mouth hung open and her neck arched, her eyes sliding nearly closed and her breath turning rapid, that he finally dropped his head to her shoulder and picked up his speed. With an arm behind her shoulders and one at her hip holding her steady, he thrust deeply into her warmth, feeling the quiverings around his cock as her climax built.

Her incoherent mumbling mixed with overwhelmed mewls of pleasure, but he began to make out individual words even as his own thoughts scrambled and scattered. When at last he felt her tumbling into her orgasm, her stuttered, “I – love you!” took him into the same realm and he felt himself swell within her a moment before stars collided and the universe exploded, his climax ripping a cry from his throat as his last few thrusts milked the sensations and caused both their bodies to tremble and shudder. Her arms were tight around him, her thighs sandwiching his hips, and together they rode out the storm until he began to feel her pressing kisses to his hair, his ear, anywhere she could reach.

“That,” he mumbled into her shoulder, feeling just barely strong enough to not collapse against her, “Was…” But he didn’t know what to say. Whatever it was, she was saying it with her hands as her fingertips stroked over his back, up and down his spine as she inhaled deeply and sighed the softest, most pleasantly satisfied sigh he had ever heard.

“Aye,” was her replied whisper, and then he felt a tremor ripple through her body.

Fearing it was tears that made her shiver, he pulled back enough to see her open her eyes and focus on him. There were no tears, though – only her poor attempt at holding back a smile as she bit her lower lip between her teeth.

“What are you laughing about,” he asked incredulously, unable to stop himself from dropping gentle, loving kisses to her chin, the corner of her lips, the tip of her nose. He would leave those kisses over every inch of her body before the week was through, he vowed it to himself.

With a tiny shake of her head she released her lip, smiling widely as she traced a finger down his temple to the scruff on his cheek. Then she traced over the lines in his forehead, down the ridge of his nose, and further – down the divot in his upper lip to the seam of his mouth.

“I’m just… happy,” she said, lifting her eyes to his – so close he could see the flecks of gold and mahogany radiating outward in her irises. Sable lashes blinked and she looked from his eyes to his lips and then back again. “Happier,” she explained softly, “Than I ever thought imaginable.”

“Aye,” he readily agreed, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as he closed his eyes.

But he stayed there, and soon his mouth was moving over her lips and she was responding beneath him, her tongue reaching out to gently tangle with his in a gentle kiss that spoke of all the emotions he had swirling inside him.

When he pulled back he was surprised to see a sadness sweep over her features, and he cupped her face, kissing her briefly and saying he would be right back as he rose to dispose of the condom. Then he was back, and he slid into the bed beside her and pulled her to him so that her cheek pillowed just beneath his collarbone.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Grace,” he prompted, one hand sliding up to her shoulder and then down to the roundness of her bottom. He repeated the gesture over and over, wishing to soothe away whatever was worrying her.

“I just… I should have known. I should have known that you loved me, and I was so blinded by being set in my ways that I missed all the signs.”

Rory had to chuckle, because he completely agreed with her.

“I had tried to be obvious about it.”

He was gratified to hear her laugh as well, her face turning into his chest to press her lips into his hair covered skin.

And because it was true, he added, “I gave you clues as often as I could – ”

“I know, I know,” but he could feel her smiling, could see the roundness of her cheek before she turned her eyes up to him. Her smile faded again and she shook her head.  “I knew, though, and I almost lost you. When you sang those songs – god , Rory, I knew .”

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Grace watched as he smiled, loving how his eyes soothed her, how his hands comforted her with gentle touches.

“I was just too stubborn to realize what I had with you, that my job is secondary to my feelings for you. And I let all that crap cloud my vision when I saw those damned panties – ”

Rory chuckled, saying quietly, “I’m sorry too, Grace – for not correcting you when I should have.” He sighed, looking down at her with such love in his eyes that Grace felt her knees would have weakened for sure, had she been standing.

She smiled too, now, as he added, “And this was all Sally’s fault. If she hadn’t forgotten the fucking panties – ”

“Hush,” Grace admonished him, truly smiling now. “Your sister is an angel.”

“Are we talking about the same woman? Name’s Sally, goes by Pain In My Arse – ”

Grace laughed outright then, loud and carefree as she slid her hand up to interrupt his facetious tirade. With fingers to his lips she quieted him, and in return he kissed the pads of her fingers.

“Kiss me,” she demanded softly, wanting to think of other things aside from how close she had come to losing him. Rory obliged, drawing her up to his mouth. Grace found that the kiss that should have been tame and sensual suddenly – of its own accord though she was certain the fact that Rory was beneath her had something to do with it – turned wild and passionate, her own emotions welling up within her and coming out in the way she started to paw at his limbs, grasped at his torso, and tasted his lips. His fingers grappled for purchase on her waist and hips, his breathing quickened, and the soft moan of desire that escaped his lips did more for her desire than she anticipated it would.

“Fuck me, Grace, do you realize how long I’ve wanted you?”

The shake of her head was quick, and when his hand slid down to cup her bottom against him she shifted so that she was straddling him, the blankets falling when she sat up. She watched his eyes roaming hungrily over her naked breasts, over her belly and the part of her that was pressed into his growing erection. Rocking her hips, she rubbed against him in a way that made his breath hiss through his teeth.

“You’ve been on my mind every day, every night,” she admitted with a gasp, feeling the burning building up within her torso. 

“I never would have brought a woman on board, Grace – not like what you think.” He swallowed, and when she lifted a hand to his face he turned into it, kissing her palm. “I’ve loved you for too long,” he admitted softly.

“Oh, Rory,” she breathed, rocking again, shifting her hips so that he moved against her in the exact right spot. “I was too blind to know I had fallen in love with you, but you knew, didn’t you?” He smiled, and then he smiled wider when her own grin said he didn’t have to say anything.

Her mock outrage made him laugh, and he pressed a hand to her soft stomach before sliding it up to her bare breast. She knew she finally had time to love his body and to allow him to love hers, as much as she loved his heart.

“Let me love you,” she demanded in a whisper, watching him look at her body, reaching down to feel the evidence of his desire between them. “Love me,” she whispered again, and she lowered to kiss him, bracing her hands against his chest as she rolled her pelvis over the length of him, feeling the pressure mountain even though he wasn’t inside her yet.

“Aye, Grace,” was all he said before she retrieved another condom.

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That night she rode him, as well as the next night, and the night after that. There wasn’t a night that they didn’t come together in that manner, or in some position or another, to show their love for each other. Rory was deliriously in love, and when he left a week later for Glasgow and for a meeting with Mitch – a meeting in which he would be telling his agent he was going off-grid for two or three weeks – he regretted not bringing her with him the instant he closed the hatch behind him. But he had another errand that he needed to do and she couldn’t be around for when he did it.

Looking back in the empty vehicle he double checked that he would have enough room for another man, a woman, and two kids. Their flight landed in four hours, and Rory was due there to pick them up to spend the week before he took Grace and they left civilization behind for a while.

Today Grace would be calling the company she had worked for and informing them that she was giving her two week notice. It was something they agreed upon, since she would be living on the boat and had already been quite outspoken over her love of taking care of it – and him.

He was only a mile from the harbor on his way to the city when the SUV read aloud his first text from her.

“I miss you already.”

The somewhat male robotic voice made it sound funny, but Rory waited to see if he would receive another one. She knew he was driving and wouldn’t text her back, so when another text came through five minutes later he wasn’t surprised.

“Call me when you get there.”

Then another one just a couple minutes later.

“Pick up some whipped cream on your way home. I have plans.”

Rory put on his four-way flashers and pulled over to the side of the road. In an instant he had his phone in his hand and was listening to the ringing for barely seconds before she picked up.

“Hey – ” she said, sounding breathless.

“Hey,” was his reply, and then he chuckled. “Tell me how to turn the damned Bluetooth off in this car. You’re going to drive me insane with your texts.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and then she began singing softly, and he smiled as he rested back against the headrest.

 

You're just too good to be true

I can't take my eyes off you

“Grace,” he groaned, but he knew she’d just hear the smile in his voice. Indeed she must have, because she chuckled and kept singing.

 

You'd be like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

“I’ll never make it to Glasgow at this rate.”

 

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive

“You’re killing me, woman.”

 

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

“Fuck it. Mitch can wait.”