Caught in the Rain: Season 1

Caught in the Rain FB ad

Episode One

I sat at the long, somewhat generic, downstairs bar of the Daytona Beach Grand Destiny Hotel with a martini sitting untouched in front of me. I didn’t really drink martinis but this weekend I wasn’t me. For the next forty-eight hours Eve Spencer didn’t exist. Instead I was Joyce Flayer, a quiet but spunky account manager looking for some fun at the boring sales conference she was attending alone.

For some reason I decided Joyce liked martinis before I remembered that I hated them. But then again, I didn’t really need the alcohol. This was a part and as long as the martini helped me feel like Joyce, then nothing else mattered.

“Hey stranger,” a very familiar voice murmured as the man it was attached to slid onto the barstool beside me.

I rolled my eyes. It was our first stab at this weekend away idea I had and we were already failing. “You don’t know me,” I hissed without looking at him.

“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat and shifted.

I toyed with the stem of my martini glass. Jake and I had a good marriage and very healthy sex life but parenthood had made things a bit stale. I craved a little adventure and, more than anything, an opportunity to be a little wild. Jake and I used to sneak away to have sex in bathrooms mid-party. We found dark corners and hallways. Those can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other kids had kids and we went from hand jobs in secret to behaving like proper adults.

It was the right thing to do but oh so boring.

That’s when I suggested meeting up as strangers. No kids. No responsibilities. And a city where we knew almost no one.

“Can I get you a drink?” The bartender finally made his way over to the man beside me.

“What do you have on draft?”

While they discussed brews I snuck a look at him. We’d arrived separately so I had no idea what to expect. To my surprise he’d kind of, sort of, dressed the part. His hair was brushed back more than usual. His five o’clock shadow had been left wild and unruly instead of trimmed back or shaven. Instead of his usual black t-shirt or dress shirt, he wore flannel in Florida along with his most worn-in pair of blue jeans.

He looked different but just as yummy as he always did.

I shimmied in my blue silk blouse, full black skirt, and blazer. Joyce liked to dress up while still professional. (If professional ladies wore no underwear, that is.)

“Can I get you a different drink?” he asked. “You don’t seem to be enjoying the one you have.”

Decent opening line. “No thank you. I’m just taking it slow tonight. Joyce Flayer,” I said, holding out my hand and smiling in the most flirtatious way possible. I’d have felt ridiculous if it wasn’t all for fun.

“Hopper,” he replied with an equally mischievous grin. “Hopper Hawkins.”

“Are those really your names?” the bartender asked as he set Hopper’s beer down.

“Of course,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

“It’s just that. . . well, there’s a Chief Hopper and a Joyce Byer on Stranger Things. Have you ever watched it?”

“Never seen it,” I lied. Because by “never seen it” I obviously meant just binged on the new season this week. It was how we came up with our code names for the weekend. I wanted to live out my grumpy cop fantasy and Jake was more than happy to oblige.

“Well, I guess stranger things have happened.” The bartender thought he was hilarious.

And honestly? He kind of was. His play on words was on pointe.

“So what are you doing here, Joyce?” Hopper asked once the bartender moved on to another customer.

“I’m just in town for the weekend. There’s a sales conference here at the hotel.” I waved behind me as if I belonged in one of the ballrooms where their meetings were taking place.

“Interesting. All alone?”

“For now.” I turned to face him. “And you?”

“Me?”

“What is it you do, Hopper?” Was it weird I got a little thrill calling him by a different name? Probably. Maybe? Did I care?

“Law enforcement.”

He could have simply said hot cop and I’d have been just as happy. “Are you a police office here?”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “No. I’m here on vacation. I wanted to see the Atlantic.”

“Alone?” my voice came out all breathy, making it obvious how this little banter was turning me on already.

“Sometimes you just have to take your destiny into your own hands.” His gaze dipped lower, to my very intentionally low-cut blouse.

I took a deep breath and his eyes widened. Bingo. “Can I see your gun?”

He just barely held back a laugh. “That doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“I know how to handle one.”

His eyes darkened and he cleared his throat. God, how I loved when I got to him. “I’m sure you do. Perhaps it would be in the best interest of the public if I made sure though.”

“Here?” The bar was filling quickly. We’d chosen this hotel because of the conference. It was easy to be just another attendee from out of town, looking for company in the hotel bar. Sure enough the once quiet room was now over three-quarters full.

“There’s a small booth in the back corner.” He pointed over my shoulder to a spot no one wanted because it was too small for a group.

I nodded, flagging down the bartender. “We’re moving over there.”

He waved us away, happy to have space for the rush of customers. I took the lead so Jake—I mean Hopper—could enjoy the sway of my hips as I moved across the busy room.

When I turned to sit I was rewarded with dark eyes and what I was quite positive was a growing erection behind his zipper. Hello lover. It had been too long. Far too long since we’d had fun like this. I felt alive again. Electricity crackled in the air, my skin was on fire, my heart and my head thudding with the adrenaline pumping through me.

Just the idea that he was turned on by me, and willing to let me touch him, had me hot and wet. How far we would go in public, I had no idea. We set no rules for this. Well, technically we set one: do what felt right.

And this felt oh so right.

“A little to the left,” he said with a nod of his head in the direction he wanted me to move. “There.” Then he sat beside me. So close we might as well be one. “It’s so dark I couldn’t see anything under the table and I could just barely make out your hand on your drink.” He whispered this against my ear, then dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Is this okay?”

I shivered. “Yes. This is wonderful.”

“Not too fast?”

“No. Not for me.”

With his index finger he turned my head to face him. “Good.” Then he angled his lips over mine.

I kissed him back. Once, twice, three times. Then snuck a glance out at the room. No one looked our way. No one cared. It was as if we were invisible.

I slid my hand up the inside of his thigh. Up, up, up, until I found the ridge. Rock hard and straining. With my index finger I traced the outline of his erection, listening as his breath grew deeper, never once looking away from his eyes.

“Do you like how this feels?”

“Yes,” he groaned under his breath.

“It’s not too much.”

“Never.”

That sent another thrill through me. “I told you I knew how to handle things.”

That earned me another groan. “What about me? Don’t you want to know how I handlethings?”

Oh god. “Yes . . . ”

His hand cupped my hip and squeezed. I turned on instinct to face him in the booth, my leg slung over his thigh, my other leg wrapped around his to hold me steady.

His hand traveled up over my blouse but under my blazer, searching for my nipple. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

I shook my head, lost in the way it felt to have his hand on me.

“Fuck, Eve.”

“I’m not Eve.”

His thumb brushed over my nipple, the silk blouse giving the simple gesture an added tingle. Lust and desire shot through me. Yes. Yes . . . More.

“Okay, Joyce. Do you like it when I touch you here?”

“Yes. Do it again.”

He did. Again and again. Back and forth, then in circles. I squeezed my thighs together, seeking more.

“Why didn’t you wear a bra tonight, Joyce?”

The rough, obviously aroused way he said that only turned me on more. “Because I was hoping to meet a man who knew what he was doing.”

His other hand palmed my other hip and slid up under my blazer, finding my other nipple. I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned in and captured his mouth, flicking his lips until he let me in.

He played me like that, stealing my whimpers even as he drove me wild with want. Back and forth the silk teased me. Around and around.

Oh, and I returned the favor. Tracing, stroking, squeezing, until he suddenly pulled back with a gasp. “No more.” He blinked several times, taking deep, steadying breaths. “You have that fifty I gave you before we left?”

We’d been trading dirty texts and notes all week. The last contained a fifty dollar bill.

“Yes.”

He let out another long slow breath. “Get out first so I can walk behind you. Leave it on the bar for our tab.”

I fished the money out of my wallet and stood up. Jake stood up behind me, placing a hand on my hip. We walked up to the bar and I held up the bill. The bartender hurried over.

“Keep the change,” Hopper said, pushing me toward the elevators.

“Where are we going now?”

He hit the up button then ran his nose along the column of my neck. “To my room. I’m going to fuck you hard.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Would you like to go somewhere else?” I felt him grin. His hand splayed across my belly. “To the beach? The car?” His hand inched higher, tracing the lower curve of my breasts. He didn’t bother offering anything other sexual options.

“No. I just wondered if I got a say.”

“Not really. Your choices are hard or harder.”

For some reason that only made me wetter.

The elevator dinged and he returned his hand to my hip. Thankfully it was empty. We stepped inside. The moment the doors shut he pressed his erection against me, his fingers finding my nipples as he ground me closer to orgasm.

One, two, five, ten floors later I was shaking with need. Not satisfied but not upset either. We stumbled to his room and the moment the door opened I fell to my knees, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. I tasted him as I stripped myself naked.

Except for the skirt. “I need help with this.”

“No you don’t.” He pulled me up and pushed me into the suite. “Bend over the desk.” Then he flipped my skirt up, running his fingers over my bare ass. “Garter belts turn me on.” He snapped the left, then the right.

The sting felt good.

The other good thing was the gruff, no-nonsense way he was behaving.

“Are you always this demanding, Hopper?”

He knelt behind me and tasted me. “Yes.” Then he spread me wider, tasting me deeper. “You are so wet for me.”

I made some sort of grunting noise of approval because words were no longer a possibility. Not with his warm mouth on me.

He stood, running his cock along my skin. “This is how hard you make me. I meant what I said. I need it hard tonight. Are you ready for that?”

I whimpered a pathetically needy, “Yes. God, yes.”

Then he ran his hands up my spine, down my arms to my hands, moving them to the edge of the small desk. He lifted my torso high enough so that he could palm my breasts. “Hold on.”

I had enough warning to wrap my fingers around the desk edge before he pushed inside me just enough to wet his tip. He kneaded my breasts as he pumped deeper, only stopping when he was buried to the hilt.

It gave me a moment to adjust to his deep invasion. From this angle I could feel every inch of him. It was almost too much. It would be too much once he started moving again.

That anticipation, that knowledge this would push at my comfort zone, only made me more aroused. My core pulsed up and down his length. His fingers pinched my nipples and rolled until I was panting, pushing back against him.

That was when he released my breasts, grabbed my hips, and pulled out to the tip. “Don’t move.”

I trembled with want. “I won’t.”

He slammed home and I cried out in pleasured pain. My breasts swung against the cool desktop. He reared back and did it again. And again. Then paused deep inside me, massaging my breasts again.

“How are you doing?”

If he couldn’t tell by the way my body was clenching his cock, I guess I just had to find the words. “More.” Yes, that was probably the best single word response I could have possibly given.

“How much more?”

“Everything you have.”

His breath hitched. His hands returned to my hips.

I held on tight.

His thrusts grew faster. Wilder. I felt him everywhere. The electricity of each impact sent shockwaves out to my fingertips. I had no choice but to cry out. Holding it in wasn’t possible. I didn’t care if anyone could hear me. In fact, it kind of turned me on to think my pleasure was so exquisite it was being heard by someone else.

Maybe it was turning them on, too.

My nipples grazed the desktop over and over. Back and forth. Pleasuring me in a different way than the cock moving inside me. His fingers dug deeper as he pumped even harder, his grunts of pleasure echoing mine.

We hadn’t fucked hard like this in forever and it felt incredibly freeing to let every single doubt, worry, and inhibition go for a few minutes and just give in to my cravings.

“You feel too good. I’m going to come so hard,” he panted, slamming into me and stilling as he did exactly that. I felt every jerk of his cock, a little jealous because my orgasm was so close but so far.

But the minute he was done he put a hand in my hair and made a fist, his other hand reaching down for my clit. He pulled me up a few inches. “Touch yourself,” he said as he made quick circles of my clit. “Touch yourself until you come. I want to hear you.”

Since he was holding me in place I didn’t have to worry about bracing myself. I massaged my breasts several times then found my nipples.

That was all it took. I exploded into a powerful, electrifying orgasm. “I’m coming. Oh god, I’m coming.” I barely got the words out between waves of pleasure. My body bowed under it and Jake released my hair, helping to lower me gently onto the desk. He massaged my ass, pumping lightly as I rode it out, then collapsed.

The world was a blur after that, but I knew Jake had pulled out and cleaned us both up before wrapping me in my favorite fuzzy blanket from home and depositing me in the king-sized bed. I dozed in and out for the rest of the night.

We spent the next day doing pretty much exactly the same combination of things: meeting in unusual places, turning each other on until we couldn’t stand it, then rushing upstairs to fuck like crazy.

It was the best weekend I’d had in years.

Our last breakfast in bed had just been devoured and it was time to shower and change for the drive back. I really didn’t want this to end, but I also missed my kids.

“Thank you for this.”

He was naked and sprawled on the pillows. “I should be thanking you. I haven’t been so thoroughly fucked in ages.”

“So we’ll do it again?”

He sat up, tucking some hair behind my ear. “If this is what helps you relax, then hell yeah. We’ll be doing this again, just like we planned.”

“So next month?”

He laughed. “You already know all the details. Let the dirty text messages and notes begin.”

I think I loved getting back to that more than anything. I bounced my eyebrows. “Can you be Dr. Clooney and I’ll be Nurse Margulies.”

“You seriously still have a thing for ER even after all these years?”

I shrugged. “It was my first love.”

“I’d be hurt if I didn’t know it was like a first crush. Young, weak, and totally not my competition.”

I rolled him onto his back, running a finger down his chest. “Not for a man like you.”

“I think we can work something out for the medical conference in West Palm Beach.”

“Dirty doctor and naughty nurse?”

“As dirty and naughty as you want to be.”

Episode Two

Place: West Palm Beach Blue Resort & Spa

When: The 27th Annual Medical Unity Conference

The Kids: Spending the weekend with their grandparents.

 

“Oh. My. God!” Jake grunted as my tongue swirled. It was lunchtime and the hotel lobby was filled with doctors, nurses, executives, and . . . lawyers. I ran into the good “doctor” and after some terrible medical banter convinced him to come up to my room.

We barely made it inside the heavy door before I was on my knees unzipping his dress slacks and pulling his erection into my mouth. I never stopped craving the power I felt when I made him come undone and adding role-play to it?

So hot.

In my hands he was familiar and comforting but in my mind he was a stranger I picked up at a conference. What we were doing was brash and anonymous. Impulsive.

I had his cock at the back of my throat because I wanted it there. No other reason. Not because it was Saturday and we hadn’t had sex all week. Not because we were trying to be quiet. Not because we were going through the motions.

These weekends away were about having no responsibilities other than to find pleasure in each other.

And right now, with his hands fisted in my hair, his pants open just enough for me to gain entrance, I was absolutely finding a great deal of pleasure.

He pulled free, panting but not satisfied. He glanced at his heavy silver watch. “We only have thirty minutes.”

My sex clenched in anticipation. I stood up, still fully clothed and wearing heels. I pressed into him, his erection trapped between us. “Then why did you stop me?” I whispered against his lips.

He kissed me hard, his hands back in my hair.

“Because,” he growled, “I want to be buried inside you when I come.”

Suddenly I was seated on top of the desk, my legs pushed apart as he knelt in front of me. I never bothered with pants on these weekends. It was all skirts all the time. Easy access. And right now as Jake hooked my panties out of the way and danced a finger across my folds I vowed to never wear pants ever again.

He teased me, coaxing me closer and closer to orgasm, his moves nothing new but somehow looking down at him fully clothed made it all seem so urgent. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He grunted, looking wildly around the room. “I need you on top of me. Bed?”

“Why not?”

He shimmied his pants down just enough to give me free access to his cock. I dropped my panties on my suitcase and straddled him. His hands tested my breasts, then he reached beneath my blouse and unclasped the front hooks, freeing them. “Yes,” he hissed as his palms made contact with my skin.

As he massaged, the fabric moved along my nipples, making them sensitive and my core wetter. I took him in my hand and guided him right where I wanted him. I didn’t ask for permission. I took what I wanted and what I wanted was to be filled.

Inch by glorious inch he stretched me wide until I was wild with abandon. We moved together, practiced and yet still somehow too frantic to be that graceful.

His needs took over and he gripped my hips, but that wasn’t enough. His hand snaked around and under my hips, taking complete control now. He set the rhythm, thrusting up while pulling me down, the intensity of the impact so much greater. I desperately clutched at the headboard above him to stay upright, rolling my hips to find the friction I needed. My breasts naturally wound up in his face.

So much fabric between us.

He nuzzled anyway.

He hooked a hand over the top of the low collar and used it as a handle, slamming into me from below, over and over.

And over and over.

I pulled my breasts over the top, putting them on display. There was just enough room for my nipples to spring free, the rest still trapped by the constrained fabric.

“Holy fucking shit you are so hot,” Jake moaned.

Since he had such a good handle on my body from my shirt to his arm around my hips, I let go of the headboard and played with my peaks. My sex immediately clenched around his steel plunging inside me, fluttering and squeezing. I threw my head back, my hair dangling down to his legs.

He was using my body and I couldn’t have been happier.

Every thrust stretched me all over again. His girth much more than my natural resting state. The sensation was electric. The pressure of his arm around me and his hand on my shirt, desperately pulling our bodies together gave the illusion of being bound. It cranked the intensity up a notch.

But also having the freedom to pleasure myself?

It was all the best things.

So I relished every second of it. I gave my body to him and got lost in the sensation of being filled, then emptied, only to feel the rush of him entering me with even more force all over again. I circled my soft pink peaks, feeling them harden by my own touch. The edge of the shirt fabric pressed along their edges and I used my fingernails to scrape the tips, pressing them against the fabric line.

My hips jerked in time with my fingers.

When I couldn’t hold out any longer I took them between my index finger and thumb, pinching lightly at first, enjoying each zing that shot from my fingers to my sex, moaning as my muscles responded to the play by squeezing his cock tight inside me.

“Oh god,” he whispered, clearly nearing the edge of his sanity.

This was the part I lived for. The power that came from pleasuring Jake in ways he didn’t expect, knowing that I was the one blowing his mind, all while my own body hummed.

He suddenly stopped, his cock buried so deep inside me I opened my mouth, gasping for air in reaction to the impact. That was when I realized my whole body was trembling, my skin slick with sweat and so hot it felt like it was burning. My sex was swollen and desperate for release. His cock throbbed inside me. I could feel the changes, the kicks as it sought out that final release.

My inner muscles spasmed without pattern. I didn’t stop playing with my nipples. “I’m so close,” I gasped, rolling them hard then up the very tips where they were still very sensitive.

“Look at me,” he growled.

Oh god. Slowly I raised my head up and when our eyes locked? Oh god didn’t begin to cover it. I could feel his gaze everywhere, as if his hands had somehow moved beneath my skin and were now touching me everywhere.

“Catch your breath.”

I took several deep breaths, rolling the tips of my nipples between the soft pads of my fingers one last time, teasing until I could feel the tip of my clit burn and pulse. Then released them.

“Do not look away.”

Oh god. . . I nodded and braced myself.

He licked his lips. He took his damn time. Then . . . he raised me up, using his arm around my hips. His fingers tightened around my shirt. The hot air of his heavy breaths hit my sensitized nipples. He waited. My empty sex clenched, seeking and not finding the cock it wanted. The throb grew more painful the longer he left me empty. Blood rushed to fill the space.

Then ever so slowly he eased me down. I sank onto his cock. Except this time there was less room for his girth. I was oh so swollen and he had to wait for my body to expand again, to somehow find a way to let him back in. The stretch was almost as shocking as when he first filled me.

With his eyes still locked on mine he leaned forward and licked my nipple with the tip of his tongue, then he opened his mouth wide and enveloped the entire thing in his warm mouth, applying soft, maddening suction.

My inner muscles clamped down on what he’d managed to slide back inside me and we both let out a moan. He didn’t release my nipple as he raised me back up an inch, then lowered me even further. I slid down, down, down his length all while he sucked and swirled his tongue.

I knew what came next and I craved it every bit as much as I worried if could handle it.

He switched to my other nipple, giving it the same careful attention he had the last one. He opened his mouth wide, he sucked softly, he teased with a flat tongue.

Every muscle in my body tensed in need and anticipation. I was a spring wound tight and there was only one way Jake would release it. Up I went again, his arm holding me high, his other wrapped so tight around my shirt his knuckles had turned white. He broke the connection with my breast with a pop.

And slammed me down onto his cock as he surged up with his hips, coming off the bed completely. The impact took my breath away. I gasped for air as every cell in my body vibrated. My orgasm ripped through me. The pleasure of his steel rod slamming up and inside me over and over, spreading me wide even as my muscles clamped down around him, was brilliant in its pain.

I came that hard.

He hammered into me, forcing me to come over and over again, refusing to let up. I dug my nails into his shoulders. My thighs squeezed together. I couldn’t breathe but I also couldn’t stop.

Not under the relentless thrusts of my weekend lover. He grunted loudly, every muscle in his body straining to keep going. His eyes grew dark and wild as he watched me come. His jaw ticked. His neck and shoulder muscles tensed.

And then finally he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He cried out, throwing his head back in pleasure that looked every bit as painful as my own.

* * *

“Are you seriously making me watch this?” Jake groaned.

We had room service everywhere, were freshly showered, and watching ER. “Yes. I love George Clooney. It was my favorite series when I was just a budding adult.”

He chuckled. “It was a good show. I just didn’t expect to be watching it a decade later on a sexcatation weekend with my wife.”

“I’m not your wife. I’m the naughty nurse you picked up in the lobby.” I bounced my eyebrows. Even though we had fun with our game it was enough for the weekend and it was kind of nice to just be us again.

“It’s too bad you’re not my wife. I happen to know how much she loves a good foot rub.” His fingers danced along to top of my foot.

“Well if a foot run is on the line . . . ” I wiggled my toes. “I suppose I could be your wife again.”

“Good.” He kissed the inside of my arch. “I kind of missed her.”

“Is this too much?” I expected him to reach his limit at some point.

“Naw. But maybe next month we can do something a little different?” There was a sparkle to his eyes I really quite liked.

“Sure. You can plan the whole thing if you like.”

“Oh darlin’. You know what you do to me when you say things like that.”

I did. Which is why I said it. “So what are we going to do?”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “All you need to know is that it will be very relaxing.”

Episode 3

Netflix and Chill Part 1

I carefully slid the lock on my office door as I turned the specially delivered envelope over in my hand. One word was handwritten across the front.

Jake.

I still found it a little hard to breathe when my wife sent me these. The possibilities for what was inside were endless. It could be simple and sweet or downright explicit. The anticipation of knowing I held a complete surprise in my hands only made it more exciting.

Which was why I locked the damn office door. Both of them. I didn’t need Greg popping in from the factory floor, swearing like a sailor, while I was imagining seven different ways to make my wife come.

I popped the seal and removed the interior envelope.

Always so cautious.

Which meant this was on the dirtier end of the notes-spectrum.

Yes.

I popped the seal on the interior envelope and slid out the fine linen card. Inside I found Eve’s distinctive, scrawling handwriting. My heart hammered a little harder than normal.

 

Husband,

This morning in the shower I was stopped by memories of the way you bathed me last weekend. I love the way you can make something as simple as a shower at home so sensual. So special.

This weekend I’d like a repeat of the way you soaped up my skin.

The way you ran your large hands over my body.

The way your lips teased me while you touched me.

If it’s not too much trouble. In return I am willing to forget I own underwear.

Love,

Your Wife

  

Yep. I was hard as a rock. The shower seemed to be the only place we could get any alone time lately. If it wasn’t a daughter demanding attention, it was one of our friends who tended to think our front and back door shouldn’t have locks. At least in the shower no one barged in.

I may have indulged all my pent up sexual needs from the week all at once. I didn’t regret it and now that I knew Eve was just as satisfied with the way I’d taken care of her?

Well, I should probably write her back.

Wife,

I will happily relive those memories by repeating them in the shower this weekend, but prepare yourself. There is also a very large, very decadent bath that I plan to pleasure you in repeatedly.

And while we’re on the subject of this weekend, here’s your packing list:

 Bathing suit

Robe

Flip-flops

 You’ll need nothing else.

Love,

Your Husband

I was hard just thinking about the cabana I’d rented in the Keys. A private resort island just off of Mistletoe Key. Our weekends of role-playing were a very welcome relief to our busy lives, but this weekend I was giving it the twist I needed. Instead of disappearing into a sea of strangers at a conference we would be alone, pretending to be the well-off couple we forgot we were sometimes. We could afford the cabana, the weekend away, the specially delivered meals, the expensive champagne. All of it.

We rarely lived our lives that way, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t indulge from time to time. Stop and pretend to be members of the carefree rich and famous. Rent a fucking expensive, private, exclusive hut on an island in the Keys and spend our days naked and alone.

I even arranged for the girls to spend an extra night with June and Roman so we could get away early.

Speaking of which. . .

PS: Pack early. We’re leaving Friday morning. In the Beast.

* * *

Friday morning we sent the girls off the school with hugs and smiles, then piled into my old, restored orange Bronco. I’d removed the top in college, replacing it with a soft canopy. Even though Greg and some of the engineers from work had helped me replace parts and modify it to be more fuel efficient, the thing still sucked gas like a hog.

And I didn’t care. Because this weekend was a fantasy and gas didn’t matter. Since I didn’t drive the Beast every day I was doing a quick check of everything—tires, oil, water—when my drop-dead gorgeous wife emerged from the house in a simple pair of blue shorts, a white UPF shirt, a braid down her back, and a blue Mantas ball cap on her head. A small black duffle hung from her left hand while her right popped her favorite pair of sunglasses over her eyes.

“I’m ready!”

I slammed the hood shut. “Did you pack what I asked you to?”

She smiled a very conspiratorial smile that had my dick at half-staff. “Of course. Bathing suit, sundress, robe,” then she held up her foot, “flip flops.”

I leaned closer, brushed my lips over her soft cheek before growling in her ear, “I didn’t say anything about a sundress.”

She shrugged, leaning into my lips. “You also didn’t say anything about lingerie, toiletries, or vibrators, and yet I packed them anyway.”

I smacked her lightly on her ass. “Load up, you rebel you.”

She dropped her bag into the back next to mine where I also had a small cooler nestled. A minute later we were backing out of the driveway and headed south, the wind in our hair, the sun our skin, and no responsibilities to anyone but each other.

It was a very long drive down to the Keys but we made the most of it, going all the way south to US 41 instead of the faster, more heavily traveled Interstate 75. This was we got to stop and enjoy the beauty of the Everglades.

We ate sandwiches as we looked out over the endless, flat sea of grass. Even though I lived in the state my whole life I didn’t see the Everglades until I was in college. My parents didn’t do things like that. So it still amazed me to see it. “I always feel like this must be what the savannah in Africa is looks like.”

Eve smiled up at me. The breeze moved through the grasses like a wave. “It’s so quiet even though it’s not.”

There was only the passing sound of another car from time to time. No buzz of electricity. No noises except the wind through the grass and the sounds of nature.

She set down her sandwich and turned towards me in the seat. “We camped out here in middle school and it was such a different experience, this lack of sound,” she waved her hand through the air, “that I can still remember the things I heard like it was yesterday. They just. . . they’re permanently etched in my brain because of how stark the experience was, you know?”

But I didn’t know. Things like this? I didn’t do things like this as a kid. “Like what?” I said instead of reminding us both of how very different my childhood was from hers.

She shrugged. “Well, this. The wind through the grass. We did a night hike.” Her eyes unfocused as she went back through her memories. “We went slough slogging out and sat quietly in the dark listening to crickets and frogs until a panther came close enough for us to hear her cry.” Then she laughed. “We went slough slogging a lot for field trips but it’s this one in the Everglades that I can’t forget. Walking back in the dark, soaking wet, and all I hear is that sucking sound your sneakers make when they’re drenched. You know, that suck, suck, suck noise as you step and air goes in and then you step down and squeeze it and the water out?”

She shuddered but she was also grinning from ear-to-ear, so I assumed the memory was a mix of happiness and discomfort. “What else?”

She rolled her lip between her teeth and for split second I forgot we were reminiscing on her childhood because all I could think about was pulling that lip between my teeth.

“I remember the way the platform tent we slept in was so big and quiet, but it also had this musty smell. I remember how easy it was to hear every screech of the hawks. Hurricane Andrew went through a few months later and covered that area in garbage. We were driving through here on the way to the Keys the next spring so we got to see what a hurricane could do. We drove through tent city, too.”

I saw the light in her eyes change so I took her hand in mine. “We’ve gotten a little too much first hand knowledge of hurricanes in our lifetime.” Then I packed our lunch up and kissed my wife. “That’s enough reminiscing. Time to enjoy the drive and make new memories.”

She was quiet for a long time, but not melancholy. Mostly she just smiled as she stared out at the landscape. Then we made the turn south and finally caught the distinctive scent of salt water.

The moment we crossed onto the first bridge she threw her hands up and out and her head back. “Hello paradise! I’ve missed you.”

“It has been a while.” The trip was just long enough that you had to plan for it and with two little girls those plans needed to be good, so it had been longer than either of us would have like since our last trip.

“So blue out here,” she sighed. “I like that it’s so different from the Gulf.”

Bridge after bridge, we hopped our way down the islands to our resort. Check-in was quick and painless and then . . . and then I was finally alone with the woman I loved in a fantasy I’d had for a very, very long time.

“This is amazing!” She stood on the edge of our private cabana looking out at the water. “Why here? Why this?” She turned and began stripping off her shirt.

It was a good question. One I needed to explain. I left the four-poster bed draped in white mosquito netting and walked over, brushed my hand along her cheek, pressed her back into the wooden door frame. “The last few months have been about your fantasies. About letting go and being young again. This is mine.”

I ran my thumb along her lower lip, dragging it down slightly. Just enough to part her lips. Then I cupped her chin and tilted her face up to mine for a kiss.

Just one. I needed to feel her.

“In college, working on the Beast, I had this vision of us after graduation, when we’d both have careers and money, that we’d hop in that hunk of junk and drive down here for a weekend escape. No worries because we wouldn’t have any. We’d be successful, stable. No nasty pasts dragging our emotions through the mud. We’d come down here and explore the islands, eat seafood, and make love all night long in a big bed. Every afternoon we’d swim and I’d get to hold the most beautiful woman in the world as she floated in the water next to me. That was my fantasy. That’s what we’re doing this weekend.”

It was still hard even after all these years to confess things like this. It was a soul-deep piece of me that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remove. Deep down under all my layers of accomplishment and happiness I would always be—in a very small way—the boy who didn’t have a childhood.

I went a little weak in the knees as she gazed up at me with the only thing I truly needed in my life. Her love. That was it.

“Fantasies come in all shapes and sizes,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to my lips. My heart kicked up a little faster. “I’m happy to fulfill yours.” Her hands slid up my chest and around my neck, pressing her body into mine. “There was some mention of making love all night?”

Aw, hell. I was done. I crashed my lips down on hers and braced her back with my hands as I crushed her against the doorframe. The jolt sent pain up my arms but I didn’t care. “It was a long drive. We could use some exercise before dinner.”

My shirt disappeared about the same time I got rid of her shorts and bam we were back on the bed, her on top of me as she kissed her way down, down, down. My mind went blank when her mouth wrapped around my cock and sucked.

Warm. So warm. Soft and wet, and all I wanted to do was thrust into it. To have more of it. To be inside her.

I flipped us, prowling up her body, sizing up her soft curves and debating how I wanted her first—there would be oh, so much of this for the next two days.

“Next we’re going swimming. After dinner I’m bathing you in that tub.” I cocked my head to the left. The cabanas weren’t much more than a single room. Mostly bed, really. Tucked into an alcove was a very large, very deep freestanding tub with a handshower attached to the side. I’d make her come every imaginable way this weekend.

But first . . .

I nudged her thighs further apart and sank into her.

“Jake,” she sighed, head back.

The sound of her voice calling my name turned me on and my dick twitched, trying to get inside her faster. Here. It kept screaming up at me. But this was my favorite part so I ignored it. The feel of her body opening to me, the first overwhelming sensations of pleasure. There was nothing like it.

When I was buried balls-deep I stopped and took a breath.

“Jake. You feel so good.” Her hands ran up my back.

“So do you, Darlin’.” Knowing the windows and door were all open, that the breeze washing over us was from the outside, that we had just the right amount of privacy to be naked together, only added to how badly I wanted I wanted to make her scream. “Promise me you’ll be loud.”

“All weekend. I promise.”

Just to be sure I backed up a little and ran my tongue over the swell of her breast, around and, finally, sucking the tip into my mouth. I played because I liked it. The skin was softer than anywhere but between her thighs, except here things changed. Her nipples grew swollen and erect between my tongue and my teeth. I loved feeling the changes, knowing I was the one who caused them.

I didn’t stop until her legs clamped around my hips, bucking for friction. “Oh god, Jake . . . ”

It wasn’t a scream but it was loud and it would do. I slammed home, rising up high on my hands. I watched my dick disappear inside her over and over again. Kept up my pace until she flushed and her legs trembled.

When my skin began to tingle I knew I was close. “Let me hear you, Eve.” Her breath came in little pants and then it hit, her inner muscles squeezing me hard, erratically, cranking all that electricity up until it sizzled and shot like lighting through me and into her. I buried myself deep and hard in my favorite place, letting all that need spill inside my wife.


Episode 4 

 

After the sun set and we’d made thorough use of the bed—again—we did our second favorite thing. We curled up in bed and binge watched a show for hours without the interruption of two little girls who “couldn’t sleep.”

No glasses of water. No bathroom trips. No nightmares (despite only being back in bed for three minutes and twelve seconds.)

Just a projector above the bed, a screen on the opposite wall, and my naked wife snuggled into my side. Our current drug of choice? Peaky Blinders.

“If these accents get any thicker we’re going to have to turn the closed captioning on,” Eve said as she stretched.

Her breasts slid out from under the sheet and I forgot what she said immediately. All I saw was soft skin begging to be touched. So I did. I particularly enjoyed rubbing my thumb back and forth across the outside. It was just so soft. And it made my entire body relax.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you turn the closed captioning on?”

Oh that’s right. She’d said something about that, hadn’t she? I kissed the spot my thumb had been brushing and very reluctantly reached for the remote.

“You know if you didn’t need to be master of the television I could have turned on the closed captioning and you wouldn’t look so sad right now.”

At this point in our marriage we’d decided there were certain personality quirks that simply weren’t worth fighting over. Eve had to have the fan on to sleep. Okay fine. I had to have the remote.

Although I was seriously reconsidering that particular quirk. “Here. You can keep it for the rest of the weekend.” And then I dove under the sheet and burrowed between my two favorite mountains while she laughed and stroked my hair. It was only when the giggles faded that I realized how quiet the room was.

“I paused it,” she said, sensing, as she always did, the question on my mind.

“Wouldn’t want to miss any long Thomas Shelby looks.”

“Or a good fight,” she whispered, the faintest Birmingham accent on her lips.

“Or a good sex scene.” I kissed her, nuzzled behind her ear where her long hair tickled my skin, and just held her close. Because damn, it felt good to simply have my skin against hers. As much as possible.

Never enough.

There was something so calming about skin-to-skin contact. Clothes were stupid. “Why do we ever wear clothes? We’re missing out on so much.”

She burrowed into me, her breasts soft against my chest, her thighs around mine. “It makes times like this more intense. If we did this all the time would we know how good this felt?”

She had a point. Not a good one, but a point nevertheless. “And why do we go to work? All that time apart when we could be together . . . touching . . . so good.” I nuzzled some more and she burrowed again.

“You like your work,” she reminded me. “What would Greg do without you to keep him from swearing everyone to death?”

It was true my job was at least twenty-five percent managing my partner. Of course that was also fun . . . so not really work. “I do like my job, but I like you better.”

She rolled onto her back and smiled up at me. “Clearly.” She traced a line down my pectoral. I liked it when she did that. It always made me feel good—that she was drawn to the places that made us different, that made me a man. I captured that hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “How do you feel about watching Thomas Shelby from the bath?”

She ground her hips against mine and smiled. “I’ll get the wine.”

*****

I hope you enjoyed the first four installments of Caught in the Rain with Jake and Eve. They’ll be back this fall with more hijinks. Next up: a brand new, very special serial. You’ve never met these characters before. I’ve never told this story. Newsletter subscribers are getting it first before it goes anywhere else. Episodes start next Tuesday and will release every Tuesday after that.