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some part of my brain grasped for maturity, responsibility, and wanted to understand why she was making herself so available, so willing, why she was so free. Nothing added up or made sense.

She wrapped her fingers around me and stroked while answering my question. “My mom encouraged me to get one. Said they are far more reliable than any other form of birth control.” I moaned once more as her grip tightened. “I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years. And they tested me at my most recent annual check-up. What about you?”

My head fell back on the pillow, lost in the wonders of those fingers. Me? God. “Longer than two years. Fuck.” Her thumb pressed around my crown, then she kissed and licked it. I groaned, lifting my head to watch her. “It’s been a really long time. And I always used a condom.”

My answer must have been all she needed. She positioned herself over my cock and slid down, ever so slowly, groaning as she claimed me, inch by inch. Fuck. She felt so good, so tight, absolute perfection. She moved up and down, rocking her hips at times. I reached forward to fondle her breasts and tease her taut nipples. She placed her thumb on her mound and pressed, closing her eyes and moaning as she used me and her own hand simultaneously to bring herself to the edge.

“Fuck, Luna.”

Her lips lifted into a sexy little smile. She tilted her head to her shoulder, and those lips formed an “oh” as she stilled, quivering over me as her body milked my cock.

I flipped her on her back and drove in, taking over, unleashed, skin on skin.

I used her body all afternoon. I took her from behind, against the wall, on her side. My finger found her pearl and experimented with rubbing and pinching and pounding, learning her body and what would make her scream, elicit a moan, or send her body into quivers.

She unleashed a part of me I’d locked down and barricaded away. As the sun set, I pulled her into the shower to clean off the sweat and the stench of sex. My stomach growled, reminding me we hadn’t eaten lunch.

The water from the walk-in shower sprayed cold. She squealed, and I captured her against the white tile, using my body to shield her until the water warmed. I kissed her, slowly and deeply. Sated. A relaxed calm fell over my muscles. The water warmed, and I soaped her up, washing every inch with care. We took turns. I massaged her scalp and worked conditioner through her tangles, and she returned the favor. I discovered the three tiny sea turtles gliding up the back of her neck, in full color, seemingly swimming into her hair.

“Nice art. Where’d you get it?”

“Miami. Scheduled the artist, like, months in advance. What about you? Where’d you get yours?”

“Rhode Island. College on a dare.” I tapped the shark on my right bicep, then tapped the left bicep, the compass and the globe. “Bangkok. I saw it on a wall, and it spoke to me. I thought it would remind me…”

“Of what?” She kissed the curve of my bicep on the bottom of the globe through the warm shower stream.

“Direction. Of what I wanted.” The temperature of the water cooled, no doubt a sign the water heater ran low. I lifted her arm and fingered the script. “I like this. I get it.”

“I’d imagine you do.” She smiled and stepped out of the shower, passed me a towel, then wrapped one around her dripping wet body.

She picked her clothes up off the floor and dressed in front of me. Not once did she try to hide her body in shame. I found a clean pair of board shorts and covered myself. I stepped up behind her and helped her with the double-wide clasp on her bikini top, then moved her hair out of the way and traced kisses along her shoulder and up her neck, following the turtles etched on her skin.

She spun around and beamed up at me. “That was fun.”

She practically skipped downstairs, and I followed at a lumbering pace, my mind blown.

She fixed us sandwiches from the limited options in my fridge, and when we finished eating and she announced she needed to go check the cages, she wiggled her fingers to wave goodbye.

Dazed, I watched the door close. What the hell just happened?

Chapter 14

Luna

“Tell me about Greenpeace.”

The moonlight lit the way along the beach, reflecting on the dark, swirling ocean. We were only a few days away from a full moon.

“What do you want to know? You’re a marine biologist. Surely they’ve already canvassed the University of Florida with information.”

“Obviously. I know about the organization. But you worked for them. And you went abroad. What was it like?” I squeezed his fingers, and he lifted our linked hands. He ran a thumb along a vein on the back of my hand, then flipped my hand over and traced the long lines. I thought he might tell me something about my lifeline.

“Greenpeace is a mammoth, worldwide organization. There’s so much going on, so many projects, sometimes from the lower levels, it can feel a bit like there’s a shotgun approach, so many issues and not enough resources to do anything effectively. So, that can be frustrating. But it’s filled with people who genuinely want to make the world a better place. Many volunteer, work for free.”

“Were you one of those people who stood outside on the street with clipboards?” My question earned a grin.

“I did that in college. Those are usually volunteers.”

He stopped walking and pulled me to him. He took a loose strand of hair, flying sideways in the ocean breeze, and tucked it behind my ear. His fingers traced my neckline and curved around my chin, tilting my head up to his.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

In the night sky, his eyes were dark. I stroked along the strong outline of his jaw. I

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