Page 73 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
‘Magdalen, it’s a beach, baby. Look around. You’re probably the most covered person here.’
‘Okay, baby.’ Magdalen steps closer and tentatively runs her fingernails across the skin exposed at the bottom of my shirt. I shiver, leaning my hips forward unconsciously to get more of her touch. ‘Then get this off.’
I lift my hands up above my head and wait. ‘I’m afraid I’ll need help.’ My voice is tight, full of need. Not wanting to scare her off, I clear my throat to lessen my blatant desire for her, but it does nothing.
Magdalen giggles and that familiar hunger grows. For all her giggles.
‘Okay, I think I can help.’ Her hands explore underneath my shirt, fingers running gently along the seam of my shorts. I let out an exhale, willing myself to control the hardness already forming. Trying to find the will to be embarrassed, but I find I’m too entranced by her to care. Her fingers remain low and after a moment she dips one into my waistband.
‘Ehm.’ I force my eyes upwards to not look at her hands inside my shorts, almost positive that if I do look, Magdalen will definitely be able to see how hard I already am. ‘Shirt is the other way,’ I gasp, trying to adjust myself discreetly.
‘Oops, sorry.’ I hear her smiling and find myself joining her. ‘This is why I don’t drive. My direction skills are fucked.’
‘It’s a common mistake. Up, down. Could happen to anyone.’
Her hands are everywhere. First taking the fabric of my shirt, she wanders up my stomach, then drags it further up to my ribs. I take a slow breath out, never having such a reaction to someone just touching my skin. But everything feels different with her, new. Her touch means more. She steps closer, our toes overlapping in the sand, hips brushing against one another briefly, and I thin my lips to stop from moaning.
‘You’re too big,’ she says while trying to tug the shirt over my shoulders. Her words cause a spike of adrenaline to shoot down my spine and directly to my dick. Jesus Christ.
‘You’re doing this on purpose,’ I mumble through the shirt now stuck over my mouth, certain my erection is entirely visible through my shorts.
‘No! It’s really stuck,’ she says, laughing, her stomach pressing up against mine as she continues to try to pull it off.
‘My god, Magdalen. Stop talking.’ I think of anything to not think of her underneath me, squirming and naked, whispering those same words for something very different.
‘Okay, okay. I got it.’ The shirt slips off my head and while she’s turning it inside out, I take the opportunity to adjust myself again. Am I fifteen fucking years old?
When she looks up from the shirt debacle, her eyes zone in on my hands trying to hide how hard I am and she bites down on her lip.
‘Sorry,’ I say, feeling guilty for my blatant display of arousal on a public beach.
‘I did that?’ She tilts her head, examining my body like a statue at the museum.
‘Eh, yes, Magdalen. That usually happens when the girl I like slips her fingers near my dick.’
‘Huh,’ she muses. ‘I never thought I’d be able to seduce anyone.’
‘You should give yourself more credit, then. You do it all the time to me.’
‘You’re right.’ She smiles cheerfully, looking like she’s made of magic. ‘I really should.’
She throws my shirt on top of her sarong and begins jogging down to the water. I give up trying to hide myself when I look at her ass moving as she runs.
‘Shit,’ I say, taking a deep breath before running after her.
41
MAGDALEN
I dip my head in the warm water, listening to the steady acoustics of the ocean. I try not to think about Theo’s disgustingly beautiful body, how easy I was to forgive and indulge in him. I try not to think about how I’m going to have sex with him, but it’s a futile attempt. I always assumed my first time, at this stage in my life, would be out of necessity. Because I’ve reached unacceptable virgin territory. I had a plan to finish Emily’s secret gin that she hides in her underwear drawer and have her set me up with someone who was only interested in a one-night thing. I would close my eyes and think of England, resigning myself to the inevitable pain and discomfort of that night, the ultimate regret the next morning.
But now things have changed. The pain I’ve been preparing for is rearranging itself into giddy anticipation. Into curiosity. A dark part of myself thinks that if Theo is the one hurting me, I’ll enjoy it more than I won’t. When I come up for air, I realize I’ve swum further out than I thought. Anika and Dante are far away, just two dots bobbing in and out of the waves. Turning around to find Theo, I squint through the salt water to see him close behind. His biceps look intimidatingly contoured in the water as he paddles towards me and I gulp, nerves anchoring me in place.
‘Trying to swim away?’ he says through strokes, and it’s all too effortless for him, swimming and talking. God really does have favourites.
‘Don’t think I could ever out-swim you, to be fair.’
‘I’d let you, if you wanted me to,’ he says, only a few feet away from me now. If he reached out his hand he could touch me. But he stays in place, treading calmly in that spot.
