I snort as he pulls me close, swaying us slowly now. His forehead rests against mine, his smile softening. The sunset burns behind him, outlining his silhouette in gold as the wind tosses his hair across his eyes. He looks so alive. So bright. Like he’s made of wildfire and music and reckless joy.
He’s the love of my life.
My chest aches with how much he means to me. Around us, voices rise as other people sing along, laughter carrying across the cliffs. For a few perfect minutes, it feels like the entire world is suspended in this moment—strangers united by music, sunset, and salt air.
Then the sun finally disappears. Applause ripples through the crowd as people gather their things, pointing toward the wall of dark clouds rolling closer. The wind is colder now with thepromise of rain. Within minutes, the cliff begins to empty. Soon, it’s just us.
The first raindrop lands on my cheek. Then another.
Jude tilts his face toward the sky like he’s greeting an old friend. The rain starts as a soft mist before turning into a steady drizzle, dampening his hair and darkening his hoodie.
“Babe,” I warn, laughing nervously as droplets soak through my dress. “We should probably—”
The sky opens. Rain crashes down in a sudden, drenching sheet.
“Jude!” I shriek, grabbing his hand and tugging toward the parking lot. “Hurry!”
He doesn’t move. Instead, he pulls me back, laughter bursting out of him, loud and wild and completely unbothered by the storm soaking us to the bone.
“You’re insane!” I shout over the rain.
“But you love that about me! When life hands you beautiful moments, you embrace them.”
Before I can argue with his constant witty and corny philosophies, he kisses me. It’s messy and breathless, and rainwater drips down both our faces as his hands cup my jaw, pulling me closer. Thunder rumbles somewhere over the ocean, vibrating through the ground beneath our feet. My fingers fist into his soaked shirt as I kiss him back, tasting rain and salt and him.
“Car,” I mumble against his mouth, half laughing. "I don't want to get struck by lightning."
“Fine,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t let go right away.
We sprint through the downpour, shoes splashing through puddles, both of us slipping and nearly crashing into the Xterra as he fumbles with the keys. We tumble into the back seat, laughter echoing inside the cramped space. Rain pounds againstthe roof in a deafening rhythm, windows fogging instantly from our heat.
“You look like a drowned raccoon,” he laughs, brushing soaked hair out of my face.
“Well,” I gasp. “You look worse.”
“You have the most terrible comebacks, you know.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling as I swing my leg over his lap, straddling him. His hand suddenly finds the back of my neck, pulling me into another passionate kiss. His other arm wraps around me, keeping me anchored in his lap. His lips are so soft and perfect that I whimper into his mouth.
His hands move down, pushing the soaked fabric of my dress higher. His fingers find the clasp of my bra at the back, fumbling for a second before it gives way. The straps go slack, but he doesn’t pull it off. He just pushes the neckline of my dress and the cups down, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, already hard and sensitive from the cold and the closeness.
A soft sigh escapes me. I shift on his lap, feeling the hard ridge of him pressing insistently against me through his jeans. The denim is rough and wet. I grind down, rolling my hips, and he lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the car seat.
“Emma,” he murmurs, his eyes closing for a second. When they open, the hazel is dark, intense. “Here? You sure?”
“Yes,” I whisper, leaning in to capture his mouth with mine. This kiss is different from all the others. It’s slow. Deep. His tongue slides against mine, a lazy, exploring dance that sends warmth pooling low in my belly.
His hands leave my breasts, moving to the hem of my dress. He gathers the wet fabric in his fists and pulls, tugging it up and over my head. The movement is awkward in the cramped backseat, our elbows bumping the windows, but we don’t stop kissing. The dress ends up in a soggy heap on the seat beside us. The cool air raises goosebumps along my skin. His hands areeverywhere then, smoothing over my shoulders, my back, my ass.
He breaks the kiss, his lips traveling down my neck, sucking at the pulse point there. His teeth graze my skin, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his damp, tousled hair. He mouths his way lower, over my collarbone, until his lips close over one nipple.
The sensation is incredible. His mouth is hot and wet, his tongue circling the tight peak before he bites hard. A sharp cry leaves my lips, lost in the sound of the rain. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, his hands holding my hips steady as I writhe above him.
I can’t wait. My hands fly to his belt buckle, my fingers clumsy with need. I get it open, the metal clinking softly. The button of his jeans. The zipper. I shove the denim down over his hips, just enough. He helps, lifting his hips to push them lower. His boxers follow, freeing himself.
I wrap my hand around him, stroking from base to tip, feeling him jump in my grip. He hisses, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, baby.”
I position myself above him, one hand braced on the seat behind his head. I look down, meeting his gaze. The storm flashes outside, lighting his face in brief, stark relief—the sharp line of his jaw, the dark intensity in his eyes. I lower myself, slowly, taking just the head of his cock inside me.