Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(49)

Suddenly, the sensation of more being inside is noticed, and the muscles in my vagina clamp down around him. My hips thrust down onto Joe’s oncoming hand each time it lifts up. Barely able to breathe, my body is abruptly hit by an orgasm.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he hums into my hear as my body convulses and my voice screams its satisfaction.

“Don’t . . . stop,” I request, despite feeling my legs shake.

Joe steps in to steady himself better which causes his hand to strike a different part of my insides, eliciting another release inside me almost instantaneously. I whimper when he removes B.O.B., but even more so when he removes his hand. Joe uses his body to support me until my body stops trembling. He spins me to face him, cups my face, and immediately takes my mouth.

Joe stares at me, smiling almost like he’s gloating. I bite my lip to stifle a grin, but his joyful confidence is infectious.

My eyes fall upon his cock. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he argues.

“You said that last time, and . . .” I begin.

“And, nothing,” he corrects, cutting me off.

“And you’ve only had one to my three,” I rationalize.

Joe shakes his head, trying to end the conversation.

My bottom lip curls under.

“Don’t pout,” he sweetly requests.

“Why? Is it working?”

Laughing, Joe says, “No. It’s not working.”

“Well, then what are we going to do?”

“About what?” he says confused.

“About your erection?” My hands reach forward, but Joe blocks it.

“Stop pouting,” Joe directs.

“No.”

He pulls me into him and kisses me. “If we’re going to run and meet my parents on time, we better go soon.”

“Shit,” I blurt.

“What?”

“I forgot they were here too,” I sheepishly confess.

“Why don’t we run later?” he suggests.

“Okay,” I confirm, wanting more time to be composed and ready to meet up with them.

“Why don’t you shower and I take Sadie out? I don’t doubt she’s dying to pee and is hungry,” he kindly offers.

“You sure?”

“Yes, beautiful,” he replies, stealing a kiss.

“Thank you.”

Joe delivers another long peek before leaving me. “Where does B.O.B. go?”

“Just leave him there on the counter, I’ll get him when I’m out,” I instruct.

Joe states moments later, “Found it.”

I cringe knowing he’s seen half the gang in the bag.

“Nice collection,” he mentions, practically scaring me when he opens the shower door.

“Thanks,” I reply.

“Take your time, we’ll be back in a few,” he mentions. Joe leans in for a kiss.

I offer my lips to his eagerly. “Thanks.”

Joe and Sadie make it back to my room just as I get the menstrual cup inside me. My heart beats a little faster at the sight of Joe. The morning shadow on his face, the way his tee shirt hugs his body and the light fragrance of sweat coming from him is positively intoxicating.

Before he leaves, Joe leans in with just his lips for a kiss. “I ordered you a little snack to tide you over until breakfast with my parents,” he mentions.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I reply.

“I know,” he says, kissing me again. “There’s clay on the table too.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m going. I’m going,” he states oddly.

“I know,” I answer.

With a sincere smile, Joe explains, “I’m talking to myself.”

“Why,” I laugh.

“Or else I won’t go,” he admits.

“Oh.”

Joe takes a deep, long breath in. “See you downstairs, beautiful.”

“See you,” I return.





Sixty Seven


With about two hours before meeting Joe’s parents, I drink my clay, finish getting dressed, pack a small bag with some extra clothes per Mrs. Covelli’s instructions that curiously left out exactly what we’re doing, catch up on work and eat the room service Joe ordered. Joe texts a few times, checking in — he claims. Around fifteen minutes before eight, Sadie and I make our way down to the hotel restaurant.

During the course of our meal, I find out that Mr. and Mrs. Covelli are early risers like Joe and myself, but they didn’t want to rush the two of us out of bed. Another odd statement from his parents that I wouldn’t expect — especially with the way they say it.

We end up taking a helicopter to the coast and Sadie fairs pretty well, thanks to Joe helping to mediate her anxiety — some of it stems from me. Apparently, Joe and his parents rented a sailboat for the late morning and into the afternoon for our first excursion day. Mrs. Covelli informs me that she and Mr. Covelli haven’t sailed for a year or two and her excitement to get back on the water is contagious.


When we arrive to the dock, my mouth gaps in astonishment. They said we were taking a sailboat, and my mind expected something of a decent size that would fit the four of us and Sadie easily, but would be handled by just Joe and his father since they both know how to sail. Instead, we’re greeted by an eight-person team that stands at attention at the top of a wood plank that is our ramp to board. The vessel isn’t a boat, it’s a ship. The masts for the four sails must be at least two hundred feet tall each.