Morning came far too soon. The orange neon glow was gone, replaced by thin sunlight pushing through the curtains.

The ache of sleeping in a strange bed brought me back to the world.

Abby had already woken up and showered.

I glanced around the quiet room and saw my tacky shirt still hanging from the nightstand. Beside it sat a steaming cup of coffee.

Sitting up, I took a sip and wrinkled my nose at the bitterness of it, then noticed she had thoughtfully pulled the sheer drapes closed.

I heard her humming softly while getting dressed in front of the bathroom mirror. It brought a smile to my face.

Pulling back the covers, I took a bigger sip and forced myself to get up.

Still nude, I felt a bit awkward walking toward her, but the dried lubricant on my thighs begged for that shower.

Abby watched me through the mirror. "Good morning, handsome."

"Mornin'," I offered, not feeling totally awake yet.

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek as I started the shower.

"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked.

Abby turned to me. "I feel happy."

Sore or not, I felt it too.

There was no shower sex or erotic morning encounter that Monday morning. But there was definitely something new between us, like we belonged in that moment.

After a very filling breakfast at an overpriced buffet, we were soon back on the road.

The Las Vegas honeymoon faded in the rearview as we made our way across the vast desert.

I felt at ease, content.

Like something I'd always wanted had finally been handed to me... but I was also worried.

Worried about what might come of this. We still had our lives waiting once we got back home. We both knew this wasn't going to last, and I hoped it wouldn't bite us in the ass when we got home.

But even with all that weight, I believed we could handle it. We'd been through the hard version of us already. The reckless version. The version where feelings got too loud, boundaries blurred, and people we cared about got pulled into something that should have stayed between Abby and me.

We both knew better now.

The miles passed, and we talked a lot about our last drive across that same stretch of highway. What she had felt for me back then. What I had felt for her. How carefully we hid it from everyone around us.

I confessed that I used to watch her from a distance, and I reminded her about the friend who once asked why we weren't together.

There was so much history between us.

Abby counted down the miles to the border. I could feel her excitement when we crossed into California. I had been back many times, so I was a little indifferent to it myself, but seeing her light up made me happy.

She talked about what she wanted to see, to do, to eat.

But out of everything she brought up, the beach was what stayed with me.

She had no idea, but I had planned an overnight stay at one of the more secluded beaches. One that actually allowed bonfires and beach camping.

I had a hard time keeping that to myself.

We had four days to fit in everything Abby wanted to do, my family business, and the beach before we needed to head home.

I planned on making the most of every minute.

Rolling along, our conversation slowed for the first time in hundreds of miles. I glanced over and saw her digging through her purse, then looking between the front seats toward the small bench in the back.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I can't find my sunglasses," she said while looking confused.

It was bright out there with the harsh desert sun. I hadn't even noticed she wasn't wearing them.

"Do you know where my little bag is? Did we leave it in the hotel?"

I knew exactly where it was. She had handed it to me before we pulled out of that hot parking garage, and I'd set it in the bed of my truck.

"It's in the back of the truck," I offered. "There's a rest area coming up. I'm stopping there anyways."

Abby looked back, then asked about the sliding window between the cab and the bed.

"Yeah, you might be able to reach through there."

Abby unbuckled and climbed between the seats, bumping my arm with her hip as she squeezed past. The truck drifted just enough for me to correct it with a quick tug of the wheel.

"Careful," I muttered, though I was smiling.

She dropped onto the rear bench seat and leaned toward the sliding window. She really wanted those sunglasses.

"It's not far from the rest area..."

"It's okay," she mumbled as she opened the sliding window.

I tried to keep my eyes on the road, stealing glances at her in the mirror as she reached through the window.

She stretched farther toward her little bag, and that's when I noticed the way her tight shorts pulled between her legs. I think I nearly drooled, seeing the shape of her in full detail.

"Are you okay?" I asked, hearing her strained little grunt as half her body disappeared into the truck bed.

I adjusted my rearview mirror, so I had a much better view of her ass wiggling around.

"I almost have it," she muttered from somewhere behind me as she stretched farther.

Without thinking, I reached back and ran my fingers along her covered pussy. As if on cue, "Pour Some Sugar on Me" began playing.

God, I couldn't resist.

Abby must have known it was coming because she held still for a moment.

Then a faint, muffled "Hey" came from the bed. It was playful, not a complaint.

"Not fair!" she shouted, then pushed back into my fingers with a naughty arch of her back and a little wiggle to the music.

My fingertips pressed firmer, tracing her through the thin fabric of her shorts. I could feel her heat, and the way she stopped searching told me she had forgotten all about the sunglasses for a second.

I glanced from the road to the mirror, watching her hips move in tiny, deliberate motions against my hand.

"Abby..." I warned, though I wasn't sure which one of us I was warning.

Her muffled laugh came from the truck bed. "Pay attention to the road, Anthony."

Then she pushed back one more time, slow and wicked, before finally snatching the bag and sliding back through the window with flushed cheeks and a triumphant smile.

"Tease," she laughed after turning around and sitting on the rear bench seat.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked.

I smirked back at her as I took the exit for the rest area.

"Anything you want..."

"I'll remember that!" she quipped.

I'm sure she knew how quickly that rest area was coming up and just wanted to leave me squirming.

I actually needed a quick restroom stop and a soda from my little cooler.

She sure got me fired up. I actually had to adjust myself before getting out of the truck. If it hadn't been over 110 degrees out, I think I would have taken her into the back and made use of the air mattress.

Instead, we took the opportunity to return calls and answer texts from work and family.

After our break and a couple of cold drinks, we were back at it, driving, flirting, and Abby rolling her eyes at my random dad jokes. I couldn't help myself. If I saw something out the window, my brain turned it into a joke.

"Why was the car always so tired?"

Another eye roll.

"It never took any brakes."

She was a tough audience.

We stopped at a tourist trap in Baker, knowing my kids would love some jerky and cheesy alien souvenirs.

About an hour later, we hit Barstow and stopped at In-N-Out, because of course we did. It was the first real California food stop on both of our lists. If you've never had it, you're missing out. After years in the middle of the country, where food can start to feel a little too safe, West Coast food calls to me.

After lunch, even though I knew it wasn't Abby's favorite place, I took us to the desert town where we actually met. I left for many reasons, and she had left several years before me. But nostalgia crept in, and we had some time.

We cruised by old homes we had lived in, familiar but changed shops, and, still fired up from the window incident, I wanted to take her to one of the spots we used to frequent for a little reminiscing. But that once-private piece of desert, the one that had felt so far from town, had been carved up into new housing developments.

So much for my romantic little plan to defile the past in the back seat. Instead, she held my hand on the center console as we drove past our old hangouts.

She brought up going by the mall, but we quickly dropped the idea in case we ran into somebody we knew.

We may live halfway across the country now, but we both still know plenty of people in the area. Being seen there together could still cause trouble.

We started making our way down toward the Los Angeles basin and stopped at one of those amazing Mexican food restaurants we loved. We ate, flirted, teased.

You'd think it would have started getting old after so many days, but it was like we were in our twenties again and couldn't keep our hands off each other.

We ended up at a large outlet mall in Commerce, wandering from shop to shop. I couldn't keep my eyes off Abby while she picked up different shirts and held them against me, as if she were trying to plan out my wardrobe.

I actually enjoyed it.

In some random women's clothing store, Abby browsed the racks while I stood nearby on my phone, looking for a decent room for the next couple of nights. Something classy, inexpensive, and not too far from my great-uncle's place.

Then Abby held up a dress in front of herself.

"Anthony, what do you think?"

Looking up from the screen, I smiled. Oh, did I ever have thoughts about that dress. I don't know if you'd call it a summer dress or what, but it was floral, colorful, short enough to land above her knees, and loose enough to move with her.

Instantly, I imagined her wearing it at the beach, strolling along some boardwalk, and me lifting it from behind while no one paid attention to us.

"I think you should go try it on," I said in my best sexy voice.

She gave me a shy, demure look. "Okay," she finally agreed, glancing around for the dressing rooms.

I pointed toward them and followed her back, staring at her ass as usual.

Before heading into the dressing room area, Abby glanced over her shoulder at me. Her look told me I should follow her in there.

My arousal agreed.

With the dress in her hand, she walked down the little hallway, passing all the open doors until she reached the last one.

I did a quick survey of the area. No employees nearby. No one seemed to be paying attention as I dropped my phone into my pocket and followed her.

Before she could fully close the door, I pushed it open and was greeted by her not-too-surprised face.

"Can I help you?" she joked softly.

"You can," I said, locking the door.

I took the dress from her and hung it on the door hook without looking. She wrapped her arms around me, kissing me deeply.

In a rush, I pulled her yoga shorts and panties down almost to her knees, watching myself do it in the mirrors.

Abby, just as rushed, opened my shorts and freed my erection.

We wasted no time. She spun around, placed her hands on the little chair, and stared into my eyes through the mirror.

I took hold of myself and ran the head through her folds, then pushed fully into her.

She was so wet.

Grabbing her hips and keeping eye contact in the mirror, I slammed into her as hard as she pushed back. This wasn't the tenderness we'd been sharing. This was pure lust-driven urgency.

I was actually worried about the groans and moans traveling beyond the little room.

With mirrors on every wall, we could see everything from every angle.

Her pussy wrapped around me as my hips drove back and forth. Her fingers gripped the chair as she took me.

I was so close when someone knocked on the door.

"Are you okay in there?" a woman's voice asked.

I froze in place, deep inside her, feeling her squeeze around me.

Abby clenched her jaw, then answered after another knock. "I'm fine. Just stumbled."

"Okay, just let us know if you need anything."

"Thank you," Abby said in her best upbeat voice.

We both held still for several moments, listening, but didn't hear anything else out in the hall.

"Hurry," Abby whispered.

So I did.

Sweaty palms. Racing heart. Fast, urgent hips.

She pushed back into me with force, again and again, until I held her still and came hard. That seemed to set Abby off. I watched her fingers grip the back of the chair as satisfaction washed over her face.

We straightened up and kissed, then had the uncomfortable whispered discussion of how we were going to get both of us out of that changing room.

Sitting in the chair and catching my breath, I watched Abby finally try on the dress.

It was perfect.

"Well?" she asked, spinning around for me.

"You look beautiful."

After she changed back into her shorts and T-shirt, she opened the door and peered out. When she didn't see anyone in the hallway, she walked out first with the dress in her hand.

I followed a few moments later and met her among the racks.

Abby decided to buy the dress, so I followed her up to the register.

That was when I noticed how flushed her cheeks were. I think the young woman at the register noticed too.

As she took the dress from Abby to scan it, she asked if there was anything else, wearing a smile that said she knew exactly what we'd been doing back there.

I looked down at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact.

But after Abby paid for the dress and took the bag, the young woman looked at me, then back at Abby.

"You could do worse, sweetie."

That made me blush. Abby just squeezed my hand and walked out like she hadn't done a thing wrong.

By the time we made it toward Santa Barbara and had some dinner, the day had finally caught up with us.

The room wasn't fancy, but it was clean, quiet, and close enough to everything I needed to handle the next day. More importantly, it was ours for two nights.

For the first time, neither of us attacked the other as the door closed behind us.

We were both genuinely tired. Road tired. Sun tired. Emotionally wrung out from seeing old places, making new memories... it was the kind of day that felt like several lifetimes had stacked on top of each other.

Abby took the first shower while I ran out for some drinks. When I got back, she was wearing one of my T-shirts, and I had every intention of pulling her into the fresh bed and making a mess of it.

But she sat on the edge of the mattress, yawned once, then leaned back against the pillows.

She grabbed the remote and flipped channels as I headed to the shower.

By the time I came out, she was sound asleep.

I stood there for a moment with the towel around my waist, watching her sleep in the soft glow of the TV. Her hair was spread across the pillow, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, my shirt riding high on her thigh.

She looked peaceful.

After everything we'd done, everything we'd risked, that sight hit me harder than it probably should have. Not because it was sexy, though God knows it was. But because it felt normal.

Like she belonged there.

I pulled the covers over her and climbed into bed.

The next morning, we had breakfast at a local diner and discussed the plan for the day.

I left Abby with the truck, a room key, and a rough idea of when I'd be done.

My family business took most of the day. I won't drag you through all of it. Old boxes, older stories, relatives I hardly knew asking careful questions, and me trying not to look at my phone every five minutes.

Abby sent pictures from little shops, the beach, a coffee place she found, and one selfie from the hotel mirror that made focusing on anything else nearly impossible.

My cousin dropped me off at the hotel with several boxes of my uncle's artwork and old family pictures. She asked if I needed help, but I quickly declined, stacking everything onto a hotel luggage cart instead.

She hugged me goodbye, and I waited until she drove off before texting Abby to come down with my truck keys.

When the elevator doors opened, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

Abby stepped out wearing the new dress, high heels, and a smile that told me she knew exactly what she was doing. Her hair and makeup were done beautifully.

She walked straight to me, kissed me, then glanced at the luggage cart.

"After you get that loaded, we're going out," she said.

I blinked. "What?"

"We're going out."

As I stacked the boxes to one side of the truck, careful not to disturb my makeshift bed, I asked where we were going.

"The pier. I heard the restaurant is great."

"But I look like a slob next to you, babe."

"I've got you," Abby said.

Back in the room, she opened one of her shopping bags and pulled out a pair of black slacks and a button-down shirt covered in little Celtic knots.

I laughed seeing that. She knew me too well.

I took a quick shower and dressed in my new styling clothes, while telling Abby about my day and asking about hers.

We drove the short distance to the pier and took each other's hands, casually walking to the restaurant.

We had a nice dinner, overlooking the ocean, listening to music, and enjoying just being together, if only for a few more days.

It actually felt like a date. I guess it was, looking back at it.

A real date.

After dinner, we strolled down to the end of the pier. Her new dress moved around her thighs when the breeze came off the water, and I caught myself watching the hem more than I should have. Abby noticed, of course. She always noticed. Her smile turned just a little wicked before softening again.

Leaning against the railing, looking out over the Pacific, the moonlight washing over her... I felt the familiar tightening in my chest, the racing of my pulse.

A woman with a guitar noticed us looking at each other and drifted into a melody I recognized after a few notes. "God Only Knows," or close enough to it. No singing, just the guitar, but I felt like I knew it.

I took Abby's hand and spun her around, making the dress flare, then caught her again, leading her into a slow dance at the end of the pier. Her head came to rest on my chest, one of my arms wrapped around her waist, while the other held her hand. The gentle sound of waves below, the moonlight, and that soft guitar melody surrounded us.

Heck, I don't know what came over me... I don't even know how to dance. I felt like I looked like a fool, but Abby didn't seem to care.

When the guitarist stopped, Abby looked up into my eyes and delicately pressed her lips to mine.

It was sensual and impossibly slow. The kind of slow that made it feel like the world around us had stopped moving.

We were trapped inside that moment, neither of us wanting to let go.

Abby and I had kissed hundreds of times over the years, but this felt different. It felt like a first kiss, as if something inside me had shifted and I was experiencing her all over again.

Moonlight spilled across us, soft and silver, and I remember thinking nothing was ever going to feel quite the same after this.

Nothing was ever going to be the same.

It was as if her lips had pulled a loose thread somewhere deep inside me, and all my carefully guarded logic began to unravel.

She gave me just enough of herself in that whispered kiss to keep me hanging on, wanting more.

For a few perfect moments, I felt like I was standing on top of the world.

Then... we got back to the truck.

The short ride to the hotel was filled with tension. Abby's hand stayed on my thigh, teasing me through the slacks she had bought me. My own hand drifted beneath her dress, finding the heat of her through her panties.

I was shocked we made it to the parking lot safely.

Before we got out of the truck, Abby looked over at me and said, "I need you to fuck me. Now."

Damn.

Unfortunately, the parking lot was crowded with people moving back and forth from their cars.

We made it into the lobby, but a large family group was already crowding into the elevator. I motioned toward the stairs, and Abby took the lead.

We didn't even make it up the first flight before my eyes dropped to her ass. Beneath that short dress, I could just make out her panties hugging her curves.

At the turn in the stairs, I caught up to her and ran my fingers along the thin material. Abby grabbed the railing, leaning forward as a soft sound escaped her.

I teased her there, just long enough to make her grip the railing tighter. My fingers pushed into her through the panties, drawing her moisture.

Abby stood still, her legs slightly spread, allowing my fingers to slip into the leg band, touching her and sliding into her. I curled two fingers, pressing into the front wall of her pussy. My thumb ran firm circles over her clit.

"Anthony."

A couple of flights up, someone opened a door into the stairwell. I pulled my hand back, and Abby looked over her shoulder at me with an expression that nearly undid me.

We rushed the rest of the way to our floor.

As we hurried down the hallway, Abby took my hand and brought my slick fingers to her mouth while I fumbled with the key card.

We nearly fell over each other getting into the room. The door slammed shut behind us, and as soon as I locked it, Abby was already reaching for the zipper at the back of her dress.

Before the dress had a chance to hit the floor, I had kicked off my shoes and was on her. We stood near the foot of the bed, her hand behind my head, pulling my mouth to hers.

My hands moved over her through the dress and bra, then lower as the fabric slipped from her shoulders. She guided me to her panties, already damp beneath my touch.

Her lips never left mine, though words escaped between breaths. I didn't catch all of them. I only knew she said my name.

My knees felt nearly as shaky as hers.

I slid my hand down her stomach, into the panties. Slipping into her again.

Her hands moved down my sides and began working at my belt, button, and zipper. The slacks fell easily to the floor, and her fingers found me through my boxer briefs.

We didn't last much longer standing like that. I pulled away just enough to let her dress fall, joining my slacks on the floor.

Abby fumbled with the buttons of my shirt as her tongue rolled against mine. Reaching behind her, I unclasped her bra and let it fall with everything else, then pulled her panties down over her hips. She kicked them the rest of the way off.

She gripped my underwear and quickly pulled them down.

Standing there completely bare in front of each other, she whispered, "I need you inside me. Now."

She turned, seductively looking at me over her shoulder, then leaned forward and placed her hands on the mattress.

Before she could move any farther, I stepped in behind her. I pushed one hand into the small of her back while the other took hold of my erection, sliding it up and down her extremely hot opening before sinking fully into her in one steady push.

She gripped me with her inner muscles, then pushed back into me, making sure she had every inch.

The backs of her thighs pressed hard into mine as I held there for several moments, savoring the sensations she created by squeezing and releasing.

But that didn't last long. Abby moved forward a little, then back, trying to entice me.

I took my cue and slid nearly completely out of her before pushing back in, over and over, with a little more force each time.

Her knees were pressed into the edge of the mattress, her fists clenching the bedding.

I growled every time I bottomed out inside her.

Abby straightened, her back tight to my pounding chest. Her hands reached back over her shoulders, gripping the back of my head as my hands found her breasts and began teasing and lightly pinching her nipples.

I could feel her moans reverberating through her body.

At that new angle, it felt like I was lifting her off the ground with each upward thrust.

But I couldn't keep that position for long. My knees were beginning to buckle. Grabbing her hips tightly, I spun us around and ended up sitting on the edge of the mattress, taking her with me.

"Ohhh," slipped from her mouth. Not shocked, exactly. More surprised. But she leaned forward, placed her hands on my knees, and began sliding up and down my length.

I leaned back on my elbows and watched. I was fixed on her ass, rising and falling.

Her head was tilted forward enough that it looked like she was watching as well, studying between her legs.

The wet sounds of sex filled the quiet room.

I could see the muscles in her body straining as she tightened and released around me. I noticed the small quivers in her ass cheeks.

I reached forward, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her back until she was lying against me. Then we rolled to the side. Abby turned her head as far as she could so we could kiss while I began pumping into her from behind.

It was frantic and hurried, both of us racing for the finish.

I slipped my hand down her side, over her hip, and between her legs, rubbing her as I kept pushing into her as hard as I could.

Abby's whole body trembled, her moans growing louder and louder.

I shoved into her as deep as I possibly could and held there as I erupted.

"Oh... my God... fuck... yes," she cried out.

We never got dressed. We just held each other all night under the covers, her back spooned against my chest.

We didn't even turn on the TV. We just lay there, listening to each other breathe.

The next morning came, and I surprisingly slept in. The soreness of a new bed never kicked in. When I woke, Abby was still lying there peacefully asleep.

During our shared shower, yes, there was another round of shower sex. Somewhere in the middle of getting clean and making ourselves dirty again, Abby asked what was on the agenda for the day.

She knew we didn't need to be on the road until the next day, but I didn't want to give away my beach plan just yet, so I tossed out a couple of random ideas. She eventually latched onto one of them.

We weren't in a rush. After our shower, we got dressed and packed up our stuff. Once everything was loaded into the truck, we headed out for breakfast at some little place Abby found online.

Throughout the meal, Abby kept talking about the night before on the pier, about how special it had been to her.

It was special to me, too. Those are memories that will never fade.

Once we arrived at the zoo, we walked through slowly, holding hands and sharing tender kisses. Obviously, I kept checking her out as we moved from exhibit to exhibit. But anytime I stared at her ass, she looked over her shoulder at me.

She knew. She always knew.

I actually wondered how she did that.

She could have been checking me out for all I knew, but I didn't have that little magic trick she had.

It was a gorgeous day. Upper seventies, a light breeze coming off the ocean. A strange mixture of zoo life and salt air filled our nostrils.

At one point, we leaned against the railing, watching the giraffes, and Abby commented on how strange it was to see them with the ocean right there.

After the zoo, Abby still wasn't ready for the day to be over, and honestly, neither was I. The zoo is pretty small, and we did have time to kill.

So I took the long way.

Solvang was touristy in all the best ways. Windmills, bakeries, shops full of things nobody needed. Abby lit up the second we got there, tugging me from window to window like we had nowhere else to be. She loved the Danish architecture and the small, cute town feel.

We bought pastries, a couple of drinks, snacks for later, and a bundle of firewood from a little market on the edge of town. Abby raised an eyebrow when I carried it back to the truck.

"Firewood?"

I tried to look innocent. "You never know."

She narrowed her eyes at me.

She knew I was hiding something, but didn't press the issue.

What she didn't know was that I had already picked up hot dogs and fixings for the campout and packed them away in the cooler in the back of the truck. I had also brought a tote from home full of camping essentials: plates, utensils, and all the other little things I knew we'd need. I even had a couple of folding chairs back there.

I did notice the bed of my truck was getting kind of full, especially after loading the boxes from my family.

With Abby looking over my shoulder, I tried to do the math, figuring out how in the world we were going to sleep back there.

Romance is easy in theory. In practice, it has to share space with dead relatives' artwork, a cooler, folding chairs, and a tote full of plastic forks.

I gave the air mattress a quick check and grinned when I saw it was still holding air, then closed the back hatch.

"Where are we going next?" Abby asked, taking a sip of her trendy dirty soda.

"You'll see."

Leaving Solvang, the tourist shops and bakeries gave way to vineyards, ranches, and dry golden hills. The farther west we drove, the less it felt like the California most people picture.

Then we turned onto Jalama Road. That road always feels so long. I've camped here a few times, but it's been nearly twenty years since my last visit. About fourteen miles of curves, cattle fences, old oak trees, and empty hills rolling toward the ocean.

Abby looked over at me after the third or fourth bend.

"Where are you taking me?"

I just smiled.

"You'll see."

I got the feeling she had never been to Jalama Beach.

A hidden-away stretch of coast, far from the busy California everyone thinks they know. And hopefully, not too crowded.

The sun was getting low as we made the final turn toward the beach. The road dropped toward the water, and the Pacific opened up in front of us, wide and golden under the fading light.

There were only a couple of vehicles near the campground, and I spotted the perfect area, far enough from everyone else to feel like it belonged to us.

Abby leaned forward, looking through the windshield.

"Oh..."

That tiny sound told me I'd chosen right.

Taking in the view, she brought up all the camping trips we'd been on before.

There had been so many, but she and I were always there with other people. Of course, we somehow managed to stay up longer than everyone else, sneaking off to some picnic table once we knew everyone was asleep.

That night, there was no sneaking away from anyone. It was just her, me, and the Pacific.

Abby looked so excited as I backed into the space.

We got out and checked out our home for the night.

As she explored the beach, I quickly rearranged the boxes onto the little bench seat, set up our chairs, set the wood in the fire ring, and got dinner prepared.

Then I straightened out the air mattress, complete with pillows and the soft blanket.

Lying on it, I had an amazing view out the back of the truck, straight toward the beach and ocean.

Perfect.

I wanted it to be perfect for her.

It was really warm out, too, so I knew we should be really comfortable for the night.

Abby came back from her walk just as I was starting the fire. Thankfully, the previous camper left behind a generous pile of wood, so we could have a fire all night, if we wanted.

"This is beautiful," Abby said, looking out at the setting sun.

"It is," I replied, but I was just looking at her.

She blushed.

Once the small fire was established and the grill was heated, we made some hot dogs over the open flames.

I enjoyed just sitting there on the warm sand, rolling the dogs over the grill, sharing silent moments that spoke a lot.

Abby looked a bit chilly, so I grabbed an oversized sweatshirt from my truck for her.

She went to the passenger side and slipped it on, just out of my view.

When she came back around the truck, I was more than a little turned on. It looked way better on her than it ever had on me.

My red Deadpool sweatshirt was long and baggy on her, hanging way below the hem of her shorts and giving the appearance that she was wearing only my sweatshirt.

She had also pulled her hair back with the pink hair tie I'd hauled around for so many miles.

Before she sat, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, deeply and slowly.

We pulled our chairs close together, enjoying the fire and watching the sun finally vanish below the waves as we ate hot dogs and sipped cheap alcoholic drinks.

It was peaceful. I felt content, even though I knew we still had the entire return trip ahead of us. That drive would probably become emotionally charged once we had to face the lives waiting for us back home.

But for now, this felt like the perfect cap to the week.

We sat there for a while, just listening to the pops and cracks of the fire, the waves crashing on the beach, until I got up and cleaned up our dinner mess.

Eventually, we took a barefoot walk along the beach, holding hands, kissing under the stars.

Abby scanned the sky and pointed out a cluster of stars I used to call the Balloon Cluster.

I didn’t know what it was actually called. I only knew it had been there when we first met, back when we started having an emotional and physical affair far off in the desert, away from everyone we knew.

She wrapped her arms around me, looking into my eyes. The moon was low, casting silver light over us. The few scattered campers were so far away they might as well not have been there.

The cold ocean rolled over our feet as she stared into me.

It was powerful, like a scene from some romantic movie with a title I couldn't remember.

I leaned in, lightly touching her lips with mine. Her mouth parted, and our tongues touched, then danced as I pulled her body closer.

"I love you," slipped from Abby before she kissed me with more urgency.

I slid my hand down her back, then paused. I suddenly realized she wasn't wearing anything under that baggy sweatshirt.

"You naughty girl," I teased.

She pulled her head back with an innocent expression. "What?"

She had actually been sitting beside me this whole time while we ate and enjoyed the fire, and she was totally naked under that sweatshirt.

I ran my hands farther down and lifted the heavy cotton material, cupping her bare ass.

Abby giggled.

"You think you're getting lucky tonight?"

Abby grinned. "I better be."

Oh, she was... I was.

She brought her lips back to mine, one hand on my cheek, the other behind my back.

The waves kept rushing around our feet, cold enough to make us flinch, but neither of us seemed to care. I think we were both thinking the same thing.

Damn the cold water. This was happening.

And it was. Our hands began exploring each other as we stood there on the beach, out in the open.

I ran my hand between us, over her hip, then lower. Slowly, teasingly, just barely touching her.

Abby sighed when my fingers finally made contact. Feeling her heat, I understood she had been anticipating this moment for a while.

Abby turned toward the ocean, her back settling against me. My fingers found their way back between her legs. Pressing, exploring, sliding.

She reached behind herself, sliding her hand down my stomach, into my shorts, then wrapped her fingers around me. Squeezing, stroking, teasing me in the cold moonlight.

Abby breathed deeply, letting the sensations roll through her with the tide.

I kissed her neck, tasting salt on her skin, then found her earlobe as my fingers curled inside her.

She worked my shorts down, freeing me. I pressed against the warmth of her lower back while the ocean washed around our feet.

The sweatshirt was lifted over her hips, exposing her to a world that wasn't watching.

We swayed together as if dancing with the tide, her body warm against mine, the Pacific breathing in and out around us.

Hearing a soft, almost guttural sound, we froze. Was someone coming toward our spot on the beach?

The red sweatshirt slipped lower, nearly covering her, except where my hand still held her.

The sound came again, and we both searched the moonlit shoreline. Then I spotted the intruders.

"Look to your left," I whispered in her ear.

Abby turned, and then she saw them.

At least two harbor seals, maybe more, were resting on a rock several hundred feet away. We could just make them out in the silver light.

I don't think we looked very long. Not with her hand wrapped around me and my fingers still inside her.

I pushed my fingers deeper, then whispered, "We have an audience."

"Let's not disappoint them," Abby whispered back.

Abby's knees began to bend, cueing me to follow her. We sank together into the wet sand, both of us on our knees.

The tide washed across our legs, only a few inches deep. I secretly hoped it wouldn't rise any farther.

She freed my erection, then reached between her legs and took hold of me again. My hands settled firmly on her hips.

Her back arched as she guided me to her opening. Abby pushed back onto me, taking me inside her.

I saw the familiar fireworks behind my closed eyes as she took all of me in one slow motion.

Abby moaned softly, and I felt her open around me.

My lips returned to her neck as I began deliberate, shallow thrusts.

She steadied herself with her hands on my thighs.

Another wave washed in, this time slightly higher, but I don't think either of us cared.

Breathing deeply, I tried to control the urge to slam into her. I needed this moment to last.

Abby began tilting her pelvis, changing the angle, creating pressure in all the right places. I felt her trembling, and I don't think it was from the cold ocean.

Against my will, I pushed harder, deeper. The tingle began rising inside me, tightening in my gut.

She clenched around me and began to spasm. "Yes," Abby cried out.

I pulled her back hard against my chest and growled into her ear as my own orgasm tore through me.

Another wave washed over us, this time deeper, nearly to where we were joined.

I held her tightly for several moments, until the cold water rose high enough to make her gasp, touching both of us in places that made romance difficult.

Standing, Abby turned to me. "That was perfect."

I kissed her with the ocean surrounding our legs.

We eventually strolled back to our little spot, and I placed a couple more logs on the fire.

We laughed about what we had just done: passionate sex on the beach, wildlife nearby, and people not too far away. Somehow, the laughter only made it feel more like us.

With our chairs pulled close and the fire crackling, Abby leaned against my shoulder. We sipped our cheap drinks, snacked on pastries from town, and enjoyed the world in front of us.

It was late, and the distant fires from other campers had long died out, but we were still there, talking, watching the stars, watching each other, bathed in the orange glow of the fire.

Abby turned to me. "What was your favorite part of the trip?"

"That's easy. This part, Abby."

Something in her eyes sparked. She leaned up, kissing me again.

I stood, leading her back to the bed of the truck. After dropping the tailgate, I helped Abby climb up, checking out her bare ass, of course.

And like always, she knew.

I climbed in and joined her on the mattress. We snuggled under the blanket, looking out through the open back of the truck at the ocean, the moon hanging low near the horizon. Her hands began exploring me again, running down my chest and into my shorts.

We made slow, passionate love again that night, our last time in California.

It was truly beautiful.

We stayed up way too late, ate snacks, finished off the cheap drinks, and eventually drifted off while the fire's last glow faded in front of the moonlit ocean.

The trip home had just as many stories to tell, but those might have to wait for another day. Or maybe we'll just keep them between us.