Free The Cornish Affair by Laura Lockington Page A

admiration echoed down the beach.
    I threw myself on my back, better to admire the rockets that were whizzing now overhead, but had to sit up again quickly as I felt dizzy.
    “You alright, Fin?” Jace asked, gently stroking my back.
    “Bit too wuch mine, I mean, wine,” I giggled.
    It felt as though a laughter sprite had settled somewhere in my solar plexus, and I started laughing. The more I laughed, the more I realised how ridiculous the whole situation was, and then I laughed even more. I simply couldn’t stop. If I tell you that it was impossible to stop laughing, it doesn’t really give you a fair idea of how hard it would be to cease the strange noise that was being pushed unwillingly from my mouth.
    “ You’m off yer face,” Jace said in an amused voice.
    “Who isn’t?” I spluttered.
    “What a wonderful, wonderful night,” I enthused, falling back on the blanket again, “The dolphins, the race, and now fireworks! I think I love Port Charles when it’s like this, don’t you?”
    “There be quite a few things in Port Charles that I feel that way about,” Jace agreed, stroking my hair away from my face.
    He stopped my sniggering by kissing me.
    Well, that was one way of shutting me up, I reasoned. And, he was a great kisser. Not too wet, or sloppy, or hard, or rough, but definitely passionate. Our tongues were gently exploring each others’ mouths, and as I closed my eyes I could feel my head start spinning. This was probably due to excess alcohol intake, not to mention a dope cake, but the kiss had a little something to do with it too.
    Jace propped himself up on one elbow, whilst stroking my head with his other hand.
    “Fin, you up for this, then?”
    I nodded drunkenly.
    What happened on that rough blanket in the sand was not what I had expected. It was wonderful. No, it was more than that, it was fanbloodytastic.
    Of course all the elements were there to make it so, it was forbidden, it was wild, it was almost pagan in its ferocity. It certainly helped that I was, as Jace so charmingly put it, off my face, oh yes, and let’s not forget that he was thirteen years younger than me and very, very well practiced in the art of pleasure.
    Afterwards, despite the chill night air, we were both covered in a film of sweat, and Jace dragged me down to the sea.
    “No, Jace, stop it. Someone will see us,” I said, trying to cover my nakedness with his tee shirt.
    “Like who?” he said, gesturing towards a near empty, dark beach and tearing the shirt away from my hands. He pulled me down in the wet sand near the lapping waves and kissed me again, so that I felt like Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity, although I knew I couldn’t possibly look like her. The sand was sticking to my body, and I was shivering.
    “You’ll have to go in now, just to wash it off,” Jace laughed.
    He stood up, and pulled me towards him. I reluctantly stood in the shallows with my arms around me, whilst trying to acclimatise myself to the iciness of the sea. Jace scooped some sea water up in his cupped hands and dribbled it down my back. The yell I made would have awoken the dead.
    “Shh, we don’t want people to think you’m being murdered!”
    “Jesus, it’s so cold!” I shouted, hopping from one foot to the other.
    “Come on, a quick dip, we’ll feel great after,” Jace said persuasively, dragging me into deeper water.
    I counted and promised myself that on the count of three I would plunge into the cold depths. I have never been wild about swimming (let alone swimming naked, at midnight, not sober) in the sea. I mean, there are things that live in there. Things that bite, sting, are slimy, are dangerous and move like greased lightening. Then there are the treacherous currents and rip tides, sharp things that you could tread on, jelly fish – oh God, the list is endless… I waded with clenched fists, shrieking every time a wave hit me, up to my thighs and then as quickly as I could plunged into the sea. I swam