"A bookstore Zayn? We came all the way to California to end up in a bookstore?"

He pouts and tugs at my arm, pulling me to his side. His eyes roam the shelves before he suddenly breaks away from me, traveling to the poetry section. He craves words like he craves nicotine in the morning.

I admire him; the way his fingertips press tentatively to faded spines.

Soak it up, a symphony of sentences.

Battered spines, those gentle yet calloused hands pausing to pull a book off the shelf.

A shiver runs down my spine as he recites

may i feel said he

(i'll squeal said she

just once said he)

it's fun said she

(may i touch said he

how much said she

a lot said he)

why not said she

(let's go said he

not too far said she

what's too far said he

where you are said she)

may i stay said he

(which way said she

like this said he

if you kiss said she

may i move said he

it is love said she)

if you're willing said he

(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he

but your wife said she

now said he)

ow said she

(tiptop said he

don't stop said she

oh no said he)

go slow said she

(cccome? said he

ummm said she)

you're divine!said he

(you are Mine said she)

e.e. cummings, I think to myself. Must be something in the name.

"Mine," my breath ghosts over his neck.

We're the only ones in here, he's wedged between me and a bookshelf, his fingers trembling. The book slides out of his hands and he turns to face me.

I pin his back against the shelf, my eyes glinting.

"you know

the pleaures

of poetry,

of texture and

translations

from the tip

of your tongue,

words on your lips,

and behind your teeth"

"Harry, I've never had an erection in such an inappropriate place."

I'm on my knees, swooping up the book he dropped. I slide it back into place, my body rutting against his as I do.

His tongue is suddenly in my mouth, his hands fisting the material of my sheer white shirt. I feel him press his mouth under my jaw and he grinds his crotch in slow cricles against me. I moan, trying to get more air, my hips thrusting back.

fevered lips

frantic hips

fervent fingers

faster

fighting for air

flesh on fire

fisted hair

and tentative

tongues

We shouldn't do this here. Well, we should at least buy an old paperback if we're going to have a heated makeout session.

"Zayn," I gasp. "W-we should go."

...

"Everyone is staring at you. You're hotter than the fucking sun."

"No they aren't," he says bashfully.

I don't miss a single glance, the giggles as young girls' gazes land on his ripped tan chest.

"Maybe they're oogling over you."

"Me?"

He chuckles as my tongue darts over the tip of the cone, collecting a few rainbow sprinkles.

"You look..." he trails off, shaking his head.

"What Zayn?"

"That's such a turn on. Everyone is probably fantasizing about that baby pink tongue of yours."

"Oh," my cheeks are on fire. "Sorry babe. My tongue can make you feel good later."

"You give me a hard on in a bookstore and proceed to lick your ice cream like-"

"Why can't you finish a damn sentence?"

"Like you're licking my vein, your tongue trailing over the underside of ny shaft."

I nearly choke on my ice cream.

Some of the off white cream drips down the cone, falling onto my thumb. I should wipe it off but I can't.

The heat from the sun is stifling and sweat trickles down Zayn's torso. His eyes burn into mine and it grows impossibly hotter, sweat collecting at the nape of my neck.

I don't have a napkin but in a matter of seconds his tongue is collecting the droplet of cream.

"You okay babe?"

"I umm...yeah."

His hands are in my hair, twisting it up into a bun. He secures it in place with a band on his wrist.

"You're so cute. What do you want to do today?"

I shrug as he snatches the ice cream from me, his tongue licking up what trickles down the side.

"You can have it," I chuckle. "You paid for it."

His free hand grasps onto mine and we stroll down the boardwalk.

"It's too hot to ride anything. We'll scorch our skin."

"Let's swim, he suggests.

"Are you serious? You want to swim?"

He nods as he finishes the ice cream cone and I capture his lips.

His lips move along my exposed neck, his wet tongue lapping up a bead of sweat.

It's gross but endearing and on second thought I don't want to swim.

pleasure comes in waves

in waves

in w~~~~~

a~~~~

v~~~

e~~

s~

"Zayn," I moan as he nips gently at my flesh, leaving a bite mark beind to prove I'm his.

receding waves

and building

surges

that i'm lost in

he's a man-made ocean,

dark waves and

darker secrets

and pitch black hair

but he can

he can pull

me under until

i'm drowning

wondering when

my last breath

will come

can you sink

in heat

and pleasure

and get lost in

four letter words

and the i love yous

i love you,

i love

i lov

i lo

i lon

i long

for you

for you, for you, for

i'm visiting the sea

time and time again

and swimming in it

feeling the salt

on my tongue,

letting the tide

take me away

blue brusies

like the ocean

blue blue blue

as he sucks

at my neck

wet, wet, wet

soaked but i

haven't dipped

into the water

"You're wet babe."

I'm pulled out of my euphoric state, sucked back into reality.

"Just went swimming," I pant.

"I see," he smirks. "Ride any waves?"

"Is that a sexual innuendo?"

As if one cue, waves crash upon the rocks and my toes dig into the warm golden sand.

"Maybe. Are you up for it?"

"Here? On a public beach? What, are you crazy?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "No babe. Just swim with me, yeah?"

"Literally or figuratively?"

His amber eyes are so...unique. Everyone talks about ocean eyes; aquamarine and crystal clear.

Blue eyes are overrated.

"I...okay."

He pulls me into the water with him and it doesn't make sense.

"What happened to your fear of drowning?"

"Same thing that happened to my fear of falling and fear of flying."

"What's that?"

"You."

We stay on the beach until sunset and the crowds of people on the shore dwindle. It grows dark and I roll next to Zayn on the sand. His smile illuminates the dark, the soft lull of the waves enough to stir the passion within me.

Zayn climbs on top of me and my breath hitches. He tugs down my swim shorts, his fingers trailing and teasing the outline of my cock, looking up at me from under dark lashes. A hiss escapes me as I trust against his hand.

His warm, familiar hand curls around my member, thumbing over the head.

The cool sea breeze hitting my exposed skin. His lips press to my pulse point, his stubble grazing over my cheek.

"Are you going to come all over my hand?"

I just might.

"Zayn please," my voice wobbles. He breathes out slowly, beautifully.

I look up at him expectantly, waiting patiently for his shorts to come off.

"Spread your legs for me love," and he kneels before me.

My cock is blushed pink, hard against my stomach. He places his palms on my hipbones, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin between my thighs, his stubble deliberately dragging. I twitch desperately, his palm drifting inwards, his thumbs skimming the side of my shaft as his nose lowers, grazing my sac making me whine in protest.

He holds his graze, rubbing circles over my hipbones before he leans down to lick a stripe from my base to my tip...leisurely. The pad of his thumb traces my foreskin, sucking and nipping, avoiding my dick purposely, pressing berry blue bruises into my shallow skin.

I work myself hard against his hand, my hips jerking erratically, my voice raspy. I'm so close to release but he takes me in his mouth, my hands fisting in his hair.

Waves of arosual wash over me and I am relentless, Zayn nearly gagging around my head. He doesn't protest or bother to stop so I thrust harder, fucking his mouth until his eyes water, releasing the ocean.

Two fingers slip in my mouth and he twirls his tongue around me, his cheeks hallowing as he moans around me. I suck on his fingers to return to favor. He lowers himself and my cock hits the back of his throat. He just continues, chasing my pleausre. Not quite ready to give in.

He lifts off with a pop and I whimper, his fingers slipping out of my mouth, circling my rim, making me moan out.

My spine bows as his finger rubs over my hole, teasing my tight muscle. His index finger presses in and I throw my head back, my eyelids fluttering closed. He circles my base and I rock back and forth back and forth, his wrist flicking, making my muscles spasm around his finger.

"So tight," he murmurs.

Just his calm voice and crashing waves, his teeth sinking into my neck.

His fingers scissor gently, his hips grinding as obscene sounds fall from my lips.

Riding his fingers.

riding waves, riding waves

His fingers twist, hitting my prostrate, making me whimper. The tip of his index finger grazes my bundle of nerves and I let out a strangled moan.

Zayn

Skin on skin contact, hips rocking shamelessly, cocks pressing together.

I kiss him, my mouth working at a fast pace, my tongue frantic as his fingers work into me.

He sucks a bruise to the soft skin on the inside of my knee. I jerk myself off slowly, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.

"Want you to ride me babe."

Somehow we're switched and I'm on my knees, over his thighs, biting at my already swollen lip.

I sink down slowly and his hips push up experimentally. His hands encourage my hips to move, guiding me and I find a rhythm. He finds my prostate, my messy curls falling over my eyes. My hips still swivel, carving invisible patterns into his pelvic bone.

His tongue gathers the rivulets of sweat that have pooled at my collarbone. I groan throatily as our new position hits a deeper angle. He sucks messy marks onto my neck and it doesn't stop

he lets me feel tidal waves of pleasure

A/N: what's that? I didn't give you beach sex in the last chapter??? Yes, the title is a double entendre