Taste Test: A Day at the Beach

Chasing Sand
by Ava Matthews

Vacation was supposed to be relaxing. It was also supposed to be quiet, but Adam couldn't remember what quiet sounded like. At 7:25 that morning, his nephew started beating a plastic spoon against the wall. An hour later, the kid traded in his spoon for a shovel, and Adam had to get out.

He didn't have anywhere to go, but even buying toilet paper would have been preferable to listening to the banging.

He drove around for hours with the windows down -- no talk radio, no music -- just silence. When his gas ran low, he headed back, almost pulling into his usual parking spot before he realized it was taken.

"New arrival," Adam muttered, staring at the guy's backside. The guy might have stolen his spot, but he did have a nice ass. Adam let himself look for a minute before parking and getting out of the car just in time to see a large bottle of vodka roll out of the guy's SUV.

"Damn," Adam said, watching the bottle crash. He stared at the mess on the ground. "That sucks."

The guy shook his head, eyes fixed on the liquid trickling across the asphalt. "I just bought that. Fucking stupid of me to put it in the back next to the hatch." He sighed and bent down, gathering pieces of glass.

Adam winced in sympathy and grabbed a paper sack from inside his car. He crouched next to the guy, picking up some of the larger pieces and tossing them in the sack.

"Thanks." The guy dumped the glass he'd already gathered into the bag and continued cleaning. "I'm Matt." He laughed and nodded toward his hands. "I'd shake your hand, but I might cut it off."

"I appreciate that. I'm Adam," he said, grinning at Matt's attitude. A smashed bottle of alcohol would have sent other men into a rage, but Matt was over it already, almost cheerful. Once all the visible pieces were gone, Adam tossed the sack into the garbage chute and motioned toward the back of Matt's SUV. "You need any more help?"

"Nah. I can get it."

"Honestly, it would be a good excuse for me not to go back to my condo."

"In that case..." Matt pointed to a blue cooler. "You can grab that," he said, lifting a large suitcase out and pulling a backpack on over his shoulders. "You mind walking? It's only two floors, and I fucking hate waiting for the elevators."

Toy Box: Strap-Ons	Toy Box: Vibrators	Toy Box: Piercings	Toy Box: Ribbons	Toy Box: Oil