Endless Summer

by Julie Kenner, Karen Anders

  “Yesterday I had a fully committed sponsor. Yesterday I had boards to ride. Yesterday, you were an adolescent fantasy and posters on my wall.” She took a small breath, tried to square her shoulders and stand straighter. Mostly because what she really wanted to do was curl against his nice, broad chest and allow herself a moment, just a moment, of someone else sharing her burden and comforting her, making her believe everything was going to be okay. It was a moment she couldn’t afford to take.

  For far too long, Zack captured her gaze. In those heartbeats of time, she cursed her stupidity for inventing her hands-off rule. He put her hard-won equilibrium in jeopardy every time she got within five feet of him, but she didn’t take her eyes off him. Just when she was losing her resolve to remain steadfast and not lean closer, his hands fell to his sides, but he didn’t move away from her.

  She was disappointed when he didn’t drop his chin, lower his head, slide his hands up her arms and cup the back of her neck so he could tilt her mouth up to his to taste her again.

  “That’s how we get into these kinds of situations,” he said calmly.

  At first she thought by situations he meant the wild, uncontrollable attraction crackling and snapping between them, but when he went on, she felt her cheeks flood with color.

  “You’ll be moving forward with all your plans, thinking everything is going to fall in place, doing what has to be done, then, bam, you lose it, something big happens to change all that, to throw it off. Most of the time there is no warning. That’s it. Things irrevocably change and you have to sit up and realize that what you had planned has to change drastically. You just hope that when that day comes, you can make a difference in your favor.”

  “And have you?” she asked, still struggling to put his words into the right context and not let her heart break for what he’d lost. She had to admit that the bam in her life right now was the presence of Zack in it.

  He lifted a hand, as if he was going to caress her cheek. She held her breath, but he restrained the motion at the last second, let his hand fall back by his side. She had to work at not letting her shoulders slump in disappointment. She was the one who had set the ground rules.

  “I hope so,” he said, quite seriously.

  Not the strong testimonial she was searching for.

  Alarm began to creep back in, replacing the one-two punch of libido and fierce attraction. His honesty was refreshing and much better than fake bravado. “Me, too. Thank you,” she said.

  “For?”

  “Being there.” Her voice was thin and trembling at the sight of his smile. “Simple, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t get the charismatic smile she had anticipated. Instead, his expression grew even more serious. “Your father loves you for who you are, JC. The great Slade Wilcox couldn’t be any other way.”

  “My father is great. I should stop procrastinating and go see him.”

  “Would I sound pathetic if I begged you to take me with you?”

  3

  DAMN, he did sound pathetic.

  And he’d opened his heart to her. Too late, the maneuver couldn’t be recalled, he’d committed, and now she knew what he hid from the world, but he could be safe in the knowledge that she didn’t know everything, and it would stay that way. He couldn’t afford to completely open up to a woman with whom he probably had no future in Hawaii. So why did he even bother telling her so much when she’d touched a raw nerve?

  She was so genuine, and he hadn’t met that in a long time. There was comfort in knowing that she understood his pain. Now she also knew that he had idolized her father.

  “There’s nothing wrong with hero-worship. You wouldn’t be the only guy I was with who wanted to meet my father. Sometimes that’s the only reason they sought me out. Kinda hurt my ego a few times.”

  “I didn’t mean that I…”

  “Oh, I know that. I didn’t mean to imply that’s why you’re hanging out with me.”

  “Good. Because it isn’t. Don’t mention my hero-worship to your father, though, okay?”

  “I think he’ll get it when you ask him to sign that poster you’ve been saving in shrink wrap on the off chance you’d get an opportunity to actually meet him.”

  “And where’s the poster you have of me in shrink wrap?”

  She laughed. “Touché. It’s home on my bedroom wall so I can look at you. Drea’s the one with the shrink wrap.”

  “And what about Laci?”

  “Laci would never admit that she hero-worships anyone. It might ruin her bad-girl reputation.”

  He laughed. “Why don’t you hop in my Jeep and relax while I pick up the rest of this and lock up. Do you have time to come back tomorrow and do some more work on the board? We can get the rails done and then there’s not much to do after that. We could get resin on it by tomorrow or the next day.”

  “I’ll make time. I enjoyed working on my own board.”

  She had enjoyed watching him. He could tell. Her eyes had followed his movements, her lips parting as if she was imagining how his hands would feel on her. He shook off that thought. They were going to remain platonic. It was the way she wanted it.

  He had to admit that she did make him crazy and a bit nervous.

  She nodded and left his workshop. Zack picked up, having a hard time keeping his mind on the tasks when all he wanted to do was rush to his car, slide his hand around the nape of her neck and draw her mouth to his.

  After he’d turned off the lights and closed both doors, he started to head back to the front of his house and the Jeep, but stopped dead. She was standing on the beach, the T-shirt discarded, her shorts around her ankles. She was wearing a barely there bikini, her lustrous skin shining like diamonds in the moonlight.

  His feet started to move, and just as they touched the sand, she ran to the waves and launched herself into the water. He walked to the edge of the surf and stood there looking for her as the warm water lapped at his ankles.

  After a few moments, she rose from the waves and walked toward him. Water sluiced over her body and the bikini left most of her skin exposed, like a Polynesian woman in her primal habitat. Her nipples, dark and hard against the fabric, stood out in reaction to the air hitting her wet, slick skin. His brain short-circuited, his mind shut down and libido and hormones took over.

  She walked up to him and stood there, breathing slightly from her exertions.

  She reached out and settled her hand against his chest as if to keep him at bay.

  He covered her fingers and pressed her there so he could slide his fingers beneath her wet hair at her nape and tug her mouth closer to his. And she didn’t do a damn thing to stop him. “You made me crazy from the first second I laid eyes on you.”

  “You have to be the one to resist,” she whispered, stepping closer.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t.”

  She tasted like the heat of a Hawaiian sunrise and she softened beneath his hands and mouth with a sigh of surrender, allowing him to give up any pretense of trying to control himself where she was concerned.

  The past, the present, warred in a tangled mess in his head and in his heart. He didn’t even try to convince himself that taking a risk in this situation was smart. He just had to have her. He wanted to think he was well past that ugly part of his life. Clearly, he was not. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman before and that should have been a warning, but his need for her blocked out all common sense.

  “Why aren’t you resisting?” she murmured beneath his lips. She slid her arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

  “Now why would I want to do that?”

  His spirit soared and it almost hurt to feel this alive. “You were the one with the rules.” He kissed his way along the soft line of her jaw.

  She sighed and melted against him, stretching so that his seeking lips could better plunder her neck and the sensitive area beneath her ear. “My rules were rash and woefully imprudent.”

  His mouth f
ound her throbbing pulse, wringing a gasping moan from her lips. It was enough to make him hard to the point of pain. And he wanted desperately to hear her make that soft, beseeching sound again. “Really? In what way?”

  “Haven’t you heard that it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind?” She gasped again when he sucked on her earlobe.

  “I have heard that. How does it apply here?”

  “Let me ex—” She broke off on a short moan as his fingers fanned wide, skimming her jaw, her throat, the slope of her shoulders. He cradled her breasts then let his touch flow downward over her ribs to her tiny waist.

  “No need to explain. I’m starting to get it,” he murmured.

  She turned her head and planted kisses across his eyelids, along his jawline. Her fingers explored him, electrifying his senses and making him groan at the feel of her warm, satiny touch.

  “Fast learner,” she said, her voice soft and husky. “I like that. Why did I think I should deny myself this?”

  “I have no idea.” He turned her mouth to his and took it hard and fast.

  She didn’t miss a heartbeat. She ran her fingertips up the back of his neck and dug them into his hair, holding him where she wanted him, which was with his mouth against hers, lips parting, tongues dueling.

  He curled his hands around the tiny strings holding the scrap of material around her hips and expected her to make a move to stop him. But she didn’t. The thought that her resistance was gone surged through him until he was trembling with need and insistent passion. “This is crazy, you know that,” he said, his breaths coming more rapidly as they tore at each other. “Tell me—” He couldn’t hold on to the thought as she pressed her hands against the taut muscles of his back and over the hard globes of his ass, finally tugging his belt loops so he bumped more tightly against her.

  “That I’m tired of being alone, tired of maintaining my me-against-the-world act,” she said, her voice shuddering with desire, underscored by the reverent placement of her hot mouth on his neck, his collarbone, his chest, eliciting so much pleasure. His skin was so sensitized by her mouth that every place she touched, tasted, nibbled set him that much closer to the edge. Madness coursed through the night like a shooting star.

  She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Are you cold?”

  “No way! I’m burning up.”

  This time, as their lips met, every sense was heightened and he felt melded to her, filled by her. He was caught by the fragrance of her skin, the sound of her breath catching and the delicate lacework of her lashes as they swept against her cheek. She teased. She taunted. Their tongues met in a sensual slide, one along the other, taking, tasting. Soft moans filled the night air. He was drowning, and he didn’t want to be saved. Reality would rear its ugly head soon enough. It always did. He wasn’t going to hurry it along any faster than necessary.

  She shivered again, and he knew it was from pleasure.

  He wanted to throw her down on the beach, strip her naked and take them deep under to drown in the hot, liquid desire that rushed through him. So he had no idea where the tenderness that sprang up within him came from. He nuzzled the side of her chin, and then tipped it up until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

  Her eyes were filled with an accusatory twinkle. “All of this is your fault.”

  Zack had to laugh softly. “Are we back here again?”

  “Don’t laugh. Woman’s prerogative, remember?”

  “How so?”

  “Why did you have to be surfing at the same time I was? Your fault. Why did you have to be on that beach at the time when I lost it? Your fault. Why do you have to be so irresistible, sexy? And hello, hard?”

  “I’d say that was your fault.”

  “Oh, man, is it?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “Men are too easy.”

  “Ha,” he said, his mouth trailing down over her collarbone, latching onto her breast right though the cotton of her bikini top. Her nipple felt hot against his tongue and tasted of salt water. She groaned and arched into him. It was headier than sliding into the tube and feeling that wall of water roll over him.

  “Ah, women are so easy.”

  “Let’s make sure,” she said softly. “Do that again.”

  He took her other breast and his knees buckled when her hand slipped around the snap of his shorts—and then they were gone, along with his underwear. He gave in and pulled on those tiny, tempting strings and the scrap of material covering her hot, pulsing sex fell away.

  With quick hands, she pushed the T-shirt up his chest and off his shoulders. Together, they sank into the surf.

  JC HADN’T PLANNED this. Not really. Yes, she’d come out onto the beach because she wasn’t quite ready to go home. That terrible restlessness inside her demanded release. Is this what she’d chosen?

  His hand moved up to her neck, and he released the string there and pulled her top down until her breasts were bare to the moonlight and his hot blue eyes. The breeze blew across her heated breasts and she cried out with the sudden sensation. Zack groaned, his eyes following the movement of her body. “Zack,” she murmured.

  He ran his palm over one dark tight bud and she cried out again, lost in the ecstasy.

  “Damn,” he murmured.

  He bent his head and sucked her nipple hard into his mouth, the heat of it made her back arch off the sand, the grains rough against her backside only added fuel to her sensitized body. The heat flowed down her torso, zeroing in on her sex, forcing her to open her legs as she pushed against his body.

  His hand found her sex and he pressed the pad of his finger over her. The double assault was too much and she cried out. He slipped inside her and she thrust against his hand, the tantalizing rock-hard length of him pressing against her stomach.

  He looked into her eyes as he slid his finger out and back inside again. She gasped and gazed back, reveling in the punch of desire so raw it took what was left of her breath. It was heady, powerful stuff, knowing she moved him like this.

  She groaned deep in her throat when he slid another finger inside her. She pushed up on her heels, forcing his shaft along the soft skin of her stomach. He groaned now, too, and bucked against her.

  Reaching up, she pulled his head down to hers. She wanted something more immediate than his fingers inside of her. She kissed him hard, and he returned it with equal fervor. He tugged her hands from their grasp in his hair and pinned them on either side of her, pressing his hard, hot chest against her water-slicked breasts.

  The surf exploded against their bodies, the warm water drenching him, slicking his shining blond hair to a soft golden halo under the moon’s silvery glow. Water sluiced from his body in rivulets, running over sleek, muscled skin.

  “It’s time to explore.” He slid down her body.

  JC tipped her head back as he let go of her hands. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on feeling every sensation, every ripple of pleasure. She tried not to tremble so hard, but she couldn’t seem to stop. The warm ocean slammed across her naked torso, brushing over her hot aching nipples like silk, sliding across her skin, drenching his hair, dripping off his jaw onto her as he continued his downward assault with his hot mouth and lips.

  Her thighs quivered in anticipation of his touch. Even with the spray and the foam swirling and eddying around her body, she could feel his warm breath brush against her oh-so-sensitive skin. She wanted to sink her fingers into his hair, urge him closer and beg him to please put an end to the torturous wait. But he continued his exploration of her stomach as if he was feasting on her, gaining sustenance to slake his starving lust.

  The sand, once grainy against her back, now softened with each wave that hit the shore and buoyed her.

  He slid his hands slowly up her sides and back down to the crease where her hip met her thigh and she shuddered when he touched her pelvis and brushed his thumb over her swollen sex.

  He pushed at her knees, nudging them farther apart and slipped his hand
s under her buttocks.

  She sighed as, once again, his breath fanned across her inner thighs. And thought she’d scream at his teasing kisses and nips. A whimpering groan slipped from her mouth as he slowly drew his tongue along her aching flesh.

  She realized her arms were still crossed above her head and she lowered them to brace herself against the shifting sand beneath her. She slapped her palms to the sand and arched her back with a strangled cry of pure pleasure. His hands tightened on her buttocks at the sound, and he moaned deep in his throat as his mouth teased over her sex.

  Long moans, one after the other, poured out of her as his tongue rasped over her clit. Stabs of rapture shuddered through her, tightening in her core, as his tongue danced like a flame against her throbbing flesh.

  The movements of his tongue took her higher as the waves slapped against her, stimulating every nerve ending in her body until he pushed her over.

  Wave after wave continued to rock through her. Then he did something no other man had ever done. He waited, patiently until she dropped ever so slightly from the peak and his tongue took her again. She climaxed so hard, her body convulsed in pure pleasure.

  He slid his body up along hers, linking his hands with hers on the sand.

  “You were…” She had no words. Her brain could not form the sentence. Her thoughts scattered as the aftershocks trembled through her. She was still trying to come back to her senses. “That was…You need…”

  “Shh,” he told her, then pulled her arms up around his neck and kissed her.

  She was yielding in his arms, grateful for his strength, his guidance, his support of her. Any moment now she’d rally, she’d be a more vigorous partner, giving as well as taking…but right then, his kisses were almost as consuming as his tongue had been. Later…later she’d return the favor. He didn’t seem all that insistent anyway. And this felt too good. Nothing had ever felt this good.

  He was both tender and intense, making her feel both protected and coveted at the same time. He tucked his hips against hers, still kissing her deeply, twining his tongue along hers as he slid his hands down and pulled her thighs up over his hips, pinning her to the sand. “JC….” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t want to stop, but—”