Endless Summer

by Julie Kenner, Karen Anders

  “Now we can get to the best part of a fight,” he teased.

  “The making-up part?”

  He leaned over, his lips just inches from hers. “A woman who gets my meaning.” Then his mouth lightly brushed against hers. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Inhaled the exotic scent of his cologne. Her mouth watered whenever she caught the scent of one of Hawaii’s native plants, but the scent on Kirk made her want to close her eyes and breathe in deeply.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you opened the door and I saw you standing there in this dress looking gorgeous. Hell, I wanted to kiss you at the Trading Post.”

  “Then why are you talking?” she asked against his lips.

  He didn’t waste time answering her question. Instead, his fingers curved around her shoulders and his lips took hers. This wasn’t the soft, exploring kiss on the beach. This was a kiss of want and desire and passion, but most especially promise. A promise of more to come. She liked the thought of it. Liked it a lot.

  But slowly he pulled away. “As awkward as dragging you into the backseat would be, I’d be willing to do it if I didn’t know my parents were waiting for us inside, or that there are security cameras installed throughout the parking lot.”

  Drea’s groan turned into a giggle.

  Kirk turned away and gripped the steering wheel. Had she done that to him? Made him need to wait and get himself under control? She liked that, because he’d made her breath catch, and her heart beat to the kind of level even surfing didn’t match.

  With a smile, she adjusted the straps of her dress. Then she pulled down the mirror to make sure her lipstick wasn’t smeared.

  He started the car, and pulled into the valet parking area. After handing the keys to the valet, he escorted Drea through the lobby and to a lounge.

  “Spend a lot of time here?” she asked.

  “I practically grew up here.” He opened the door and Drea almost lost her balance. She’d never seen such a beautiful room. One whole side was lined with doors opening up to the incredible beach view, lit by flaming tiki torches. Gorgeous chandeliers hung from the ceiling and dark Pacific wood accented the elegant surroundings.

  In a word, the view, the room, the hotel was luxurious. And the people inside the room all matched. The women wore elegant updos, while the men sported suits that would pay for a new board.

  And more.

  Kirk must have sensed her natural inclination to flee because the reassuring warmth of his hand suddenly rested on the small of her back. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my parents.”

  If she thought the physical setting was intimidating, then actually seeing Kirk’s family up close was downright scary. His mom had that picture-perfect elegance that appeared as natural to her as breathing, and his father wore an air of wealth.

  For a moment, she wondered if she wore an air of poverty.

  A waiter walked by with a tray of something that looked alcoholic, and Drea was really tempted.

  His parents were all polite smiles and welcome, but then his father took Kirk aside to talk business. Drea wandered around to further check out the room. A large buffet was tucked in the corner. All kinds of fruit were on display, but she wasn’t hungry.

  She’d lost her appetite because she was facing the fact that she didn’t belong here. She probably didn’t belong with Kirk. The man was out of her league—

  No. She wouldn’t go there. Her mother hadn’t raised her to think that way about herself. These people were rich and had probably known which fork and spoon to use since they could hold a utensil, but they weren’t better than she was.

  They just had nothing in common with her.

  Just like Kirk. The only thing that brought them into the same sphere was surfing.

  And desire.

  Whenever she wanted something, she went after it full force, with everything she had, no matter what anyone said. She wanted Kirk Murray, and she wasn’t going to let money, or her lack of it, or her strange reaction to it make her back away from him now.

  She scanned the room for Kirk and spotted him by an ice sculpture. He seemed miserable as he tugged at his tie, talking to two men. She wanted to take that tie off. Pull the knot apart and slowly slide the material out of the collar. She could almost hear the whisper as the fabric moved, feel the heat from the friction.

  Just then Kirk glanced up. His eyes met hers, then narrowed. He must have seen the white-hot desire in her gaze. Her need. Her determination. With a quick word, he stalked toward her, leaving the man he was with in midconversation.

  “Ready to go?” he asked when he reached her side.

  “We’ve only been here fifteen minutes,” she said, her tone innocent.

  “I don’t care,” he replied, his voice rough and strained.

  Excitement and desire flooded through her. Made her nipples tighten. Her panties felt restrictive. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  “Back to the bungalow?” he asked, his face tight with tension.

  “Your place?”

  “Excellent idea.” She felt the familiar weight of his hand at the small of her back as he gently but quickly guided her out of the room.

  “Don’t you want to say goodbye to your parents?”

  “No.”

  Their rush through the hotel, into the car and to his place happened in a blur. All she knew was the second he shut the door behind him with his foot, she was putting into action her fantasy of taking off his tie.

  With a push to his broad shoulders, she had him up against the living-room wall, her fingers at his tie. She tugged at the knot, not very well since she didn’t have a lot of experience with men who wore the things. But finally, finally she had one end free, reveling in the sound of the silk sliding against the cotton of his collar, just as she imagined. She couldn’t wait to get at the first button.

  His warm hands slid up her legs, pushing her black skirt higher and higher. She shivered when his fingers reached her thighs, making it hard to focus on the buttons of his shirt. He hooked her leg up around his waist, and she moaned as she felt the hardness of his erection against her most sensitive place.

  “Do that again,” he urged, his voice husky and seductive.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Make that sound.”

  “Make me make it,” she challenged.

  Surprise darkened his eyes, then determination. Kirk seemed to be the kind of a man who always got his way, and she was just the kind of woman who’d make him work for what he wanted.

  His fingers slid from her thighs to cup her ass. The heat from his hands seared her through the barely there black panties she wore. His eyes never left hers as he pulled her closer, rubbing her once more.

  She moaned, and her eyes drifted shut. Drea didn’t even care that he’d gotten his way. How he made her feel was just too good. Actually, she had made him work for it, she realized with a smile.

  “What’s that smile for?” he asked.

  She slowly raised her gaze to meet the intensity in his eyes. “You.”

  He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then he groaned. He cupped her face, drawing her lips toward his own.

  Wild and hungry, they kissed and kissed until only the harsh sound of their breathing filled the air. She forgot everything about tonight but the calloused heat of his hands on her skin and the delicious taste of his mouth.

  He broke his lips from hers. With frustration and disappointment, she tried to reach for him, bring his mouth back to hers. Until she felt his lips lower to the line of her jaw.

  Below her ear.

  To the soft responsive side of her neck.

  “I can feel how hard your heart is beating.”

  He gently licked the sensitive pulse point, and her knees went a little weak. Actually went weak. She’d chide herself later, but she’d probably do it again if given the chance. And again.

  He moved his hands to her hips to keep her balanced. “Check out this aerial,” he said,
and spun her until she faced the wall.

  She’d been impressed by his aerials on his surfboard, but this move was far more thrilling. And electrifying to her senses.

  Kirk placed her hands above her head. “Keep them there,” he ordered.

  There he went again, telling her what to do. She’d let him get away with it this time. Only because she wanted to know where this would lead.

  He traced a slow path down her arms that she felt all the way to her fingertips. When he reached her breasts he lightly touched them. The wings of a butterfly would have been more forceful. She swallowed her growing need for a more powerful touch, knowing that when he finally delivered, the wait would make it all the sweeter. Then he cupped her breasts. She moaned at his touch.

  “That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

  “Next time don’t take so long,” she said.

  He chuckled, the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck sending a shiver down between her shoulders.

  He softly caressed her breasts, played with her nipples through her clothes.

  “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve thought of nothing but touching you,” he said. The hard ridge of his erection grew and she arched her back to feel it more. The sound of his groan sent a wave of hot sensation all through her body, so she arched again. She loved knowing she could drive him wild.

  “Then touch me. Touch me everywhere,” she urged, her voice sounding achy.

  A cool rush of air hit her bare legs, and she realized one of his hands had left her breast to raise her skirt. Her thighs tingled with the soft graze of his fingers. Then she felt his slow touch at the edge of her panties.

  Get there, already.

  Kirk laughed deep in his throat as if he understood her frustration. Wanted to prolong it. So she arched her back again, and his fingers drifted under the elastic.

  He cupped her, and her knees went weak once more. His fingers lightly stroked her clit. “Yes. There,” she urged.

  But he slipped his hand away, and guided her to the large couch, which dominated the living room. They fell across the soft leather of the armrest. Draped over the edge of the furniture like this meant that even if her legs failed her, she wouldn’t fall to the carpeted floor. His foot gently pushed her feet apart so he could have better access to her body. His hand slid into her panties once again and she moaned. She balanced on the tips of her toes and his erection once again pressed against her backside.

  He stroked her clit with a light, tantalizing touch, then his fingers moved lower. Into her. She tried to bite back the moan, but why fight it? The sensations he aroused in her were not supposed to be quiet.

  Kirk developed a rhythm with his fingers. Around her clit, then in and out. Over and over again. She gripped the cushion under her hands as he whispered into her ear. “That’s it, Drea. Grind against me, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

  She pushed against him hard, and he slid a finger into her while his thumb took over caressing the best spot.

  “Come,” he said. His voice, his hands, his warmth an invitation.

  Her muscles tensed and she squeezed her eyes tight.

  She gasped as she orgasmed, her whole body trembling from the force of her body’s release.

  Kirk licked behind her ear. “I could listen to you make that sound all day long. Let me do it again.”

  “No,” she said as she grabbed his arm. With her wavering strength, she pulled his hand from her panties, turned and backed along the couch until she was lying fully against the soft gray cushions. “Make love to me, Kirk.”

  She watched as he shrugged out of his dress shirt, then the T-shirt he’d worn underneath. It probably sounded corny as hell, but he was a thing of beauty—made the way a man was supposed to be made. She’d seen his naked chest a lot, touched it even. But somehow, knowing he was about to be joined to her in the most intimate way two people could be joined, she appreciated his body on a whole new level.

  “Sure you don’t want the bed?”

  Drea shook her head. “No. Right here.” She pulled the dress up and over her head, tossing it to the carved coffee table to emphasize her point.

  She watched Kirk swallow, then reach for his wallet to take out a condom. His pants and underwear joined his shirt on the floor and she watched as he rolled the latex down his hard length. That simple act alone would make her ready for his penetration. She reached up, wanting to finish the job for him. Wanting to feel the hardness of his cock in her hand.

  His gaze met hers when her fingers joined his, then his eyes closed and he groaned when she slid the condom firmly in place.

  “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

  With a smile, Drea hooked her fingers on the elastic at her hips, then slowly slid the black silk down her legs. The skin around his mouth tightened with each inch.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” he said, his tone holding tempting promise.

  She crooked her finger at him in invitation.

  He lowered himself onto her, then pressed inside. Nothing felt like the weight of a man. Nothing. She welcomed him, wrapping her legs around his back once he was fully inside. He felt incredible. Hard and hot and just what she wanted. Needed.

  He cupped her face once more and kissed her. His tongue mimicked the movements of his body as he slowly thrust into her.

  But Drea didn’t want slow. She pushed at his shoulders and he sat up, taking her with him. Seated atop him, she could now control the angle, the speed. His lips found her nipple, and she lowered herself onto his erection, wanting to give him a taste of his own slow performance. He gently grazed her breast with his teeth, and suddenly she didn’t care about teasing him. Drea began to move.

  It didn’t take her long to reach her peak, and her movements became more frenzied. He cupped her backside, guiding her and bringing her down on him with force. Her inner muscles began to grip him as her orgasm took over. She held him tighter, wanting him closer. Sensation exploded inside her. Stronger, more powerful than the previous climax. She gasped for air, feeling him get harder and harder inside her. Then his whole body tensed, and he came with a deep, satisfied groan.

  Drea’s head lowered to his shoulder. They were both sweaty, their bodies sensitive from the rush of orgasm. After a while, he gently pulled away from her body and lowered them both to the couch. She settled against the tight muscles of his chest as he buried his face in her hair. She basked in the feel of his solid body alongside hers. How long they lay there she didn’t know, but he kissed her lips and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Very good,” she told him with a slow smile.

  “The couch,” he said, disgust filling his voice. “I can’t believe we didn’t make it to the bedroom.”

  “Are you knocking it?”

  “Never. One of my best new memories just happens to have been made on a couch.”

  5

  IF KIRK were the epitome of the fierce and tender lover the night before, under the morning sun with a surfboard under him, he’d become a tyrant. Talk about morning-after regrets.

  “Make your pop-up more fluid.”

  “Your hands are too close to the board.”

  “Make your footwork more precise when you do your crossover.”

  And they still had the videos to analyze.

  On and on it went, and to top it off, she now had some jerk paddling behind her, ready to steal her position and horn in on her wave. Surfers called these jerks snakes, and she thought that name really fit.

  She managed to take care of business and ride the wave. Kirk motioned her toward the shore, and she grabbed her board and met him at the sand. She dreaded what she’d hear, hating the change in their relationship. It was as if he’d taken all that control and focus he was so fond of and directed it solely at her flaws.

  His expression was harsh. “What were you doing out there? You were far too aggressive with the other surfers.”

  “Are you talk
ing about that snake? You’re the one who talks about being one with the water and respect for the ocean. If the water’s crowded, I’m happy to wait my turn, but I’m not giving any handouts.”

  A series of emotions played across his face. Then she visibly saw the tension release from his shoulders. “You’re right,” Kirk said after a moment.

  “What?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and deliberately giving her tone a touch of incredulousness. “Did you just say I’m right? After everything being wrong from my stance to how I angle, I’m doing something that works for you?”

  A small smile played about the ruggedness of his mouth. “Is that how I sounded?”

  That slight tug of his lips made up for a lot of his tyrannical attitude. “A little.”

  “A lot.” His eyes narrowed. “Listen, Drea. You have amazing surf instincts. You’re a winner, but you are missing the refinements, the little things that give you those extra style points from the judges. But I don’t want to change you. How you handled that surfer reminded me that your style is aggressive. You don’t have to do everything I say, or adopt my attitude, but I do want you to give it a try. To take it under consideration.”

  She met his green gaze, and nodded. “I will.”

  “Especially since I’m right.”

  She swung her head in his direction, studied his expression. Then Drea gasped. “Did you just make a joke? Kirk Murray just made a joke about the seriousness that is surfing. I can’t believe it.”

  “I make jokes all the time.”

  “Are you sure? Because I think sometimes you forget that surfing is supposed to be fun.”

  He instantly returned to the serious trainer. “It’s a sport. A very dangerous sport if you don’t take it seriously. Don’t forget the motto. Respect the wave—”

  “Respect the sport. I remember.”

  He’d quoted it often enough today.

  She took a deep breath, missing their special connection of the day before. And especially of the night. “I know it’s Da Kine, but it’s you, too. I know I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me. You’re going to teach me style, I’m going to teach you to have a little fun in your life.”