by P. J. Mellor
Her head broke the surface a scarce foot in front of him. Coughing and sputtering, she shoved wet hair from her face. “That was mean.”
But she was smiling. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was a somewhat evil smile, so he began backing away.
“I don’t trust that smile, Ash.” She stood facing him and reached for the waistband of his trunks. “What are you doing?”
“Just helping you get the sand out.” She jerked, pulling him until he stood abdomen to abdomen with her. “What are you doing?”
“Returning the favor,” he said, tugging on the tie strings holding her bikini bottom together.
“Daryl, I don’t have any sand in my suit.”
“Maybe we should check.”
“Oh, yeah, well, maybe we should check yours first.” She thrust her hand deep, smiling up at him when she felt his erection. “We need to get all this gritty old sand off.” Dipping lower, she made a production of brushing the sand from his testicles, swishing water around them.
“Ash-ley.” His jaw ached from gritting his teeth, but he really didn’t want to get hot and bothered in the water. On a public beach. He closed his hand over her arm, pulling her hand out of his pants before he embarrassed both of them.
She giggled.
He pulled her into his arms and reveled in the feel of her against him as they swayed with the incoming waves.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice husky with the emotions racing through him.
“For what?”
They watched her breasts rub against his chest with each wave breaking against them.
“For inviting me,” he finally answered. “It was a great idea.” In more ways than one.
“About this morning…”
“Yeah? What about it?” Beneath his suit, his cock perked up again at the thought of sex with Ashley.
“It was…Will you stop untying my bottoms? I could lose them.”
Waggling his eyebrows, he said, “That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Well, I’m not! How would I get back to the house bottomless?”
“But think of how much fun we could have here in the water without them.” The flutter-smooth touch inside his suit made him grow impossibly harder. “If you’re not interested, why are your hands in my pants?”
“My hands aren’t in your pants.”
12
“What do you mean your hands aren’t in my pants?” He knew what he felt.
To demonstrate, she held up both hands.
Strange. The caressing sensation continued.
Horrifying reality dawned.
Hopping around, he tore at his waistband. “What the hell is in my pants?”
Ashley grinned and started to make a smart-ass comeback, then realized he wasn’t joking. Something really was in Daryl’s pants. Something besides Daryl.
He continued to flail around, hopping and jumping, his hand buried to the elbow in his swimsuit.
“Oh, my!” She began hopping along with him. “What if it’s a snake? Do they have snakes in the Gulf? Can water moccasins live in salt water?”
Daryl glared at her. “Thanks a lot. I wasn’t worried until you opened your mouth.” Did poisonous snakes live in salt water? He suddenly wished he’d paid more attention in his science classes.
His hand finally touched something besides his own terrified body. Something cool and slick. When he closed his fingers around it, it began a fast shimmy. Retaining his grip, he pulled it from his trunks.
Light reflected off silvery gold scales a second before the fish slipped from his grasp and reentered the water with a splash.
Ashley sagged against him. “Not a snake. Thank the Lord! What was that, a sunfish?”
“Looked like it. Doesn’t matter. I’m just glad it’s out.”
“Do you have a valid fishing license?” Ashley sputtered at her wit. “I know you have the pole.” Her laughter carried across the water.
“Ha. Ha. You’re a riot, Ash.” He took her hand, recalling his plans of a few minutes ago. “Let’s go back to the house and take a nap.”
“Um, Daryl?” Sobered, she glanced around.
“Hmm?”
“We have, um, a problem.”
He stopped tugging on her hand and cocked his eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“I seem to have lost the bottom of my bikini.”
Under normal circumstances, especially since becoming her lover, Daryl would have been pleased at the idea of a bottomless Ashley. Easy access.
And, although the idea still had certain merits as well as a titillating possibility, the reality was a mood breaker.
Even if they could ignore protocol and have raunchy sex in the buoyant salt water, there was the problem of getting Ashley back to the beach house afterward without, well, exposure. Not to mention the very real possibility of her being turned off by the entire prospect.
He couldn’t blame her. And giving her his suit wouldn’t help the situation.
“Plan B. Stay here and I’ll go get the beach blanket. You can wrap up in it, and then we’ll go back to the house.”
“So we can have sex? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” Hands on hips, she glared at him.
Yep, definitely a mood breaker.
Breath whooshed out. “No,” he insisted. “Well, okay, it crossed my mind. Don’t give me that look. I’m a guy. We always think about sex. It’s in our DNA. But I didn’t mean go back to the house to have sex. Not now, anyway. I thought you might want to go parasailing.” They’d discussed it earlier. He kissed the tip of her nose. “And, while I wouldn’t mind, other people might be offended if you went bottomless.”
Her shoulders slumped. “That was embarrassing. I’m such a loser. Forget I said anything, okay?”
“Which time?”
“Shut up and go get the blanket.”
“I think I’m permanently deaf in my right ear.” Daryl dropped onto the sagging sofa in the beach house living room. “Anyone ever tell you your voice could break glass?”
“I was scared. A lot of people scream when they’re scared. Even when they’re having fun, like on a roller coaster.” She bent to sweep away their sandy footprints with the damp beach towel.
“So you’re saying you were screaming because you were having fun?”
“No, I was terrified.” She smiled. “But I’m glad we went. One more thing to check off my to-do list.”
“Of things to do before you die?”
She shuddered. “Don’t mention death and parasailing, please. No, I meant cross off of our list of things to do while we’re on vacation.”
“You actually made a list?”
The damp towel hit his face.
“Forget the dang list, Daryl. There is no list. Geez, you’re so literal. I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
“‘Kay,” he mumbled, eyes closed.
Was he that worn out? She reached for the straps of her maillot and peeled it down her legs.
“Daryl? Are you asleep?” She walked toward him on her way to the bathroom. “Want to take a shower together?”
His eyes popped open, then widened at her nudity.
“Oh, yeah.”
By the time the water was hot, Daryl was naked and kissing her in the way that always curled her toes. Though she was turned on, a part of her mind couldn’t help comparing his kisses to Andre’s that first night they were together at the Halloween party. Maybe time had dulled her memories. Daryl’s kisses were every bit as potent as Andre’s had been that night, maybe even more.
After the obligatory shower sex to take the edge off, they leisurely soaped up.
Ashley had to lock her knees as she enjoyed Daryl’s sensuous massage in order to keep from dissolving into a puddle on the bottom of the old tub. She loved the roughness of his palms where they slid around her breasts, his thumbs flicking her nipples, causing them to pucker.
He turned her to face the spray and rinsed her off, making sure every trace of soap was gone from her aching
folds.
A squeak escaped her lips when he lifted her to stand on the edge of the tub, her feet slipping precariously on the slick enamel surface.
“Spread you legs for me, darlin’.” His voice echoed in the steam of their shower.
Eager to comply, she slid her right foot to the side. Unfortunately, her left foot wanted to follow, and the next horrifying second, cool air engulfed her as she felt herself falling.
With a shriek, she simultaneously grabbed for Daryl and the shower curtain in her attempt to regain her balance.
It didn’t work.
Ashley peered from behind her magazine at Daryl, who was holding a frozen corn dog on his eye. “Do you think we’ll have to pay for the shower curtain?”
He grunted.
“How’s your eye?”
Another grunt, then he lowered the corn dog and glared through the swollen flesh surrounding his right eye. “Do I have a black eye?”
“Not yet. It’s swollen and still sort of, um, colorful.”
He growled and took a vicious bite off the end of the corn dog, then stuck the blunt end against his injured eye while chewing vigorously.
“Isn’t that still frozen? I can cook it for you, if you’re hungry.”
He swallowed. “I bit off the end to get to the colder part. But thanks, anyway,” he added.
She peeked through her lashes at him. Even with a swollen eye, he was still cute. And sexy. She’d always known he was those things but thought his sexiness more of an illusion brought on by the assumption she would never have firsthand knowledge. Sort of like lusting after something or someone unattainable.
Was he still unattainable?
Their sex vacation could have the potential for morphing into something more, couldn’t it?
“Daryl?”
“Hmm?”
“I had a good time today. I know we always have a good time together, but I meant, um, sexually. You were probably the best time I’ve ever had, in fact.”
He slowly lowered the corn dog. “Probably?”
“Okay, the best.” She hurried on. “The only reason I said probably was because the first time Andre and I—”
Daryl held up his hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s a big secret. I lived with him for almost two years. You lived there, too, for most of that time. You had to know we—”
“I said stop!” Tossing the corn dog in the general vicinity of the trash, he strode toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Hurrying across the room, she slammed her hand against the closed door. “Don’t leave. Please. If it bothers you to hear about other stuff, well, I just won’t talk about it. Okay?” Pulling on the front of his T-shirt, she tugged him closer. “I don’t want to fight.” Her lips brushed his.
“What do you want to do?” His arms pulled her closer still.
She rubbed against his obvious erection. “I don’t know. I thought maybe we could go in the bedroom and, um, see what comes up.”
“Oh, yeah? I was thinking maybe we could go out on the porch and watch the sunset…and see what comes up.”
She smiled up at him, her fingers toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I like that idea. We could make margaritas with the mix we bought.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He turned her toward the kitchen, lightly tapping her butt. “I’ll help this time.”
“That was not my fault this afternoon! I think it must be a defective blender.”
“And I maintain it’s operator error. Let’s check it out.”
Plunking the big bottle of tequila on the counter next to the blender, she narrowed her eyes. “Okay, you do it this time. The measuring cup is behind you. I’ll get the ice and glasses.”
“Did we bring extra blankets?” Daryl measured the tequila, then the liquid mixer and dumped them in the blender, following up with the bowl of ice. “It would be more comfortable to sit on than the old wooden deck chairs.”
“You’re probably right. That way, too, if it gets cool, we’ll have something to wrap up in. Ready?”
Nodding, he pushed the button, filling the room with so much noise, talking would be impossible. The last chunk of ice made the blender vibrate and dance toward the edge of the scarred yellow counter.
“Catch it!” Her voice was barely audible above the growling whir of the blender.
Daryl’s hands closed around the base just before the top blew off, greenish yellow slush spewing up and over both of them.
Ashley jumped back but not before a stream of sticky, cold margaritas-in-progress hit her face, streaming down into the neck of the clean pink knit shirt she’d just put on. Groaning, she stepped back. Coldness seared the bottom of her bare foot as it slid out from under her. Slipping and sliding in the mess, she lost her footing for the second time that day.
Flailing her arms to regain her balance, she knocked the blender out of Daryl’s hands, sending the rest of the mixture flowing down on them.
Eyes closed, she took a deep breath, thankful she hadn’t fallen again. And that she hadn’t dragged Daryl down along with her. He certainly didn’t need another black eye.
Daryl’s laughter filled the little kitchen.
Opening her eyes, she glared at him. “It’s not funny. It’s like we’re jinxed.” Tightening her lips to keep from joining in on the laughter, she added, “And I really wanted a margarita.”
“We can try again. Or, if you’re really thirsty, we can always clean up and walk down to the crab shack. Theirs are pretty good.”
Sighing, she looked around at the recent devastation. “You don’t understand. I wanted our margaritas. I wanted to sit on the porch and drink them, enjoying the ambience of being at a beach house. Enjoying spending time with you. And if you laugh at me, I swear I’m going to clock you.”
He pulled her to him, ignoring her wince when their sticky wet skin and clothing touched. “I’m not laughing. I was looking forward to that stuff, too.” Without warning, he licked the side of her face. “Mmm. I may have discovered a better way to enjoy my margaritas.” His tongue outlined her ear with an exaggerated slurping sound. “We can lick it off of each other,” he whispered in her ear, setting off a flash fire of goose bumps.
13
Ashley sighed and rolled to her side, her skin slightly sticking to Daryl’s despite the vigorous tongue bath they’d both recently enjoyed.
He pressed his lips to her temple, a feeling of such contentment and satisfaction threatening to overwhelm him that he wished he could freeze-frame their time together.
“I’m glad we decided to take a chance on this,” Ashley said, her arm securely across his belly.
He grunted in reply. Glad was such a tame word for what he was feeling. But he knew he had to take it slow with Ashley, even if it killed him. She’d jumped into her last two relationships. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to fear making another mistake. Of course, she didn’t realize it was because she’d chosen the wrong guy the last two times. Unfortunately, it was something she would have to discover for herself.
He could wait for her to come to the realization they belonged together.
Their breathing slowly became normal again.
“Why couldn’t we have done this years ago?” she persisted.
He kissed her nose and nuzzled her neck before saying, “Timing.” He toyed with her nipple, hoping to distract her from the conversation she seemed intent on developing.
“I suppose,” she said, tilting her head to give him better access to kiss her neck. “Lord knows my timing hasn’t been great. Take Andre, for instance. He’d asked me out literally dozens of times before we got together. I suppose, even though I thought he was moderately attractive, the timing just wasn’t right for us then, either.”
“Ancient history. In the past. You don’t have to talk about it, Ash.”
“But why do you suppose it worked out like it did? The sex, that first time, was beyond orgasmic. Then I moved i
n with him, and it was like I was sleeping with a stranger.”
“Ash, really, you don’t have to talk about it.” Please. It still smarted to realize she’d had mind-blowing sex with him and his roommate on the same evening. To add insult to injury, to know she’d chosen Andre over him.
“Then, crazy as it seems, I found myself attracted to Connor at odd moments. I don’t know, maybe it was the way he looked at me all the time. Did you ever notice that?”
Yeah, he’d noticed it, and frankly, it creeped him out. Not to mention it made him jealous as hell. He certainly did not need to hear she had been looking back.
“And what did I do?” Ashley was clearly on a streak and had no intention of taking his subtle hints. “I fell right into bed with Connor. It was okay, but not nearly what I’d expected. Especially after everything I’d heard over the years about his, well, prowess. But did I let that deter me? Heck, no. I kept pushing and pushing until I found myself engaged to the guy.” She climbed up to straddle his naked hips. “I’m fortunate he realized we were making a huge mistake, because otherwise we would have been married by now.”
Obviously Ash was not taking hints. “Could we not talk about other guys while we’re naked in bed together, Ash?”
She dropped down for a quick hug. “Sorry. I guess it’s just because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re such a good listener. I feel like I can tell you anything.” Her chuckle jiggled her breasts against his chest in a disconcerting way. “Of course, that is your job, isn’t it?”
He flipped her to her back, taking his weight on his elbows. “Yes, and, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not working right now.”
“What exactly are you doing?” Smiling, she wiggled against his erection.
“If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.” Grinding himself against her softness, he breathed a sigh of relief that he’d been able to distract her from her conversational track.
“Um, Daryl? Didn’t we use the last condom this afternoon?”
“Just the first box.” He pushed her into a sitting position and cupped her breasts. “I love your breasts.”
I love you. Her eyes widened. That couldn’t be right. She’d known Daryl Garrett practically all her life. If she was going to fall in love with him, she’d have done it long before now.
