Walk on the Wild Side

by Natalie Anderson

  She might be different, but she wasn’t crazy.

  She got into the car and scooted the driver’s seat forward again so her feet could reach the pedals. He was back in a minute as he’d said, clutching an uber-hip recyclable shopping bag with the store’s logo.

  ‘You have friends in there?’

  He just winked, chucking the bag on the back seat and fixing the legroom in the passenger seat. ‘You sure you’re OK to drive?’

  With a flourish she curled her fingers round the steering wheel. ‘I’m fine.’

  He leaned close. ‘No more urgent grooming matters to attend to?’ His voice was the auditory equivalent of chocolate sauce—warm and smooth and ready for a berry to be dipped in it.

  ‘I think the pedestrian population is safe now,’ she muttered, trying to get her pulse to stop its rapid acceleration.

  ‘Great. Then take the first left.’

  She did exactly that and in only a hundred metres or so had to stop—a red light. Naturally. But as she paused he leaned across her seat, reaching his long arm down between her legs.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped. ‘I’m trying to drive.’ She lifted both hands from the wheel, undecided if she should throttle him—his head was basically in her lap!

  ‘Stop it.’ Actually she didn’t mean that. She was thinking all kinds of things she shouldn’t be, what with seeing his dark head hovering just above her thigh like that…

  Not wriggling was really difficult. So was not crashing the car. ‘We’re at a red light. I’m trying to concentrate.’

  And that was so impossible right now. He moved his hand, his shoulder rubbed against her thigh as he jerked on the handbrake between them. Then he went south again—deep south. His hand encircled her ankle, lifted it for a half second as he slipped her shoe off.

  ‘Jack!’ Another totally girly gasp.

  He sat back, a smile of success creasing every feature, as her shoe sat in the palm of his hand. ‘You can’t drive safely wearing these. You can’t do anything safely wearing these.’

  ‘I can and do,’ she said breathlessly. ‘If you were as short as me, and plainly you’re not, then you’d understand. As it is, you can’t possibly get it.’

  ‘I just want to get there in one piece.’

  She blew out a big shot of air and finally realised she had to take the brake off as the car behind tooted impatiently.

  Irritatingly, it was easier to drive barefoot—but she wasn’t going to admit it to him. ‘That was really dangerous.’

  ‘No more dangerous than you combing your hair at a red light. At least this time you had your handbrake on.’

  ‘Where are we going anyway?’ She chose to change the subject.

  ‘Straight ahead for now.’ He gave her a sideways look that was full of a charming smile. ‘Are you OK driving on the hills?’

  ‘Stop trying to get into the driver’s seat. I’m fine with hills.’ She bit the inside of her cheek. OK, so she wasn’t that fine with them, but damned if she was going to let him know that.

  ‘There are a few hairpin corners. I can take over if you want.’

  In response she trod harder on the accelerator. In only a few minutes they were heading up the hill out of town towards the peninsula that curved out from the mainland. The hills were barren and brown—no trees or scrub covering them, just tussock that leaned away from the wind. Against the bright blue sky the hills were majestic. She liked their stark smoothness and the contrast against the clear sky and blue water. But then came one of those hairpin turns.

  ‘You want the air conditioning on?’

  So he’d noticed she was sweating.

  ‘It doesn’t work.’ One of the many idiosyncrasies of the car that one day she’d get fixed.

  ‘You should walk in town anyway.’

  She sent him a look.

  ‘Carbon footprint,’ he said mock piously.

  ‘My heels don’t leave much of a footprint anyway.’

  He laughed and didn’t talk more, didn’t need to direct as there was only the one road to follow. And she needed to concentrate and not be further distracted by the giant hunk of man making her car feel like a matchbox toy. But after the worst hill bit she began to relax into it, able to take in the expansive view of bronze earth and blue sky and sparkling water. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice—as if they were leaving all the clutter and noise of city life behind them.

  ‘So why do your batteries need recharging, Kelsi? What do you do that’s made you so worn out?’

  ‘Computers,’ she said. ‘Website design.’

  ‘You sit in front of a screen all day?’

  ‘And you want to know the shocking thing?’ She grinned and touched the accelerator with a heavier tread. ‘I like it.’

  He shook his head. ‘Crazy.’

  He told her to take the left when the road forked. The gravel road dipped, leading down to sea level. And then it ended. She pulled in, parking beneath one of the few trees around. She stepped out of the car, uncomfortably hobbling on the one shoe. He got the bag off the back seat and pulled something from it.

  ‘What is that?’ She stared at it.

  He twirled it on his finger and grinned outrageously. ‘It isn’t obvious?’

  ‘And you think I’m going to wear it?’

  ‘The store didn’t stock sunscreen. And I’m betting you don’t have any in that uselessly small bag of yours.’

  No, she didn’t. Because she always, always, always stayed in the shade. Resigned, she took the wide-brimmed monstrosity of a hat from him and slapped it on her head.

  ‘I have a wrap for your shoulders, too.’

  She took the long stretch of cloth and reminded herself to avoid looking in his eyes. They made her want to smile too much. And they were filled with a fire she longed to feel on her flesh. Crazy—she definitely needed a day to recharge.

  ‘I had the feeling you’d like the colour.’

  It was jet black. Like every item of clothing she already had on.

  ‘How astute of you.’ She wrapped it around her shoulders and walked a few paces. Then she stopped. ‘How am I supposed to walk on this?’

  ‘Maybe you should take your other shoe off. Get your feet wet.’

  ‘Get my feet dirty, you mean.’ She looked at the sand and barely suppressed a shudder. ‘I hate the beach. All the little biting insects come to get me. You can see them circling overhead, ready to dive-bomb and sink their teeth in.’

  ‘You must have sweet blood.’

  ‘Now who’s the one sounding like a vampire?’ She had to send him an arch look. ‘I don’t like sand either. It sticks everywhere and my skin gets itchy.’

  ‘Guess we won’t be rolling in the waves, then, huh?’

  ‘Pardon?’ She stopped walking.

  ‘Surfing,’ he explained, the twinkle gleaming brighter in his eyes. ‘You don’t want to surf? I know where I can get a couple of wetsuits.’

  ‘I don’t surf and I definitely don’t wear wetsuits.’ She shuddered even more obviously.

  He laughed. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you don’t even swim in the sea.’

  ‘Never,’ she admitted with embarrassment. ‘I’d rather be in a private pool.’

  ‘With all those chemicals?’

  OK, so she knew she was pathetic. But she couldn’t resist sparring with him a little. ‘Isn’t the sea more polluted?’

  ‘Not this bit of beach.’

  She put her hand to her heart in drama academy style. ‘But there might be sharks.’

  ‘Or friendly dolphins.’

  ‘Jellyfish.’ She fluttered her fingers in his face.

  ‘Starfish and shells to admire.’ He caught her hands and held them still in front of him, smiling widely. ‘Face it, you can’t win on this. Nature might bring its dangers, but its beauty makes them worth the risk.’

  Kelsi couldn’t think of another argument—too distracted by the marvel of nature right in front of her. What with the sea/sky-b
lue eyes and the slightly shaggy dark hair and the golden skin, he was quite the gorgeous surfie type. Easygoing and relaxed in nature but with no fat, just pure, lean muscle in his body—she could feel his potential strength even from the light grip he had on her.

  Anticipation licked through her. She hadn’t been in the company of anyone so attractive in a long, long time. OK, ever.

  Pure guy candy.

  She suddenly realised she was breathless—almost panting—and they hadn’t even begun the slight climb over the sand dune down to the water. She pulled her hands free of his and made herself stop visually feasting on him. It was a wonder she wasn’t drooling. She knew she was blushing so she made a show of looking around so he couldn’t see the stain rising on her cheeks.

  There wasn’t another car in the car park, and not another soul on the small curve of beach. No boats in the distance on the horizon. They could have been the only two people on all the earth for all she knew.

  It was a surprisingly liberating thought.

  When she turned back he kicked off his shoes and pointedly stared at the one left on her foot. She sighed but removed the darn thing, ignoring how nice the soft, warm sand felt as her toes sank into it.

  This was crazy. Totally crazy. She was at a remote beach with a complete stranger. She was in the sun.

  But it was heavenly.

  She glanced at him as he strolled easily beside her. His limp was almost imperceptible now—thank goodness. But he was grinning like a wolf who knew everything.

  ‘What?’ She pulled herself together and tried to recover her wits.

  He laughed then and she knew it was too late—she was already succumbing to the power of the environment. Even though she knew the sand flies were lining up preparing their attack, even though she could already feel the burning power of the sun. What did it matter when her lungs could fill and stretch with fresh, clean air? What did it matter when she was accompanied by a guy who was like a summer sprite—full of fun and sun and sexiness?

  The hard ball of stress wedged just above her stomach softened. The office was miles away, computers miles away, pressure miles away. Instead there was just the beautiful blue of the sea and the sky stretching as far as she could see. And the warmth under her feet and on her skin thawed the cold inside her, too.

  She walked to the edge of the water, aware that a metre or so away he’d taken a few steps into it so the waves lapped over his ankles. She turned away from him, gazing at the bronze hills behind them and then back to the deep blue but, all the while, so incredibly aware of the picture of male beauty he made. She walked alongside the edge, listening to the gentle splashes his feet made as he walked two paces to the side and behind her.

  ‘So what’s your favourite season, then?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Winter, right?’

  ‘Yes.’ She grinned at her own predictability.

  ‘Mine, too.’

  ‘No way.’ Surprised, she turned and walked backwards to look at him.

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I spend my life chasing winter.’

  She frowned. ‘But you’re so tanned.’

  He laughed. ‘Because I’m here for the summer recovering.’ He bent and rubbed his hand over his knee. ‘This is an old injury—you didn’t do that with the car before.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I had an operation a couple weeks ago. I’m about to go for a rehab stint in Canada. Get back into training.’

  ‘Training for what?’

  He grinned a little sheepishly. ‘I snowboard.’

  She stopped walking altogether. ‘For a living?’

  ‘Professional snowboarder. Yes.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Wow. No wonder he looked so fit. She had to stifle a giggle. She’d never got this close to a professional athlete before. ‘So.’ She coughed. ‘You’re training for the Olympics?’

  ‘The Olympics aren’t for a couple more years, there’s some other big comps before then but, yes, the Olympics are on the horizon.’

  He really was serious? ‘Have you been to other Olympics?’

  He grinned. OMG he had.

  ‘I went as a demonstration last time but at the next Olympics mine is an official event. The first gold is coming home with me,’ he said. The grin had gone—now he was utterly, utterly serious.

  And, oh, my, she believed him. ‘So you go from season to season—here to Canada?’

  ‘Or France, China.’ He nodded. ‘Wherever has the best snow.’

  ‘And you work on the ski field or have sponsors or something?’

  Surprise flashed in his eyes for a second. She didn’t mean to embarrass him, but she didn’t think professional snowboarders would get paid all that much. It wasn’t exactly football and on the front page all the time.

  ‘Uh, something like that.’ He nodded. ‘You ever snow-boarded?’

  She shook her head and turned back to walk along the shoreline.

  ‘Skied?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But I thought you liked winter.’

  ‘I do.’ She wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘I like curling up in front of a fire.’

  ‘That’s what you do after the day on the slopes.’

  She mock shuddered again.

  ‘You should try it some time.’ His amusement warmed his words. ‘You’ll see I’m right. Like I’m right about this.’

  She heard a big splash and turned in time to see him kick again—sending a spray of water up, splashing the hem of her dress.

  ‘It’s not so hard, is it?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’ She looked at him, the heat deep in her belly bubbling now.

  ‘Admitting defeat.’

  She moved towards him, unthinkingly taking a step into the water. It wasn’t as cold as she’d expected. So she took another.

  Tanned, relaxed, utterly at home, he smiled at her. All confident. All successful. All gorgeous.

  And interested. She couldn’t believe it but there was no way she was misinterpreting the wickedness in his smile. No man had ever looked at her with such obvious attraction. Never a man as gorgeous as him.

  It was intoxicating—making her feel powerful and beautiful and bolder than she’d ever been in her life. All of a sudden super-vixen urges surged high. Crazy, wanton, wild feelings. And in the madness of the midday sun she let them all out.

  ‘You’ve made me wet,’ she said. Her gaze locked to his, she let him see her willingness. ‘But if you’re going to do that, you could at least do it properly.’

  His brows lifted and the splashes sounded less gentle as he walked closer. His eyes sparkled more blindingly than the reflection of the sun on the water and his smile softened to intimate. His voice was on the same wave—wonderful. ‘How wet do you want to get?’

  Excitement shot through her, stiffening every muscle. She tilted her head back so she could keep the eye contact as he came right into her space. ‘How wet can you make me?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  JACK’S hands moved, the very tips of fingers first caressing her collarbones, then lifting to cup her jaw. ‘You want to drown?’

  Kelsi already was. In the rampant desire flooding her system. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  She closed her eyes against the sun as he bent towards her. His lips merely grazed hers—a light rubbing back and forth—until she parted her mouth more and reached onto tiptoe to demand a heavier pressure.

  She got it. His hand shifted to the back of her head, holding her firmly as his tongue delved into her hungry mouth. He stroked her—hot and powerful and with unmistakable purpose. The explicitness only excited her more. The force of her need took her by surprise—roaring through her as he unleashed the sensual strength she’d sensed he had. She’d been attracted to him from the moment she’d recovered enough to actually see him after the accident. But even so she hadn’t realised the extent of the chemistry she’d feel with him—that any hesitation or caution or modesty would be flung far from her at the first kiss.

  ‘Kelsi,’ he muttered,
breaking a few millimetres away. ‘I fly out to Canada tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ she said, half dazed and desperate to touch her mouth to his again.

  He half laughed, half groaned. ‘Yeah, but—’

  ‘It’s OK, Jack,’ she said, stroking his jaw with her fingers. ‘Let’s just enjoy this afternoon.’

  On this beach with its infinite grains of sand and the water that would ebb and flow for ever, she felt as if this afternoon could be as endless as the number of stars in the sky. The fact there’d be no tomorrow was just perfect—there’d be no rejection then either. She’d had too much of that in the past. But she could be free if there was just the here and now.

  He looked closely into her eyes, until he was seemingly satisfied with what he saw. As he should be—because it was her total submission to the spark between them. To how wanted he made her feel. And how much she wanted. Her ‘on’ button had been pushed—but even she hadn’t known she was capable of such thermonuclear heat.

  He was so tall she had to bend back to kiss him, but that was good because it pushed her body hard against his. She felt the impact of the contact shuddering through every cell. Every nerve pinged with the need to know more of him—all of him—her body hummed for completion.

  She rotated her hips, unable to remain still when there was the pleasure of him to be had. He slid his arms right around her, one hand low on her back pushing her even closer, and then he rocked, too, mimicking the movement of sex, making her want their bodies to be sealed—submerged.

  In seconds she reached flashpoint. Moaning into his mouth as sexual energy rocketed around her body, desperate for release. He broke apart again and she moaned louder. But he walked around her, pressing kisses on her face and neck as she panted. His fingers traced over her shoulders, playing with the thin straps of her dress. Until he stood behind her, both of them facing out to the horizon. But she was unable to see it, lost in the sense of intimacy he’d spun around her.