A Perfect Holiday

by Riley Murphy

  “Well, you would have known them forever.”

  He chuckled. Not because of the answer, it was more the way she gave it. The ‘forever’ came out in three overdramatic syllables.

  “The best marriage philosophy I’ve heard from a student? No one decides who they’re going to marry. Only God decides and it isn’t until you get to be really old, like twenty, that you find out who you’re gonna be stuck with for the rest of your life.”

  That made him laugh. “It’s a wonder we don’t have a generation of single people walking around.”

  She plunked her glass down and playfully sniffed. “We could, but they’d all be girls as boys need to get married so they have someone to clean up after them.”

  “Ouch. Now who’s being cynical?”

  “Out of the mouths of babes.” She waggled her brows at him again and he’d be damned but he loved it. “Your turn.”

  “I’m afraid your ears would fall off if I told you some of the stuff that comes out of the mouths of contractors.”

  “You’re not getting out of it. Time to spill.”

  Leaning forward he said, “I assure you, I’m not trying to get out of it. The truth is now that I’ve been forced to find something amusing in my work I find there’s nothing to laugh at. Maybe I should just tell you the things that make me cry.”

  “Suit yourself.” She waved an arm across the table in a flourish. “The floor is yours.”

  “Okay. I once had to bid on a paint job because the wife of this poor bastard found out that he’d painted around the furniture. Every goddamn stick of it.”

  She blinked and then laughed. The sound warmed him up and also encouraged him. Soon he found his clients’ faux pas pouring out of him one jury-rig after another.

  He saved the best for last, though. “Then there was the guy, again a rush job. He and his wife had company coming and they’d broken their built-in bed. It was a one piece job, headboard and night tables all in one. Made out of teak and screwed into the wall with lag bolts. I didn’t want to ask how it broke but I had some ideas. Anyway, there I am trying hard to get what wasn’t broken unattached from the wall so I could take the whole thing back to the shop to repair it when I wedge my foot between the wall and a night stand only to stumble on his stash.”

  “No,” she leaned forward and slapped a palm on the table. “You found some marijuana?”

  He leaned forward too, keeping his eyes peeled to gauge her reaction. “No, it was much more interesting than that.”

  “It was?” she whispered. Curling forward, she breathed, “What did you find?”

  “The guy’s porn collection.”

  “P-Porn?”

  He loved the way her cheeks went all red and her eyes widened as if he’d just caught her red-handed watching one of them. “Yeah. He had all the old classics, too. Linda Lovelace in Deep Throat, Debbie Does Dallas and The Best of the Well Hung Heroes.”

  “The Best of the…?”

  “Well Hung Heroes,” he succinctly repeated. “Have you seen that one?” He knew she hadn’t because he made it up. He just wanted to see her squirm a little bit. She was cute when she squirmed.

  “No, I—I mean, why would I have seen something like that?” She sat back and quickly changed the subject. “Did you get it fixed for the guy?”

  “Of course, but it cost him.”

  “I imagine it did. I’ve heard teak is expensive.”

  He reached across the table and brushed her bangs to one side, countering the intimate gesture by grinning, “I wasn’t talking about the wood. I was talking about his collection”

  “You stole his stash?”

  Those words bursting out of her made him laugh. “Of course not. He gave it to me when I went to hand them over to him in front of the wife. According to him, he’d never seen the videos before. Which was kind of odd because he actually teared up when I put them in my truck.”

  Her head fell back and she laughed. Deep. Rich. Husky. And the urge to drag her across the table and kiss her until she quieted was so strong he nearly caved into it.

  Before he did she looked right at him and thrust a finger. “You made that up.”

  Shaking his head he assured, “Like you, I wish I had. The poor bastard. I don’t know about you, but when I find a decent raunchy flick you’d need a crowbar to get it out of my hands. They’re so hard to find, you know?”

  That question was met with silence. She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t smiling even. No, what she was doing was stripping him again with those eyes.

  “Sidney?”

  She tore her gaze off his chest and looked up. “Yes?”

  “Do you want to go for a swim?”

  “A s-swim?”

  “Yeah” He nodded. “I put on my bathing suit and you—”

  “Yes.”

  She’d answered that so fast any lingering doubt he had about her being an angle-off-limits was gone. She had a dirty little adventurous side just dying to come out and meet him. He was sure of it. Just as he was sure they’d be watching pornos together by nightfall. With that in mind, he wanted to keep everything in a forward motion.

  “I’ll take care of this stuff before I get changed.”

  Standing she asked, “Are you sure I can’t help?”

  “I got this.” He waited until she reached the stairs. “Sid?”

  She spun around.

  “It’s a scorcher out here. Do you have sunscreen?”

  “Oh yeah. I won’t forget to put some on.”

  She’d almost turned away but his next words had her looking at him again. “Actually I was asking for me. I left mine up at the house and you know what this Florida sun can do to you.”

  “You want my cream?”

  Oh yeah. “Will you bring it down?” He stared right at her. “I’ll do your back if you do mine.”

  “O-Ohay.” She cleared her throat several times as she attempted to recover from her Scooby Doo-like slip. “I mean, okay, I’ll meet you back here in thirty.”

  Turning, she bolted up the stairs so fast he didn’t get a chance to answer her. Instead he called, “Don’t forget the sun-cream.”

  Sexy, gorgeous, adorable and he added athletic to the list when he saw how fast she’d shot up those steps. Tilting his head, he followed her progress. She probably had great muscle tone. Strong thighs for sure. Now about those knees—he waited for her door to shut—he wondered if they were weak? No problem if they weren’t because they would be soon. Very soon.

  Maybe he could bring up her porn again after swimming. Eventually he’d get her to come clean over that and when she did it was bound to break some serious ice.

  Sidney closed the door and didn’t stop. She ran right into her bedroom and whipped open her dresser drawer. God may have taken a day to rest, but for her there wasn’t a moment to spare. If she was going to work her miracle, i.e. finding a bathing suit that made those extra pounds disappear, she needed every last one of those thirty minutes.

  “I should have said an hour,” she muttered as she pulled out a skimpy black and white string bikini. Holding it up, she groaned. “Why do you torture yourself, Sid? The last time you fit into this sucker you were sixteen and nothing jiggled when you walked.”

  She shook her head, tossed the set over her shoulder and pulled out another. “Green? Seriously?” She tossed that and then grabbed another. “Metallic? Stunning. Not.”

  “Ha! The old dependable iron-side.” It was nothing fancy. A plain black one-piece with high-cut legs. Couldn’t go wrong with a classic.

  Of course once she put it on and had a gander she realized there were several ways this could go wrong that had nothing to do with the bathing suit. She looked like Casper’s twin sister and the black wasn’t helping.

  Maybe? She rifled through her medicine cabinet and bathroom vanity. Drat, no self-tanner, not that it would instantly look good but it might have taken the edge off the pastiness.

  Huffing her bangs aside she critically eyed herself in the
mirror. Turning while on tiptoe she was hopeful but then? Who was she kidding? She’d never be one of his supermodel skinny, blonde, beach ball breasted women. That realization made her land on flat feet with a small stumble. It wasn’t until she spied her diploma and numerous awards hanging in the hall that she got reinvigorated. Sure, she wasn’t a woman with numerously purchased assets, but she was reasonably smart with the added bonus of looking to experiment sexually. That had to bring something to the table or bed, as it were. All she had to do was convince him and the best way to do that was to find some cover.

  “Ah ha!”

  Chapter Four

  Riker took one look at her and sat up straighter in the patio chair. Holy hell, she’d been sleeping under him for six fucking months and he hadn’t ever noticed her? And she watched porn no less. Damn. “Nice wrap.”

  He didn’t know what color you’d call it. Maybe sky blue? All he knew for sure was that it was sheer, short and tight. It didn’t screw with his view of her legs which pleased the hell out of him.

  “Thanks.”

  She did the hair twirl thing again and he hissed in a breath. “I see you brought the sun cream.”

  “Sure did. Can I do you?”

  Oh hell yeah, she could do him. “Sure.” He stood up and walked over to her. There was no way he was going horizontal for this. He turned and presented his back. He even bent his knees so she had a better reach. “Good?”

  “Yes.”

  Half a minute in he was thinking he should have gone horizontal. Talk about weak knees. The way she rubbed it in, the way she pressed and dragged her hand over his shoulder blades, it was lover-like and fucking slow. Torture. She moved over the surface of his skin as if she were enjoying every bit, loving it, and if he guessed, this wasn’t because she had aspirations of being a masseuse either. She was squeezing on him like he was a ripe piece of fruit she was looking to pick—she cupped his hip—fuck pick, devour.

  “Do you want me to do the backs of your legs?”

  “No.” His voice was hoarse, a clear sign she’d gotten to him. Had she noticed? Before he thought better of it, he turned. “If you take off your wrap, I’ll do you.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded without backing away. “Yeah, I’ll do your front and back if you like.”

  He waited. Watched. Sweated while she took off her wrap. She was almost shy about it. Definitely quiet when she answered, “Just my back. Thanks.”

  She handed him the cream and he didn’t know why he was on edge. He never got nervous and here he was nervous as hell. “Standing up or would you prefer to—”

  She turned her back to him and murmured, “Standing. Thanks”

  Her suit cut in a deep scoop. And when she brought her arms up to collect her hair off her shoulders the elegant lines of her back shifted and moved. Her skin was flawless with the exception of a beauty mark to the right on one shoulder blade. That’s what he homed in on now. What he wanted to touch.

  He squirted some lotion in the center of his palm and went right to town on her with one hand. Starting at that tempting beauty mark and working out from there. And when she shivered because he stroked too fast, his muscles tensed. Her automatic response told him one thing. She was sensitive and completely in tune with her body. He continued in that downward path until he reached the elastic ribbing of her suit. Just to test his theory out he let two fingers slip beneath the fabric to skate across the delicate dimples at the base of her spine.

  Damn, she swayed and with that sexier-than-hell reaction his libido went from idling to revved up and ready. He better get his hands off her and some distance between them or he might be tempted to touch her in places he had no business touching…yet.

  “Do you want me to do the backs of your legs?” He straightened and stepped away. Ready to snap the lid on the bottle, as he was positive she’d decline because—

  “Yes, please.”

  He did a double take. Yes? Yes. She let down her hair and it swung back and forth, almost hypnotizing him. Between the coconut scent from the cream and the crisp citrus scent riding the tiny breeze created by the movement of those silky tresses, he was left paralyzed and unsure about what to do next. If he put his hands on those long, naked and toned legs of hers he’d be a goner.

  “Calves.” He stopped and cleared his throat. His voice sounded gritty like he’d been chewing on sand. “Do you want me to do your calves too?”

  She stretched her shoulders back and when she spoke her tone was strong, clear and decisive. “Yes.”

  There were two ways he could do this. The hard way, where he’d get down on his haunches and watch the sunblock sink into every pore. Drench every crease, the one at her knees and the indents at her ankles. Or, the easy way where he could simply load up heavy on the shit and do one swipe. A palm brush from the top of her thigh to the bottom of her ankle in quick motion, like yanking off the proverbial Band-Aid. He was leaning toward the latter until he checked out the bottom half of her and realized he had no choice in the matter.

  “Okay.” He dropped down on a knee and began the masochism.

  He started by rubbing the stuff into one silken thigh, easing it into the spot behind her knee, massaging it over the bow of her calf, pressing and spreading it right down to her ankle. When he reached the tiny line at the back of her heel he nearly fell over with relief to be done with half of her. Now he had to do the other half. Taking slow inventory up that limb, the blood thundered through him until his eyes latched onto her thigh. He could make it if he stuck to using one hand. Only one hand.

  Fuck.

  He squirted the cream, dropped the bottle and the next thing he knew he had fallen forward onto his other knee and put both his hands on her. Sliding and slipping his palms this way and that. Spreading and pressing. Praying he didn’t do what he wanted to do. What he was dying to do and…

  He did another double take. Had she shifted like that on purpose? Now her stance was open and there was a gap large enough for him to slide his hand between her legs and go upward. Jesus God he wanted to, but it couldn’t be that easy, could it?

  He went a little closer to her inner thigh. A little more. Up and up some more. She was letting him do it. He slid his hand in small circles, banding them out. Making the arcs larger. Until his full palm was right between her legs and traveling north. Getting so close to the apex of her thighs he could feel her heat. He could—

  Buzz

  He snatched his hand away and rolled up onto his haunches. For a second he didn’t know what had startled him and then it came to him. His phone. It rang once and then shut off, but before he could get his hands back on her she stepped away.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. The soft, husky tone of her voice assured him she’d been feeling it too. “I think I’m good.”

  Good? She was perfect. And whoever made that call was a dead person. He nearly growled, and stood.

  “Anyone important?”

  He stared at the number. It looked kind of familiar. Probably a past client. “I don’t know.” He pressed call return and kept an eye on her. She was at the deep end of the pool with her side facing the water. She dipped her foot in and tested the temperature with a graceful sweep of her toes.

  “Ooh, it’s tepid,” she playfully gasped.

  Had he not been all tied up in sexual knots he would have grinned. Given the ultra-warm stretch they’d had this month there’d only be two possible temperatures. Warm or warmer.

  The ringing stopped and then there was garble before he heard the raspy voice.

  “Whatcha calling me for? The ceremony’s about to start and everyone is staring at me.”

  “Ms. Malloy?”

  “Who else you did you think you were calling?”

  “You called me first,” Riker explained. “Only you hung up after one ring.”

  “I didn’t call you, son. It musta been my ass that dialed. I sat on the phone by mistake when they left me to freeze in this pew.”

  “Oh. I’ll
let you go then.”

  “What?” she shouted into the phone. “I can’t hear you. They’re playing the wedding march too loud.”

  Riker figured it was best to hang up on her so he did.

  “Is everything all right with Martha?”

  “Yeah,” he tossed his phone onto the table. “So, are you going in?”

  “Yes. What about you?”

  He nodded but before he spoke she dove. Her dive was perfectly executed. And when she surfaced there was no hesitation as she moved cleanly through the water, in a smooth crawl. With two full laps completed, he whistled. She was an athlete all right.

  She did two more lengths and then three by the time he got to the edge of the pool. He sat down where he figured the halfway mark was and waited. Four laps and then five. Was she ever going to stop?

  Shaking his head, he slipped into the water and dunked underneath the surface to get completely wet. Coming up, he held onto the edge of the pool and floated while he waited for her to finish.

  By his count she’d done ten before she stopped in the shallow end and stood, stretching her arms wide. He stopped floating, opting to stand while he watched her do what he now realized was a ritual. No. A routine. She’d been a swimmer at some point, that was for sure.

  She stretched one last time and then dipped right back until her head reached the water. Breaking the surface she plunged and when her hair was completely slicked back she righted herself.

  “Sid?”

  He’d surprised her because she jerked before she collapsed in the water and turned around. “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. You swim beautifully.”

  “Thanks.” She did the breast stroke to him and then treaded water, unable to touch bottom. Normally he would have walked the few feet into the shallow end, but right now he wanted her stranded until he could get a hold of her.

  “I go into autopilot when I dive into a pool.”

  “Why is that?” He reached out and fished her in, glad when she didn’t protest. Her shapely legs brushed against his in a couple of slippery slides. “What’s your story, Sid?”

  He’d been expecting her to balk at sharing anything. Wholly prepared to spend an hour soaking until their skin was wrinkled, to pull a few truths out of her, so when she wrapped her legs around his middle and caged him in against the edge of the pool, asking, “What do you wanna know?” he was a little surprised.