Riptide of Romance

by Jennifer Jones

  I took a fortifying sip of coffee. Lola and I had a long day ahead of us.

  We’d done our share of tandem surfing as teenagers—even won a few trophies, so I was feeling confident. But that was a lot of years ago.

  After breakfast, we made our way to the beach, suited up, waxed our tandem board, and carried it to the shore.

  We stood together on the cool morning sand, and I scanned the horizon. A few seagulls wheeled overhead, and I saw a dolphin in the distance, its tail slapping the water. “Waves are looking small today, so that’s good.” I grazed her arm and wondered how I’d make it through all this touching we’d be doing. I gave her a small grin. “Let’s practice on the beach first.”

  She rose up on tiptoes and clapped her hands together. “Let’s do it!” Her childlike glee reminded me of the girl I’d fallen in love with; her pretty face flushed with excitement.

  Tandem moves consist of everything from simple maneuvers like the cradle where I’d hold Lola like a baby, to super advanced moves like the high swan, where I’d hoist her above my head and balance her pelvis on my hands while she spread her arms out like a flying angel. The harder the move, the higher the score.

  The early morning sun shone on the turquoise water. Everything in life seemed perfect that morning. I was here with my childhood love, and we would win that contest.

  My finger ran slowly across the shoulder of Lola’s wetsuit. I cocked my head. “Hey. Remember what we used to do before a competition?”

  She put her fist out and gave me a sexy grin. “How could I forget?” And we bumped fists.

  “Go get ‘em Team Lola Justice!” we said at the same time.

  We laughed, and I crouched down. “Let’s start with a simple shoulder sit. Come on, up you go.”

  Lola clambered onto my shoulders, draping her lithe legs over my pecs. Her sweet crotch and pussy dug into my neck. Holy mother of tandem surfing! I inhaled deeply, trying to concentrate but all I could think about was how much I wanted to throw her on the sand and jump her bones.

  Focus, Justice.

  I stood up in one fluid movement, and she stretched her arms out like a ballerina. I felt strong, and Lola felt balanced. A smile spread across my face. “Aha! We still got it.”

  She gently smacked my head. “We’re not even in the water yet.”

  I lowered her to the ground and she easily dismounted. “Let’s try a knee stand,” I said.

  “Give it to me, big boy.”

  I placed my finger on my chin. “You’d better be careful what you ask for.”

  “Can’t I ever joke?”

  “Nope.”

  “Just get down there so we can start.”

  I crouched down while she faced away, placing her feet on my quads, arching her back and spreading her arms as I held her flexible back. Her gorgeous ass stared me in the face, and my cock sprung to life.

  I set her down. “Let’s get out there.” I needed to cool down big time, and the chilly Pacific was my only hope.

  We entered the ocean, and my toes dug into the sand, the water swirling around my legs.

  Lola lay prone on the board, and I got on behind her, then slid up on my belly so that I was in between her legs. Her voluptuous ass stared me right in the face as she curled her legs around my waist. Shit! I had to somehow accustom myself to how physically close we were and stop thinking about sex.

  I dug my arms into the water. “Paddle hard.”

  “What do you think I’m gonna do? Work on my tan?”

  “Watch it, Hamilton. Just shut it and head for the lineup.”

  We sat in the lineup, and, as the sun glistened on the ocean like a million dazzling diamonds, I thought about how lucky I was to be here with my childhood sweetheart.

  “Let’s start with a cradle,” I said.

  “You got it, buckwheat.”

  “Buckwheat? You been watching old movies again?” It felt freaking fantastic to be tandem surfing with Lola again. Like kids on Saturday morning. I couldn’t contain my grin.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw the perfect wave headed our way. “Paddle now!”

  We caught the wave and Lola and I stood up at the same time. I lifted her into my arms cradling her like a baby. She stuck one delicate foot out in a perfectly pointed move, her long hair whipping in the breeze. Lola was so dainty and beautiful. Her full breasts pressed against my arms and I felt the heavenly swell of her femininity. Yes, she’d gained a few pounds, but Lola was perfect. Petite and curvy. I loved her softness. No boniness to her. I never understood why so many women were intent on starving themselves.

  I grinned, feeling strong from a lifetime of surfing and weightlifting. The wave rushed underneath us, and I longed to lean forward and kiss Lola. The ride ended, and we quickly dismounted, falling into the water.

  Lola held her hand up, a huge smile on her pretty face. “High five!”

  I gave her what she asked for, and we paddled back out to the lineup.

  “That’s one of the easier moves,” I said. “Let’s work our way up to the harder stuff.”

  We caught a few more as I called out the lifts. “Shoulder swan!” “Hand knee stand!” “One leg knee arch!”

  We sat in the lineup again, and Lola caught her breath, blowing wet hair out of her face. “Let’s go for the harder stuff.”

  “You sure?”

  “Do I look wimpy?”

  I put my hands in front of me in mock surrender. “Far be it from me to call you a wimp.” Lola had a delightful femininity mixed with athleticism.

  Lola was a goddess.

  I fantasized myself as Aqua Man and Lola as a lovely mermaid I’d found in the sea, remembering all the times we’d played make-believe as kids. We did things like that—pretending we were stranded on a desert island or that we were superheroes with fantastic swimming and surfing powers. We made up games where we’d assign point systems to who had the longest ride on a wave, or who was able to balance on one leg the longest on their surfboard as the wave rushed madly beneath.

  Life with Lola was always a total blast. How could I have forgotten?

  She placed a hand on my thigh. “How about a pinwheel?”

  “You sure?” For the pinwheel, I’d hold Lola upside down in front of me by her hips while she spread her legs in a V. It was a moderately advanced move, and it looked classy as hell. If we did it perfectly the judges went wild.

  A look of childlike glee crossed her face. “Let’s do it.”

  I gripped her thigh in affirmation—anything to touch Lola—and looked over my shoulder, shielding my eyes with one hand. “Here comes a nice set. Get ready.”

  We paddled hard and caught the wave. We stood up and went through the series of maneuvers required to get Lola into position. She grunted in the cutest way when I turned her upside down.

  So far so good.

  But when the wave did this herky-jerky thing I should’ve known better. I overcorrected, and the board lost its balance.

  “Holy shit! Hang on, Lola.” The board flipped out from underneath us. It wrenched to the left, and my body lurched to the right. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lola dive into the ocean with a loud splash.

  I stroked hard until I reached her. Lola’s hair was plastered to her skull as she sputtered and coughed. “You okay?”

  She held up a finger. “Just give me a second.”

  We tried the maneuver three more times and damned if I didn’t drop her every freaking time.

  After our series of wipeouts, my playmate was not exactly the fun gal pal I remembered.

  She slapped the water hard. “Filha da puta! You’re not trying! Don’t whip me around so fast.”

  I let out a long, noisy breath. “Calm down. Let’s try it again.”

  “Do I have to be the one to hold you? Jesus Cristo, you’re nothing but an imbecilic surfer who thinks he can win. Do I need to lose weight? Is that the issue here, Justice? Is that why you gave me such a hard time about my breakfast?”

 
I raised my voice. “Zip it, Lola.”

  She swam away from me with sure strokes and called over her shoulder, “When you’re ready, I’ll be in the lineup. You still know how to paddle a surfboard?”

  We reunited in the lineup and I sat behind Lola listening to her attempts at controlling her ragged breathing. She looked down at her hands, her long hair hanging in her face. Her voice was nearly a whisper and between the sound of the breaking waves and the cry of seagulls, I barely heard her. “I’m fat,” she said.

  My heart swelled with compassion. I had left Lola without so much as a backward glance. What had she been doing all these years? Working? Surfing? Dating? Eating?

  I placed a tentative hand over hers. “I love the way you look.” And I meant it. I was totally over all those skinny, bony females I’d dated who were afraid to eat a freaking French fry thinking the trans-fat or some bullshit would ruin their anorexic figure.

  Lola continued to bow her head. “You’re just being nice. You’re too nice to me Justice. I’m so mean sometimes.”

  “I love your spunk.” I longed to throw my arms around Lola and kiss her face, make her look into my eyes so she could see how honest my love was. But I had no right. Lola was here to win the contest, and that was that. My voice was a husky stammer. “You look goddamn sexy in your wetsuit.” I attempted a cheery voice. “Come on, Mrs. Hamilton, you think I would’ve married you if I didn’t find you attractive?”

  She turned and met my gaze and a slow smile spread across her face. “One more chance, Mr. Hamilton. Don’t drop me this time.”

  The next wave crested and we paddled for it. We stood up and I lifted her.

  No way would I drop the lovely, fiery Lola again. I hadn’t forgotten how wild her temper could get. I could still summon the feel of the sting on my cheek from where she’d walloped me good in the schoolyard that day when we were twelve. I loved her for who she actually was. Her athleticism, her creativity, and even her fiery temper were things to celebrate, not change.

  And Lola was one hundred percent female. She knew her power, but she didn’t abuse it. If someone crossed her, she took them on. But she could also be graceful and tender. I loved all of it—her tomboyish way and her hotter-than-hell sex appeal.

  We got into position, and I felt Lola’s muscles strain and then relax into position. My heart sped up, and I took a deep breath. Hang on there, old buddy. You’ve done this hundreds of times. The wind whipped through my ears, a pleasant whistling sound as I gripped my bride. I eyed the shore and lined the board up with the direction I wanted us to go. Point it and go. Do not fall. Do not fall! It felt precarious, but I held on and we rode the wave perfectly.

  We ended the ride, fell into the water and Lola threw her arms around me. I felt her breath hot on my neck. “We did it!” She pulled away all too fast and grinned. It was the widest, most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Knew we still had it.”

  I held up my palm, and we slapped hard. “Damn freaking right. That money’s as good as ours.”

  The rest of the day flew by, we rode wave after wave, our workout punctuated only by a few quick PB&J breaks at the van. As the sun started to melt into the Pacific, my stomach rumbled in earnest and I cocked my head. “Wanna head back to the motel? Maybe our deluxe honeymoon suite’ll have another cheese plate waiting.”

  “That sounds like just what the doctor ordered.” She smiled again, her brown eyes twinkling, and whatever tension we’d shared that afternoon seemed forgotten.

  As we exited the ocean, carting the giant tandem board together, I remembered one of my favorite local eateries. “Hey, you like steak?”

  “Only if it’s medium rare with a side of cardiac arrest.”

  “Quit making fun of me. What I want to know is, can I take you to dinner?”

  She set her side of the board down in the sand. “Only if you can catch me.” She took off running, her long blond hair whipping behind.

  “Lola Hamilton, you are dead meat!”

  “Catch me if you can,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  I took off at a sprint, my legs working hard. But Lola was fast. I came within inches but she whipped the other way, and my fingers came away with nothing more than air.

  “I’m gonna get you!” I ran full speed, and it felt like Lola was the Road Runner and I was Wile E. Coyote. Dang, that woman could run. Finally, I closed the gap between us and tackled her to the ground. She fell with an oof! her hands stretched in front and I fell on top of her.

  Lola laughed so hard I thought she’d end up in the loony bin. “Stop. Get off of me!” she said between giggles.

  She wriggled and squirmed beneath me, but I held her firm. “Does this mean I get to kiss you?”

  “No, it means you get to take me to dinner, you jerk.”

  That got both of us laughing again because suddenly everything felt funny. We broke into hilarious guffaws that finally drew all the strength out of my body. I rolled off my sexy wife and lay on my back, hand covering my eyes, tiny tears leaking out. “You should’ve seen your face when I tackled you.”

  Lola lay on her back, her laughter pealing through the air. “Not as funny as the way you ran. You looked like …” She snapped her fingers. “… What’s that bad guy from that scary movie you and I loved?” She wiped her eyes. “Freddy Krueger.”

  I snorted laughter. “Freddy? You better take that back.”

  She sat up. “Yeah, right.” Sand clung to her wetsuit, and her hair was all mussed up from the ocean. It hung in adorable curls around her shoulders.

  I sat up, and we stared at each other for long moments. The only thing I could hear was the waves crashing on the shore and the laughter of a few kids playing in the breakers. I gazed into Lola’s big brown eyes. Everything in the background suddenly tuned out and was replaced by a strong awareness of my own heart thudding in my chest.

  I leaned in toward Lola, and she leaned in too, so close that I could feel her breath. Her tongue darted out; she licked her lips and they slightly parted. Her bottom lip was so deliciously full that I ached to feel it. I wanted to touch it with my fingers and then kiss her deeply. She smiled nervously and pulled away from me. “So? About that steak dinner?”

  I jerked my head up. “Oh! Yeah. You’ll … really like the place.” Damn it. I wanted to kiss Lola. But I didn’t.

  * * *

  We made it back to the motel without incident. I thought I would run off the road from the boner that threatened to consume my thoughts and driving skills. This was going to be one heck of a long trip up north. How would I make it through and successfully keep my paws off Lola?

  “You shower first,” Lola said. She placed a finger in her mouth, worked the cuticle for a second and then removed it. “I like to take my time.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  As I was drying off from the shower, my cell rang. I flipped the top open. It was Papaw. His gruff voice crackled across the line. “Hey. How’s it going?”

  I toweled my hair and shook it out. “Pretty good.” I jumped on the bed, leaned against the headboard and stretched my legs out in front. “Long day training. I think we’re gelling.”

  “You two getting along?”

  I dragged my hand through wet hair. “Yeah.” My gaze flicked to the bathroom door. Lola had closed and locked it with a loud click of finality. “Lola’s a handful though.”

  His tone was probably sharper than intended. “You be nice to her!”

  “I am, I am. Jeez. Give me a break.”

  His tone softened. “My date with Ginger went good. Took her to the Chart House.” He cleared his throat. “After dinner she even let me watch her pole dance.”

  My body went rigid, and I sat up straight. “You went back to the club?”

  “Nope.” His voice became conspiratorial. “Get a load of this. She’s got a pole set up in her house.”

  “No way. Where was Bobbie?”

  “On a sleepover.” He let out a low laugh. “Can I tell you something?�
��

  “Shoot.”

  “Ginger’s determined to master that pole, and she wants my help. You know with helping her up and all. Catching her if she falls.” His voice was a whisper. “I got to kiss her.” His voice sounded light and happy. “She’s teaching me to dance too. Not that stripping stuff. Just some basic disco moves.”

  Gross. The thought of Ginger—I covered my eyes with a hand at the thought of her naked—made my ears go hot. Dang. This was almost as bad as picturing my parents in bed. “Well, that’s cool.”

  “Damn straight it’s cool.” He hesitated a moment. “You kiss Lola yet?”

  Why did he want to have this conversation?

  I heard the rushing of the water and longed for a glimpse of Lola’s naked body. “Papaw! We’re just training together.” I picked at some lint on the comforter. “Was there a reason you called?”

  “Just wishing you luck, kid. And to tell you—don’t let love slip through your fingers again. Lola’s good for you.”

  Right. How was I supposed to do that when she was making it extremely clear my advances were not welcome?

  I tapped my fingers impatiently. “Say hi to Ginger and Bobbie.”

  We hung up the phone, and I stared hard at the closed bathroom door. A slow smile spread across my face. What would Lola do if I broke down that door, barreled into the bathroom, and joined her in the shower?

  Would she be eager to ride my pole? I’ll teach you how to pole dance, babe.

  I bounced my cell phone from hand to hand. Then I swung my legs out of bed and stood up. Then I turned around twice and sat down again, my elbows on my knees as I stared at the door. Damn it!

  I needed Lola.

  And not just her body. Although I longed to feel her soft skin, to run my fingers over the sensitive flesh of her round breasts, to kiss her neck. I needed to tip her head back so I could kiss the sensual spot underneath her ear.