by Tawny Weber
“Thank you? I want to beat you with your own corn-chip bag,” Dru snapped before she could control herself. She sucked in a deep breath, then said in her most reasonable tone, “I have responsibilities and commitments, Nikki. I don’t have time to sip margaritas and hit the beach.”
“That’s not all I want you to hit,” Nikki said with a stern frown. Dru figured that must be the look the woman used to keep her hunky new husband in line.
But Drucilla Antoinette was made of stronger stuff than that. So she just leaned back in her chair and raised a brow.
“You need a man.”
“Isn’t that where this conversation started?”
“My point exactly. You need a hot man. A hunky, yummy, no-discussion-needed, orgasm-at-first-sight man.”
Dru’s breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat at that image.
“No, I’m only looking to relax,” she protested. Not willing to consider something as clichéd as a vacation fling, she got up to cross the room and toss her garbage away. As if she wanted to get rid of the tempting image Nikki had put in her head.
“What’s more relaxing than an uninhibited sexual escapade?” her friend asked behind her.
And where better to have a sexual escapade than far away from her day-to-day world, on vacation from work and distanced from the rules she surrounded her life with?
Dru stepped over to the sink to wash her hands. The water rushed over her, cooling flesh that suddenly felt as if it was on fire. She watched the clear liquid flow, her mind filled with images of hot beach sex with a well-muscled beach bum.
“I can’t deliberately set out to have a fling,” she murmured.
“Why on earth not? You need to let go of this thing you have for only doing brainiacs, Dru. No intelligence litmus test. Just pure, sexual attraction. You find a guy who turns you on and have a week’s worth of wild monkey sex.”
“To what purpose?” Dru asked as she dried her hands, considering the ramifications of giving in to the ultimate temptation. If she did it away from the lab, nobody would see her choice. Nobody would judge her for picking a hot guy whose only purpose was to satisfy her every lusting need. She wouldn’t be deemed a sex-crazed idiot who made bad choices in the name of screaming orgasms. Her breath shuddered. God, what did a screaming orgasm actually feel like?
Dru saw the smirk on Nikki’s face and clarified, “What’s the purpose, besides sex?”
“Does there have to be another purpose? For once, go after a guy who turns you on. Not one you have to convince yourself is sexy.” Nikki gave her a wicked grin, her dimples flashing as she came over to rinse her lunch dishes. “Find a guy with the stamina to go all night. A hunky horndog who’ll worship your body.”
The image flashed, erotic and intense. A faceless young stud, his muscles oiled and gleaming in the moonlight, poised over her body as he acted out her every kinky fantasy. She swallowed and shifted, glad her lab coat covered her aching nipples. Panicked, Dru scanned the room, even though she knew nobody else was there to overhear.
This was a crazy idea. Completely insane.
So what did that say about her for even considering it?
As if she sensed Dru was weakening, Nikki laid her hand on Dru’s arm and offered a wicked smile. “Girlfriend, it’s time to find yourself a playmate.”
TWO WEEKS LATER Dru paid the taxi driver and waited while the bellboy loaded her suitcases onto a cart. She used the time to look around.
Los Cabos, Mexico. Oceanfront luxury with the charm of old-world Mexico. White sandy beaches, the Sea of Cortez, ocean breezes and beautiful tropical foliage.
Tension she hadn’t even realized she’d hoarded in her shoulders drained away. Far from the San Francisco breeze, Dru felt freer than she’d ever been. Here, nobody knew her. She didn’t have to worry about projecting the right image, about climbing the ladder or about the anchoring weight of family responsibilities that kept her pushing for success.
She was here to take a break.
Dr. Shelby had raved about both the relaxing atmosphere and the beautiful views.
And he’d been right.
When she found herself checking out the bellboy’s ass, Dru rolled her eyes. That probably wasn’t the kind of view her boss had meant.
Forcing her gaze to stay on the guy’s shoulders, broad and muscular as they were, she followed him and her luggage into the hotel to the reservations desk.
Thirty minutes later, she’d changed out of her practical travel clothes—a button-down shirt and khaki pants—and into an eye-wateringly bright floral sundress and had defiantly unbraided her long hair. The practical voice in her head argued that it’d just get tangled on the beach. She didn’t care. She figured freedom came with a few tangles.
Dru stepped out the back door of her bungalow and gasped. There, spread before her, was the most gorgeous beach she’d ever seen. Sand, soft and inviting, swept from as far as the eye could see. Beyond it the ocean, dark blue in the early-evening light, beat frothy white waves against the dull gold of the shore.
Just the sight of it filled her with a mellow sort of empowerment. Maybe it was the watercolor richness of the sky, purples bleeding into orange-tinged pink as the sun set behind the water. Or the wild intensity of the waves, their salty scent and roaring sound inviting her to come closer.
Or maybe it was just knowing she could do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted was to feel that water on her toes. Not bothering to go inside for her sandals, Dru skipped lightly down the wooden steps leading from her tiny patio to the still-warm sand.
Reveling in the feel of the tiny grains shifting around her feet, she headed straight for the water. It wasn’t until she was halfway there that she saw him.
Her heart, and her feet, stopped.
Her mouth went as dry as the sand clinging to her ankles. She didn’t blink when the soft breeze sent tendrils of her hair into her eyes, just batted it away so it didn’t interfere with her view.
Oh. My. God.
He was incredible. Like some water god, he flew over the waves. The water glistened on his golden skin like diamonds in the fading light. Arms outstretched, biceps glinting as he balanced on the deep purple surfboard. Was he real? A figment of her lusty imagination? The manifestation of her every sexual fantasy? Dru’s breath came in long, labored bursts. She was afraid to blink, fearing he’d disappear.
Her fingers itched to touch that bare chest, to run down the dusting of dark hair that perfectly highlighted his well-muscled abs. She stared as he got closer to shore, watching him shift his knees to a low crouch as he rode the wave all the way to the beach.
There was something so amazing about surfers. She’d always imagined them to be fearless. Able to embrace anything life handed them and ride it to success.
And talk about muscle control. That was the kind of guy who could rock against-a-wall sex and not drop the woman as she melted in orgasmic glory all over him.
Was he real? Or had her sex-deprived imagination conjured up the perfect man to fulfill her lusty desires?
About thirty feet away, she watched him walk across the sand. This close, she could see how young he was. Mid-twenties at the most. His dripping hair fell in inky black curls around his head, his beautiful face adding to the image of a Greek god come to life.
He stopped at the brightly decorated surf-shop bungalow, and she watched him key in a code, then open the door and store his board. His familiarity made it obvious he wasn’t a guest. Did he work at the surf shop? Or at the hotel?
Whatever he did, he was obviously out of her league. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if a sweet young thing like him would have any interest in an almost thirty-year-old scientist with social anxieties and repressed sexual needs.
Needs she’d been perfectly fine ignoring until Nikki had gotten her all riled up over her ridiculous ideas. Dru had no idea how to flirt, how to attract a man’s attention. Especially not a man like that. No matter what Nikki had suggested, Dru wasn’
t here for a fling.
Except here he was. The most incredible man she’d ever seen. A man who would definitely not stop midthrust, but know how to bring a woman to a screaming orgasm, then make her writhe and beg for more.
And then he turned. Their eyes met. Dru’s breath lodged somewhere between her aching nipples and her dry mouth. His gaze holding her captive from twenty feet away, one corner of his mouth quirked in a charmingly adorable little-boy grin.
And he walked toward her. Frozen in the sand, Drucilla didn’t know if she should pull back her shoulders, stick out her chest and smile beguilingly. Or turn on her bare heel and run like hell.
2
ALEX MADDOW GAVE a quick shake of his head, his hair flying around his face as the drops of water scattered. The exhilaration of riding the waves still surged through his body. He filled his lungs with the salty evening air and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
There was nothing like surfing at sunset. The colors of the sky, the feel of the cooling air as it whipped around his body while he flew over the water. Incredible was the only word for it. God, he felt great.
Then he saw her. There, a glowing jewel against the pristine white adobe of the hotel. Talk about incredible. Simply stunning. Despite the aftereffects of the cold water, he stirred in hardening awareness. Images flooded his mind of naked bodies, breathy moans and exquisite pleasure.
He was never a man to deny his sexual needs, but Alex usually knew the woman’s name before he planned the many different ways he’d enjoy her body. Then again, he’d never experienced this intense, instantaneous lust-at-first-sight reaction to a woman before, either.
His eyes narrowed. She reminded him of one of those elfish princesses his mother used to read him stories about—the ones he’d always fallen in love with. Tall and slender, and her angular face commanded attention. Silvery-blond hair waved around her shoulders in a silken cape. The demureness of the cut of her calf-length sundress was at odds with the vivid turquoise-and-pink pattern. Bare toes curled sensually in the sand.
A slow smile of anticipation curved Alex’s lips. It was as if it was meant to be. From one exhilarating ride to the temptation of another. Never let it be said that Albert Alexander Maddow didn’t appreciate opportunity when fate placed it right in front of him. Especially an opportunity that stole his breath away, filling his mind with sexual challenge.
Through wasting time, he strode across the sand toward her, shoving his wet curls off his face as he moved. The closer he got, the more intrigued he was. Not because of her looks, but because of the look she was giving him. As though she couldn’t decide if he was a crazed ax murderer or how he’d taste covered in chocolate.
From the set of her chin and the way she shifted her body, lifting one shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest, she obviously figured she could handle either option. Alex grinned. There was nothing sexier than a confident woman.
And she was even better up close. Her brows, shades darker than her hair, slashed a strong arch over eyes so blue they were almost the same purple as the sunset. Her mouth was narrow, the upper lip heavier than the lower. He wanted to nibble on that lip, to run his tongue over it and see if it was as delicious as it looked.
Had he ever been so intensely, instantly attracted to a woman? Alex couldn’t recall and didn’t care. After all, the only thing that mattered was this moment and this woman.
Until the moment was over.
“Gorgeous,” he commented when he was a couple feet away from her. Her features didn’t add up to pretty individually, but put together, they were stunning. His fingers ached to trace the line of her throat down to the gentle swell of flesh pressing against the vivid floral cotton of her dress.
“The surf?” she asked after a brief hesitation. Even her voice was sexy. Low and husky, at odds with her ethereal appearance.
“The view,” he clarified, sensing that she wouldn’t appreciate surfeit flirtation. A man who prided himself on his intuition as much as his brains, he reined in his instinct to hit hard.
She obviously wasn’t fooled, though. She arched one brow, then glanced over his shoulder. He followed her gaze, taking in the watercolor beauty of the sunset. As always, the sight centered him. The ever-changing transformations of the sea never failed to fill his soul with peace.
She got that, he realized as his gaze traced the lines of her face. She didn’t look like a woman used to peace, but one who did appreciate it when it was there in front of her.
“It must feel amazing to be a part of that,” she said with a nod of her chin toward the pounding sea. She acted as if she wasn’t aware of his attraction, but the stiffness of her shoulders and slight step she took backward told him otherwise.
She didn’t leave, though. Which said it all, in his mind.
“Do you surf?” he asked, already knowing the answer. She had that romantic, wouldn’t-it-be-an-adventure look in her eyes. Not that surfing wasn’t both romantic and adventurous. But when a surfer looked at the sea, there was always an underlying layer of respect.
“I never have surfed before, no,” she said, her gaze meeting his again. There was a summing-up, a calculation in her eyes. He recognized the look. Felt the sexual pull of it tugging at him. It was the kind of expression that said she wondered how he’d look without his swim trunks and could he keep it up long enough to make her scream with pleasure.
Then, as if realizing he’d caught the look, she blinked. Color, soft pale pink, swept over her cheeks. But she didn’t drop her gaze. Almost defiantly, she kept those indigo eyes on his.
A slow, challenging grin spread over his face. He would enjoy showing her both the view and his talents.
“Surfing is like sex,” he told her softly. “An intense ride on a lover that knows how to push you to your limits, then bring you back to earth with a gentle kiss and an invitation to ride again.”
He waited to see if she’d blush a second time.
“You don’t say.” Her sharp cheekbones blush free, she gave him a long, cool look, then shook her head. “Somehow I doubt that tempting promise of pleasure is quite the same for a beginner. I’d imagine there’s a lot more flailing around, falling and inhaling seawater.”
“Not if you have the right teacher,” he assured her, taking a small step closer. The sand shifted under his bare feet. He inhaled deeply. Her perfume filled his senses, even from a foot away. Was it stronger along her throat? If he buried his face in the curve, just where her breasts started to swell, would it overwhelm him?
“I might look into surf lessons while I’m here,” she evaded, not taking the sex-talk bait.
“I’ll teach you.”
She gave a nervous little laugh, the sound saying she’d just bet he would. A shutter dropped, her expression chilling almost as much as his body as the evening breeze teased the water still coating his skin.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, figuring she was smart to ice up. He was a stranger, after all. For now. “The Surf Shack is a part of the hotel’s offering. I teach for them.”
She didn’t appear to be reassured. Not sure why, Alex put on his safest, most trustworthy face. The kind he hoped seemed nonthreatening. Even though he wanted to go in the opposite direction, he took a tiny step back. He instantly missed the scent of her perfume, flowery and rich, over the salty scent of the ocean.
“You can check at the hotel. Just ask anyone about Alex and surfing. They’ll vouch for me.” He was pretty sure the last time he’d come this close to begging a woman to spend time with him occurred when he was sixteen and trying to find a date to his first college formal.
Still, she hesitated. Her gaze slid from his face to the Surf Shack, a tiny frown furrowing the alabaster skin between those deep blue eyes.
He saw the refusal on her lips.
“Just say maybe,” he suggested before she could say anything.
Humor flashed in those stunning eyes and she raised one brow, then shrugged.
“Maybe,” she murmured. Then, wi
thout another word, not even a yes-I-want-to-do-you-until-we-both-get-sand-burns look, she turned away.
He watched her go, rubbing a hand over the bruised ache in his chest and wondering what the hell had just happened. He felt as if he’d been smacked upside the head with his board in a total wipeout disaster—exhilarated, confused and wondering if he’d done permanent damage.
Crazy, he told himself. Women were many things. Alluring, captivating, desirable. They were fun, felt incredible and made perfect temporary companions. But dangerous?
He shook his head, his damp curls falling over his eyes a reminder that he’d better get them cut before he reported in for his real job at the end of the month.
Dangerous, he thought again. Nah.
There was nothing risky about making time with a stunning blonde who had a yen to learn the magic of the ocean. The only thing at stake was a little time and the possibility of some righteously awesome sex.
SITTING AT THE HOTEL’S dining patio basking in the sunshine the next morning, Dru sipped her coffee. The rich aroma filled her senses. Dark, robust and strong. The perfect accompaniment to her decadent breakfast—stuffed French toast, chorizo and spicy fried potatoes.
All favorites, all bad for her. Exactly what she needed to start this vacation right, she thought with a sigh as she set her coffee cup down. Especially after waking from the most incredibly hot, orgasmic dream she’d ever experienced.
Vivid images of her and the gorgeous man from the beach doing it in wicked abandon on his surfboard filled her mind. She shifted in her wicker chair and wished the waiter would come over and refill her ice water. She definitely needed to cool off.
She hadn’t been able to get the sexy surf god out of her mind, and obviously her subconscious had put his image and all Nikki’s talk about vacation flings together and served her up a montage of sensual impressions. Since the dream-induced orgasm had rocked, she wasn’t going to knock it.
A chorus of greetings, in both English and Spanish, rang out along the edge of the dining patio. Dru pulled her attention away from the ocean to glance at the commotion.
