I splashed water at him. “So, tell me about the guy you saved yesterday.”
“Ah, Mike.” He chuckled. “He got drunk. I told him the ocean and booze don’t mix.” He told me the whole story. “He had it bad.” His eyes had a faraway look when he said, “I think love can be that way. It makes people do crazy things.” Had he ever been in love? Would he do something equally crazy for love? Finally he said, “If we sit here much longer, we’ll be in the dark. One more wave.”
Before we left the beach, I did my best to comb through my wet hair. I pulled on a sundress with a low-cut neckline and a flimsy sweater. Not too much, just enough to keep me warm in the cool California evening. Then Jax put his arm around me, and I was warm in the very best way.
When we arrived in the parking lot of the restaurant, Jax jogged to the passenger side of the truck, opened the door for me, and extended a hand to help me out. Festive white lights were strung along the patio dining area, and the place smelled heavenly, like basil, garlic, and fresh tomato sauce.
We stood in the dark, next to his truck. Jax was so close that I could see every hair on his face, the merest beginnings of a two day beard. His blue eyes met mine, and then he pressed me up against the truck and kissed me hard. He drew me into him as his hands roamed up and down my waist, went to my ass, then his hands were in my hair. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me urgently, his salty tongue exploring my mouth. I moved into him and clutched a handful of his hair, which was still damp from the ocean. He leaned down and kissed me harder, his breath coming quickly. His powerful chest exuded warmth against my breasts, and I felt the thrum of his heart. He kissed my neck and my ear, his breath hot and heavy, sending shivers all over my body. His low, sexy voice whispered, “You smell delicious.” He pulled away and smiled. “Let’s get a table before I decide to eat you instead.”
After we got our table, Jax excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I sat sipping a glass of water. I liked this guy. Dammit I liked him. A lot.
I was going to have to tell him about Stan and the fact that I had known his brother’s murderer sooner or later. This was only our second date, but I was hoping Jax would want more than a casual relationship with me. If so, he was going to find out who my friends were. Other than the people I worked with, Stan was the only person I hung out with regularly. Especially now that he was single again. Stan often came over to my house after work and we’d stay up late talking and drinking. He’d usually crash on the couch instead of driving home, and he called me every day, probably three times a day. We were only friends, but we were best friends. I took a deep breath and another sip of water.
I watched Jax swagger across the room and many of the girls in the room turned their heads as he passed. Some of the guys’ heads turned too. He sat next to me at the small table. “So, what’d you do today?” I said.
“Oh, just practiced my breath training and had lunch with one of the clients of the surf shop.”
“You take clients out to lunch?” I almost yelped from pulling on my hair. I had this bad habit. When I got really nervous, I pulled and twisted my hair hard until it hurt.
“Not normally,” he said, busily buttering his bread and looking away. “Every now and then, though, I do. We’ve got to keep our community happy.” His blue eyes gazed at my chest then snapped up to my eyes. “You’re quite a surfer.” He reached for my hand.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I said.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” He laughed.
The server, a light-skinned girl with dark hair and a tattoo on her inner arm that said, Pray For Waves, took our food and drink order, and returned with a bottle of Chianti. She filled our glasses and Jax said, “A toast.” I raised my glass. “To becoming better surfers.”
We clinked glasses. “You’re a great surfer. How could you be any better? You’re already out there charging those huge waves.”
He swirled the contents of his wine, inspecting the glass. “I haven’t been performing that well.”
I grasped his hand. “How can you say that? If I ever got in good enough shape to do what you do, I’d quit my job and travel all over the world looking for bigger waves.”
He set his wine glass down. “Yeah, well, it may sound glamorous, but it doesn’t always pay the rent.”
Oh no, Jax was hurting financially. I patted his hand. “There’s more to life than money.”
He raised his glass. “Another toast. To platitudes.”
We clinked glasses and I felt my face grow warm. I made great money, and while I had no idea how much Jax made, I was certain it couldn’t compare to the quarter of a million dollars a year I brought in. “I suppose money is important. But when you win contests, the prize money’s good, right?”
He smirked. “When I win? If I win.” He took a long swig of wine. “After my brother died,” he looked at his hands, “I wasn’t doing that well. My sponsors only want surfers who’re at the top of their game.” Avoiding eye contact, he busied himself with buttering another piece of bread.
If Jax wanted to talk about his brother, I would eagerly supply a shoulder to cry on, but he certainly wasn’t making it easy to tell him my news. “But you’re in great shape.”
“Surfing big waves and winning contests takes more than that. It’s a mental game,” he said. “And when Tyler died,” he looked at me with sad eyes, “I could barely get out of bed.”
I clasped his hand tightly. “It hurts like hell to lose someone you love. I can’t imagine what you went through.” How awful that his brother had been murdered in such a horrible way.
He squeezed my hand and straightened his back. “It’s been a year. I’m better.” He took another sip of wine. “Can you believe I actually went to a shrink? Some pop-psychologist with a notebook. Damn thing was probably a crossword puzzle she worked instead of taking notes, for all I know.” He exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair. “But she did help me. At least I know my feelings are normal.”
Not wanting to witness the sadness in his eyes, I looked straight ahead and out the window. “I’m so sorry, Jax.”
The server brought our food, and Jax said, “Enough of this sad sack stuff.” He picked up his fork and said, “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
We drank wine, ate a delicious dinner of homemade ravioli for me, spaghetti and meatballs for Jax, and devoured a whole loaf of warm garlic bread. The timing seemed all wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about Stan and Tatyana, so I didn’t. I was such a chicken.
Jax
Holly and I had been dating for a couple of weeks, and as much as I hadn’t been planning on it, I was falling for her. I knew it was because she reminded me of Rosalyn, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t Rosalyn. Rosalyn had left without a trace, and that had been so long ago. I needed to put that relationship in the past where it belonged.
Holly, on the other hand, was here now. She was down for any adventure I dreamed up. Over the short two and a half weeks since we’d met, I’d put her through the paces of my adventurous life, and she was an eager playmate.
One day, I asked her, “Hey, you want to go to yoga class together?”
“Does this mean I get to see you in a pair of tight yoga pants?” she said. “You know, the kind that all those skinny yoga swamis wear when they twist themselves into pretzels?”
I chuckled. “I’m not exactly skinny, but yes, I’ll wear whatever you tell me to wear if it means I get to see you do a headstand.”
“You are anything but skinny,” she said. “Last time I checked, you were looking pretty darn sturdy.”
I picked her up, and we went to the hot yoga studio she liked in Laguna Beach. The great thing about it was that the studio had a view of the ocean.
“You sure you can handle the heat, Jax Priest?” she teased as we lay our yoga mats on the wooden floor of the studio.
I had to admit, the room was a lot warmer than I thought it would be. “What’ve they got the heat cranked up to? A hundred
and fifty?” I wiped my sweating brow.
“One hundred and five.” She sat in a perfect lotus posture, gathered her long hair into a pony tail, and the class began. The entire front wall was mirrored, so I got to watch Holly perform perfect yoga postures from the front mirror, as well as keep an eye on her shapely ass. The class was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be, and I was in great shape. My heart pounded, my body was covered in sweat, and there was not one inch of my towel or mat that wasn’t drenched by the time class ended. After class, and once most of the students had left the studio, I asked Holly, “Will you do a headstand?”
She smiled. “Why do you want to see me do that so much?”
“Because I think it’s cool.” I remembered all the times I’d seen Rosalyn perform her headstand and always thought it was the best part of her yoga routine. Rosalyn’s sweet body, her feet pointing in the air, the blood rushing to her face. Sometimes she’d let me lie on the floor next to her while she was upside down, and then when she released the headstand, she’d want me to kiss her because she said it felt heady having my tongue in her mouth with all the extra blood flow to her head.
Holly said, “Okay, here’s how it works.” She clasped her hands in front of her, her arms in an inverted V on the yoga mat. “But you have to try it with me.”
“Can’t I just watch? What if I fall?”
She smacked me. “And you say you’re an athlete? Okay, here goes.” She placed her hands in position and lifted into a perfect headstand. I ogled her body, all sweaty and hot, longing to kiss her all over.
* * *
We went mountain biking. I was determined to make her work. Not too much, but Holly liked a good competition. She chose the spot, Crystal Cove State Park, which was fine with me because it was set right next to the sparkling blue Pacific Ocean.
“I hope you downed your energy drink today,” I said. We placed our helmets on our heads, then swung our legs over our mountain bikes.
Holly smiled at me, gathered her hair behind her head, and fastened the helmet tightly on her head. “Are you ready to get your butt kicked? One, two, three, go!”
Before I realized what happened, Holly had taken off down the dirt trail, dust kicking up behind her tires. I caught up to her effortlessly. “You call this flat trail a mountain bike ride? Where are the hills?”
She peered over her shoulder and smiled. “You want a hill?” She turned her bike around and took me back to the start of the trail. I followed, and Holly’s bike skidded to a stop at the trailhead. “I was trying to go easy on you, but I usually start here. It’s called BFI.”
“Why do they call it that?” I asked.
“Wish I made the name up, but it’s right here on the map.” She pointed to the green metal trail map that had been affixed to a post. “Big Fucking Incline.”
I smiled. “Race ya.” And I was ahead of her in seconds. She was right, the trail was steep, rocky, and technical. I let her pass me when we made it close to the top, sweaty and out of breath. We stopped and took swigs off our hydration packs.
Holly said, “Why’d you let me win?”
“Because you’re a girl.” I moved my bike close enough so I could kiss her. “A very pretty girl.”
* * *
We went to a movie together. As we stood in front of the theatre, I asked, “What do you want to see?”
“How about Fifty Shades of Grey?” she said.
I shoved her playfully. “Not that. It’s a chick flick.”
“Yeah, but it’s got a cute girl in it. I heard she’s naked most of the movie.”
I chuckled. “As much as I’d love to see a naked girl, can’t we go to one that makes us think?”
Holly sidled up to me, linking her arm through mine. “What exactly do you want to think about?”
I scratched my chin. “Um, popcorn?”
She became animated looking at the marquis. “Oh! Let’s go see the Poltergeist remake.
Scary movies gave me nightmares. “Can’t you pick another one?”
“Are you afraid, Mr. Big Wave Surfer?” she teased.
I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We got our large popcorn and settled into the dark theater. Every time something scary happened, Holly jumped and grabbed my arm. I caressed her arm, and then worked my hand onto her warm thigh, rubbing gently. She leaned her head on my shoulder and I stroked her soft hair.
* * *
I agreed to take her surfing in a slightly advanced spot. “Will you please show me how to paddle into bigger waves?” she’d said.
“Not doing it. Too dangerous. “I thought of a local surf spot in Dana Point where the waves were faster than Holly was used to, but not so big they’d annihilate her. I checked my tide chart app that also gave swell conditions, “How about we go to Salt Creek? The waves will be challenging, but not big enough that you’ll wipe out. You wouldn’t want me to have to give you mouth to mouth.”
“And what would be wrong with that?” she said. We smiled at each other.
When we arrived at Salt Creek, the waves were bigger than I’d anticipated. I stood on the beach, shielding my eyes, and scanned the ocean. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Holly zipped up her wetsuit. “Let’s do it.” And before I had a chance to protest, she was already racing for the ocean, her surfboard tucked under her arm and her long blond hair flowing behind her.
As we rode the waves, I made sure that none of the more aggressive local surfers bothered her. Some of those surfers don’t remember what the spirit of surfing is about: fun. We took off on some waves together. I’d block some of the other surfers from dropping into a wave so that Holly could. It didn’t make me popular with the locals, but I didn’t care. They needed to give a beautiful female a turn at those gorgeous Salt Creek lefts.
When we were done, we stood on the beach, and Holly gave me a high five. “That was awesome! When can we do it again?”
* * *
But the best part of those couple weeks we’d been dating was the night we made out at Holly’s house. We had kissed a few times—passionate, sexy kisses that grew more urgent from that first time we’d kissed on the beach—but I tried my absolute best to be a good boy because I liked her and didn’t want to unleash the Jax Priest fury of sexuality on her yet, I thought with a smile. She was a classy lady.
She’d invited me over for a glass of wine after work. We sat in her backyard, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the sun getting ready to set, the headiness of red wine warming my veins. I took another sip, leaning into Holly, her feminine warmth against me. I put my arm around her. “Will you put some of that perfume on?”
She looked at me, her blue eyes questioning. “Which perfume?”
I toyed with her hair. “You know, that one that smells like incense or sandalwood or whatever it is.”
She laughed. “Incense? I got some powdered perfume over at the Crystal Shack, the place that sells metaphysical books. Is that what you’re talking about?”
“I guess so. Will you show it to me?”
She stood up and put out her hand. “Sure, come on.”
I took Holly’s hand and followed her into the bathroom. She opened the medicine cabinet and extracted a small glass pot with a gold lid. She unscrewed the lid, and the heady aroma of sandalwood wafted into the room. “Is this what you’re talking about?”
My cock instantly sprang to attention, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Will you put some on?”
“Sure, I love it too.” She dumped a small amount of the powder into her palm, briskly rubbed her hands together, then applied the powder to her skin.
I put my arms around her, burying my head in her neck. Jesus, she smelled heavenly. This was not fair to Holly because it reminded me so much of Rosalyn. “Oh fuck, you smell so good.” I took her hand and led her out to the sofa. We sat down, and I looked her in the eye. “Holly, is it okay if I make out with you? We can pretend we’re a couple of teenagers?” What I didn’
t tell her was that I was going to pretend like I was a teenager, and she was going to pretend like she was my mom’s thirty-year old best friend.
Her smile was huge. “Jax Priest, I would love to make out with you.” She giggled. “I’m ready. Tell me when.”
I leaned in, stared into her eyes, softly stroked her hair, kissed her neck, inhaling that wonderful scent. I kissed her ears, my tongue making exquisite contact with her sensitive earlobes then my mouth covered hers. She eagerly kissed me back. I kissed her gently at first. My heart hammered in my chest. I knew what I was doing was kind of screwed up. My tongue darted inside her warm mouth, her sweet tongue searching mine. She tasted like red wine, and I eagerly kissed and lightly bit her bottom lip. Holly’s hands moved over my back, gently stroking, then she ran her fingers through my hair, pulling my head into hers.
We pulled away. “God, you’re sexy,” I said, my breath heavy. “Can I lie on top of you?”
She lay down on the sofa, and I lowered my body on top of hers, my cock digging into her pelvis. We kissed, and her hands were on my back, on my butt, her pelvis reaching up to meet mine. Holly’s breathing was ragged, her eyes glazed over as I stroked her face, her hair, my hand working its way up and down her waist. I felt her heart drumming against my chest. She lifted one leg up, pulling me into her further. “Mmm, you’re a good kisser. I like this high school stuff.”
Our kisses became more passionate. My hard-on throbbed, and I knew I had to stop soon or I wouldn’t be able to turn back. I wasn’t ready to have sex with Holly yet. My mind was caught up in the past with Rosalyn, and I knew I was entering this relationship with the wrong intentions. My thoughts were pretty jumbled up, but when she kissed me harder and squeezed her legs around my body, I buried my head in her neck, inhaling that heady aroma. My breath hitched, all the blood rushed to my pelvis, as my hard-on pushed against my jeans. I tried to rein myself in, but it was too late. I came hard, my face red and covered in sweat.
Pleasure Point: The Complete Series Page 32
