Leather and Sand

by Jayna Vixen

  Who the fuck is that guy? There always seems to be some asshole buzzing around her.

  Although he was supremely angry, something in Dax’s heart softened as he gazed at Rhee. The big guy towered over her, making her look smaller and more fragile than he remembered. She wore a yellow bikini top that tied around her neck. The color showed off her golden tan. Even from the short distance away, her breasts looked larger, fuller. Dax licked lips that had suddenly gone dry as he continued his perusal. The girl’s hair, much longer and lighter in color than it had been before, swirled around her shoulders and down her back. A colorful sarong was tied artfully around her hips. The thin material did nothing to hide the generous swell of her ass or the lush curve of her thigh.

  As he visually devoured Rhee, Dax could feel eyes on him as well. In fact, the animosity was nearly tangible as he took a step onto the sand. The back of his neck prickled in anticipation of the coming confrontation. He had ditched his boots after Rhee’s spitfire of a landlady made a parting comment about mainlanders and shoes. It felt odd to confront potential rivals in bare feet. Dax hesitated. He didn’t want to cause a scene but he also couldn’t stay away. He had come here for answers, and he would get them.

  I don’t care who the fuck these punks are.

  Dax Jamison refused to be intimidated. In fact, confrontations like these seemed to spur quite the opposite reaction. He felt his adrenaline surge as he straightened to his full height, taking stock of the situation. Most of these local boys might be larger in girth, but he had an obvious height advantage. Dax sauntered towards Rhee with purposeful strides. He caught the gesture the big guy sent to the others down the beach as they waxed their boards. Three of them stiffened, observing his approach. Then, they too began walking towards Rhiannon.

  Looks like she has her own little surfer-thug army here. His eyes flickered over the tribal ink and he felt a flash of recognition but he covered it up. Dax wouldn’t pull rank here. Let’s make this a little more interesting. He met each territorial gaze head on, scoping the men out. His shirt covered his own ink—ink that would dissolve this tension in a second. But…he liked throwing people a little off-kilter.

  Dax found himself wondering if Rhee was with any of them. If she had been with any of them. The thought made him tense with possessive ire, even as he struggled with the rage that simmered just beneath the surface. Finally, he was standing in front of her. He noticed that Rhee was trembling, those large liquid pools of green in her eyes shimmering with anxiety.

  He didn’t intend to speak first. Perversely, he wanted to see Rhee squirm before he started questioning her. Dax glanced around for somewhere more private where he could have it out with the stowaway, but before either of them said a word, the big man stepped slightly in front of Rhee. It was a silent challenge. Dax felt himself swelling with aggressive energy, his mouth settling into a grim line as his jaw tensed. It was at least six to one—he was obviously outnumbered. It would take finesse rather than fighting to sort this touchy situation out. Revealing his identity would only complicate things now.

  A large, shaggy dog approached, tensing for a brief second with a low growl. Then, a happy whine ensued as the animal pushed his cold, wet nose into Dax’s palm. He smiled, despite the growing tension on the beach.

  Hey, at least the dog likes me.

  “This is a private beach. Locals only,” the man with the large, tribal turtle on his chest stated firmly, looking from the dog to Dax with a hint of question in his eyes.

  “I understand. Just need a few words with my friend, here.”

  Rhee cast her eyes down at the sand, an attractive flush appearing on her cheeks and chest as he spoke the word, “friend.” Dax stared at her steadily, daring her to return his gaze. As smoothly as if she sensed the invitation and rejected it, she defied him by turning slightly away. Her dismissive reaction only increased his desire to spank the shit out of her. His fists clenched, his palms burning with the desire to feel her naked bottom beneath them.

  “Don’t think she’s interested, haole.”

  “It’s important. I’ll wait until she’s ready to show a little interest.” Dax countered, the challenge evident in his voice and posture.

  His hands flexed as he fought the urge to just grab the stowaway and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman. And then I’ll yank that little blue skirt off of her and redden her ass. The thought caused a reaction in his jeans that Dax had to fight to control. Being so close to her, and having all of these other men around, made Dax itch to stake his claim. All over her. He smiled grimly to himself as he recognized that no matter how angry he was with Rhiannon, he still wanted her—and it pissed him off. He didn’t want to want her. He didn’t want any of this!

  “Turtle…” Rhee finally said, sounding somewhat choked, “it’s okay, really.”

  “Sorry, tita, but rules are rules. No one chills on this beach unless they earn the right.”

  The dog whined, like he was apologizing. Dax and Turtle exchanged glances that were charged with meaning. Dax looked to the row of shortboards lined up on the sand, a question in his eyes. Turtle nodded. Dax shrugged and then nodded as well. The challenge had been issued and accepted.

  Chapter Eleven

  Once Rhee realized what was going on, she was horrified. “Turtle, no!”

  Her anxiety at seeing Dax walk onto the beach was replaced by fear for his bodily health. They were going to make him surf the reef. This beach was home to a gnarly, fast wave that broke on sharp coral, in about two feet of water. Part of the reason it was considered a locals beach. Tourists got hurt here when they chanced to find the beach unguarded. Rhee had personally witnessed the consequences of screwing up on that wave, and it hadn’t been pretty. One of Turtle’s boys ended up looking like he had been attacked with a cheese grater, and his new nickname, Cheddar, would forever remind him of the day he challenged this wave…and lost.

  Rhee had seen the look on Dax’s face before and she knew he wasn’t going to back down. But—Dax was a biker, not a surfer! If he were able to paddle out to the right spot in the lineup, it would be a miracle. From her months spent on the sand, feeling like a beached whale in her maternity swimsuit, Rhee knew that this particular wave was touchy. She had heard it over and over again. You had to know what you were doing—or you could get killed.

  Looking back over her shoulder, Rhee confirmed that Sirena was still occupied with Tiny. They were building an elaborate sandcastle and her daughter was blissfully unaware of Rhee’s inner turmoil. She hustled after the group of men, her heart in her throat. Turtle and his crew were tough, but fair, however Dax was totally out of his element! Rhee shuddered. The last thing she wanted to see was the father of her child sliced to ribbons right in front of the daughter he had never officially met.

  “Dax!” she called, the worry in her voice causing it to carry.

  He paused and then turned slowly around to meet her gaze. The boyish excitement on his face surprised Rhee. She had been expecting cool indifference or possibly even anger. She paused, taking in the ease of his unguarded expression. Then, unexpectedly, Dax shot her that famous lop-sided grin that used to make her belly do flip-flops. Rhee froze as unbidden desire heated her blood and an answering ache began to throb low in her belly. That smile still had the same effect on her.

  “Don’t worry, stowaway,” Dax called. “I got this.”

  Shit. All she could do was watch as Turtle offered Dax one of his boards. Rhee winced. It was the shittiest one—the thing had a hairline crack in the side and it had taken on water. She had heard a few of the guys in the crew complaining about it. The only reason they brought it along was to thrash it as hard as they could, until the thing snapped. Breaking a board was considered a rite of passage among the guys who surfed this beach.

  Not fair!

  Glancing at the sea, Rhee could see several local boys paddling out. A big set must be on its way. Oh, God. How do I stop this? Even if he doesn’t get scored by the reef, I hate to think
what he’ll do if his ego gets damaged…

  Glancing back at Dax, Rhee’s mouth went dry. He had stripped off his jeans and tank top. Turtle tossed him a pair of spare trunks. As Dax caught the garment, Rhee caught a flash of his rock hard six-pack. She could see the curve of his hip where it bisected his torso. Immediately, moist heat pooled between her thighs, making her squirm with embarrassment. Dax still looked damn good. If possible, he looked even better than she recalled. Stronger, maybe. No, that wasn’t it. It was just Dax, and the raw male essence that just oozed out of every one of his pores, that called to her in a very primal way.

  He was cut—every muscle in his torso was delineated. Manali could wash her pareo on the man’s taut abs. Dax wrapped a towel around his waist and slipped the trunks underneath. Rhee found herself wishing fervently for a strong gust of wind to rip the towel from his hips. She held her breath as he dropped the towel with practiced ease to tie the string on the shorts, her eyes fixated on the trail of blond hair that extended from his navel and went lower.

  Holy Jesus. It should be a crime to be that hot.

  Dax was the only man she had ever been with, and the memories of their single night of passion had Rhee clenching her thighs as liquid desire soaked her bikini bottoms. Her faced heated more as she recalled a few lonely nights when it was just herself, her fingers, and her active imagination conjuring that night back into her head. Dax had kissed and licked her all over, from her mouth to her….fuck!

  Rhee wasn’t aware of the low gasp that escaped her but she couldn’t ignore the damp heat that threatened to seep out onto her sarong. She was becoming dangerously aroused…in public!

  I don’t—can’t—still want him. I have to think about what’s best for Sirena.

  No matter what she told herself, Rhee’s traitorous body continued along its carnal path. Dax stood with his back to her, his broad shoulders and lean waist causing all kinds of inappropriate thoughts to race through her head. Her nipples tightened into achy little points and her entire body was starting to feel like it was on fire.

  Sure, there had been some interested males when she first arrived on the island, but Rhee hadn’t felt any sort of attraction to any of them. In fact, in all of her years, she couldn’t recall a single time she had experienced such reckless desire. Not like this. I can hardly control myself! He still had his back to her, so Rhee allowed her greedy eyes to travel over Dax’s masculine physique unabashed.

  Fuck me, he is everything I remembered and more.

  Dax’s shoulders were as broad as she remembered, and his waist was still lean. His borrowed trunks hung low on his hips, once again exposing the curve where his powerful thigh cut away from his chiseled torso. Rhee couldn’t explain why that particular part of him was so enticing, but it was nonetheless.

  “Oh, God,” Rhee whispered to herself, licking her dry lips.

  Unbeknownst to him, she inspected Dax thoroughly, drinking in his muscled arms and chest as though the sight had the power to quench the sexual thirst that his presence had caused. Feelings raced up like the tide to remind her that it wasn’t just his body she had been attracted to. It was everything about him—even his domineering attitude.

  As he turned to pick up the pathetic surfboard they offered him, Turtle and his boys spied the ink on his back. Rhee saw Turtle take notice. He and few of his boys nodded at one another in silent homage to the huge, black specter. She could see them surreptitiously trying to check out his other tattoos. Maybe they were impressed; Dax had a lot of art on his body, and it was all detailed and well done.

  Unable to turn away, Rhee stared at the compilation of lean muscle and ink. His calves...how could I have forgotten those calves? Shit, I didn’t even realize I thought calves were sexy….or is it just because they’re his calves…oh, fuck me.

  Voices carried on the gentle sea breeze. “Hey, man….you a Phantom, braddah?”

  That was odd. How would Turtle know about a motorcycle club?

  “Hey, brah, you know what? You don’t have to prove shit, man.”

  Rhee watched, agog, as Turtle extended his hand to Dax. They shook and clapped one another on the back. More words were exchanged but the sound of Sirena’s giggles and the crash of a wave muffled them. Rhee took another tentative step forward. She knew enough not to get involved in the boys’ business, but this was an unexpected turn of events. It looked like they were letting Dax off the hook. But, why would Turtle do that? No matter, at least this ridiculous male competition crap was over. Her shoulders sagged with relief, tension she didn’t realize she had been holding uncoiling from her belly.

  Then, Dax was shaking his head and gesturing to the old, waterlogged board. Turtle looked concerned. More words were exchanged that Rhee could not hear. Turtle seemed to be offering Dax his own board. That was extra weird—Turtle never let anyone ride his board, let alone a stranger!

  Rhee gasped as Dax grabbed the joke of a board he had been offered, tucked it under his arm, and jogged to the water’s edge. He’s going to get himself killed.

  “Why didn’t you mention that your boy is a Phantom, Rina?” Turtle asked, joining her.

  “Why are you making him surf the break, Turtle? It’s not fair! That board—”

  Turtle put his hands up in a defensive posture. “Hey, I let him off the hook. Your boy is a stubborn one, tita.”

  My boy?! “What if he gets hurt?” The panic in her voice was impossible to describe.

  Turtle had his eyes trained on Dax, who was paddling straight towards an oncoming wave with smooth, sure strokes. “He’ll be all right.”

  The other guys gathered, to watch the oncoming wipeout, no doubt. Sirena scampered to Rhee’s side, Tiny lumbering after her. Rhee’s heart pounded as Dax stroked ever closer to a huge wall of water that was starting to peak right on top of his head. Then, he disappeared beneath the water, duck-diving the wave. She exhaled, relieved.

  Well, maybe he has a little experience, then.

  Still, a little experience didn’t go very far out here. The guys who surfed this wave were either locals or pros, or both. Dax was neither. Rhee could see one leashed ankle come up into the air as Dax drove his knee into the surfboard to force it under the water. Rhee let out half a breath a few minutes later, when his blond head surfaced. Dax paddled straight for the line up. Turtle raised his hand in a signal to the other boys who waited for a set. An answering signal later, and Dax was next up.

  “Mommy? What you lookin’ at?”

  “Um, a new surfer, monkey.”

  “He gonna wipeout?”

  Rhee let out a nervous chuckle. “I hope not, baby.”

  Sirena grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed it. Rhee squeezed back. They didn’t have long to wait to find out.

  ***

  A nice, clean set was rolling in. Dax felt calm creep into his soul as the noises and people on the shore were swallowed up by the deep blues and greens of marine wilderness. The water was warm and clear—so unlike the ocean of his youth. That ocean had been cold and angry. At times, he felt that the bleak, gray water and freezing temperatures of Darling’s beaches mirrored his broken soul.

  Looking down, Dax could see the reef below. Brightly colored fish darted in and out of the coral. While he had never surfed a break like this, Dax could only imagine what would happen if he pearled off of his board. Ouch.

  He assessed the first wave in the set as it peeled off and raced toward the beach. It was a fast wave, a little choppy at the takeoff. Dax hadn’t surfed since he was practically a kid, but the behemoth board he was riding reminded him almost fondly of the one he had back then. He had been so grateful to have that thing. Maybe it had even prepared him for the current situation. It wasn’t going to be easy to get enough speed to catch a wave on this old boat.

  He could see the others clustered on the shore, watching. When he recognized Dax’s ink, Turtle had graciously let him out of the challenge, but Dax wasn’t about to back down. Then, Turtle had offered Dax a better board—a real ni
ce one in fact. Dax shrugged it off. That board was too nice, too perfect. The crummy one would do him just fine. When he hit the water he felt super rusty. But, after a few strokes, the rest of the world faded away. His body remembered what to do so he let his mind kind of…float. It was a nice feeling.

  The second wave came in and the other two surfers hanging out in the lineup hung back, giving him the right of way. This one was for him. Dax went for it, paddling as hard as he could, hearing his own heartbeat in his ears. Maybe his timing was off, or maybe the old board just couldn’t make it. The wave passed under him, like a giant watery ghost. He could feel the energy and momentum moving beneath him—leaving him behind.

  Dax caught the third wave in the set with the kind of joy only someone who grew up surfing crap waves could feel. Shitty waves were mushy and hard to catch. If you were lucky, you got a two second ride before the crap back home collapsed into whitewash. This wave was clean, glassy, with a nice long face. Dax stood up fluidly, hearing the roar behind him as spray kicked back into his face. Feeing victorious, he straightened too quickly, overshooting the nose.

  He went down, the heavy board flying into the air, jerking his leashed ankle hard. In a way, it was good that the damn thing was so heavy. He was flung around like a rag doll but the board wouldn’t sink. It was a heavy ass life preserver dragging him towards the surface. His lungs burned and the blackness began to tickle at the periphery of his vision. Finally, he popped up like a cork, heaving for breath.

  Dax regained his bearings. He was really far from the line up. Even though it felt like he was paddling a tree trunk, he pulled himself back up onto the board and headed straight back out anyway. He paddled hard, knowing he was going to feel it in his shoulders and his back come tomorrow. It was worth it though. How had he forgotten what it was like to be at one with the water? There was nothing here. No thoughts, no pain. Only himself and the waves. Dax duck-dived the oncoming whitewash smoothly, the grin on his face only becoming apparent to him when he had to close his mouth to prevent the seawater from rushing into it.