Authors: Lorelie Brown
E
ven on her borrowed board, feeling the ocean snatch away her control and give her back the gift of riding a wave, Annie couldn’t get Sean’s words out of her head. She didn’t want to. Incandescent.
Incandescent
.
When had a man ever called her anything remotely as amazing as that?
Terry had tried. He’d been full of sweet words and promises. He’d talked about how she’d be the next big thing on the pro circuit because she had the moves and she had the looks. He’d praised her little frame, saying that she’d be inspirational for some of the younger grom girls who wanted to see surfers who looked like they did and weren’t blond bombshells. Even when he was talking her up, she felt like she was hot in an also-ran sort of way. Second-best, even to a guy who was supposedly breaking rules to date her.
Annie bobbed on her board, beyond the break. Her arms burned from swimming out past the lineup and then from paddling to catch waves. She’d already done it more times than she could count this afternoon. This was what surfing had once been like. Consuming. Obsessive.
But before, she hadn’t had Sean at her side. He
cheered her on like
whoa
and
damn
. He was . . . amazing also.
True to his word, he’d watched her surf for a good half hour. Every time she’d come close enough to see him, he’d had a slight smile and a stunned look in his eyes that made her feel as dazzling as a superstar.
Taking slow, deliberate breaths, she turned her face up to the sun. Even that yellow glow felt different on her shoulders when she was in the water. She hadn’t been an indoor person in the intervening years. She’d skateboarded plenty, plus done occasional hiking. But this was . . . different.
This was what she’d needed.
Sean had given it to her.
Maybe she was foolish for having thrown away the cash Sean had offered. Firing him would set her teen center back five years. To make matters worse, there was no chance of this thing they had actually going forward in any way. As if she weren’t screwy enough, Sean was exactly the opposite of the sort of guy she wanted to settle down with. He had more secrets and issues than she did, and that was fucking saying something.
She needed someone who could balance her. Someone who could calm her down at the end of the day and make her feel safe.
Not someone who made her tingle as she came back into shore at his side. She was practically high, her endorphins rushing and turning the tips of her fingers numb.
Throwing herself to the sand was safe. The way Sean flung himself down beside her was hot. Every
inch of her knew where his inches were—and where they would line up.
The sand had started to absorb the heat of the day’s sun, but an inch below the surface it was cool with the remembered chill of the water. She dug her fingers in. The stickier, damp sand beneath provided her with more resistance, but it wasn’t as if she could get a full grip anyhow. Grain by grain, sand didn’t provide resistance. You could poke and dig and scrape right through it. It was only when you smacked the shore bluntly that you were stopped by it.
Maybe Annie didn’t want to be stopped. She pushed up to her elbows, looking down at Sean. “Thanks.”
He had his eyes shut, but his mouth curved in a faintly smug smile. Golden sun kissed his forehead and his nose, but his hollow cheeks were shadowed, and not just because he hadn’t shaved. “I did good?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“Good. You’re welcome.” And with a deep breath, he let it go. That easily. He had his own shit to deal with, but at least he never put it on her. It was his own tangled mess.
She rested one hand in the center of his bare chest. He was thick with muscle, strong enough to withstand her whole weight, if she wanted to throw it at him. The water had beaded up on his skin, outlining the arc of his pecs and the sweep of his lats. A droplet broke free, sliding down the center of his chest to his abs. She wanted to follow it with her tongue. He’d taste like ocean salt. How long before she could
make him taste different? Like fresh skin, licked clean, like something more?
She swallowed against the sudden clenching deep in her body. Her eyes felt too heavy to keep open, and her fingertips wanted to dig into him.
“You shouldn’t be looking at me like that. Not here.”
He was watching her. Except his gaze wasn’t trained on hers. It was somewhere around her throat, or her collarbone. When his gaze dipped, she could feel it like a caress over the swell of her breasts.
“Not here means I
should
do it somewhere else.”
He pushed so that he was sitting fully upright, leaning on his good arm. Even though he’d gone pretty easy, he had to be nursing some pain. She withheld myriad questions about his regimen, exercises, and range of motion. He wasn’t her patient anymore. He
couldn’t
be.
Her grip dropped from his chest to his upper thigh. Even his legs were strong and well muscled. Through the rapidly drying material of his board shorts, she couldn’t feel the texture of his skin, which meant her entire brain stop-stuttered on the fact that he had like zero body fat. Not even there. He was so damn fit. All of him.
She squeezed her knees together against her ache.
“I want to fuck you, Annie,” Sean said in a voice that was
almost
businesslike. Almost. It was certainly miles away from that rough purr he could give at times, but the words were weighted with enough promise that she still shivered. “I want to walk you into my house and into the shower. We’ll wash off, and if we don’t make it to the bed, I won’t mind.”
She swallowed against a sudden knot in her throat. He was looking at her with the sort of intention that made her insides liquid. She wound a finger through the bottom hem of his shorts, and his skin was just as hot as hers. “You sound like you’re trying to warn me.”
“I am.” His hand rose to the side of her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek, and his hands were so big, they swamped her. She shivered, in direct contrast to his cheeky grin. He was such a changeling. Sometimes she wasn’t sure what was the real Sean Westin and what was games. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get another set in.”
“When you’re looking at me like that?” She rose to her knees and balanced her hands on his shoulders. They were close enough to do dirty, naughty things, even though they were surrounded by rapidly growing crowds of tourists. Despite the temptation, she only brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. His short bristly beard sent a tremble through her. “Then I’ll ask if we really, really need the shower.”
Three nights ago, she hadn’t been quite ready. She’d needed to know more about fooling around with Sean, if it would be everything she hoped for, or if it would be something to scorch her through. Now . . . Now all she could think about was having him inside her.
“Yes. Shower is mandatory.”
“Persnickety.”
He laughed against her neck, which, holy shit, did things for her. If she’d thought she was ready before, all of a sudden her body was demanding him. Craving. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she gave a little whimper. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his chuckle turned into a growl as he drew patterns on her skin with the tip of his tongue. “With the way I’m going to fuck you, Annie . . . sand in crevices is a bad idea.”
She groaned. “Oh, ouch. Crevices? That’s about as unsexy a word as possible.”
“You’ll take that back when you see my shower.”
“Promises, promises,” she said, but Sean was already getting up and putting out a hand. She let him grab both her hands and haul her up.
She also let him pick up both the boards, because why not, when a man was offering to be chivalrous. It wasn’t something that came from Sean all the time, but he tucked both boards under one of his arms and waved ahead of himself with the other. She hooked her flip-flops and . . . strutted. The sand made it hard, but she let the sex she was thinking about drop into every swing of her hips.
She did a good job, if the soft grunt Sean gave from behind her was any indication.
He made her feel good. He made her feel like she could do anything, anytime. Since she was facing the house and not him, she let her grin shine through. Maybe it wasn’t mature to grin on the way to mind-melting sex. But her chin was as high as it had ever been, and she felt every movement of her body
like it was something she held in the palm of her hand.
Like she won the damn world.
Sean tucked the boards into a rack at the back of his garage, but then he led the way upstairs three flights, and through his bedroom. He stopped at the archway to the bathroom, then leaned against the pale gray wall. Right in front of them were two freestanding wall panels covered with corrugated metal, each holding a square sink. Behind them was an open area divided roughly into two sections. On the left, multiple showerheads mounted in the ceiling would create a rain-shower effect. On the right was a tub that matched the gray wall tile. The room encompassed the entire narrow end of the building, and the windows ran the full extent, wrapping around three walls. But they were so high that all they showed was pure blue sky, none of the buildings across the street or next door.
She sauntered past the sinks to the shower. She could feel his gaze pinned to her ass and the dip of her spine, so she made him work for it. Twisting her ponytail free, she wound her fingers through her hair and gave it a shake. It fell to skim the base of her neck. “Okay,” she agreed. “You do have a really nice bathroom.”
“I know,” he agreed.
“Though I deny the assertion that it balances the use of the word
crevice
.”
“No, but I think your use of the word should balance out mine.” He shrugged. The way he had his arms folded across his chest emphasized his strength. Even the thickness of his throat drove her crazy and
made her want to sink her teeth into him. But she didn’t really need that. She needed to be chased. She needed to be needed and wanted for herself, not for what image she could project.
The top of her bikini, tied at the neck, came free with a couple negligible tugs. His sharp intake of breath as her breasts came into view was payment enough. She released the band around her ribs. The scrap of material fell to the tile floor, but neither of them watched it go.
Sean pushed away from the wall, but only a step. “The shorts.”
She swallowed her smile. “What about them?”
“Take them off.” He dropped the order as easily as he surfed—with command and intention. He didn’t come any closer either, only waited for her to do as he said.
Which she did. The shoestring-style ties first, and then the Velcro. The shorts pushed off her hips, caught on her ass. She wiggled, which made her tits bounce. His gaze shifted from them to her mouth to her hands on her ass, and she was winning at life, dammit.
He was so gorgeous, it hurt. She looked at his bright eyes and her nipples went tight. When she focused on his mouth, her body readied itself for him.
“The panties next.”
“Technically these aren’t panties.”
“I don’t care. I want them off.”
She wasn’t sure what impish impulse took hold of her. Spreading her feet slightly, she put her hands on
her hips. Not grinning was so damn hard. She bit her bottom lip. “Why don’t you make me?”
S
ean found his feet moving completely of their own accord. A part of him thought that maybe he should give her more time. He’d wanted to keep this slow and enjoy every moment. It wasn’t as if he’d get a lot of chances with a girl like Annie. He didn’t want to speed past the good stuff.
But her tightly budded nipples lifted toward the sky when she put her hands on her hips and gave her hair a toss. The pure pride in her movements was enough to make him want to grab and snatch and hold her. Because she was more than beautiful, she was aware of herself on a level that she hadn’t been close to a month ago.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her close. They pressed together from shoulders to knees, her rack soft against his chest and the welcoming curve of her hips cushioning him. He groaned against her neck. She tasted like the ocean, salt and spice. She felt the way a woman should.
Reaching past her, he tapped the buttons for the shower control. She had her hands laced across the back of his neck, scraping her nails over his closely shorn hair, so he was glad the controls were autoset to his preferred temperature.
Water poured from three spigots lined up across
the ceiling. He walked Annie backward, until they were drenched. It only made her taste better as the ocean’s salt washed away to leave the purity of Annie’s skin. She was the embodiment of calm and rest, but he wanted to drive her crazy.
When he kissed the end of her collarbone, she gave a little gasp and a wriggle. She came up on her toes, pushing closer. “There. God, there.”
His hands clenched on her hips. Water added another layer of warmth, rolling over his shoulders. Drops pattered against the tile, filling his ears with the white noise and leaving room for obsession. He could hear every tiny breath she took, the way her teeth clicked together when he cupped her bare breast.
Her nipple was tight against his fingertips. He circled it once, twice, enjoying the contrast of her pointed flesh to the resilient undercurve of her breast. She wasn’t the fullest handful he’d ever had, but she was the most enticing.
He’d always liked the things he’d had to work hardest for. Working made it easier to believe in the results. Surfing hadn’t been half as easy as staying home would have been, and he’d given that his all. Annie would get nothing less from him.
He took her mouth in a kiss that made all sorts of promises. Delving past her teeth allowed him access to the soft rasps of her tongue. Then he pulled back, taking her bottom lip between his. Over and over again. They were explosions in tiny inches of skin and bodies. The repercussions threatened to spin his mind upside down. Where would he be when she
moved on? With someone different. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that.
Through the years, he’d been a survivor. So he’d be able to survive once again. He’d become a shell, in the best, most protective kind of way. There was nothing wrong with a person taking care of himself.
He wanted to be
better
when she was around.
He tucked his fingertips under the thick band of her bikini bottom. The material across her ass was skinnier than he’d have expected, considering Annie’s reluctance to bare skin except as necessary, but then she’d had shorts on the whole time they surfed anyway. He wasn’t sure why. She was perfectly formed, with no reason to hide any part of herself.
He’d hold her up to the world, if she’d give him half a chance.
When Sean pushed down her swimsuit bottom, the tiny squeak she gave wasn’t supposed to be funny. He stifled the laugh that wanted to rise against her mouth and their kiss. It wasn’t hard, considering the way her body cradled his and the way he throbbed with need for her.
He liked her modesty. He appreciated that she didn’t throw everything she had out there for the world and that, instead, her body was only theirs to share.
It made him appreciate the way she allowed him to cup her behind in both hands. He felt like the king of the world, for a moment.
“You have to get clean,” he managed to rasp. He only managed to bring his head up to her temple, trailing his mouth across the shallow dip.
“Just so you can get me dirty.”
“Exactly so.”
They were twined together and slip-sliding. His every move wrenched a breathy moan or soft sigh from her body. She liked it when he cupped her breast and pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. That move made her fingers dig into the back of his neck. She was holding on by a thread.
He scooped one hand over the globe of her ass, fingertips slipping low and lower, until he found the crease where her thigh met her ass. The heat there was enough to sear him. To lay him flat as if a huge wave had pounded him during a set. He was on his own with Annie to please. And fucking hell, did he like it that way.
He teased the seam of her body. She was shaved close, smooth and slick lips underneath a trimmed portion. Her pussy creamed to ease his way into her. His fingers danced over her plump and swollen lips. She was everything alluring.
He kissed her again, because her mouth was something he could dream about. Perfectly responsive. He wanted more of her. More and more, in any way he could get her. This was a fun distraction from the rumors swirling around him, and that was it. He had been fucked over too many times growing up, and the permanent scars had left him useless for anything but this. But damn, he meant to do his duty up, down, and sideways.
He rinsed her. Shower water sluiced down on
both of them as he ran his hands over and over her, swiping the sand away from her skin. It pooled at the tile around their feet. Her hands tangled with his under his suit, and he sucked in a harsh, deep breath. He had wanted to make her as needy for him as he was for her, and this sort of active proof of her desire was exactly what he’d been looking for. Their fingers twisted as he yanked his ties free; then her hands were all over his ass, his thighs. Everywhere but where he wanted them most—his cock.
But that was probably best. If she touched him too soon, he’d explode. He knew backup methods to make her feel good, but there was no way he’d lose that kind of face. Not with Annie.
He ran his hands down her slender arms, stopping at her hands to lace their fingers together. When he lifted her arms, she went with it, letting him do exactly as he pleased. Her gaze burned from under her lowered lashes, and she slicked her tongue across the plump inside of her bottom lip. Her teeth were dead straight and perfectly white.
He was a little self-conscious about his bottom teeth, the way they slightly crowded in on one another. It wasn’t the imperfection, so much as what they said about his childhood, and the fact that no one had taken care of him.
Not Annie. She’d been well taken care of, but he could tell that something dark and off and noxious had happened to her. She’d reclaimed herself, but only parts. And parts of her, like the core that loved to surf, had been hidden so long that she’d seemed to have almost forgotten about them entirely.
He couldn’t believe how fucking lucky he was
that she’d decided to give him this piece of her. It wouldn’t be forever, that much he knew. But there was something to be said for being half-naked in the shower with a fully naked woman plastered to his front.
She pulled his mouth from hers, letting her head drop back far enough that the ends of her hair brushed the arm he had locked around her back. The damp tendrils made him shudder and hold her closer. Hold her tighter, even as she shifted away.
“It’s been a long time,” she breathed. Her eyes were closed. She swallowed hard enough that he could see her throat clench.
“I know,” he said against the arch of her sternum. He moved his mouth to her breasts.
He used one hand to plump her small mound to his lips, then pulled her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to bite. He liked it. He’d finally gotten through to her.
His cock brushed her soft hip. She widened her legs enough to cradle him between her slick thighs. He pushed, holding his head against her swollen flesh.
She made another little noise, this one slightly louder. More of that. He wanted to hunt those sounds, find out what new ones she could make. Last time she’d come, it had been due to her own fingers, as her mouth had been wrapped around his cock. Not that he was complaining, but it hadn’t afforded him much of a chance to be the one to please her. To find out what she sounded like in the throes of an orgasm.
He meant to fix that.
He kissed her and at the same time he dipped his fingers into her pussy. She was soaking wet. For him. He liked that, naturally. He wanted more.
He controlled their every movement. When he felt like it, he wrapped her wrists between one of his hands, at the small of her back. Her body arched, breasts pointed toward the ceiling. But even sucking and kissing her nipples from that position got barely a response from her. She was an impenetrable fortress. There, but practically absent.
He wrapped his hands in her hair and held her tight, turned her face up toward his. “Tell me what you want.”
She almost looked drugged. Her lashes were heavy, and not only with the droplets of water that glimmered on the tips. But her mouth curved in a mysterious smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be the expert?” Annie didn’t struggle against his grip on her wrists; she only let her neck bend back as well. He had her contained, but he didn’t have her at all. “How many women have you slept with, Sean?”
He shook his head. He didn’t want to answer that. Hard numbers felt sordid in their contained rainstorm. They were something beyond that, weren’t they? Except maybe not. Maybe she was all body and that was it. He kind of liked her mind as well, but maybe he hadn’t been granted full access to that part of her.
Yet.
He wasn’t exactly the sort of man who took no for an answer either.
He wrapped his entire hand over her pussy,
cupping her tightly. Tucked two fingers between her lips and found her opening. She was hot and wet and clasped his fingers tight. He groaned in response to his wickedly fast mind, which was busy imagining what it would be like to be inside her.
But then he let go of her. That gave him a whimper. Her hands rose as if to hold him close, but he grabbed them and placed a kiss in the middle of one palm. “Patience.”
“I don’t like being patient.” Her mouth twisted on a sardonic expression. “I tossed away a whole career based on one night. Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
“This’ll be worth it.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”