Riding the Wave (13 page)

F
isted hands at his sides, Tanner popped his jaw to the side once, then twice. He hadn’t liked the way Jack smirked at Avalon. The sidelong glance he’d slanted at her had aimed straight at her tiny ass and right over her head. She hadn’t even seen it.

Avvie. It was a stupid nickname. Sounded like someone who had seen
Avatar
twenty-five too many times.

His teeth ground together. “I don’t like him giving you nicknames.”

Her mouth tweaked into a knot that looked suspiciously like she was holding back a smile. “So many things wrong with that, I’m not even sure where to start.”

The menu hanging on the back wall had been designed to look handwritten. Tanner rubbed two fingers over his temple. Pizza by the slice, calzones, and salads. None of it looked remotely appealing. “Are you even hungry?”

Avalon shook her head. “Not really. Wanna blow this Popsicle stand?”

Avalon led them to the pier. When Tanner had been young, the end had been topped with a full-sized
restaurant that served bacon cheeseburgers worth ditching class for. Now a much smaller building had signs for an ice cream and slushy shop, plus a bait store. But the extra space made for plenty of room for benches with birds-eye views of the waves. At midday, there weren’t many fishermen left but for a single crusty old dude bouncing between three poles hanging off the very end.

Tanner and Avalon staked out a spot to the south side, sitting quietly side by side.

“That guy’s going to cream it.” He pointed at a surfer in a bright yellow rash guard way below them. Wiry arms and the boy’s relative height to his board said he was probably in his early teens. The grommet was about to get quite a dunking.

Avalon’s head tilted a little. She rested her hand on his thigh as she leaned forward to look past the dark brown railing. A single finger trailed across his bare skin, below the hem of his shorts. The back of her shirt rode up again, baring tanned, creamy skin.

“Why do you say that?”

“Angle of his back foot.” He slung his arm across the back of the bench, turning his face up to the sun. “He’s a goofy-footer trying to ride with the wrong foot forward.”

Time and place.

Though his hands practically curled in on themselves with the sudden need to touch her.

Two minutes later, the yellow-shirted surfer took a header off the end of his board.

“You called it.” Avalon’s face lit up with pure enjoyment. “I can’t believe that one. We’re like forever away.”

He shrugged. “I like working with grommets. I figure it’s the least I can do. I’ve been there, you know?”

The way she smiled at him went to his head as if he’d
run out of air under the water. “Yeah, but not everyone does. It takes time to teach someone to surf. Dedication.”

“I don’t know that I’ve taught anyone. Just given a few tips here and there.” The wood bench was rough under his palm, still soaking up plenty of the afternoon’s bright sun. “One thing my dad gave me was great surfing advice. Don’t want it to die out, at least not that part of him.”

She lightly touched and patted his thigh. Completely innocent and yet something that went right through him. Until she spoke. “You should meet with him.”

“Goddamn it,” he said, but without any malice behind the words. There was only a weary sense of expectation. He’d known things like this would happen once he finally told everyone. Avalon especially would think she should help. Or think she had more insight on what had to happen. “I’ve been there. Done that. There’s no reason for him to be in town if not to cause trouble.”

“You don’t know that.” A tiny wrinkle scored her forehead. He had the most absurd impulse to smooth it away. “Jack said it was business. If he’s even a little bit in the surfing world—”

“He is.” Tanner had followed Mako’s progress with a sort of begrudging interest. He didn’t want to know, but he didn’t want to be taken by surprise, either. The man had bought his first surf shop only a year out of college, a tiny place in Brisbane. He’d only gone up from there. “He owns Burn.”

“No way,” she said on a breath. It was one of the biggest chains in the industry, pushed by innovative marketing and aggressive tactics. She seemed to catch herself, coughing awkwardly and snapping her mouth shut. “Right. Anyway, see? A store in San Sebastian makes sense. Business. It’s totally legit.”

“It would be if I hadn’t already had a nice little run-in with him when I first got to town. Besides, I wouldn’t even need that. I know him.”

“You know a what, a fifteen-year-old boy?” She leaned a shoulder against the back of the bench, giving him a gentle smile. “I’ve heard stories of you at fifteen.”

He’d been nineteen when she’d become friends with his sister. There had only been a few months’ overlap before he’d left for the tour, but he remembered her. Huge eyes and a tentative way of folding her shoulders in, as if she were expecting to be yelled at any second. “You and Mom always were close. Straight off.”

She nodded. “So you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

“I do.”

“So let your mom meet with Mako.” She went after him like a determined shark, all teeth and intent. “She’s a grownup. She can make her own choices.”

“Why should we give in to him? He’s doing shitty things to get himself noticed now that Dad’s dead. Plus, I’ve got a family already.” Sage and his mom had always been good to him. Always been there for him.

“You don’t have room for one more?” Her gaze shifted back out to the lineup of surfers. “I figure everyone can take more family. What’s a little more love?”

His knees bounced. He’d rather be surfing, that was a damned easy call. But he trailed her ponytail through steady fingers. “You’d do anything for someone you considered family, wouldn’t you?”

“I figure the question’s more why
wouldn’t
I?” She tossed the words out lightly to skip across the waves far below them.

But the stiff line of her blade-sharp shoulders said she felt it more keenly than that. “How’s your mom?”

She jerked her head to look at him. “Exactly what are you implying?”

He traced his touch down her spine. The muscles and ligaments there were practically twitching. She’d break if she twisted any tighter. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

She looked back out at the waves, but he could still see the line of her jaw and the tendon down her neck that stood out in stark relief. “Mom’s fine. She took a cruise.”

Time slowed as Tanner sat there, touching lazy circles over Avalon’s back. Plenty went unsaid, but he didn’t see a problem with that. If Avalon was living in a glass house, far be it from him to toss rocks around. Maybe he wanted her to not throw any, either.

Not unless he was going to stick around to catch the fallout.

No matter what he’d told Avalon, taking over the store was not a possibility. He’d no sooner do retail than feed his foot to a shark.

“Hey,” he said, tugging on the ends of her hair. “You know what?”

She looked at him over her shoulder again. The apples of her cheeks went round. He’d give anything to know what she was thinking about. “What?”

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you taste.”

Her lips parted on a gasp and her gaze flicked to the white-haired fisherman at the other side of the pier. But he didn’t even look in their direction.

Tanner hadn’t spoken that loudly. He hadn’t needed to. The only person whom he meant to hear him was Avalon, and he’d certainly gotten her attention.

“We said it was one night. Back to friends, remember?”

Maybe. But he’d been having a harder time than he’d expected getting her memory out of his head. Or making his dick focus on anything else.

For example, he ought to be studying the waves, the way they were breaking. The rhythm of the sets. He had a championship to nail down.

Instead, he had his gaze fully focused on the way her long bangs tickled and tangled in her eyelashes. The way she slowly blinked, her pupils blown wide. Most especially the soft bow of her bottom lip and the way he wanted to nibble on it.

There was something about Avalon that went straight past all the rest of the world and fitted into some ragged part of him. He felt more centered when she flitted around him.

He wove his fingers through the ends of her hair and tugged. The move was light, and if she’d tried to get away, he’d have let her go. Somehow. Even though his hands would mourn the lack of her.

But she leaned into him, her chin tilting up into his kiss. The way they worked together was amazing. She kissed him as if chasing off demons.

Before Tanner knew what had happened, he had a lapful of Avalon. He didn’t mind it one bit. An arm low around her hips, he cupped her jaw in one hand.

Too soon, she pulled her mouth away. Her eyes were hazy, her lips parted and wet. He liked her like that. Wanted more of it.

Her mouth tipped up in a smug smile. “Man, I haven’t made out on the pier in years.”

“I’m not your first, then.” Contentment settled into him like an old friend. Sitting on the pier, Avalon in his
arms, beautiful waves at his feet. Yeah, that worked for him. He smoothed a hand down the length of her throat. Delicious. “I always knew you were a hussy.”

She pulled a face, but the way she didn’t shrink away from the hard-on poking her hip had to indicate at least some hussylike tendencies. He appreciated that in a girl. “My first kiss was here on the pier.”

“No way.” There was something about that idea that resonated through him: That he’d be the last man to kiss her on the pier too. But that was pretty damn ridiculous. She’d go on after he left, find herself someone new. Someone who’d take care of her and remind her to calm down once in a while.

The very thought sent acid through him. The skin over his shoulders chilled.

But Avalon hadn’t noticed. “The old one, before they rebuilt it. Behind the restaurant because Jared was working as a busboy there.”

“I always knew you were a wild child.” He kept smoothing touches over her. He liked the way she felt, the way she settled under his hands. But he also liked driving her up and wild again. He nuzzled his face in her hair, touched his lips to the delicate skin behind her ear.

She shivered, her ass wiggling in his lap. Dude, that sent pressure straight through his cock. He had to grab hold of her. “Do that again,” he said and his voice sounded raspy.

“What?” She was all fake-innocence, her eyes held purposefully wide. “This?” The slow-hipped grind she gave would make a stripper proud.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathed.

“You’re too easy.” Her smile lit up her whole face. “You make a girl think she’s the queen of the world.”

Not all of them. Not by far. There’d been plenty of times when he’d been accused of not giving a big enough of a shit about the women he was with. Which had never made sense to him, because he’d always genuinely cared about them. Maybe not more than any other close friend, though.

Avalon, though. He had the feeling he could learn everything about her and still have that half-fascinated, all-confused feeling about her. Like she was completely unpredictable.

The only shitty part was that he didn’t have it in him to delve. Couldn’t take the time to figure her out. It was something his dad would do, worm his way deep in some poor innocent girl’s life and then leave her, except for periodic booty calls. Tanner couldn’t do that to Avalon.

Even the back of her knee was silky, delicate. He traced figure eights over the skin, relieved when she wiggled on another shiver. “If we get out of here, I’ll show you exactly how to get crowned.”

Her head tilted. “I think that might have been the cheesiest pickup line I’ve heard.”

“Fine.” He held back his laugh by pure will. “If we go to my place, I’ll make you come so hard you’ll scream.”

“Now,
that
is how to pick a chick up.”

T
he thing about a small beach town was that walking everywhere was possible. Sometimes, that was awesome. Walking provided an extra level of connection to the town community; stopping and chatting on the sidewalk became the norm. Not to mention, in California the gorgeous weather meant extra feel good from the sun at any opportunity.

But when a four-block walk stood between Avalon and some record-breaking orgasms, she had a tendency to get impatient.

By the time Tanner had unlocked his back door, she had a hand plastered across his back. “In you go,” she said with a nudge.

“Somebody a little greedy?”

She loved his smile. The pure enjoyment he seemed to take from the world at large.

And she especially loved the way his hands felt closing over her hips. She almost believed she could lean into him and those big paws would never let her drop.

When she gave a little hop, her legs wound around his hips. His hands curved under her ass. The khaki shorts
she’d worn that day were sturdy, but they weren’t that thick. His every fingertip seemed to burn through them, grazing the tender skin at the center of her cheeks.

Hot pleasure rocked her. He made her think wicked things, made her want to grab onto the possibilities. She’d spent so long in her own head, sometimes it was difficult to escape.

But the slow, openmouthed kisses he dragged down her neck were certainly doing their part.

Maybe it spoke to some little weakness of hers. Some depth unplumbed, that she wanted to lean on him so hard. Wanted him to pull her along with him and teach her how to claim that easy sort of center.

But hell, she’d claimed her own path in everything else. Sometimes it was easier to let go.

She wove her fingers through his hair. Even those gold strands seemed brighter and more vibrant than anything about her.

Would he claim her?

She’d always wanted to be flat-out
taken.
Slammed up against a wall and fucked dirty-style. But she’d never been with a man who’d taken those kinds of liberties. Or she’d never driven a man crazy enough to want it.

The way she held her mouth up to his was an invitation. And a test, if she were to peel back the layers she didn’t often like to delve beneath.

Tanner passed with flying colors.

She’d barely lifted her mouth to his before he kissed her. Stroked his tongue over hers, then took her bottom lip between his teeth.

The whole time he carried her, hands still locked under her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grabbed a nice handful of T-shirt. He was a man on
a mission and God forbid she even think about stopping him.

She obviously didn’t want to.

The kitchen counter wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting but she’d be damned if she’d protest. The cold granite at the edge of her shorts sent a chill up through her skin. Nothing could suppress the deep heat curling through her or dampening her pussy.

“There,” Tanner said, leaning back to look down between them. He fitted his pelvis carefully to her. Holy Christ, was he big. Hard.

She held down her shiver only by dragging her nails over the back of his neck. The feeling went through her veins like a hit of top-shelf prescription drugs. “What?”

“Been more than twenty-four hours since I’ve been between your thighs.” He flashed another grin at her, this one completely unrepentant. “I’m thinking we can’t let that happen again.”

“You’re a busy man,” she said. Her fingers danced over his shirt, but that wasn’t enough. “Got that dinner tonight, a meeting tomorrow. And I’ll be in photographer mode.”

A girl needed a little look-see now and then. She curled her fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head.

He laughed as it went, but he let her pull the T-shirt off easily enough.

And then she had him at her disposal. All sorts of lovely muscle and heavy curves. The little fingers of connectors from his ribs to his abs were meant for licking. She wanted that chance. Wanted to climb all over him, exploring as she went.

The best kind of sex was a full-throttle experience.

She spread her hands wide over the ribbed divides of his stomach. Under her touch, they went from already-firm planks to individual boxes.

She liked having that kind of power over him. Knowing that her touch made his lips part and his eyes go a little bit fuzzy.

But when he wrapped her ponytail around one hand and tugged her head back she almost melted straight into the countertop.

She might have to look at how much she liked this feeling of being
owned.
That’d definitely have to be some other time though, because this moment was all about the liquid pleasure spinning out from his mouth onto her neck.

Or the way he didn’t even rock when she locked her ankles at his ass and tried to tug him closer. She let her eyes drift shut, let herself float along.

She’d lose herself to him if she wasn’t careful. Hand everything over, and it would hurt that much more when he left again. Or when she was forced to leave first, in order to
not see.
Tanner had been a force in her thoughts for so long, simmering beneath the surface. If it all went bad, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

She’d much rather get him inside her. She tried to kiss him, but he seemed intent on other purposes. The hard grip of his hands as he skimmed her shirt off over her head said he was a man on a mission.

He cupped her breasts. Made her damned grateful she’d broken out the pink-and-white pretties. Her girls put in quite the showing in their fancy bra. The warm tan of Tanner’s hands right next to her paler skin sent wiggling little tingles down her.

They only got stronger when he ducked his head and
slicked his tongue over the top of one swell. She’d always counted herself as pretty lucky in having responsive breasts, but this was out of control. He tucked his thumbs inside her bra cups, scraping roughly over her nipples.

Maybe it wasn’t ladylike to scrabble off her shorts, but she was pretty sure she’d left ladylike behind. Years ago. She was only trying to grab onto what she still could at this point. Tanner let go of her breasts long enough to tug the material down her hips while she pushed up from the counter.

The tiny scrap of pink-striped panties didn’t conceal much. And it was entirely possible that was a damp spot on the front of them. She didn’t care. Because Tanner lowered one hand to cup her front, sending a whip-sharp crack of pleasure through her when he rubbed.

Her head dropped forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder. Still her hands didn’t stop moving. “Oh God,” she whispered.

“You like that?” There was a fair possibility that the curve of his mouth was another smirk. She hated those and loved them at the same time. Mostly, she wanted to be responsible for shaking them up. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

The words should have been a good thing, but they got her going in all sorts of unpleasant ways. The implication that any sort of again or future or once more waited on them. They had only each connection, each touch. Looking past them only meant looking toward pain when they moved on.

And she was realizing with every kiss how much of her had rolled over and shown its preciously soft underbelly. Tanner could take anything of her and she’d give it.

There was no way. She couldn’t let that happen.

This was sex. Only sex. She’d deal with all the fallout later. It would all be in her own head—and her own heart—anyhow. He’d be gone by the time she realized there were pieces to sweep up.

Lost inside her head again, she scrunched her eyes shut, her head still leaning on his shoulder. At least he held her up so well.

She never expected him to notice. But he did. One hand wedged under her jaw, forced her face up to him. “Here. I’m here, and you’re here.” He flashed a huge grin at her. “And my hand is in your panties, making you wet.”

She didn’t expect the laugh, but at the same time she didn’t know why she wouldn’t. The guy could definitely lighten the mood. “Yes. It is.” She gasped over a particular thrum he made over her clit. “That right there. Do more of that.”

“So demanding,” he chided, but it didn’t sound at all real or concerned. Instead, he did it again. Then again, then more, until she was panting and getting sweaty at the edges.

If he quit, she thought she might freaking climb him and wedge herself down over his cock.

She needed more. A deeper, harder fuck. Something to drive away all these happy, cheery thoughts sweeping through her.

He seemed to be reading her mind again. Two fingers filled her, stroking a spot deep inside her that sent a breath-robbing pleasure streaking over her limbs. At the same time, he unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, letting them droop to his hips.

There was no way she could let that go unnoticed. She filled her hands with his length. And holy Christ was
there a lot of him to hold. She’d felt him the other night, of course, but that wasn’t the same thing. When she curled her fingers around his girth, they didn’t meet at the tips.

So
that
was why he’d rocked her socks so hard.

It was almost a relief. Simple biology, something that could be replicated with someone else.

Right?

Pushing the thoughts out of her head was easier this time. Better, with his fingers working magic inside her—heart-stopping strokes that had her mewling and rocking her hips up toward his touch.

A condom made its way into her hand, fished out of Tanner’s pocket. She unwrapped it, then slowly rolled the latex down Tanner’s shaft. It was very possible that she took her time for the sheer pleasure of hearing his inward-drawn breath.

“You’re a fucking minx—you know that?”

She laughed into his shoulder. “Did you call me a minx? Does anyone say that anymore? Oh my God, I’m going to tell the world what a dork you are.”

“You do and you’ll regret it.” He drew his fingers out of her, rubbing her wet juices over her clit. She had to bite her lip to avoid letting him know how hard that shook her or how good it felt.

She couldn’t afford to give him any more ammo. He did plenty well on his own and she’d rather not turn into a puddle once he left.

“Why don’t you try to stop me?” she said, but the words even sounded strained to her.

Because they were such an empty threat. He only had to pull her hips forward as he notched his cock in her pussy.

He slid in with one smooth thrust.

And fucked if she wasn’t owned again.

She slammed her eyes shut, but as quickly opened them again. He was staring at her, staring in her eyes, as she’d expected. The cool blue of his was comforting and exhilarating at the same time.

On a hot surge of sensation, she bit her lip again.

“Still think I’m a dork?” His voice had dropped an octave and the very sound of it rasped against sensitive nerves.

She shook her head. He gripped her breast, deliberately letting the rhythm of his strokes in her rub her nipple over his palm. “Keep doing that and I’ll call you anything you want.”

“Is that right?” He kissed her then, swallowing the noises she seemed to be making without even realizing it. Little gasps and moans and even one or two squeaks when he hit a spot inside her that turned her knees to jelly.

With little grasping slides along his back, she pulled him closer. Buried her face in the crook of his neck.

She didn’t even have to try for the orgasm. It came with the hard slam of his cock in her, the pleasure that racked her.

One huge, roaring wave that broke over her, like getting slammed by thousands of pounds of water.

It was that devastating.

Tears prickled her eyes. But still she couldn’t give him up. Wouldn’t. Her arms wrapped around him, she waited out the last strokes he slammed into her. Rode the wave a little longer.

Because every wave eventually came to shore.