Walk on the Wild Side (3 page)

‘You want the air conditioning on?'

So he'd noticed she was sweating.

‘It doesn't work.' One of the many idiosyncrasies of the car that one day she'd get fixed.

‘You should walk in town anyway.'

She sent him a look.

‘Carbon footprint,' he said mock piously.

‘My heels don't leave much of a footprint anyway.'

He laughed and didn't talk more, didn't need to direct as there was only the one road to follow. And she needed
to concentrate and not be further distracted by the giant hunk of man making her car feel like a matchbox toy. But after the worst hill bit she began to relax into it, able to take in the expansive view of bronze earth and blue sky and sparkling water. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was nice—as if they were leaving all the clutter and noise of city life behind them.

‘So why do your batteries need recharging, Kelsi? What do you do that's made you so worn out?'

‘Computers,' she said. ‘Website design.'

‘You sit in front of a screen all day?'

‘And you want to know the shocking thing?' She grinned and touched the accelerator with a heavier tread. ‘I like it.'

He shook his head. ‘Crazy.'

He told her to take the left when the road forked. The gravel road dipped, leading down to sea level. And then it ended. She pulled in, parking beneath one of the few trees around. She stepped out of the car, uncomfortably hobbling on the one shoe. He got the bag off the back seat and pulled something from it.

‘What is that?' She stared at it.

He twirled it on his finger and grinned outrageously. ‘It isn't obvious?'

‘And you think I'm going to wear it?'

‘The store didn't stock sunscreen. And I'm betting you don't have any in that uselessly small bag of yours.'

No, she didn't. Because she always, always, always stayed in the shade. Resigned, she took the wide-brimmed monstrosity of a hat from him and slapped it on her head.

‘I have a wrap for your shoulders, too.'

She took the long stretch of cloth and reminded herself to avoid looking in his eyes. They made her want to smile
too much. And they were filled with a fire she longed to feel on her flesh. Crazy—she definitely needed a day to recharge.

‘I had the feeling you'd like the colour.'

It was jet black. Like every item of clothing she already had on.

‘How astute of you.' She wrapped it around her shoulders and walked a few paces. Then she stopped. ‘How am I supposed to walk on this?'

‘Maybe you should take your other shoe off. Get your feet wet.'

‘Get my feet dirty, you mean.' She looked at the sand and barely suppressed a shudder. ‘I hate the beach. All the little biting insects come to get me. You can see them circling overhead, ready to dive-bomb and sink their teeth in.'

‘You must have sweet blood.'

‘Now who's the one sounding like a vampire?' She had to send him an arch look. ‘I don't like sand either. It sticks everywhere and my skin gets itchy.'

‘Guess we won't be rolling in the waves, then, huh?'

‘Pardon?' She stopped walking.

‘Surfing,' he explained, the twinkle gleaming brighter in his eyes. ‘You don't want to surf? I know where I can get a couple of wetsuits.'

‘I don't surf and I definitely don't wear wetsuits.' She shuddered even more obviously.

He laughed. ‘Next you'll be telling me you don't even swim in the sea.'

‘Never,' she admitted with embarrassment. ‘I'd rather be in a private pool.'

‘With all those chemicals?'

OK, so she knew she was pathetic. But she couldn't resist sparring with him a little. ‘Isn't the sea more polluted?'

‘Not this bit of beach.'

She put her hand to her heart in drama academy style. ‘But there might be sharks.'

‘Or friendly dolphins.'

‘Jellyfish.' She fluttered her fingers in his face.

‘Starfish and shells to admire.' He caught her hands and held them still in front of him, smiling widely. ‘Face it, you can't win on this. Nature might bring its dangers, but its beauty makes them worth the risk.'

Kelsi couldn't think of another argument—too distracted by the marvel of nature right in front of her. What with the sea/sky-blue eyes and the slightly shaggy dark hair and the golden skin, he was quite the gorgeous surfie type. Easygoing and relaxed in nature but with no fat, just pure, lean muscle in his body—she could feel his potential strength even from the light grip he had on her.

Anticipation licked through her. She hadn't been in the company of anyone so attractive in a long, long time. OK, ever.

Pure guy candy.

She suddenly realised she was breathless—almost panting—and they hadn't even begun the slight climb over the sand dune down to the water. She pulled her hands free of his and made herself stop visually feasting on him. It was a wonder she wasn't drooling. She knew she was blushing so she made a show of looking around so he couldn't see the stain rising on her cheeks.

There wasn't another car in the car park, and not another soul on the small curve of beach. No boats in the distance on the horizon. They could have been the only two people on all the earth for all she knew.

It was a surprisingly liberating thought.

When she turned back he kicked off his shoes and pointedly stared at the one left on her foot. She sighed
but removed the darn thing, ignoring how nice the soft, warm sand felt as her toes sank into it.

This was crazy. Totally crazy. She was at a remote beach with a complete stranger. She was in the
sun
.

But it was heavenly.

She glanced at him as he strolled easily beside her. His limp was almost imperceptible now—thank goodness. But he was grinning like a wolf who knew everything.

‘What?' She pulled herself together and tried to recover her wits.

He laughed then and she knew it was too late—she was already succumbing to the power of the environment. Even though she knew the sand flies were lining up preparing their attack, even though she could already feel the burning power of the sun. What did it matter when her lungs could fill and stretch with fresh, clean air? What did it matter when she was accompanied by a guy who was like a summer sprite—full of fun and sun and sexiness?

The hard ball of stress wedged just above her stomach softened. The office was miles away, computers miles away,
pressure
miles away. Instead there was just the beautiful blue of the sea and the sky stretching as far as she could see. And the warmth under her feet and on her skin thawed the cold inside her, too.

She walked to the edge of the water, aware that a metre or so away he'd taken a few steps into it so the waves lapped over his ankles. She turned away from him, gazing at the bronze hills behind them and then back to the deep blue but, all the while, so incredibly aware of the picture of male beauty he made. She walked alongside the edge, listening to the gentle splashes his feet made as he walked two paces to the side and behind her.

‘So what's your favourite season, then?' he asked suddenly. ‘Winter, right?'

‘Yes.' She grinned at her own predictability.

‘Mine, too.'

‘No way.' Surprised, she turned and walked backwards to look at him.

‘Yeah.' He nodded. ‘I spend my life chasing winter.'

She frowned. ‘But you're so tanned.'

He laughed. ‘Because I'm here for the summer recovering.' He bent and rubbed his hand over his knee. ‘This is an old injury—you didn't do that with the car before.'

‘Really?'

‘I had an operation a couple weeks ago. I'm about to go for a rehab stint in Canada. Get back into training.'

‘Training for what?'

He grinned a little sheepishly. ‘I snowboard.'

She stopped walking altogether. ‘For a living?'

‘Professional snowboarder. Yes.'

‘Seriously?' Wow. No wonder he looked so fit. She had to stifle a giggle. She'd never got this close to a professional athlete before. ‘So.' She coughed. ‘You're training for the Olympics?'

‘The Olympics aren't for a couple more years, there's some other big comps before then but, yes, the Olympics are on the horizon.'

He really was serious? ‘Have you been to other Olympics?'

He grinned. OMG he had.

‘I went as a demonstration last time but at the next Olympics mine is an official event. The first gold is coming home with me,' he said. The grin had gone—now he was utterly, utterly serious.

And, oh, my, she believed him. ‘So you go from season to season—here to Canada?'

‘Or France, China.' He nodded. ‘Wherever has the best snow.'

‘And you work on the ski field or have sponsors or something?'

Surprise flashed in his eyes for a second. She didn't mean to embarrass him, but she didn't think professional snowboarders would get paid all that much. It wasn't exactly football and on the front page all the time.

‘Uh, something like that.' He nodded. ‘You ever snow-boarded?'

She shook her head and turned back to walk along the shoreline.

‘Skied?'

‘No.'

‘But I thought you liked winter.'

‘I do.' She wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘I like curling up in front of a fire.'

‘That's what you do
after
the day on the slopes.'

She mock shuddered again.

‘You should try it some time.' His amusement warmed his words. ‘You'll see I'm right. Like I'm right about this.'

She heard a big splash and turned in time to see him kick again—sending a spray of water up, splashing the hem of her dress.

‘It's not so hard, is it?' he asked.

‘What?' She looked at him, the heat deep in her belly bubbling now.

‘Admitting defeat.'

She moved towards him, unthinkingly taking a step into the water. It wasn't as cold as she'd expected. So she took another.

Tanned, relaxed, utterly at home, he smiled at her. All confident. All successful. All gorgeous.

And interested. She couldn't believe it but there was no way she was misinterpreting the wickedness in his smile.
No man had ever looked at her with such obvious attraction. Never a man as gorgeous as him.

It was intoxicating—making her feel powerful and beautiful and bolder than she'd ever been in her life. All of a sudden super-vixen urges surged high. Crazy, wanton, wild feelings. And in the madness of the midday sun she let them all out.

‘You've made me wet,' she said. Her gaze locked to his, she let him see her willingness. ‘But if you're going to do that, you could at least do it properly.'

His brows lifted and the splashes sounded less gentle as he walked closer. His eyes sparkled more blindingly than the reflection of the sun on the water and his smile softened to intimate. His voice was on the same wave—wonderful. ‘How wet do you want to get?'

Excitement shot through her, stiffening every muscle. She tilted her head back so she could keep the eye contact as he came right into her space. ‘How wet can you make me?'

J
ACK'S
hands moved, the very tips of fingers first caressing her collarbones, then lifting to cup her jaw. ‘You want to drown?'

Kelsi already was. In the rampant desire flooding her system. ‘Yes,' she whispered.

She closed her eyes against the sun as he bent towards her. His lips merely grazed hers—a light rubbing back and forth—until she parted her mouth more and reached onto tiptoe to demand a heavier pressure.

She got it. His hand shifted to the back of her head, holding her firmly as his tongue delved into her hungry mouth. He stroked her—hot and powerful and with unmistakable purpose. The explicitness only excited her more. The force of her need took her by surprise—roaring through her as he unleashed the sensual strength she'd sensed he had. She'd been attracted to him from the moment she'd recovered enough to actually
see
him after the accident. But even so she hadn't realised the extent of the chemistry she'd feel with him—that any hesitation or caution or modesty would be flung far from her at the first kiss.

‘Kelsi,' he muttered, breaking a few millimetres away. ‘I fly out to Canada tomorrow.'

‘That's nice,' she said, half dazed and desperate to touch her mouth to his again.

He half laughed, half groaned. ‘Yeah, but—'

‘It's OK, Jack,' she said, stroking his jaw with her fingers. ‘Let's just enjoy this afternoon.'

On this beach with its infinite grains of sand and the water that would ebb and flow for ever, she felt as if this afternoon could be as endless as the number of stars in the sky. The fact there'd be no tomorrow was just perfect—there'd be no rejection then either. She'd had too much of that in the past. But she could be free if there was just the here and now.

He looked closely into her eyes, until he was seemingly satisfied with what he saw. As he should be—because it was her total submission to the spark between them. To how wanted he made her feel. And how much she wanted. Her ‘on' button had been pushed—but even she hadn't known she was capable of such thermonuclear heat.

He was so tall she had to bend back to kiss him, but that was good because it pushed her body hard against his. She felt the impact of the contact shuddering through every cell. Every nerve pinged with the need to know more of him—all of him—her body hummed for completion.

She rotated her hips, unable to remain still when there was the pleasure of him to be had. He slid his arms right around her, one hand low on her back pushing her even closer, and then he rocked, too, mimicking the movement of sex, making her want their bodies to be sealed—submerged.

In seconds she reached flashpoint. Moaning into his mouth as sexual energy rocketed around her body, desperate for release. He broke apart again and she moaned louder. But he walked around her, pressing kisses on her face and neck as she panted. His fingers traced over her shoulders, playing with the thin straps of her dress. Until he stood behind her, both of them facing out to the horizon.
But she was unable to see it, lost in the sense of intimacy he'd spun around her.

She trembled as he slid his hands up her thighs, taking her dress up with them. She didn't care how outrageous she was being. How fast this was. All she wanted was his touch—everywhere.

Despite the tightness contracting her muscles, her legs wouldn't hold her any more. She leant back against him. Firm hands on her waist pulled her down to her knees, an inch of water washed over her legs—delightfully cool against her burning skin.

‘You want to surf something?' He nuzzled the nape of her neck.

She tried to push her knees farther apart to give him better access, but they dug into the wet sand. He'd knelt, too, his front sealed to her back, his thighs framing hers, his erection pressing behind her. She couldn't answer, her breathing shot, so hot, as he kissed over the top of her shoulders. His warm breath skimmed over her chest, teasing her nipples to even tighter nubs.

His big arm curled around her, his forearm pressing against her belly as his hand reached lower, fingers slipping under her dress and then beneath the band of her silk knickers. She shuddered as he went lower still, touching her intimately—gently, slowly finding that swollen spot that was so sensitive. His other hand wrapped around her, too, teasing her breasts—cupping them, gently massaging and then tormenting each taut nipple.

She rocked against him, turning her head back to catch his mouth with hers. She liked the strong kisses, she liked the feeling that she was encircled in his power. He was all around her, and in the prison of his arms she sensed she was about to soar. His caresses were sweet rhythmic torture as he kissed her hard.

She ran her hands over his thighs—spreading her fingers wide over their rock solid strength, rubbing him harder as her excitement grew. His touches quickened in response, and went lower, deeper into her slick heat.

She cried out as he pushed inside. His fingers thrust as she ground down on them in ecstasy. His thumb massaged her clit some more—driving her crazy. She was hot and wet and squirming but it still wasn't enough. Her head fell back, resting on his shoulder. He kissed her neck, sucking, savouring as his fingers plunged and stroked deeper still.

Encompassed by heat and strength and sex, she groaned in pleasure, unable to form the words to beg for what she wanted—for more, all of him, the ultimate intimacy. Her fingers dug into his thighs but it was too late—the pressure built, too much for her to hold, bursting her apart. He held her tight against him as she convulsed, the pleasure coming in violent waves that were too exquisite to endure.

Closing her eyes in the white-hot intensity, she cried out, her raw scream ringing out across the empty beach.

Shuddering, she collapsed back, overwhelmed. Gently he stroked the inside of her thighs, soft swirling touches that sent sparks rippling through her system. It was no longer blood that travelled along her veins, but brilliant light—a kaleidoscope of colour and sensation. And all of it magnificent.

As she floated halfway back to reality she felt the coiled tension in him—iron solidity contrasting with her liquid, languid muscles.

‘Feel better now?' he asked softly in her ear.

She had no hope of voicing an answer—no words could express how she felt. No one had ever done that before—no one had held her and focused so purely on her and her
needs alone. No one had made her feel so alive. No one had made her feel so fulfilled—and so hungry.

She moved, redrawing her strength, twisting round to look at him. Slowly she shook her head. She said nothing, just crossed her arms over her body, took hold of her dress and pulled it up over her head. She tossed the thin silk up the beach behind him.

Boldly she watched him watch her. She saw his swallow, saw the colour staining his golden skin, saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead, saw the tension in his every muscle. He really did want her.

She was so glad she'd decided to wear her very best matching black bra and knicker set to the beauty salon that morning. Silly how important it seemed to impress another woman—especially one who was about to wax your most private areas. But now she watched with victorious pleasure as his breathing became more ragged as he gazed at the scraps of silk and the detailed lace that made a peek-a-boo show of her nipples. Her breasts pushed tightly against the material and her knickers were drenched—but he knew that already.

She reached forward and lifted the hem of his T-shirt. His breath hissed as he held up his arms so she could get it off him.

‘You want it all?' he muttered roughly.

‘Yes, please.' She leaned forward and kissed his throat, nuzzling the stubble-roughened skin of his jaw.

‘Are you sure?'

She pulled back to look in his eyes. ‘Don't you want to?'

‘Oh, honey,' he choked on a laugh. ‘I want like you wouldn't believe. But don't feel like you have to—'

‘Oh, I have to. I absolutely
have
to.' Smiling with relief, she ran her hands over his chest, marvelling at his
physique. He was tall and big but not body-builder beefy. Rather he was long and lean. His skin stretched smooth and warm over him—not an ounce of fat beneath, just honed muscles. High Definition in the flesh. And so much better than any onscreen star. He tensed even more as she spread her hands wide over the light sprinkle of hair, the tips of her little fingers teasing ever so lightly over his mouth-watering nipples.

Yes. She wanted like she couldn't believe as well.

She reached up and kissed him, sucking his lip into her mouth, feeling a weird freedom to explore every kind of fantasy with him. Because this was all fantasy now—a fantasy moment on a fantasy beach that she had to make the most of. His hands encircled her waist and she kissed him as if she'd never kissed another—with nothing but passion, hiding none of her need. Not feeling in the least self-conscious or shy or inadequate, just turned on and ready for pure pleasure, pure indulgence.

She knelt closer, pressing on his lap. ‘Come on.' She wanted him in her and pounding hard, hard, hard.

‘Make me.' His eyes glittered with diamond-bright light.

Anticipation tingled through her at his challenge. How reckless of him—it was more than an invitation to play, she wanted to torture. She wanted to drive him wild. To make him shake and beg for release as he'd made her. And she wanted him to have an orgasm like the one that was still sending aftershocks along her nerves, leaving her with that incredible driving need for more.

He was utterly motionless as she undid the button on his long denim shorts, and unzipped them. His erection sprang free. Commando man, huh? She pushed his chest. He smiled and lay back onto the sand, the water lapping his skin. Astride him in her underwear, she looked down
at the embodiment of sensual perfection. He knew what he was doing, he totally knew. An experienced lover. But that was OK, because today she wanted the best. She'd never had the best of experiences in bed, never been brilliant, as her ex had brutally informed her, but now the lingering high from the most awesome orgasm of her life gave her confidence, and from the way Jack's muscles were straining she thought she had a shot at not bad.

So her smile matched his in wickedness. Until she realised she didn't know where to touch, which bit to kiss. She bit her lip, let her finger walk over him to start while she decided. The rippling reaction of his muscles was inspiring—so she let her mouth follow the path. All too soon she knew what she wanted, the crunching urge deep inside her womb fuelled her passionate hunger to take him in her mouth and pleasure him until he'd only be able to see stars—right now. Straight to the joystick.

Her hand clamped round the base of his erection. He groaned as she kissed him. She felt his whole body tense up even more. She licked the head of him, swirling her tongue over the thick ridge. And then she opened up and took him in. He was big, silky soft and iron hard and she couldn't get enough of him. She pumped her hand to match the movement of her mouth, intoxicated by the scent of him and the taste of salt, the heat of the sun beating down on her back. His breathing was as laboured as hers now so she used both hands, her tongue, and increased her speed and suction.

‘Kelsi,' he gasped. ‘If you want what I think you want then you have to stop.' His fingers dug into her arms. ‘Now.'

Flushed, she lifted her head and looked up at him. She firmed her grip on him and spoke her mind. ‘I don't want
to stop.' She wanted him to come hard and loud and utterly uncontrollably—as she had.

He closed his eyes. Flashed them open again, determination anew in his expression. He moved fast. Pulling the straps of her bra down, and then the cups, so her breasts were in his hands.

‘Beautiful.' He strained up, gusting hot air on her nipple just before he sucked it into his mouth.

She shook, her fingers loosening their grip on him. At that he moved, flipping her over onto the sand, the water splashing as he pressed kisses to her belly, his hands peeling her sodden knickers down.

He stopped as he looked at her exposed body, his eyes widening. ‘You're a redhead.'

Kelsi screwed her eyes shut. She wasn't red. She wished she were—a lovely rich auburn or something. But in truth she was orange. As in carroty. Bright orange hair with almost see-through skin that freckled up the moment she got within ten miles of a sunny spot. She'd spent her childhood being teased about it—dyed it the minute she'd had the money to buy the chemicals. Thank goodness for L'Oreal.

But she was still orange down there, although she'd thought about dying that many times, too. Sensitive skin meant she'd never taken the risk. Her self-consciousness sprang back as the joy got killed. She moved, wanting to curl away so he could no longer see her. Years of taunts haunted her. The reaction was never good from men. She should have remembered that. But he moved, his hands gripping her, his leg weighing heavy on hers so she couldn't escape. And he looked up at her, his blue eyes seeming to pierce right through her.

‘Don't tell me you were going to get rid of it at the spa today.' He slid a finger through the narrow strip of
hair and suddenly she lost the ability to even think about moving away. ‘It's beautiful.' He stroked her some more before bending down and licking her as slowly and with as much reverence as a man knowing it was his last ever taste of paradise. ‘Don't ever get rid of it.'

It was the first time a man had even hinted that he liked it. The few others she'd been with had seemed to find it amusing—and not in a way that made her feel very sexy.

Jack looked up at her, registering how still she was. ‘I mean it.' And then he bent again, his mouth convincing her wordlessly.

Her legs parted wider with his touch, her desire skyrocketing again—only more so. Never had she felt so desired. Never had she had someone hold her like this.