Wet: Part 2 (12 page)

Sarah didn’t take her eyes off of Paul, surely hoping she’d finally have a chance with him if Rhees left him there on his own, but Paul didn’t take his puzzled eyes off of Rhees. Rhees made a jerking motion with her hand, still pointed at Sarah’s head, blew a puff of air at her extended fingers as if blowing the smoking end of a gun. She holstered her pretend pistol and walked off, leaving Paul with his mouth agape.

“Excuse me. I need to go!”

“But Paul, this will be the first chance we’ve had to really get to know each other,” Sarah whined.

He didn’t miss a beat, as if he hadn’t even heard her. He smiled giddily like a kid as he stuffed his things into a nylon briefcase and took off after Rhees, leaving Sarah still sitting at the table, looking disappointed.

Rhees walked faster than normal, and it took Paul a minute to catch up.

“Rhees? Hey, Rhees!” He finally reached her, but she still didn’t stop. He grabbed her arm, making her swing around to face him. “What was that all about?” 

“Nothing.” She glanced away. She looked angry.

“Are you jealous?” He finally had to ask, but knew he sounded much too amused.

“Should I be?” Rhees finally dared to look at him.

She
was
jealous and Paul couldn’t help the silly grin on his face.

“What!” She impatiently folded her arms.

Rhees didn’t understand the look on his face.

“I don’t know.” He grinned his goofy grin again, as if he could ever look goofy.

She didn’t soften her scowl. She even felt a strange urge to smack him, sure he was making fun of her.

Still smiling, he shrugged again. “It’s just . . . I always thought how dreadful it would be to have a girlfriend, you know?” He seemed to have a hard time containing his glee. “Dreadful to put up with things like being told it’s time to go home, like a little kid being sent to his room. And things like, let’s say . . .
jealousy
.” He smirked and looked down like it embarrassed him to admit it, but he also looked a little smug and much too flattered to think that maybe she was.

“But damn girl! That. Was. So.
Haaawt!
” He looked at her like an excited little boy on Christmas morning. His eyes sparkled more than usual.

“You’re happy I’m jealous?”

He nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide and ridiculous grin still intact.

“Well don’t think it’s ever going to happen again. Do you hear me? If you think I’m going to put up with you running around, blatantly and grossly flirting—flashing those—those beautiful blues of yours to all the girls—”

He put his arms around her and picked her up so he could look her in the eyes. She had no choice but to put her arms around his neck for support and then she couldn’t help it, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She’d become comfortable with the position. It made her feel safe and she needed to feel safe.

“Did I do that?” he asked, still a little too amused. “Because I don’t think I did anything like that.”

They eyed each other for an extended time and all the silliness died away, no longer anything silly about the way he looked at her.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, Dani Girl.” He studied her a second longer before dropping his head, glancing down. His brow furrowed and his lips twitched a few times. With his head still bent forward, his eyes slowly rolled back up to meet hers. It gave him a devilish appearance that made her nervous. He made a quick, growling sound.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Dani Girl.” He gave her a second to prepare and then he did, long and wet, and she didn’t mind.

“Haaawt!”
He growled and kissed her again.

Chapter 12

“W
hat do you guys do?” Claire asked. They sat at their chairs, each working on their computers. “In all the time you two spend together, if you’re not—you know?”

Rhees giggled, nervously. “Claire!”

Claire shrugged. “I know it’s not
that
. Why do you think I’m asking?” They turned their chairs to face each other.

“We talk. We read, work on computers together, cook. Well, I cook. Paul watches and tries to help, but he’s pretty hopeless in the kitchen.” She smiled at the thought of him lurking in the background, unsure of what to do with himself, but never abandoning her to cook and clean alone. At least he kept her company.

“Sometimes we dance. He’s always asking me to teach him. He says he wants to look like he can keep up when we dance in public. I’m not sure why he thinks he can’t. His mother insisted her kids take dance lessons for a couple of years, so he knows all the traditional ballroom—” She suddenly worried she’d breached his trust. He never spoke of his family, except to her, and even that was a recent and rare development. She made a mental note to be careful. She didn’t want to share personal information he wouldn’t share himself.

“He’s probably using it as an excuse to watch you at your sexiest. You’re pretty sexy when you dance. Have you ever noticed any drool during these
lessons
?” Claire fought back a smirk.

“Claire!” Rhees blushed and got all giddy. “How do you know I don’t enjoy watching
him
? The man’s got moves—my pretend boyfriend is really
hawt
—in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed.” Claire didn’t try to hide her shock. “I’m just surprised to hear you have.”

Rhees felt her face grow warm again, embarrassed, but not as much as she would have been a few weeks before. “He also tries to teach me self-defense. After—” Her breath caught. She wondered if she’d ever be able to think about what Mario tried to do to her without the threat of a panic attack.

“He worries I can’t defend myself, so he shows me things to do under various situations. We always end up fighting though—not self-defense fighting, real fighting. He gets so mad that I won’t try to hurt him. He tells me,
‘Okay, now kick me as hard as you can’.
But I can’t do that and things escalate, and the next thing I know, he’s all angry and bothered.”

Claire watched her, fascinated.

“I’m a hopeless cause. We go through that over and over. You’d think he’d drop it and save his angry energy for something else.”

“I think you kind of like angry Paul,” Claire teased. Rhees bit her lip and raised a guilty brow, but didn’t admit it with a vocal response. They both laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder how he got so aggressive. He’s so tough, inside and out. Is it just a man thing? Are all men like that? My dad was tough, but not like Paul—Paul is so
high-strung
.”

“Dobbs wouldn’t hurt a fly—” Claire made a strange face and glanced at Rhees. The memory of Dobbs slugging Paul came to mind. “That’s why I fell in love with the big lug. He’s so mild-mannered—at least he
was
. He’s going through a mid-life crisis or something.” She made the face again.

“Well it’s no wonder Paul’s in such good shape. You’d think that with all the physical activity he does during the day, all his sports, the diving, and adrenaline-filled activities he’s always up to, he’d be too tired to swim so much in the middle of the night. I can’t believe how much energy that man has. He’s practically hyper sometimes.”

“He swims? In the middle of the night?” It took Claire a minute, but she burst into riotous laughter.

“What?” Rhees asked innocently.

“Oh Rhees, baby.” Claire had never called her that, but somehow Rhees knew it was about to fit the situation. “Hun, does he tend to swim when—have you noticed him—does he have a
bulge
?” Claire practically stuttered, appearing to have trouble spitting it out. 

Rhees understood, at least that part of her question. “Yes. It does indeed coincide. I’m not
that
stupid. He’s open about that with me. Swimming makes it go away, burns off that energy.”

“Oh Sweet.” Claire laughed again, even louder. “I’d bet money it’s not the swimming that makes it go away. It just gets him away from you so he can—you know.”

Rhees didn’t know.

Claire made a gesture by forming an O with her hand and she shook it a couple of times. She laughed again when Rhees drew a blank.

“Well good for him.” Claire moved along. “I’m glad that
swimming
is working for him . . . and keeping you safe. What do you talk about?”

“Everything,” Rhees said quietly, knowing she should know what Claire meant, but she didn’t really want to figure it out. She brushed it off and brightened again.

“I do most of the talking, most of the time. I have to practically threaten him to get him to open up to me, but he’s always a good listener. He says he appreciates that we don’t have to talk sometimes, that he feels comfortable with me because I’m not all uptight like other girls, when we go, sometimes hours, without speaking at all.”

Rhees knew Paul, she believed, better than most people. She remembered the pictures Regina kept of him, sitting on the deck, watching the sunset. A quiet, private, even shy, man, Paul needed his time to reflect on whatever he spent so much time reflecting on. She liked knowing he felt comfortable doing it with her around. 

“I see how happy you are.” Claire looked envious. “Both of you.”

Rhees smiled. “I am happy.”

“I’m happy for you then. I never would have thought. Paul!”

“I know,” Rhees said dreamily. “Who would have thought, right? Paul is . . . he’s always been great. It’s just . . . he doesn’t often show this side of himself—the side I get to see.”

“All right, but don’t stop being
careful
, okay?”

“Claire!” Rhees grew defensive. “That’s not fair. He’s done nothing to make you say that.”

“It bloody surprises me, that’s all. When you two started this weird relationship, I thought
you’d
be the one changing.” Claire had a concerned look on her face. “I knew the old Paul too well. I’m not sure what it’ll take to stop worrying about my friend.”

“Me, your friend, or Paul, your friend?”

Claire’s head dropped back and she laughed.

“Paul and I are not friends.”

oOo

Rhees sat in Claire’s chair, watching Paul at his computer. He concentrated on his work and didn’t notice how she stared. In his focus, not only did his mouth move through its usual motions, but his tongue had jumped into the act. It poked out, and he’d lick his lips, hold it in the corner of his lips, bite it, roll it, lick again. She finally laughed, and he turned to see what she was up to.

“What?” He seemed cautious, his face still held the serious expression.

“Nothing.” Rhees giggled at getting caught watching him. “Just that mouth of yours, and your tongue.” She giggled again. “Always busy doing something.”

“You mention it a lot.” He rolled his chair closer to her and her eyes grew wide in anticipation of what she imagined was coming. He leaned into her face, just barely, not touching her, and watched her, curiously.

“I can think of a few other things I’d like to do with my mouth . . . my
tongue
,” he teased.

Her smile dropped along with the humor he’d aimed for.

“After all this time, I wish you—” he rasped out just above a whisper. “Is it my germs, or is it just me?” Their eyes locked in serious consideration. His expression slowly twisted into remorse, then confusion as hers changed to mischief.

“Do it. I dare ya.”

His eyes grew wide at her challenge. “Oh, Dani Girl, you do
nawt
want to be daring me to do anything.”

“I double dog dare you.”

Paul studied her eyes to be sure, but he wasn’t about to argue. He leaned in and kissed her softly, holding the kiss for a moment, tenderly, but timidly outlining her lips with his tongue, careful to not impose himself on her more than she could handle. He leaned back just enough to look at her, gauge her reaction. She hadn’t flinched, cringed, or shied away. He moaned pleasurably and licked his lips, savoring what little of her still lingered there.

Rhees felt no fear and hoped she’d shown him she didn’t mind anymore. She must have, because he grinned, looking very satisfied, before he leaned in to do it again.

Chapter 13

R
hees stepped into her shower, yanked the curtain closed, stepped as far to the side as possible, and turned on the water so she wouldn’t get wet right away. Routinely, she took a deep breath, taking a second to brace herself before stepping into the shocking coldness. She was just about to take the plunge.

“Rhees!” Paul said.

A chill ran down her spine, colder than the shower water she hated so much. Paul stood right there, in her bathroom, nothing but a thin shower curtain between her naked body and him.

“You know the rules!” she yelled. “You’re not even supposed to be in the bedroom while I’m in the bathroom.”

“I know. I’m only here to tell you about your birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t for two days. Get out!”

“Rhees.” His tone sounded stern, and it surprised her. She mentally ran through her day, wondering what she’d done. They’d been getting along so well, very well.

She poked her head around the curtain, careful not to expose herself to him. She gave him a bug-eyed look to get across how much she disapproved. He wore a brilliant smile, which confused her even more.

“Before you step into the water and groan miserably because of the cold, I wanted to tell you that for your birthday, I’m giving you a warm shower.”

“How are you going to do that?” Her mind ran through possibilities, but she couldn’t come up with a logical plan that wasn’t a little creepy.

“Well, if I tell you that, it’ll ruin the surprise. Duh.”

“You just told me what my present is. How is it a surprise?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He beamed as he leaned toward her and stole a quick kiss.

She yelped at the closeness. She felt so naked and exposed. She
was
naked!

oOo

“You’ll find the arrangements have been made, Sir,” the bellboy said as he opened the door to the hotel room

“Fine,” Paul said. “Thank you. We’ll manage without the orientation.” Paul slipped the man a generous tip and ushered Rhees inside the room. They had no luggage, only their backpacks, so the bellboy nodded and winked as Paul closed the door.
He thinks I’m in a hurry to get her into bed.
Paul almost laughed.

His body verged on calling a truce with abstinence, finally! It had been hard in the beginning, damn hard, but he’d made a decision, a promise to Rhees—a promise to himself. He wanted—needed—to change, and after almost six weeks, the fight had become easier—easier, not easy. He couldn’t afford to fool himself. She couldn’t afford for him to fool himself.

Sure, he liked teasing her, licking her because she hated it, sneaking in a kiss now and then, pushing her beyond her comfort zone, the way she pushed him. But he respected her, admired her goodness. There was more to it than just virtue, everything about her, her entire being screamed decency and innocence. He’d never known anyone like her.

Her temperament fascinated him. Her big heart forgave any offense. He’d witnessed her in situations where anyone else would walk away permanently offended—and justly so—but not Rhees. She held no grudges toward the other students at the shop who’d shunned her and treated her so harshly in the beginning. She’d forgiven
him
, the worst offender.

He didn’t think she even noticed their efforts to hurt her most of the time. He could only guess it had to do with the fact that her mind didn’t work that way, so she didn’t comprehend how theirs could.

On the other hand, he knew, even she had limits. Rhees was no pushover. She saw herself as one, but he knew better. She had teeth. Push her far enough and she knew how to bite.

The room looked like no hotel room Rhees had ever stayed in, all three times. A four-foot long counter with a sink took up the corner to the left of the entrance with a small fridge and a microwave. A round table sat nearby with a silver cloche on top. The sitting area spread straight ahead, with two red couches placed at an angle to each other, a red armchair in the right corner, with a black leather ottoman in the middle of the red furniture.

A large desk sat in front of two windows, set at an angle to each other and looking out over the city. To the right, French doors lay open, showing off the bed with a dark wooden headboard and a white comforter.

“This is not the average hotel room.” She looked accusingly at Paul.

“Looks pretty average to me.” He feigned sudden enlightenment. “Are you trying to tell me they have rooms more average than this?”

She didn’t dignify his response with an answer. 

“What’s the point of staying at a luxury hotel if we just wanted the same room we could get at any budget motel, a bed, maybe two, and a dinky bathroom?”

He added as an afterthought, “I’d go crazy in a room like that.”

She didn’t stop glaring and he pretended to be affronted. “Hey, I’m already slumming it for you here. This hotel is missing a star. I grew up believing anything less than five meant you’d go home with cockroaches, lice or bedbugs.”

“Seriously?” She believed it could be true.

“Almost.” He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I have issues with confinement—I need room to breathe. Come on. Let’s explore the other rooms.”

The bed she’d seen through the door turned out to be king-sized. To the right of the bedroom lay a large closet that lighted when the doors opened, and a bathroom.

“Darn. I’d hoped for a little nicer shower than this.” Paul opened the frosted door and looked inside.

“If the water heater works, this is the most luxurious shower I’ve seen in months.”

“You’re so easy to please.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head again.

The walls were done in creamy colors while rich dark wood and red accents decorated the entire suite, giving it a clean, sleek and refined look, but the comforter looked irresistible. As they strolled from the bathroom, at the end of their expedition, Rhees couldn’t help herself. She kicked her shoes off and took a flying leap onto the bed.

“Yep,” she said with a happy giggle. “Sumptuously soft and squishy.” Paul beamed at her delight. He followed her to the bed and offered his hand to help her up.

“You can sink into the downy quicksand later. I have a birthday present for you in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?” she sounded confused. “I thought we were here so I could have a warm shower for my birthday?”

“That too, but I have something else for you.” He pulled her back on her feet and toward the kitchen.

“Something else? Besides the shower and the plane tickets, and the hotel room that is average for you, but not for people like me?”

“You promised.” He exaggerated an annoyed glance.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to be grateful and appreciative here. I really am, but since I can’t say you’ve spent
way
too much money on me for my birthday, because you made me
promise
not to say that again . . .” Her lips pressed together to hide her grin at sneaking in a way to say it again without saying it, but her curiosity got the better of her when he moved to the large silver cloche and pulled out an ice bucket with a bottle of something chilling from behind. She only then realized the cloche didn’t come standard with the rooms.

“You know how you always say you wish you could order dessert first, because you’re always too full after dinner to enjoy it as much as you want to?” He lifted the cloche, revealing a plate full of desserts. “We have crème brulee, tiramisu, chocolate covered strawberries, and an incredibly,
ooey, gooey, caramelly goodness
, turtle cheesecake.” He pointed to each one in order, repeating her own words from an earlier conversation when he described the cheesecake. He often quoted her, word for word.

Rhees stood speechless, but he waited.

“This is
sooo
. . .” She stared at the plate, forever. Her eyes rose to meet his with awe.
“Romantic!”

Paul practically staggered, taken aback. In all his planning, he’d never once thought of it that way.

“Word of advice to my pretend boyfriend.” She gave him a sideways glance with a smirkish, but understanding, smile. “If you ever have a
real
girlfriend, and she tells you you’ve done something romantic, just roll with it, or at least, pretend to. You’ll score points.” She giggled.

He tried to smile, but his discomfort ruled. He didn’t know what to say. He’d only wanted to make her birthday special. He dodged his unease by rounding up plates, spoons, and wine glasses from the cupboards. He held the bottle up.

“Champagne.” He opened it and poured.

They ended up eating on one of the couches, each with their own plates. Rhees sat next to him, close, facing him, her legs draped over his lap, as her side leaned against the back of the sofa. He sat, turned slightly, facing her. She took a bite of a strawberry and swooned with delight.

“If this really was
romantic
. . .” He glanced at her to make sure she knew it was her word, not his. “I’d be feeding you the strawberries, but I know you wouldn’t really enjoy that—after I touched it.” He raised a mocking eyebrow at her.

“Ah.” She groaned, accepting her faults. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re really great at putting up with all my quirks. But, actually, I’ve kind of gotten used to your germs.” She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “I might even
like
them now, maybe.”

He didn’t believe her. He smiled skeptically as he looked at his plate to scoop up another bite. She set her plate down on the ottoman and took his face in her hands, gazing at him. He’d just filled his mouth, and he looked comical as he tried to keep his lips from gaping open and revealing the food inside while being completely caught off guard. 

She kissed him, which surprised him even more. He couldn’t tell her to stop as he struggled to keep his mouth closed and the dessert inside. He tried to swallow and get rid of it, afraid he’d gross her out. He wondered how she didn’t understand that was about to happen if she kept up what she was doing. 

Her tongue pushed past his lips and he almost gasped as she heartily explored the inside of his entire mouth. She pulled back and licked her lips with pleasure.

“Mmmm . . . delicious. You taste just like crème brulee.” She looked funny, as if holding a straight face for as long as she could. “You should see the look on your face,” she said, and then her head fell back in a burst of laughter.

He sat stunned, just staring, trying to understand what just happened. She finally recovered from her laughing fit. Her brow furrowed with concern.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” He glanced off toward the windows.

“Then, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, staring just off to the side of her, still not giving anything away. She’d confused him. He choked the next words out, barely. “Have you . . . changed your mind?”

“Yes.” Her smile lit her face.

His eyes grew wide, and he gulped in a breath, realizing he’d missed a few. He pursed his lips and nodded slightly, still thinking it over.

“I just showed you. Your germs don’t bother me anymore.”

He closed his eyes, kneading his lips against each other. “Okay,” he said slowly, understanding that she had no idea what he meant or what he thought she’d meant. A few seconds and a few more labored breaths later, he said, “Why don’t you go take your first hot shower? The goal is to try and squeeze in as many as you can before we have to go back.”

“What are you going to do while I’m in heaven?” she asked, smiling.

“Oh . . .” It came out breathy. He pursed his lips again and ran through a few more distortions. “I’ll find
something
to do. Take your time.”

She watched him for a few seconds.

“Paul?”

He took a deep breath. “Hmm?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Rhees, I brought you all the way to Utah because I promised I’d arrange for you to go shopping, and I thought you’d appreciate taking warm showers while we’re here.”

“I thought we were here because you need fresh gear for the shop so you can rotate out some of the worn-out stuff.”

“That too.” He smiled. “I originally thought if I ever met the person who sold you your gear, I’d give him an earful about upselling to newbies, taking advantage of their excitement about the sport, but after seeing how you swim, I want to thank him for making sure you have, possibly, the best fins ever made. And since your overly expensive gear may have saved your life, I’ve decided to reward him by spending a fortune on his merchandise and taking it back to the island.”

“You used my birthday as an excuse. You really just needed me to help you pack all that gear back home.”

Paul did a double take at her calling the island home. He watched her pretending to pout, and chuckled. He’d already explained the dual purpose for the trip. It would have been easier to buy everything in Texas, but Paul wanted an excuse to see where Rhees came from.

“We’re here for your birthday—number one reason. I swear.” He motioned a cross over his heart. “So go take advantage of my gift of a warm shower.”

“It is the sweetest birthday present anyone’s ever given me.” She looked up at him and sighed. “But Paul?”

She paused, staring at him with those warm brown eyes. “Remember when you said there were things we could do . . . that wouldn’t disrupt my relationship with my hymen?”

He closed his eyes tightly, wondering how they’d wound up going down this road. It made him uncomfortable. He needed time to think, change the topic. He reached for his glass and took a long drink.

“Would any of those things . . . help
you
? Right now? Because I can feel you against my leg. You’re always doing things for me. I—I want to do something for you.”

He had his glass to his mouth, but he suddenly shot forward. Champagne spurted from his mouth and nose. He choked on the portion that went down the wrong tube. Reflexively, he reached for his napkin and started wiping the wasted champagne off his face and clothes as best as he could, still coughing and gasping for air.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Rhees!” He almost knocked her to the floor when he jumped up off the couch. He darted to the kitchen to get more napkins—and to put some distance between them. “You can’t say things like that to me! It’s bad enough you just shared my crème brulee—from my mouth.
Gawd!
Dani Girl, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m a slow learner, I know, but I’ve picked up on a few things.” She bit her lower lip and watched him. “I’m just trying to say, I’m willing to help you with . . .
that
. I feel it’s the least I can do after everything you do for me.”