endearingly old-fashioned. Enough that he’d asked outright if she was a virgin. She’d gotten all flustered as she’d insisted she wasn’t. He grinned as he remembered her blush. She’d been ready to run from him. With soft kisses and gentle words he’d convinced her to stay.
He’d always been good at that kind of persuasion, good with women, period. Even in high school, he’d had the touch. He’d been with college girls, which hadn’t made him too popular with the guys in school. Luckily, he’d always been a loner, shying away from the beaten path or the mundane. His sister had always said his propensity to become bored would be his downfall.
He wasn’t bored with Lindsey. She’d blown him away that night with her quiet conviction, her unshakable vision of her future. The long blond hair and small perfect breasts hadn’t hurt, but there was more to it than that. She’d surprised him, first with her innocence, then with her strength. Even tonight, though they’d barely been together a few hours, she had his complete attention.
She shifted again, and he loosened his hold so that she could stretch her legs out in front of her. He smiled when she took his arms and pulled them back in place. This time, with her knees out of the way, his arms fit nicely crossed just below her breasts.
He tried using his chin to push the hair away from her neck, and when that didn’t work, she got the hint and draped the thick locks over the front of her shoulder. With better access to her neck, he kissed the side, then bit at her earlobe. She giggled and squirmed.
“I thought you liked that,” he whispered.
“I do, but it still tickles.”
“And this?” He lightly dragged the tip of his tongue around the shell of her ear.
She squirmed more, the proximity of her cute little ass to his cock sheer torture. He moved one of his arms until it grazed the underside of her breasts. He knew the second she’d sucked in a breath. Slowly she let it out.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, “and peaceful.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.”
She turned her head to look toward Waikiki, and he studied her profile, admiring the way her full lower lip jutted slightly. Her lashes were thick, and he could tell that she’d tried to artificially darken her eyebrows with makeup. But overall she was light on the cosmetics, which suited him. He liked the more natural look.
“I don’t see anyone headed this way,” she said.
“We’re safe. No waves so the local surfing crowd won’t be showing up, and it’s dinnertime for everyone else.”
“What do you mean no waves?”
“That?” He followed her gaze to the small swells that quickly lost momentum before the break. “Those aren’t waves. Not even a self-respecting bodysurfer would waste his time on those ripples.”
Lindsey grinned. “Well, aren’t we cocky?”
“Wait until we get to the other side of the island, you’ll see what I mean. Too bad you weren’t here in December and January when the big waves hit.”
“Were you already surfing when we first met?”
“For a couple of years, mostly on weekends. I lived near Hermosa Beach in Southern California while going to school.”
“You never mentioned it—surfing, I mean.”
“I believe we had better things to do.” Rick nuzzled her neck, and murmured against her skin, “Like now.”
She made a small mewing sound and leaned back, running her palm over his forearms. She had small hands, tiny wrists. Her skin was pale against his. He had to make sure she took care not to burn in the midday sun.
He moved his hand and cupped her left breast through her tank top. She didn’t stiffen as he’d suspected she might, but only sighed. Damn, he wished they were back at his place. Within twenty minutes it would be dark except for the half moon. He had no problem stripping down right here, but he knew she would. And he wanted to see her in the worst way.
He abandoned her breast, moved his hand down. When he slipped it underneath her top, she tensed. But she let him stroke the soft skin over her rib cage, and she even turned her head so that her eyelashes fluttered against his temple. He found her bra, and released the front clasp, then covered her mouth with his.
HER NIPPLES WERE ALREADY beaded and hard, but the shock of the first touch jolted her, making her tear away from his kiss and scan the beach. Murmuring a reassurance, he used his free hand to bring her mouth back to his. She didn’t resist. She felt too weak and hot and hopelessly needy. The touch of his roughened fingers against her sensitive nipple made her quiver, and a whimper escaped from her lips into his mouth.
She was a mess, an utter and complete mess, and he’d barely touched her. She had to slow him down. Slow down her own growing desire to touch him, to feel the hard contour of his muscled arms and chest against her skin. It was too light out. Anyone could walk up and surprise them. That would ruin everything.
Lindsey broke from him again, evading his hand when he tried to pull her back. “Rick.”
He palmed her breast, whispered something she didn’t understand, his warm breath skimming her ear.
Her eyes drifted closed, only for an instant, and he lightly pinched her nipple. “Rick. No.”
Before the word was fully formed, he’d stopped. His hand slid out from under her top. “Lindsey, I’m sorry,” he said, the remorse in his voice thick.
“Oh, wait.” Leaving the comfort of his arms, she twisted around to see him. He looked devastated. “That wasn’t a don’t-ever-do-that-again no,” she said, briefly touching his face. “It was more a I’m-a-big-fat-chicken no because it’s too light out.”
A relieved smile totally transformed his expression.
She laughed softly. “I like you touching me,” she whispered, and watched his expression change again.
His nostrils flared, his jaw tightened. “Good.” His heated gaze went briefly to her breasts before lifting to meet her eyes. “I plan on doing a lot of that.”
She tried to control the shiver that rattled her insides, shook the starch out of her spine. But it was too late. She only hoped her voice wouldn’t fail her. “We should eat. Before it’s too dark.”
He ran his hand up her arm. “Your bra,” he said, keeping his eyes level with hers.
“My bra?” She frowned, glanced down at her chest. Her unbound breasts. Her aroused nipples. “Oh.” She reached under her tank top and fumbled with the clasp.
“You’re killing me,” he said with a shaky laugh, and pushed off the mat, getting to his feet in a flash. “Cola or beer?” he asked, without looking at her.
“Cola.” She finished fastening the clasp, in spite of her unsteady fingers, and wondered if it would be fair to ask him to take off his shirt.
She supposed she had a normal sexual appetite typical for a woman her age, but she never obsessed over a man’s body like she’d been
