Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Oh, look. A promising swell.
I follow Carter’s instructions to a tee, and in moments I’ve hit the sweet spot and am on my feet, board sweet under me. I’m a hot pink sight to behold. The rush makes me dizzy. Like the world is tipping upside down, like there are stars, like I’m—
Under water. I’m nineteen all over again. A mighty wave is pushing me down, a vicious current threatening to pull me out to the deep blue. If I ever make it to the surface—
An arm tightens around my chest and Damon hauls me out of the water. He doesn’t let me walk, though I’m absolutely capable. He has me in his arms as he wades onto the beach. The lines of his face are grim in the glare of overcast light and water droplets sluice over his jaw, drip from his chin onto my stomach.
He sets me on the sand and I swipe the wet curls out of my eyes. The packed sand is firm under me, but Damon crawling over me and pinning my arms above my head is firmer. “What,” he says with a quiet deepness that has me shivering, “do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t think this is the way you do CPR.”
He settles all his weight on me. His hazel eyes are dazzling and dangerous. Any hope he’d found my show alluring—um, or even somewhat moving—vanishes.
I gasp. “You really are taking my breath away.”
He leans closer. “Good.”
Our gazes are locked and Damon’s is demanding an explanation. “You like surfing.”
“I do.”
“I thought you’d like me surfing.”
His eyes narrow, falling on my mouth, like I must be careful exactly how I next respond. “Do you like surfing?”
“I prefer watching you do it.”
“I prefer that too.”
I push my wrists up against his hold, but he keeps me right there, locked under him. He hasn’t finished with me yet, and I’m not fighting it with any notable enthusiasm. “So, nothing about that you found, um, intriguing? That you fancied?”
“The only thing I fancy is you.” His eyes are hard on mine, and at my deflated sigh, they soften. He unlocks one of my wrists to run a finger over the fabric of my wetsuit. “I also fancy this.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank God, really. ’Cause I don’t plan on a repeat performance.”
“I know why you gave me this one.”
Heat throttles up my throat. I mean, of course he’d see through it. He’s been witness to all my previous attempts at becoming another guy’s dream match.
“A part of me is extremely flattered you’d go to such lengths, but a bigger part of me wants to shake you.”
Because I could have been seriously hurt? I’m a little flattered myself. “I didn’t want you to give up on this fake thing before it came to fruition.”
“Past tense?”
“I don’t want you to give up on this.”
“Trust me.” His lips graze over mine, drag against the soft skin at my neck, and linger at my ear. “I won’t give up.”
I shudder under him, every inch of me singing for another ghostly touch at my neck. His eyes meet mine, and he dips his mouth to my throat and skates his tongue along the curve of skin above my wetsuit.
I shove his chest and he lets me roll atop him.
His smile is a little smug as his gaze scrolls down my wetsuit, which doesn’t hide a thing.
“Seriously? It’s a”—I glance around—“moderately busy beach.”
“I don’t care.”
“Your break is over.”
“Blake won’t mind—”
I kiss him and he loosens his hold on my hips in surprise. I lock my tongue around his and when he groans, rip myself from his distracted arms.
He laughs and lets me escape. In a flash of hot pink, I bolt for my bach.
I hide until it’s time for bingo, then make my way to the town hall and a lively crowd, many of whom I know well now from self-defence.
Mar spots me and with the flick of her shawl over her shoulder, canes her way over, quick and to-the-point. “Damon called, he’s running behind. He asked me to set up, but I’m having trouble locating the gear? He said you brought it by?”
I nod and lead her to the table where I stashed the cage of balls and the mats—
A barren table stares back at me. My tummy does a wee lurch and I drop to my knees to check under it in case . . . I don’t know, there was an earthquake I didn’t feel and the stuff tumbled to the floor?
Ahhhh. Where is the gear?
Mar murmurs, “We’ve got a whole bunch of giggling gals to keep happy.”
I look up at her from my hands and knees. I’m not worried about the gigglers. I’m worried about making a fool of myself in front of Damon twice in a single day!
“I’ll fix this. Tell the gals to think hard about what dirty things they want Damon and me to tend to.”