“I can’t wait to take that off you,” I whispered into her ear.
She gave me a half smile.
“Sex or surfing, Sebastian?”
“Sex,” I said at once. No brainer.
Her cheeks pinked up, but then she laughed and shook her head.
“Well, you’ll have to take a rain check—we haven’t booked that room for the night yet. And I’ve warned you what will happen if you get arrested.”
“You owe me a lot of rain checks, Caro. I’m going to enjoy cashing them in.”
Giving her a look that told her I always collected a debt, I yanked off my t-shirt, enjoying the way her eyes tracked across my chest and stomach, then I dropped my jeans and briefs, standing buck naked in the sunshine.
“Sebastian!” she hissed, glancing around to see if anyone was watching—but not before she’d taken a long look herself. Oh yeah, my woman loved to look.
But I’d already pulled on my boardshorts by the time her eyes flicked back to me. I laughed at her surprised expression.
“Years of practice changing out of my wetsuit in windswept parking lots along Sunset Cliffs, Caro,” I explained. “I’ll show you how quick I can get out of my clothes now if you like?”
I wasn’t joking and she knew it.
“Go. Surf,” she commanded.
I pulled off my dog tags and placed them around her neck, and fuck me if it wasn’t the biggest turn on, the way they nestled between her breasts.
“Here—look after these for me.” I took a deep breath and dragged my eyes up to meet hers. “Those look hot on you, Caro. Really fucking hot.”
She fingered the small pieces of metal, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. That finished me, so I pulled her into my arms, kissing her thoroughly, dipping her so low her hair brushed across the sand. Then I stood her back on her feet, holding on until she stopped swaying. She shook her head in amusement, but I didn’t miss her slight breathlessness or the heat in her eyes.
I winked at her, scooped up the rented board and jogged down to the water’s edge.
The ocean had always been my safe place—away from my parents, away from school, or work, or whatever was weighing on my mind. When I was 17 and Caro came back into my life, the beach became our place, away from prying eyes and the judgment of the world. And when she left me, the ocean was the place I came to remember and to forget. Catching waves, being one with the water, whatever bullshit reason you wanted to make up, the ocean gave me peace, because when you’re catching a wave, you don’t have the time or space to think of anything else. In that sense, it’s a bit like sex. Fuck knows what Freud would have said if he met me.
When Fido was killed by an IED, I’d been in the south of Iraq and couldn’t get home for his repatriation and funeral. So on my next leave, I’d organized a paddle-out with a few of my buddies and the guys who’d known him. He’d have liked that.
Today was the first chance I’d had to surf in over a year. I’d missed it. Being in a dump like Afghanistan, surrounded by nothing but deserts and death, Stone Age villages, and women hidden away, the ocean seemed like a dream from another world.
I surfed for an hour, reveling in the freedom, the salt spray in my face and the sun on my body. Every now and then I’d look back at the beach, checking on my girl, watching her relax in the sunshine.
But the next time I glanced over, some fucker was hitting on her. I caught the first wave back to the beach and jogged across the hot sand.
By then, the asswipe had disappeared in the other direction, so I assumed Caro had given him his marching orders. The amused expression on her face told me the rest.
“What did he want?” I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice neutral.
“Don’t blame me, Hunter,” she said, raising one eyebrow, “You’re the one who bought this itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini for me. Anyway, I told him my boyfriend was surfing, so you don’t need to worry.”
Not fucking acceptable. Fucker should have stuck around to get his face rearranged.
“Did you have fun?” she asked, and I knew she was trying to distract me from homicidal thoughts of any other guy touching my woman.
“Yeah, not bad. Got some good rides.”
“I know, I was watching,” she said, pointing to the camera, “I got some great shots, too.”
“Really? I’ve never seen any pictures of me surfing.”
I sat down on the towel next to her and scrolled through the photos she’d taken. I was impressed, both by the way she’d framed the shots and the quality of the images. I knew her camera was expensive, but these photos were good enough to make it into Surfer magazine.
“Wow! You’re a really great photographer, Caro.”
“I have excellent subject material,” she smiled, then snapped a close-up of me.
“What’s that for?”
“Just so I know you’re real. I think you’re a figment of my overwrought imagination, and you might disappear when I wake up. But now,” she said, waving the camera at me, “I have proof.”
I grinned, loving the current easiness between us.
I pressed her back into the beach towel with my body, kissing her the way I wanted to with no apology. She ran her fingers over my damp hair and smiled up at me.
“You’re cute when you’re wet,” she smiled.
“So are you,” I teased.
We ate our lunch on the beach, some bread and fruit sold by a kid under a sunshade. I felt deeply relaxed. Even the shadow of imminent deployment couldn’t dampen my good mood. I even fell asleep in the sun, something I never normally did.
When I woke up, I wanted to head out for a final surf. The guy in the rental shop said that the air pressure was rising and that tomorrow the sea would be flat. And there was something else I wanted to do; I wanted Caro to ride the board with me—tandem surfing—something I hadn’t done since the last time we’d been together.
“Come on, Caro, I’ve wanted to try this for a long time. Let’s take the board out and catch a wave together. I’ll do the paddling and I can stare at your gorgeous ass while I’m doing it.”
I pulled her to her feet and she tried to adjust her bikini top so her beautiful tits didn’t spill out. God, I loved that bikini.
Once in the water, Caro lay on the board first, and I jumped on behind her. I couldn’t resist giving her ass a quick bite.
She squeaked and tried to slap my arm. Too fucking cute.
We paddled out to just behind where the waves were breaking, then as the water started to rise, I turned the board around and we began to speed down the front of the wave.
“Get ready to pop up!” I yelled. “Go!”
She scrambled to her feet and the board wobbled slightly so I had to make some minor balance adjustments before I popped up, one hand steadying her hip as we raced down the face of the wave.
It was the best feeling—pure joy with no bullshit, no one else but us.
When we caught the last wave back in, Caro’s skin was cool to the touch and she was shivering slightly.
“Your nipples are hard,” I remarked, studying them carefully.
“Well, what a shocker,” she snarked. “I’ve never seen them like that before.”
“Is that right?” I said, raising my eyebrow. “I’ll see what I can do about it later.”
“Promises, promises,” she sighed.
What the fuck? I didn’t care if it was a joke—that was what I’d call a challenge.
“Bed, woman. Now.”
Caro’s eyes grew really big and she bit her lip.
“Don’t you want to find somewhere to have dinner first?”
Hell, no. I shook my head, my eyes raking up and down her body, hypnotized by the way droplets of seawater rolled into the amazing valley between her tits.
I tugged her along the beach to the shop, only slightly repentant that she was having to jog to keep up, but she didn’t complain. We got the key to our room quickly, but when the owner wanted to talk surfing and whether San Diego or Monterey had the better break, I was grinding my teeth with frustration. I wanted to tell him to take a hike, but seeing as he’d cut us as a deal on the room, I didn’t want to piss him off.