Affair on the Beach

He took her n****e between his teeth and tugged gently, eliciting the sweetest moan from her lips. He loved the way she sounded when he played her body like his guitar. She writhed beneath him, begging with her body for what only he could give her. He released her n****e and gazed up through his lashes into her lust-glazed eyes. Written on the lines of her face was her desire for him. He wasn’t sure if he was the one she craved or what his fingers could do to her body. He pushed his insecurities aside and smiled at her before he returned his attention to her lovely round breasts. He suckled one while massaging the other. She arched up her back and tangled her fingers into his hair, doing everything she could to keep him where he was. He freed one of her breasts so his hand could travel down her body toward— I winced, pulled away from the page I was reading by the bony elbow of my best friend digging into my side. I sighed in frustration and rolled my eyes toward the ceiling of the bus we’d been on for the past three hours. I snapped the book shut and pushed my thighs together in an attempt to ease the pulse that almost always came with reading the steamier moments of the kinds of books I found myself hopelessly addicted to. It was getting good between Duke and Ana too! Veronika always had the worst timing in the world. If she hadn’t taken me under her wing in college in exchange for tutoring in Econ 101, I would have dumped her ass a long time ago. I definitely wouldn’t be on a bus heading for God-knew-where on a vacation I was sure I wasn’t going to enjoy. We were heading for somewhere hot, the struggling air conditioning let me know. No matter how much I questioned Rony short of waterboarding her, she wouldn’t tell me where we were headed. Maybe I should have resorted to torture. Was it kidnapping if I’d known my kidnapper for years? Her elbow kept drilling its way into my ribcage, and despite my extra pounds, I didn’t have enough padding to ignore the pain it caused. So, just to get her to stop, I folded my hands over the book on my lap and faced her, making sure my exasperation was all over my face. “Don’t look at me like that, Ms. Tamara Winters!” Rony admonished, waving a perfectly manicured finger in my face. “You needed to get out of that bookstore for some R and R and you know it. Tell me I’m wrong.” I sighed, struggling not to roll my eyes at her, and said, “I suppose I should be thankful that you gave me more than two hours of uninterrupted reading time.” She was the one who had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. “You know I did more than that. Admit it. Aunt Nora was worried you were spending too much time at the store. You’re really close to becoming the next Unabomber, TW.” She flipped her lush brown hair with highlights over her shoulder. “To be honest, I’m doing the public a service by bringing you with me.” She sniffed me and I leaned away until my back touched the window. “You’re even starting to smell like all those books you keep hanging out with.” I stared at Veronika Flynn, olive-skinned goddess. She was all breasts and long legs in her shorts and tank top. She woke up in the mornings looking like a group of fairies kept her beautiful all night. She could close a club with the best of them, and it didn’t hurt that she was the daughter of the president of Flynn Resorts. According to Rony, when half a bottle of tequila had loosened her tongue enough to talk about the family business, they owned the biggest, best resorts all over the world. I didn’t even understand what she saw in me as a friend. I was a size fourteen on my best day, forever rocking the double digits. My hair was a dark, dull brown that was unmanageable on most days and my eyes were a plain hazel, no specks of green or anything like that. While she picked up men in bars, I met them in the pages of a book. I was pretty sure she had shinier, skinnier friends to hang out with who liked partying as much as she did. In the years we’d known each other, Rony never gave me a straight answer when I asked her why we were friends. Even drunk, she’d managed to evade the question. It reached a point where I’d stopped asking all together since she was never forthcoming with her answer. I may have given up, but it didn’t mean I stopped thinking the question. Maybe I should consider myself lucky I had a friend like Rony. I shrugged. Well, I guess our friendship now depended on where the hell she was taking me. We’d left the city hours ago. And as a born and bred city girl, I was getting anxious. “Are you listening to me?” Rony’s clipped question pulled my focus back to our conversation. I blinked. “She’s not your aunt.” “She might as well be my aunt from all those afternoons we hung out together talking about you.” “You were talking about me? Since when?” Defensive Tamara reared her less than pretty head. But I refused to cross my arms, so I clutched the book I’d been reading instead. Rony’s face softened. “It’s not what you think, TW.” She huffed and leaned back on her seat. “Aunt Nora is worried about you. You’re what, twenty-eight—” “Twenty-nine,” I interrupted. How could she have forgotten my birthday already? I kept my eyes on the wrapping paper I used to cover the books I read to keep the public from knowing I loved trashy romance novels. From contemporary to paranormal to historical to erotica, name the genre and I’d devoured it in one sitting. On a good day, I could finish three books: One in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one at night. Rony gave me a sidelong glance. “Worse. All you do all day is read romance novels.” I gasped and looked at her, my horror surely in my hazel eyes. “No use denying it.” She tapped the book I held like a lifeline. “You may hide it from view, but I know you read romances.” I tucked a stray strand of my dull brown hair behind my ear. “Everyone has to have their guilty pleasure, Rony. So what if romance novels are mine?” “That’s not what I’m saying,” she said, changing her tone from confrontational to something calmer. “Nora and I don’t mind that you read those things, it’s just that you spend so much time between the pages of a book that you’re missing out on what living has to offer.” I faced the back of the seat in front of me and focused on the balled spot of the man seated there. “I’m happy this way, Rony. And I don’t appreciate you or Aunt Nora trying to change me just because you’re worried I’m not living my life. Didn’t it ever occur to you that I’m enjoying myself?” “What does a book give you that a real man can’t?” Rony challenged. She was in debate mode. Normally, I would have changed the subject to avoid the coming confrontation, but her below the belt blow couldn’t go unanswered. Frankly, I was tired of Rony and Aunt Nora meddling in my life. They kept setting me up every chance they got. Aunt Nora even went so far as forcing me to man the counter every time a guy stepped into Winter Books. “Rony, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need a real man.” I lifted the book. “Take Duke, for example.” “Duke?” Rony raised a disbelieving eyebrow at me. I leafed through the book. “Yes. He’s a guitarist for this band. He’s rebellious yet kind. He can be stern, but he has his sweet moments. He’s as sexy as hell and certainly knows his way around the bedroom. Why would I pass that up for someone real yet subpar?” Rony stared at me for a second before she laughed. Grabbing her arm, I pulled as hard as I could. “Ow!” She tugged her arm away and rubbed it. “Everyone is staring,” I said between my teeth. A flush burned its way across my face. “It’s not that funny!” Rony sputtered but managed not to start another laughing fit. A smile tugged at the corners of her bow-shaped lips. God, how unfair was the universe that someone was created with the best combination of features to be considered drop dead gorgeous? Rony could do no wrong in the looks department, and here I was, friends with her. Would it be too much of a stretch that I would rather spend my time lost in a book? Granted, the storylines tended to get repetitive after a while, but that never stopped me. “TW, how can you say that when you don’t even know what an actual guy can do in bed?” The heat of my blush intensified tenfold. “I’ve seen s*x and the City, Rony. I know a thing or too.” Rony shook her head. “Tam, reading about s*x and watching it on TV isn’t the same thing as actually getting down and dirty with an actual guy. You’d be surprised at how talented some of them can be.” “Oh, really?” I raised a recently-plucked eyebrow at her. “How many guys have you dated?” “Enough.” “Give me a rough estimate,” I pressed. “Twenty.” I could see from Rony’s expression that she was shaving off a few more from her number, but I didn’t care. I had enough to make my point. “And how many of those men actually brought you to orgasm?” This time, it was Rony’s turn to blush. I may be a virgin, but I wasn’t afraid of talking about s*x. That was the weird thing about Rony. She may be a party girl. She may possess the confidence of a beauty queen, but when it came to s*x, she folded like a bad hand at poker. It took her a couple of minutes to respond. I liked bringing Speechless Veronika out. It was rare, but always a sight to behold. Bookworm Tamara likey. “At least I’ve had a real orgasm,” she said under her breath. “You haven’t even been kissed.” I was ready to argue, but she cut me off. “Me teaching you that one time doesn’t count.” Seeing the conversation had hit a dead end, I resettled myself on my increasingly uncomfortable bus seat and opened my book to where I left Ana off with Duke. Rony took the book from me and snapped it shut just as the bus glided to a stop. “No need for that,” she said, standing from her seat and slinging her ridiculously expensive bag over her shoulder. “We’re here.” I stared out the opposite window from where I sat. In between people blocking the view as they shuffled to the door, I watched crystal-blue waves crash onto white sand. The bus stop was about fifty yards from the beach! No wonder Rony insisted I wear something summery. I couldn’t even remember the last time I was on a beach soaking up the sun. No, wait. I did remember. It was precisely thirty pounds ago. “Are you coming or not?” Rony asked from the front of the bus. A quick glance around said I was the last one in my seat. Even the driver had gotten off to help the passengers with their bags. I yanked my bag out from beneath my seat and scrambled my way to Rony, my caftan unfurling around me in a mass of fabric. She looked too pleased with herself for her own good. I adjusted my pale green, floor-length caftan as I went. She frowned at me. “TW, didn’t you ever think that less is more at the beach?” I frowned back at her. “Since you didn’t want to tell me where we were going, this was the best I could do.” “Jeans and a T-shirt would have been fine too.” She hopped onto the blacktop. “You said something summery!” I hopped to her side and followed her to where the driver was reaching into the bowels of the beast to produce our luggage. Rony grabbed her Louis Vuitton and proceeded to the covered walk on the other side of the bus. My exasperation came out as a sigh while I procured my rollaway bag from the increasingly sweaty driver. Damn it was hot! And trust my best friend to take the bus when her luggage was more expensive than the actual ticket. Yet another one of her many contradictions. Veronika Flynn, the queen of irony. I reached her side and stopped abruptly. My rollaway dropped to the floor in a clatter. Rony was engulfed by the most chiselled arms I’d ever seen in person. “Hey, sis!” the man said as he released her from his bear hug. Rony faced me, all flushed and wild-eyed, and said, “Tamara Winters, this is Hudson Flynn, my twin brother.” I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Rony’s twin? Rony had a twin? I thought we were best friends? Not once did she tell me she had a twin brother. My shock came mostly from the hurt of not knowing rather than having to stare at the male version of Rony. Except for being a couple of inches taller and much more muscular, he had the same brown hair, cut short and sans highlights. His skin had the same olive tone only slightly darker from sun exposure. He had the same molten caramel eyes too. And he made a Hawaiian shirt, khaki cut offs, and flip flops look hot. The worst part? He pulled me into the same hug he treated Rony to. His toothy grin never faltering. “It’s good to finally meet you, Tamara,” he said, his voice smooth like jazz. “Rony’s told me a lot about you.” My heart stopped beating the entire time I was in his arms, my eyes feeling like they would pop out of their sockets. “Put her down, Hudson. TW isn’t used to men manhandling her.” His deep laughter caused his chest to rub against mine. If I thought his arms were chiseled, his chest felt as solid as a brick wall. I’d only encountered men like Rony’s brother in my romance novels. My interactions with the male species consisted of pasty-faced guys and uptight business types. Not ones who were sun-kissed and kept their bodies in awesome shape. I blinked at him when he returned me to my feet. “Are you for real?” I said. Rony laughed so hard she ended up hugging herself and sitting on her hunches while her Adonis of a bother scratched the back of his head, not quite sure how to answer my question. When Rony finally recovered from her second laughing fit, courtesy of me, she stood up and tapped her brother’s shoulder. “Don’t mind her. She loves reading romance novels.” The blush I thought I’d recovered from returned. “Rony! You can’t tell your brother that about me.” “Please, call me Hudson.” He took Rony’s Vuitton and picked up the handle of my roller and winked at me. “I read some of them myself. Very instructional.” I didn’t know I could grow any redder than I felt at that moment. I’d heard of guys reading romance novels. Heck, I’d encountered some at the bookstore looking for specific titles in the guise of buying it for their wives or girlfriends. I always thought it was cute, but none of them looked the way Rony’s—Hudson did. He led the way, saying something about bringing our bags back to his house before going to the Shore Shack. I sidled closer to Rony and whispered, “Is your brother gay?” The look of horror on her symmetric features answered my question before she did. “Of course not! He just likes to read. Anything and everything. But notice that he still gets out and enjoys the outside world.” I had to hand it to Rony. She could turn anything into a lesson on how I should get out more. I pouted. She meant well, but couldn’t she leave me alone? If I wanted to spend my time with a book, how bad could that be? Speaking of which… “Where’s my book?” I asked her when we left the shade of the bus stop pergola. She fished out her aviators and put them on while I unfolded my large straw hat and jammed it on my head. “That thing? I tossed it,” she said without missing a step. I teetered on my wedges when pavement made way to sand. “You what?” I was incredulous. “I hadn’t even gotten to the part where Ana admits she loves Duke for himself and not for what his fingers could do to her body!” I didn’t realize I’d spoken too loud until Hudson chuckled and gave me a look from over his shoulder. I switched to my inside voice. “And why didn’t you tell me you had a twin?” Unfazed, Rony shrugged. “It never came up.” “That’s a lousy reason.” “It’s not like you ever asked if I had any siblings, Tamara.” I hated it when Rony used my whole name instead of my initials. When she first started using my initials as a nickname, I was annoyed. But when I realized it was her way of showing affection and she used my whole name when she was upset, I didn’t mind as much. Especially now, when clearly she didn’t like the fact that I didn’t know she had a brother. A twin. “I’m sorry,” I said. I snaked my arms around hers not only to keep myself from falling over but also to gage how annoyed she was at me. If she pulled away, I was in deep trouble. She didn’t. My life was spared for the time being. “It’s because you spend so much time reading, TW,” she said, clearly exasperated, but since she used my initials again I relaxed a bit. “If you pulled your nose out of a book half the time you spend in it then maybe you would know that we’re here to help my brother out at the Shore Shack. This isn’t just a vacation. His regular servers left all of a sudden, and it’s the busy season, so he needed me and I said yes.” “Dragging me along.” She glanced at me, her classy sunglasses hiding her feelings. Only the hard line her lips made betrayed any emotion. “Yes, I dragged you with me. You’re going to help me, and you’re going to enjoy it or so help me God I will toss the rest of the books you have in your bag into the ocean.” Her answering smile was scarier than her previous expression. She knew me too well. From the looks of where we were, I might not have access to a bookstore to replenish my supply. “Okay, okay. I’ll help,” I said. “Where are we, anyway?” Hudson answered the question for me. “Welcome to Maverick Bay, Tamara.” He opened the door to his beach front house and pointed at the large deck separated by a spacious living room from the entrance. I gasped. The blue ocean and sky stretched out into infinity. I’d only imagined something like it in one of the books I’d read where the hero and heroine were stranded on a semi-deserted island. Before Rony and I could enter, Hudson deposited our bags inside and closed the door again. “You’ll have time to tour the house later. And Carmela will bring your bags to your rooms. Come, I want to show you guys the Shore Shack.” With a jaunty step, he moved away from his house back toward the street. Since Rony disentangled herself from my hold to catch up with her brother, I preoccupied myself with my surroundings. Hudson’s house was one in a long line facing the beach. Most of them were white with large glass windows to better take in the fantastic views. If I were a house here, I would want big windows too. They had small lawns in front and wooden decks and balconies at the back that had stairs landing on the sand. Everyone in Maverick Bay were literally steps away from the beach. If I were a beach person, I would live here too. As I neared the twins—I still couldn’t wrap my head around Rony having a twin—I caught the last half of what Hudson was saying. “Maverick Bay is a small town. Everything is pretty much walking distance.” He gave me a smile when I finally walked side by side with Rony. “If there’s anything you might need, just let me know and I’ll tell you where to go. We’re a sleepy town until the two weeks leading up to the Maverick Invitational, which is this weekend.” “The Maverick Invitational?” Rony was the one who answered. “Only one of the most exclusive surfing competitions in the world.” “About a month in a year, Maverick Bay produces the wickedest swells in the world. Prime surfing spot. It’s the biggest draw in this town. One year, we had a perfect thirty footer with a mile long pipeline. Nobody thought a wave like that was possible until they road it here on Maverick,” Hudson added proudly like he was personally responsible for the wave he was describing. I breathed in the salty air as a breeze touched my cheeks. The weather was hot, but tolerable. I didn’t miss the air conditioning of the bus. From the looks of it, I was a tad over dressed in my caftan. If the women weren’t in shorts and tanks like Rony, they were in bikinis smaller than my face towel. Well, with bodies like theirs—all tanned and toned—I wouldn’t mind wearing a bikini either. The guys sported the same clothes Hudson did with the exception of several topless hunks. In fact, it looked like everyone was fit, not an overweight soul in my immediate vicinity. I gaped now. Was this what living near the beach meant? I shook my head in disbelief. I was definitely living in the wrong place then. As we neared a wooden building open on three sides with tables in and around it and a bar on one side, which I assumed was the Shore Shack, I froze in my tracks and faced the beach. From where I stood, I saw the crescent moon shape of the bay. It was breathtaking with its rocky shoal on one side and cliff at the other. I noticed then that the beach actually descended into the sea instead of remaining level with it, giving Maverick Bay the appearance of a shovel. I loved it already! A prime place to pitch a large umbrella, set up a beach chair, and start reading—frilly cocktail optional. Although, I always wondered what s*x on the beach—the drink—tasted like. I dropped my gaze at my sandy toes, my wedges useless, to hide my creeping blush. When I looked up again, my jaw dropped and my heart sputtered. From the clear blue waters rose the most handsome specimen of mankind I’d ever seen. I closed my mouth, intending to look away, but I couldn’t. The tan god shook water out of his ash blond hair and ran his fingers through the wet strands that framed a sculpted face only a master artist could achieve on marble. Despite his efforts, strands still fell across his forehead while the rest curled down his neck. My tongue stuck to the roof of my now dry mouth as I watched him wade to shore. He had a classic body worthy of worship: broad shoulders that tapered down to—I counted—a six pack I could get drunk on, ending at slim hips. And he was a natural blond according to the dusting of hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath the band of his white boardshorts that hung low on his hips. I never thought I’d ever want to lick someone dry before, but the man walking toward me came close. Wait… I gasped, finally remembering to breathe. My lungs on fire. Then the disturbing though hit me: Why was he walking toward me? As he came closer, I could finally make out the necklace he wore made of crushed white shells, the kind someone could buy at any beach front souvenir shop. It looked cheesy on mortals, but on a god like him, it was nothing less than hot. In the noonday sun, his eyes burned a blue similar to the ocean he just came out off. “Xavier,” Hudson said. When did Rony’s brother reach my side? I wondered, never taking my gaze from the very tall, very tan, very muscular god before me. Where do I worship thee? The thought came with a blush, the heat of which I felt all the way to the apex between my thighs. I’d read about men who were s*x on two legs before, but to actually be in the presence of one was unreal. If he touched me now, I was sure to self-combust. “Hudson,” the god said in a voice so deep it felt like an intimate caress on my skin. Not once did he take his true blue eyes off me. Oh, I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. “Who is this?” he asked. I winced because of the elbow colliding with my side. Still, as if by some great force keeping them there, my eyes remained locked with his. I looked up at him now since he towered over me. What six, no, more than that, feet tall. I was five five without heels, and in my four inch wedges, I felt so much taller, yet my chin only came up to his delectable shoulders. What would it be like to bite into them like prime rib? And those biceps…I lost my train of thought. “TW?” Rony’s voice, I was sure of it, but I might as well be alone with the god. How could my mouth be dry and water at the same time? I swallowed. It didn’t seem possible, but I was clearly going through it. Distantly, I heard Hudson make introductions. “Xavier Solomon, you remember my sister Veronika, and this is her friend Tamara Winters.” The god smiled cordially at Rony before he returned his attention to me. It felt like staring too long at the sun, but I didn’t want to blink because he might disappear. And that was the last thing I wanted. Irrational, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. Only fictional characters matched what was currently standing before me. “Nice to meet you, Tamara Winters.” He reached out for my hand. A dizzy spell had my eyes rolling into the back of my head while my legs collapsed from underneath me.