Surfer Sailor Lover Spy--Maui

by Gina Robinson

  She arched a brow as she slid Ty’s open shirt off his shoulders and it fell with a whisper at his feet. “What are you going to do now, big boy? Let a simple sundress defeat you?”

  He growled deep in his throat, a sexual purr like a big cat as he grabbed the center of the bodice of her dress and ripped it in two, exposing her breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

  “Impressive.” She reached for his cargo shorts and unzipped the fly, leaving it ambiguous whether she referred to his brute strength or the bulge in his shorts.

  They locked lips in a hard, deep kiss as she pushed his shorts off over his hips. He stepped out of them and sucked her nipples until she moaned as he slid the remains of her dress off. He threw back the covers of the bed, picked her up, and laid her back on the luxurious softness.

  She pulled him down on top of her, running her hands through his hair, and kissing his shoulders and neck.

  He ran his hands lightly over her breasts, stomach, and inner thighs, until she arched up against his hands, begging him to touch her, really touch her.

  She slid off his boxers and stroked his erection. He moaned and looped one finger beneath the waistband of her thin, thong panties and slid them off her hips, pressing his palm against the hair between her legs as he did. Driving her wild with the pressure and the tease as he played between her legs with his thumb.

  As she kicked her thong away, she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. Above her the fan twirled, creating a pleasant breeze that blew the tassels of the pillows at her head. It was probably just that.

  Ty pulled her to him.

  She arched up to meet him, wrapping her arms and legs around his waist, ready, so ready for him. “Give it to me hard and deep, baby.”

  “I love it when you beg.” He slid in with a thrust that took her breath away, thrusting deep inside her until she felt as if the surf pounded within.

  She gasped, on the edge of a crashing wave.

  A tassel brushed her arm. She moved, trying to knock it away.

  Ty thrust again, deep, deep inside her.

  The tassel brushed against her again, distracting her from the fabulous climax building in her. She had to get rid of that darned tassel. She opened her eyes, ready to find the offender and knock it away. Only—

  That isn’t a tassel. It’s a big old—

  She screamed. And not the desired scream of ecstasy.

  Ty pulled away and back and out. He ran for his shorts and patted around looking for his gun. “Damn! Where is it?”

  “There, there, there!” Treflee was hysterical now as she bounded out of the bed and pointed to the largest, creepiest, ugliest insect she had ever seen. And just moments ago it had been cuddling up to her.

  “Where? What is it?” Ty scanned the room, posing naked in his warrior stance, ready to use his martial arts training on anyone who came near.

  The cockroach, however, was completely unworried and unafraid. It wiggled its long antennae and bobbed its big black head as if laughing.

  “A cockroach!” Treflee pointed and screamed. “On the bed. There!”

  Ty spotted it, looked around for a weapon, grabbed a wastebasket and lunged at the horrible beast with it. The cockroach made a dash for it, jumping off the bed with the ease of a skydiver and running around the floor as Ty, naked and obviously out of the mood, tried to smash it with a wastebasket.

  Ty was fast and agile and used to outsmarting, outplaying, and outwitting opponents. Human opponents. But the darn thing was faster and didn’t play by human rules. The way it scampered and ran, it barely obeyed the laws of physics.

  Ty chased it around the room.

  “Go, baby, go!” Treflee jumped up on a chair. “Get it! Get your gun. Shoot it. Wipe it off the face of the planet!”

  Ty was an expert shot. She had no doubt he could hit it square in its tiny insect heart. If he could only find his weapon. Why didn’t he have it on him?

  Oh, yeah.

  “Ouch! Damn it!” He slid through the wreckage from their earlier desire, a pile of green broken glass. Fortunately, he was used to resisting torture like walking through glass and just kept going.

  He chased the evil being into the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

  Treflee heard a whole lot of crashing going on. It sounded as if Ty was struggling with a talented foe. And the cockroach was winning. She would have gone to help him. If she hadn’t been so terrified. Or if the intruder had been human. Or if she’d had a can of Raid on her.

  The walls of the bathroom shook. Ty cursed. She heard the sound of the wastebasket being slammed against the floor. And then, silence.

  “Got it!” Ty emerged from the bathroom with a look of a victory.

  When he spotted her standing naked, his eyes dilated and he grinned. He swept her off the chair into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Just as he was about to set her on it, she froze, leaned as far into him and away from the bed as humanly possible, her arms in a death clamp around his neck, suddenly panicked. “What if there are more?”

  “There aren’t any more.” He nuzzled her neck.

  “You don’t know that.” She shook uncontrollably.

  “Cockroaches travel alone.”

  “Liar.” She held on tightly to him and started to shake, irrationally, uncontrollably.

  “Baby.” He carried her to the chair and settled her in his lap, stroking her hair. “It was just a bug.”

  She curled into him and tucked her head beneath his chin. “I know. But I can’t.” She shivered. “The mood’s ruined.”

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He stroked her hair. “There’s no pressure. No pressure, remember? We’ll take a little time out to regroup and rekindle the mood. Sound good?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “But what if there are more?”

  “I’ll check the bed. And then I’ll call the office and ask them to send a maid out to deal with that dead cockroach in the bathroom. They fumigate regularly. That one was probably just a rogue. But just in case, I’ll ask them to spray around the baseboards. Okay?” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Now, why don’t you put on that hot white bikini of yours? Then we’ll go snorkeling to take your mind off things while the maid cleans up.”

  She nodded again and sighed. As she pulled away, she caught sight of his foot. “You’re bleeding!”

  He looked down and shrugged. “It’s just a mere flesh wound. I’ll bandage it up and be fine.”

  “What if you need stitches? You should see a doctor—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “It’s not that bad. Really. Besides, I’m not spending a moment I don’t have to in the emergency room when I have a sexy wife to seduce.”

  Last time they’d been in Maui, he had taken her to the emergency room and she’d been unhappy about having to spend a second of her vacation at the hospital. So she completely sympathized with him.

  “I’ll get dressed and clean up a bit before the maid comes.” Treflee surveyed the room, noticing the broken green glass had been part of a bottle of expensive champagne. It was now shattered, surrounded by the remnants of two champagne flutes.

  A lamp lay overturned next to the bed. Somehow, it had survived the fall. A vase full of red roses had not fared as well.

  “Oh, Ty! That was all so sweet.”

  He pulled her close once more. “Don’t cry over spilled champagne. Isn’t that what they say?”

  She glanced at the clock. Just five to seventeen hours left in her lovely window of desire and opportunity.

  On the Beach

  Treflee gasped as they approached the beach and she spotted the white canvas beach cabana Ty had ordered as a surprise. Ty smiled, pleased at her reaction. He’d gone to great effort to make this vacation something really special for her. She deserved it for putting up with his demanding, dangerous job. But, to be perfectly honest, the cabana was also part of his diversionary tactics. Subterfuge, if you will.

  This wasn’t e
xactly just a vacation. There was a mission aspect to this trip. Just a small one. All he had to do was deliver a tiny piece of top-secret electronic equipment to a contact in Lahaina and NCS would pay for the entire vacation. This allowed him to give Treflee much more romance and fantasy than he could on his secret agent pay.

  But if she found out, there would be hell to pay. Fortunately, he had everything under control. Tonight he’d take Tref to a romantic dinner in town, make his drop, and be done. Then he’d come back to the cottage and knock his wife up. He tried not to limp on his sliced foot as they walked hand in hand to the cabana. But it ached like hell.

  A bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket, just as he’d ordered. And a replica of the top layer of their wedding cake stood on a small round beach table covered with a tablecloth in their wedding colors. A cooler with appetizers and snacks sat in the shade.

  Off to the side was an assortment of snorkeling and surfing gear. He also had another mission this mission—tell Tref that he’d been assigned to go undercover again as a surfer and attend a series of surfing competitions. She wasn’t going to like that, either.

  But if she was already happily pregnant by the time he left? Then she might be content to stay home and take it easy while she carried their baby to term. That was the goal. He wanted her safe, and her pregnancy to go smoothly. He feared she couldn’t stand another miscarriage. The last one had devastated her.

  Treflee ran to the small table. When she turned to smile at him, tears stood in her eyes. “You remembered.” She picked up the brown beer bottle with a single pink rose in it.

  When they’d first started dating he’d had no money, so he bought her a rose at the grocery store and used a beer bottle for a vase. On their honeymoon, he had one waiting for her that was just like the first one, as this one was.

  She set it down and kissed him as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “What would you like to do first?” he asked. “Eat?” He nuzzled her neck and growled, hoping she’d get the message of what he’d like to do. “Look at pretty fish? Surf? Paddle board?”

  “Snorkel, marvel at the tropical fish, then we’ll eat once I’ve worked up an appetite.” Her eyes twinkled with devilment.

  Okay, he didn’t need to be told twice she still needed some recovery time. That cockroach had been a big, ugly bastard. Ty handed her a snorkeling mask and fins and grabbed his underwater camera and gear for himself.

  On the tropical side of the island, an afternoon rain shower was nothing out of the ordinary. Today, however, the sky remained clear and free of any sign of downpours, as if to accommodate them and make up for the earlier misadventure in the cottage.

  They walked hand in hand, masks hanging around their necks, gear swinging in their opposite hands as they approached the water. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off Tref as she walked. That white bikini drew his eyes directly to all her assets. His wife was stunning, a real Bond girl in anyone’s imagination. All she needed was a gun stuck down her bikini bottoms and she’d be perfectly outfitted for the job.

  She paused at the edge of the water to let the waves gently lap at her toes. “It’s pleasantly cool.” She smiled at him. “But by no means frigid.”

  She gave him a sympathetic look. “Poor baby. Is your foot going to be okay in the salt water?”

  “No need to worry.” Ty lifted his foot for her to see. “Waterproof bandage.” Ty stood, grabbed her hand and charged into the ocean, pulling her along. He knew his wife. On her own she’d timidly enter the water. But he was having none of that. He wanted to see that white bathing suit wet and see-through and recapture the earlier mood.

  She screamed, happily this time, as they moved through the gentle waves.

  In waist-deep water, he paused, pushed the underwater camera around his neck out of the way, took her into his arms, with his fins still in hand, kissed her. “This is the way it should be. Just you and me and the beach.” He nuzzled her ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her fins slapped against his back.

  “You’re just trying to distract me before you dunk me in the water.”

  “That’s harsh. Would I do something like that?”

  “You have before.” She splashed him.

  He laughed. “The owners say the snorkeling is good all along the beach, but the best snorkeling is there.” He pointed to a little cove just down the beach. “Are you with me?”

  “Lead and I will follow.”

  “No hesitation? No dallying?”

  “Absolutely no dallying. I’m diving in.”

  He kissed her again, pulled his mask down and his fins on, put the snorkel in his mouth, and dove in. He could swim like a Navy Seal. In fact, he’d trained with a few. But Tref had never been a particularly strong swimmer. She was more of a dog paddling, backstroking, float around lazily on an inner tube or air mattress kind of girl. So he took it easy and swam slowly, waiting for her. To his satisfaction, she put her fins and mask on and dove in after him, getting her fabulous blond hair wet and ruining the half an hour of styling it had taken to get to fall in the loose waves around her shoulders.

  He found her as sexy with wet hair plastered against her head, or with lovely tousled bedhead hair, as he did with perfectly styled hair. He just found her sexy, period.

  Treflee was right beside him as he leisurely led the way to the cove, passing small schools of fish as they did. The owners weren’t mistaken about the great snorkeling. Almost as soon as he stuck his head in the water, he spotted a school of tangs. He pointed to them. Treflee nodded and pointed to a few more.

  As he’d hoped, her white bikini had gone transparent. The dark buds of her nipples showed through in the clear, tropical water—so much so that he had a hard time concentrating on the black and orange tangs.

  He spotted a group of common gray angelfish. Treflee cuddled up close to him as they swam by.

  The water was clear and calm. The air fresh. And Ty wanted his wife. Before dinner. He wanted to make love to her here, in the private cove.

  They approached a small reef of coral. Treflee nudged him and pointed to a pair of toby fish, motioning between the fish and them as if to say, look at us all paired up.

  He couldn’t help himself. He pulled his snorkel out of his mouth, dove deeper, swam beneath her and came up with her on his back.

  She’d pulled her snorkel out of her mouth. “Hey!” She was laughing as she put her arms around him and he swam them to shallower water where it wasn’t over her head.

  Nearer to shore, he kicked off his fins and stood with her arms still around his neck and her warm lips nibbling him just below his hairline, driving him crazy with horniness. He tossed his fins onto the beach as she released him and pulled hers off. He took her fins from her, tossed them to shore next to his, and pulled her into a kiss as he untied the top to her bikini, pulled it away from her body, and tossed it onshore.

  Her breasts stood out, perky, her nipples fully erect as he stroked them. He’d never get over the pleasure of fondling them.

  She pressed her breasts against his chest and her hips against his straining swim trunks, pushing him to the edge, mad with desire.

  “Tref,” he whispered in her ear.

  She bounced in the buoyant water and straddled him, wrapping her legs around his hips as he walked them toward shore to a place where he could lay her in the water and make love to her in this secluded paradise.

  He found the perfect spot where the sand was wet, packed, yet soft, and the waves lapped gently. He laid her down and kissed her neck as she arched up to meet him and stroked his cheek.

  Overhead a petrel called, but hell, he didn’t care if a bird saw him doing to his wife what the birds and bees were famous for. He leisurely worked his way down her body, exploring, kissing, caressing every inch of ocean-cooled skin, getting her hot, and stroking her until he reached her breasts, her great big, beautiful breasts. He’d just taken one beautiful, salty, erect nipple in his mouth when the distinctive sound of appro
aching ATVs caught him up short.

  Tref was still moaning softly as he popped his head up. Sure enough, down the beach a group of half a dozen ATVs approached at breakneck speed.

  “What the hell?”

  Tref propped herself up on her elbows to take a look at what had distracted him. When she saw them, she sat up and covered her breasts with her hand. “My bikini top!”

  Oh, damn. RIOT agents? All Ty had on him was his underwater camera gun, and that was only a six-shooter. If he shot now, he’d give the mission away for sure. And if he left Tref hanging out topless and defenseless, his chances of getting laid this vacation went to nil.

  He grabbed her bikini top and held it out to her as the ATVs tore up the beach and plowed through the cabana without slowing down. One of the ATVers grabbed the cooler as Treflee motioned for Ty to tie her top back on.

  “No! Not our cake!” Tref screamed and pointed just as one of the ATV guys grabbed it and smashed it onto the table, pawing through the crumbs.

  As if I’d bake it into a cake! These guys are just out to mock and embarrass me.

  He tied the strings around Treflee’s neck and took a step to go after the bastards.

  Tref grabbed his arm and held him back, relegating him to watch impotently as the thugs pawed through their towels and beach gear, stole their wine, dumped the ice from the bucket where it cooled and looked for a false bottom.

  “What is that guy? A wine bucket connoisseur?” Treflee wore a puzzled look.

  If she catches on to what’s really going on . . .

  They ripped around the cabana, spewing sprays of sand and tearing up the terrain as they loaded Ty’s surfboard and bag onto the back of one of the vehicles and tore out.

  Either Ty missed his guess or at this very minute another group of terrorists was going through their cottage. Well, good luck to them. He had the top-secret gadget on him. How dumb did they think he was?

  Beside him, Treflee clutched his arm and curled into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the bad guys peeled away.

  When he turned to her, tears stood in her eyes.

  “It’s all right, babe. They didn’t hurt us. We can replace stuff.”