Trace wasn’t happy about the memories. “I went on a couple before me and the ex parted ways. They were not run the same. Big booze parties with a lot of apologizing afterwards. I can tell you’ve got it dialed down.”
“That’s the way Christy Lansdowne runs it, like Kyle runs the team. I just watch and follow along what she does. I’m sure she learned it from another SEAL wife when Kyle was first starting out.”
“Good leadership all the way around. I can see why it was so hard to get attached to Kyle’s team. He and Christy are a great combination. We’re all lucky to be on Team 3.”
“I think so too.”
The bill came to over five hundred dollars, which Libby paid from an envelope of cash she carried in her purse. Fredo was in line behind them with his favorite Tequila and a bag of limes.
“I can add those on here, come on down, Fredo,” said Libby.
“No, I got this.” Fredo answered. Trace knew that meant the Tequila would be housed in his room, not in the kitchen with all the other food and drink.
Posters advertising the Sunday night buffet and show were plastered everywhere.
Coop and Trace wheeled out the two shopping carts and everyone loaded up the bags in the small storage in the back of the Jeep. Trace handed the keys to Coop.
“I’m going to try to find Gretchen and Linda. Going to see if I can interest them in the show tonight. You guys going to come?”
“I’d like to,” said Libby. “We can meet you there.” She examined his shorts and flip-flops. “Won’t you have to go home and change?”
“Honey, this is Hawaii,” Coop interrupted. “Even the bankers wear flip flops and shorts, and half of them are barefoot behind the counter. He’ll be fine.” He took the keys. “Best of luck. You get stood up and need a ride, give me a call, hear?”
“Roger that. Thanks, Coop.”
Trace searched the large open-beamed lobby and reception area at the resort, then headed to the bar area and patio, which had outstanding views of the Hanalei Valley. Just as Linda had said, the sunset was going to be a bright orange one, judging from the glow already forming in the late afternoon horizon. Large white clouds towered in the late afternoon sky, tinged in pink, which promised a light shower by morning if the trade winds blew them ashore. Kauai was the greenest of all the Hawaiian chain, with rainfall on some of its peaks nearly the highest in the world, peppering the green volcano-created hillsides with waterfalls.
The women weren’t there.
He followed a path of crush rock down to the beach area below the resort and had no trouble spotting Linda Gray’s floppy red hat. Next to her, Gretchen lay on her belly reading a book. They were shaded by a thatched palapa. Linda had been served a hollowed-out pineapple drink, while Gretchen was sipping on something pink with an umbrella and fresh fruit adorning the side of the tall glass.
Trace was surprised the beach was nearly deserted.
“Well look who I found?” he said.
Gretchen greeted him with a warm smile as she sat up. Her oiled body glistened in the diffuse light. Linda’s back and shoulders already looked like they were turning red.
“Oh Trace. You’re here just in time.” Linda rummaged through her large red beach bag. Holding up a tube of lotion, she asked, “Can you put this on my back, please?” She raised her glasses and winked at him for a special effect.
He grabbed the tube and noted she was only using a sunscreen of twenty. “You need something stronger, Linda. You’re red already.”
“See? I told you so,” added Gretchen. “Here, use this on her.” She handed him a blue spray bottle with sunscreen rated fifty.
He applied the spray and Linda arched back with a hiss crossing her teeth. “Ouch, that’s cold.”
“You’re a little burned. You should stay out of the sun for a day or two,” he said as he smoothed the oil over her skin gently. “The sun is hotter here than in California. Need to give your body time to adjust.” He turned to address Gretchen, “May I?”
“Go right ahead.”
Trace removed his shirt and gave himself a spray chest side and back side, and after smoothing the foam he used the remainder on his hands for his face and followed up with a little extra to his lower legs. When he was finished, both women were staring at him with their jaws dropping.
His immediate reaction was embarrassment, and he made a point to re-apply the sunscreen to his face to cover up a possible blush forming there.
“Anyone up for going in the water?” he asked.
Both girls stood up.
“I think you’d better wear a shirt, Linda, with your coloring,” Trace added.
“Can I wear yours?” She batted her brown eyes at him.
He acquiesced, handing it to her. She slipped it over her shoulders and winked at Gretchen. That’s when he noticed she had become quiet all of a sudden. “Well, ladies,” he said, as he extended his elbows. “Shall we dip our toes in the surf?” They locked arms and the threesome went down to the water’s edge.
“About time we saw some nice abs and biceps,” quipped Linda, holding her hat atop her head against a breeze that threatened to remove it.
“Glad I could oblige.”
Gretchen was still quiet, but her arm linked through his gave him a spark of excitement at the feel of flesh on flesh.
“There’s a big party tonight here,” he began. “They do a Sunday night buffet and a Polynesian review. Either of you interested in attending? I think Libby and Coop and some of the others are planning on coming down.”
“I saw that,” whispered Gretchen. “Looks like fun. Do they actually swallow fire?”
Trace shrugged. “Beats me, but it showcases the native dances and some customs of the islands—all the islands in the South Pacific, not just the Hawaiian chain. It was recommended by our guide.”
At the water, Linda insisted on getting Trace totally soaked as Gretchen hung back by herself. The novelist changed her mind and opted to return to their palapa and seek some shade, so she left Trace and Gretchen wandering down the beach.
“You having fun?”
Gretchen smiled to her toes. “I was just thinking about that.”
“That means you don’t take enough vacations.”
“You’re spot on with that one, Trace. I’ve just been concentrating on being a good mom, raising the girls and paying the bills.” After a brief silence, she corrected herself. “Not complaining or anything. I have a nice life. And it’s my job. I love being a mom, but honestly, everything else was put on hold when I became single.”
“I’ve been told your girls are first class, like their mother.”
“Well, you don’t want to come around on laundry or cleaning day. I look like the Wicked Witch of the West, and my demeanor is far from pleasant. The two older girls find every excuse in the book to be gone that day.”
Trace liked that she didn’t take herself seriously, and he also liked the way the sounds of their combined laughter mingled together.
“How about you?” she asked. She unclipped her hair and then folded it back into place again.
“It’s getting better. I wasn’t so sure earlier on.” He checked to make sure Linda wasn’t within earshot. “Your friend, here, cuts a wide swath. Kind of sucks up the oxygen in the room.”
“Even at the beach.” Gretchen chuckled again. “But she means well. I think she’s actually afraid of herself. More than she likes to let on.”
“And perhaps a touch too lonely,” said Trace.
Gretchen sighed at that one. “Being single for me is one thing. But for her, why she’s supposed to be the world’s expert on sex and all things romantic, but has no romantic life of her own.”
“Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he asked her. The lowered sun had created a bright peach sky as the fluffy clouds morphed into what looked like big clumps of suspended cotton candy. Her honest eyes searched his and the urge to kiss her was rekindled.
“Maybe you should scratch that itch, Trace. I think she’s up for a
little adventure.”
“Ah! Well, he said, I have another lass I’m sort of interested in, if she’ll give me the time of day—”
They stopped and he found it natural to take her right hand, lacing his fingers between hers.
“I’ve got six days to give you, Trace. And then, I go back to Portland and resume my motherly duties.”
She said it with her laughing eyes, but the comment was serious. He moved his hands to her face, tipped her head back and kissed her gently on her sweet lips. He loved the feeling of standing with her with the roar of the ocean at their side, her body shaking slightly.
“Don’t be afraid, Gretchen. Just let yourself enjoy what’s right in front of you.”
She wrapped her arms around him and buried the side of her face in his chest. But even though he stood firm, he could still feel her shaking. He could tell she needed time.
Well, the truth was, he did too.
Chapter 6
Gretchen and Linda sat with their crowd, after the huge dinner. Several of the men had left to go get drinks in the bar, including Trace. When the lights began to dim and it was obvious the program was started, she looked around to see if he was on his way back to her side, but as the long Hawaiian chant began and dancers took to the stage, it became clear the men had decided to view the program from the back. She still couldn’t find any of them.
No one else seemed to notice.
One by one, the performers demonstrated different costumes and themes from the various lands of the South Pacific. She watched the all-male fire dancers who did indeed swallow lit torches and did acrobatics between flames, carrying wooden implements. It was a spectacular display and soon she forgot about the vacant seat next to her.
The stage was darkened, and then a gorgeous Polynesian dancer dressed in all white came out covered in flowers. Others spread petals all over the dance floor and kept time with the gentle sway of the most sensual hula she had ever seen.
An older heavy-set woman sat to the side, picked up a ukulele and began singing the beautiful Hawaiian wedding song. The dancer turned her beautiful body to the side, and welcomed her male partner, also dressed in white. It didn’t take Gretchen long to recognize Trace’s physique. His sandy wind-blown hair and bright smile was a welcome sight. He wore white long pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned. He was barefoot.
The audience clapped, recognizing that he’d been picked from the guests to dance with this lovely maiden. She undulated in front of him, and then at his side. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep up with her, but made a good effort. She drifted to his front and pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and dropped it on the stage, revealing Trace’s huge shoulders, his long muscular arms and the way his hips swung from side to side, which delighted the female part of the audience.
The dancer smiled demurely, moved herself in front of him and wrapped his arms around her as they inched first to the right and then to the left together. She pulled away and took one of the flowers from her hair and placed it behind his ear, kissing his cheek.
She demonstrated how fast her hips could swivel, something Trace could not duplicate, or even come close to doing.
Soon, Coop, Armando and a couple other SEALs appeared at the rear of the stage, all shirtless, all attempting to follow the beautiful apparition in white as she moved from man to man, teasing them.
Gretchen knew the normal men they chose from the audiences were overweight sunburned senior citizens, or guys who wouldn’t take their dark socks off. Tonight they were lucky to have some actual men of steel front and center, demonstrating hours of PT and training, most of them better developed than the male dancers in the review. Young girls ran up to the stage and threw their leis at the men, who allowed themselves to be “captured” by the flower lassos.
The older woman drew her song to an end as the beautiful dancer cuddled in Trace’s arms again to close the program. But instead of taking her in his arms, Trace jumped from the stage and came running through the aisle. Within seconds he appeared, hoisted Gretchen from her seat and carried her off down the beach.
Her heart was thumping as she watched the excited crowd over his shoulder. Cheers and clapping erupted and then faded as Trace carried her away into the shadows. He set her down slowly and then let her slide down his front side. She didn’t back away from him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, as she crossed her wrists behind his neck, and then ran her fingers through his hair.
“Thought you wouldn’t mind a little adventure. Thanks for being a good sport,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.
Her body was in flames at the touch of his mouth on hers, as he kissed down her neck and under her ear. She didn’t shy away as his groin pressed against her. But she had to whimper as his hand slipped under her blouse, smoothed over the small of her back, and then slid to her front side, where he slowly drew one hand up to cover her breast.
She needed air, gasping at his squeeze. He was watching her intently, and then kissed her just as her involuntary moan pierced the sounds of the sea when his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple.
He pressed against her again, and this time she raised her leg, feeling his hip and muscled thigh against her own.
His beautiful chiseled body shone perfectly in the moonlight like a Greek statue. Her fingers splayed to travel the hardness of his mid section, up over his pecs and then back down again. His hand guided hers to his length, busting against the fabric of the white stretchy pants.
He slipped his palm under her sarong, feeling the length of her upper leg and then traveling to her butt, pulling her into him deeper. Her fingers lingered on the zipper of his pants as her pubic bone rode his thigh, cresting waves of pleasure all over her body.
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She tasted the saltiness of his chest, listened to his heartbeat and flicked her tongue over his nipple, which returned a satisfying groan back to her.
She was oblivious to everything else. The ocean waves cresting and breaking along the wet sand mimicked the beat of her heart. His breathing was ragged, his kisses desperately deep and getting harder. Somewhere there were thoughts about privacy and decorum, but she’d shed them, just as she now shed her skirt. He kneeled in front of her and took her panties down with his teeth, which made her whole body shake with need. His tongue found her slit, and she gasped, clutching him tighter, pulling her shirt up to release her breasts.
She lowered herself to her knees, tasting the sour saltiness of her own arousal on his lips and tongue. Her fingers felt for his zipper, which he’d already undone. Her knees hugged his hips as he leaned back. Their fingers laced together, guiding his cock to her opening and squeezing his penetration with a sigh coming from both of them. He held her hips and pressed her down on him so that he was deep, and she nearly passed out.
It had been years since she’d been desired, since she’d felt these flames she was now basking in. It had been too long, and now, she was quickly losing control, begging him to take her hard and without any hesitation. His thrusts she met with her own pressure, her internal muscles welcoming him to her womanhood, her kisses to his ears, eyes, and the top of his head as his teeth and tongue devoured and suckled her breasts.
She had no idea she had felt such emptiness, now filled with his glorious length. Aware that she was totally wanton, Gretchen asked for more. He flipped her body, gently laying her back on the wild grasses under the palm. He thrust deep and hard and she held him there, squeezing and pressing his groin into her. His hips moved fluidly, pumping her wildly as if testing how much she could take. All she knew was that she wanted more, had always needed more, and would need more than this quick little tryst in the moonlight dangerously stolen on this magical evening under the stars.
Years of loneliness withered away as their lovemaking turned her bones to rubber and opened up the deep chasm of her soul. Whoever he was, no matter what was to follow next, Trace had brought her from the dead to the living, showing her that it had a
ll been worth it. It mattered not how long it lasted. She’d been found, touched by a man in ways she never knew possible.
She’d be powerless to stop it now. She would forever remain awakened.
Chapter 7
He was squeezing her hand so hard on their walk back to the venue, she had to remind him to release her fingers. But she smiled as she said it, and he told her he was sorry if he’d hurt her.
“Don’t want to let you go.”
“I like that,” she said.
Her thigh brushed against his as they approached their group. Her clip had been lost, and her blonde hair was everywhere about her shoulders, framing her pretty face, her flushed cheeks and plump lips he’d not had nearly enough time to explore. His breath had barely returned to normal, but his heartbeat was still rapid, matching her pulse. Her scent had charmed him, making him feel wild with need all over again. If she’d let him, he’d not let her sleep a minute of their time together.
Linda of course picked up on the change in their demeanor. He stood before her not hiding his guilt. The writer’s eyes glistened as she was nearly brought to tears. Gretchen leaned against him and he put his hands possessively on her upper arms, rubbing up and down, wishing he could feel her smooth skin under the blouse. His member was pressing already against her rear.
“Hey, your bride to be was left without a groom on stage, my man,” shouted Fredo when he saw him. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to leave a woman at the altar?”
He didn’t care. They could rib him from now until the flight home. He was the happiest he’d been in two years at least.
“Where’s your shirt, Romeo?” Armando asked him. He too winked at Gretchen. “That was quite a performance, Trace. Way to make a lasting impression on your brothers.”
Trace realized he had to return the white pants and get back his own clothes and flip-flops. Gretchen was working with her hair and tucking it in to make an attractive French twist without her clip. Her cheeks were still pink.
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