Summer Sizzle

by Samantha Gentry

  Chapter Two

  “Your mother never had a washer and dryer?” A look of total bewilderment covered Blake’s face. “What the hell does that mean?” He tilted his head and stared at her, his eyebrows knitted in a confused frown. “I haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re talking about. Are you trying to save money so you can buy your mother a washer and dryer?”

  “It’s nothing.” Vicki clipped her words as she spit out the thought. Her defenses were definitely up. “You obviously wouldn’t understand.”

  Maybe others had time to waste their lives on frivolous pursuits like flying kites, but not her. As a child, her father had moved their family from city to city and state to state, always in search of the big break just over the hill in the next town. She had grown up in one small rented apartment after another. She needed the sense of security that had been lacking in her childhood, the permanency her mother never had. The washer and dryer had become symbols of the security and permanency she vowed to provide for herself.

  She had worked hard to further her education and map out her future. Her bachelor’s degree had been a slow process. From the time she graduated from high school, she had worked full time to support herself in addition to paying her college expenses. After that, she set her goal on the pursuit of a master’s degree. Her goal was finally within sight. She would have time to indulge in frivolous things after she had firmly established her own business and secured her future.

  Vicki had watched her mother haul loads of laundry for their family of five to the coin operated public laundry during all the years of her childhood and youth. And even though she never heard her mother complain, she surely must have resented the extra burden she shouldered to allow her father to follow his dreams without accepting the responsibilities a family required. Well, that would not be her lot in life. She had her feet firmly planted in reality.

  She would have her washer and dryer.

  “How do you know I wouldn’t understand? Why don’t you give me a try? You might be surprised.”

  “It’s…it’s not important. Forget it.”

  “Okay, if you’d rather not talk about it.”

  She stared out the window as her last remnant of control over the situation slipped away.

  “Uh, I have a suggestion that could help you out of your predicament, at least for the moment. This is a large house. Perhaps we could reach an understanding about sharing it until Monday, when you can work out something with the rental office.”

  Her eyes widened as shock traveled through her body. Had she heard him correctly?

  He awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncertainty showing on his face. “I know it sounds kind of bizarre, especially since we don’t know anything about each other, but give it some thought. You don’t need to be alarmed. I’m not the type to sneak up on you in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping and jump into your bed.” A teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “At least not without an invitation.”

  Wariness replaced her initial shock, and she took a couple of steps backward.

  His expression turned serious. “Lighten up a little. I’m just kidding. There’s no reason for you to be worried about your safety. So, what do you think? Can we co-exist for a couple of days?”

  “Well…” It took her a few seconds to get over her alarm. She hesitated as she tried to formulate her thoughts and weigh her alternatives. Between the rental agency not calling her back and Blake showing her a copy of a signed lease, she had little doubt about the legitimacy of his claim to the house. She pulled open the sliding glass door to let in the sounds of the ocean and took a deep breath to calm her inner jitters. She tried to put her heated physical desire for this totally inappropriate man to one side so she could make a logical evaluation of the situation. “I can’t make a decision like this without considering all the facets of the problem and carefully weighing the pros and cons.”

  “You know what I think, Victoria Templeton?” His soft voice sounded so very sexy as he moved to stand directly behind her, his nearness sending waves of heated desire coursing through her veins. “I think you’ve never done a spontaneous thing in your life.”

  “How dare you make such an assumption!” She whirled around to face him and found herself looking up into his mesmerizing blue eyes. She tried to force a confident tone into her voice, something she definitely didn’t feel. “You don’t know a thing about me or my situation.”

  “I’ll even go so far as to guess that you don’t know how to be spontaneous.” He stared at her as if trying to reach inside her head and drag out her thoughts. “You’re so busy worrying about tomorrow that you won’t allow yourself any time for today.”

  “You think I don’t know how to be spontaneous?” Her words were spoken half in anger and half in disbelief. He had challenged her, something she couldn’t allow to go unanswered. She stepped close to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and plastered her mouth against his. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest. Then, very aware of his rapidly growing erection, she leaned her hips against his body.

  Oh, God…he feels so good.

  She could imagine that impressive cock sliding inside her. Her pussy tingled with need. It had been too long since she enjoyed a wild, raunchy tumble in the sack. Her vibrator continued to be a dependable friend in a time of need but didn’t provide an adequate replacement for the real thing. Damn, what was it about this totally unsuitable man that had her wanting to rip off the few clothes he was wearing, shove him down on the floor, and impale herself on his stiff cock?

  His tongue probed between her lips. She opened her mouth, allowing the texture of his tongue to mesh with hers. The sensation of his hand sliding down her back and across her hip to cup her ass sent a shiver of anticipation racing through her body.

  Blake pulled her tighter against him. It had taken him a moment to get over his shock at her suddenly aggressive manner. One thing was for sure—no way could this woman ever be classified cold as ice. Not if the earthiness of her kiss was any indication. It made him want to bury his cock deep inside her, and as soon as possible. His original plan for the night had been to wander into the village and grab one of the beach bunnies for yet another night of hot, meaningless sex, maybe even a threesome, but he would much prefer to explore the hidden talents of Vicki Templeton.

  He ran his hand under her T-shirt and cupped the fullness of her bare breast. Her creamy smooth skin excited his senses.

  Then, to his surprise, she broke off the kiss and took a step back. Her slightly parted, kiss-swollen lips begged for more, as did the raw passion burning in the depths of her eyes. His ragged breathing matched hers. He reached for her, but she deftly moved out of his immediate range. Was she playing some kind of teasing game? If so, he would have her out the door and on her way pronto. He didn’t have any trouble taking no for an answer and letting his pursuit of a woman drop. But he had no use for cock teasers and no interest in women who wanted to play little games of temptation while knowing they had no intention of following through. Fantasy games with whipped cream, body paint, and sex toys were an entirely different situation.

  “I guess that proves I’m capable of being spontaneous.”

  “So that’s what this is about?” He studied the determination covering her face, a look that did not match the passion still smoldering in her eyes. “Your need to prove something?”

  She stared at him in disbelief.

  “And did you manage to prove whatever it was?” He tried, but he couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  She squared her shoulders while tugging at the bottom of her T-shirt to smooth it down. “Yes, I believe so. I proved I can be spontaneous if I choose to. I also put the, uh, tension to rest so we can resolve the real problem without veering off course.” She paused as if to collect her thoughts. Her inner conflict showed on her face as her manner softened. “Look, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative of your offer. It’s just that, well, these are unusual cir
cumstances, and I don’t know a thing about you. For instance, what do you do for a living?”

  Put the tension to rest? Those may have been her words, but they hadn’t come anywhere near to doing that, as far as he could tell. Not only did the sexual tension continue to exist, it had doubled. His mind reeled from her abrupt change of direction. She had gone from hot passion to cool logic in a matter of seconds.

  Now his turn had come to decide what kind of personal information to reveal, and what to keep safely hidden away. He carefully chose his words. “I’m…I guess you could say I’m retired.”

  Her expression went blank as she stared at him, as if she hadn’t heard what he said. Then she apparently found her voice. “You’re retired? You aren’t old enough. What you mean is that you’re unemployed.” Her abject disapproval came through loud and clear.

  He had earned a Doctorate of Sociology, and at his current age of thirty-nine was the youngest department head at the university. In fact, the youngest in the university’s history. Following his son’s death, he had tried to bury himself in academic duties but found each term more difficult to endure than the one before. So just prior to the beginning of the spring term, he had made the decision to take a one year sabbatical.

  He sold his house near the university, had sold everything but his clothes, car, and a few other personal items, and signed the one year lease on the beach house that belonged to his friend, Gary Sanderson.

  The work ethic that had driven him to his early success no longer held any importance. He found it necessary to live each day as it came, to throw off the yoke of his previous life, and to make decisions predicated on what he wanted at the moment rather than on what was deemed proper, acceptable, or practical. Building toward a future no longer mattered. No one was guaranteed a tomorrow. Not even this compulsively regimented woman who had suddenly invaded his life.

  “Look, Vicki. It’s dinner time, and I’m hungry.” Blake’s exasperation resounded in his voice. “Do you want me to help take your suitcases upstairs to the spare room, or do you need to use the phone to make a motel reservation and call a taxi? Hopefully, you won’t get the same driver who brought you here.”

  “I, well…” She nervously cleared her throat. “All right, I’ll accept your offer. But I must warn you. I know karate and…and I have a gun.”

  He couldn’t stop the open, easy laugh that shattered the tension filling the room. “Well, I don’t know karate, and I don’t own a gun.” He tilted his head to one side and studied her for a moment, a teasing grin playing across his lips. “And judging by your flamboyant display of spontaneity, maybe I’m the one who’d better make sure my bedroom door is locked.”

  “I—I didn’t mean to insinuate that—” She turned her back to him, but not quickly enough to prevent him from seeing her face and neck turn crimson with embarrassment.

  “The second bedroom at the end of the hall is yours.” Blake didn’t say anything else. He simply grabbed her suitcases and took them upstairs. When he came back down, he went straight out onto the deck.

  He had a kite to reel in. He untied the line from the railing and brought the colorful box kite down, setting it inside the living room next to the one he’d placed there earlier. Standing on the deck, he looked at the panorama spread out before him. It had been a beautiful, sunny day with only a few clouds on the horizon. The sunset promised to be a dazzling one, the type to be savored and enjoyed rather than merely accepted as the norm.

  “Yo, Blake!” The shout came from down the beach.

  Blake raised his hand to shade his eyes from the sunlight. He spotted his next door neighbor walking across the sand toward him. “Hey, Tim. What’s up?”

  Blake had met his gregarious, fun-loving neighbor the first day he moved into the beach house. Tim Flannigan was a partner in a very successful law firm but only went into the city two or three days a week. He could accurately be described as a playboy who lived life in the fast lane.

  Tim stopped next to the deck railing where Blake stood. “Party at my place on Saturday, a week from tomorrow, starting at seven o’clock and lasting until…oh, maybe the entire weekend.” He flashed his practiced smile, his dark eyes twinkling with good fun. “It’s going to be a night of wine, women, and song, and you can forget about the song part.”

  “Sounds good.” Blake’s good-natured laugh fit in with Tim’s fun-loving mood. “What’s the occasion?”

  “The summer season’s almost upon us, meaning beach bunnies in thongs with bouncing boobs. Tits and ass everywhere.” He waved his arm across the expanse of the sand, indicating the entire scene. “As far as the eye can see. All the pussy you can handle.” Tim turned and headed back to his house.

  Blake called out after him. “Are we still on for volleyball tomorrow?”

  “You bet.” Tim waved as he climbed the steps to his own deck. “See you at ten.”

  Blake took a deep breath and filled his lungs with clean ocean air. He thought about Tim’s party and the type of people who would probably be there. It was impossible to ignore the continual parade of women coming and going from Tim’s house. For the most part, it looked to him as if Tim had no interest in intellectual stimulation and had an incredible interest in vacuous beach bunnies with artificially enhanced attributes.

  Then he thought of the parade of women who’d been in and out of his own life the last couple of years. He had to admit he couldn’t find much difference between them even though he tried to rationalize his own behavior and definitely needed the occasional intelligent conversation to break the mindless whirl.

  When his son died, he had lost all interest in trying to find the one woman who would make them a true family. Instead, he settled for a life of parties, mindless pleasure fucking, and living only for the day without the troublesome interference of things like emotions.

  Then there was the night he’d spent with the identical twins. Even their body piercings were identical. One ring in the left nipple and a ring through the outer right pussy lip. The only way to tell them apart was by the tattoo on their inner thighs—a rose for one twin and a butterfly for the other. His first ménage a trois. On a physical level, it had been exciting. But on a deeper level, it had turned out to be as empty as the rest of his life had become.

  He leaned against the railing and watched the sky change from blue to pink and gold as the sun dipped closer and closer to the horizon.

  “I’m settled into my room.”

  Vicki’s voice surprised him. He had been so absorbed in his own world he hadn’t heard her walk out onto the deck. He glanced toward her. “Good.”

  Vicki took a calming breath, but it didn’t help much. Awkwardness suddenly permeated the air, discomfort resulting from the fact that, for all intents and purposes, they were now officially living together…if only for the weekend. Two strangers with absolutely nothing in common other than one hot kiss.

  The uncomfortable sensation tightened across her chest, as if everything had suddenly started to close in around her and she had no control over any of it. Taking Blake up on his offer had been the only logical thing to do. Even if she could conduct her business from a motel room, which she knew she would not be able to do, she certainly could not afford to stay in a motel for very long. If only she hadn’t paid Mr. Edwards for the entire five months in advance. But the if only didn’t matter. She had paid the money and had to face the current situation as it stood, rather than the way she wanted it to be.

  The memory of Blake’s delicious kiss continued to tingle through her all the way to her toes. Her entire body vibrated with pent up sexual desire. No way could she lie to herself and pretend she didn’t want him in every way possible. But for now, clearer heads needed to prevail. She needed to make the best of the obviously awkward situation.

  He gestured toward the ocean. “We have the beginnings of a beautiful sunset.”

  “Shouldn’t we be preparing dinner?”

  He stared at her for a moment. “You consider relaxing an
d taking in the beauty of a sunset a waste of time?”

  “It doesn’t seem a very constructive use of time when other things need to be done.” The disapproval of his stare burned into her, but it only reinforced her opinion that she was right.

  “You know…” He reached out and touched her cheek with his fingertips, sending a tremor of desire through her body. “You’ll be so busy working for tomorrow, that one day you’ll wake up and realize your only memories are of empty yesterdays.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment. Turmoil and confusion filled her consciousness. What he’d said was completely wrong and in direct opposition to everything she held dear. So why was her stomach doing flip-flops?

  She brushed away the imaginary tendril of hair and tried to assert herself. “You’re wrong. You shouldn’t waste time drifting through life without purpose, as if tomorrow will never come. Perhaps that philosophy works for you now, but one day you’ll be the one who wakes up and finds he has nothing in life.”

  “There’s no guarantee you’ll have a tomorrow.” He turned back toward the horizon.

  She didn’t understand the sadness and despair that filled his voice, but it tugged hard at her emotions. In an attempt to avoid the unexpected upheaval bubbling inside her, she turned the conversation to what she hoped would be a safer topic.

  “Well, I guess the next order of business is dinner.” She forced an upbeat attitude, one she didn’t feel. “Let me prepare the meal. It’s the least I can do to repay you for your generosity. I’ll keep an accurate listing of my portion of the expenses and reimburse you fully. I don’t want you to be inconvenienced by this temporary situation…at least not any more than you already have been.”

  What she found in his refrigerator and cupboards came as a pleasant surprise—fresh fruits and vegetables, along with chicken and fish, a nice selection of herbs and spices for cooking. Apparently his kitchen skills were a lot more advanced than just popping something frozen into the microwave. She also noted several bottles of good quality wine. He may be nothing more than a kite-flying, unemployed beach bum, but somewhere along the line he had cultivated a taste for gracious living.