Never With You (The Never Series Book 6)

by Anie Michaels

  “If you spend the afternoon with him and only manage to tell him your mother thinks he’s sexy, well, I fear I’ve done you wrong, my dear daughter. You should be spending your time trying to bed him.”

  “Bed him?” I laughed again, shocked. “Only my mother would use the terms sex on a stick and bed him within minutes of each other.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about Talia bedding him,” Angela said quietly.

  I shot her another look, only that one was much more of the What the Hell variety. My mother’s mouth gaped open and her gaze landed on me, eyes wide.

  “Have you slept with the handsome neighbor, Talia Marie?”

  Oh, damn. Middle name.

  “Mom, I don’t think—”

  “Talia, I don’t need explicit details, but I think we’re all adult enough to have a rational conversation about the sex you’re having with the neighbor.” Her words were firm and her stare was on point. I never thought I’d feel pressure to talk to my mother about my sex life, but in that moment, I had little other choice.

  “Okay. Yes, I’ve slept with him. But just once. Last night.”

  Angela gave some excited claps from her chair, smiling widely.

  “This is very good news,” my mother stated, as though I’d just told her I had a cavity-free dental check-up.

  “Please tell me you’re going to sleep with him again,” Angela begged.

  “I, uh, well, I’m not sure. I mean, I think that’s the plan.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a little sex just because,” my mother added, still stabbing her salad with her fork. “You don’t have to be seriously committed to every person you sleep with, Talia.”

  “I know,” I said, a little defensively.

  “I slept with a few men before I met your father, and I think that was a smart choice on my part. I never had to wonder if I was missing anything in the bedroom department.”

  “Mom, no,” I cried, covering my ears. “I really don’t want to hear about you and Dad having sex.”

  “Why not? I won’t go into specifics. All I’m saying is that it’s healthy to experience the act of sex with different men.”

  “I’ve been with five men,” Angela added, obviously taking my mom’s side. “Brody being the fifth.” She brought her martini glass to her mouth, sipping slowly, then continued. “I agree with your mom. If I hadn’t been with those other men I would have never been able to tell whether or not my connection with Brody was different, or better. I don’t think we’re saying you need to sleep with a bunch of men, but there’s nothing wrong with having safe, consensual, casual sex with someone. Especially now.”

  “What do you mean, now?”

  “Well, now that you’re single again. The worst thing you could do would be to lock yourself away and isolate yourself.”

  “I don’t isolate myself.”

  Angela glared at me. “You do.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll make sure I have lots of sex with him while I’m here. I’ll let him know you both approve.”

  “Oh, Lord, do not tell your father you’re sleeping with the neighbor.”

  My eyes went crazy wide. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Your brother either,” Angela added.

  “I wasn’t really planning on telling anyone, so unless you two open your mouths about it, the secret should be safe between us.”

  “Well, good. It would ruin your father’s vacation if he knew you were having sex.”

  “Likewise,” I snorted.

  A few hours later I was finally walking on to the beach. My mother continued to grill me about Briggs, all the while Angela prodded for information. I tried not to give away too much—things you wouldn’t want your mother knowing about your sex life—but I had to admit, their interrogation made me less nervous about meeting him. I was too focused on getting away from them and their questions that I was practically running toward the ocean.

  I wore my red bikini like he’d asked, but I had my loose, white, crocheted cover-up on over it. The sand was hot against my feet, warmed by the hot afternoon sun, and the wind from that morning was gone. I absolutely couldn’t stop the smile that formed on my lips when Briggs’s form came into view. He was standing next to two surf boards that were sticking straight up out of the sand. His body was covered by his wetsuit, but it took no time for my mind to conjure up all the images of his naked body I’d seen from the night before.

  He must have been looking for me because he turned around when I was still out of earshot, with about fifty yards between us. He rested one hand atop the surfboard closest to him and his other hand came to his hip, and he watched me as I walked toward him.

  “You made it,” he said as I stopped with just a foot between us.

  “Here I am.” I held a hand up over my brows, trying to block the bright sun as I looked up at him. “Am I here to watch you surf? ’Cause I could totally be on board with that plan.” Watching him surf before had been ridiculously sexy and I hadn’t even known him then.

  “Sort of. I’m going to teach you how to surf.”

  My face pulled back and brows drew together in surprise. “Uh, I don’t think so. There’s very little in this world that would compel me to enter the Pacific Ocean. It’s freezing, Briggs.”

  “That’s what wet suits are for.”

  “I don’t have a wet suit.”

  “Is that the only reason? The water temperature?”

  “I repeat, it’s freezing.”

  “Okay, well, if that’s your only complaint, I’m happy to tell you that I have a wet suit for you to borrow. No need to thank me.” Sure enough, Briggs reached down into a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting next to his board and pulled out a wet suit.

  “Oh, my word.”

  “That’s right. We’re getting you up on a board.” His smile was adorable and made my belly flutter with warmth.

  “Okay.” I sighed, realizing I had lost the battle before it started.

  Fast forward twenty minutes and Briggs unabashedly watching me shimmy myself into a wetsuit, and he had me closer to the water, which looked ridiculously cold. I watched as he drew a very rough outline of a surfboard on the sand.

  “Okay, it’s simple really. You lie down on the board, wait for a wave to come in, then paddle as hard as you can, and right before it breaks under you, you pop up and ride it in. Sounds easy, right?”

  “Not really,” I deadpan.

  “It’s easier to learn through trial and error, but it’s smart to go through the basics on land just in case. So, lie down on your stomach.”

  “On the sand?”

  “Yeah, firecracker, on the sand.”

  I rolled my eyes but did as he said. He knelt next to me and placed his hand on the small of my back, applying a small amount of pressure. Even through the thick layer of neoprene of the wetsuit, his hand against me still sent shocks of electricity through my body. I definitely remembered what his hands felt like on my skin and I was currently cursing the frigid waters of the Pacific that made the wetsuit necessary.

  “So, like I said, you’re just going to be waiting for a good-sized wave. They’re not going to be huge here, but you’ll be able to tell a good one from a bad one. Wait for a good one. Surfing takes a lot of energy and if you go after small waves you’ll just tire yourself out. When a good wave comes, you’re going to paddle to get in front of it, yeah? So, show me how you paddle.”

  I rolled my eyes again, but smiled too, and started to pantomime paddling in the ocean.

  “Very good.” His voice was low and husky and I held my breath as his hand slid over my ass.

  “I feel like you’re taking advantage of your instructor role.” I tried to sound authoritative, but the words came out breathy.

  “Really? I always thought positive reinforcement was a good teaching method.” The smile was evident in this voice and I wanted to call him a smartass, but I refrained. “Okay, so you’re paddling and now it’s time to pop up. Use your hands to push
yourself up, stay low, and keep your feet a little wider than shoulder width apart. Got it?”

  “Okay,” I said with less surety than I felt. His hand disappeared from my body. I pushed myself off the sand and attempted to pop up like he’d instructed. And I felt like an idiot. Luckily there weren’t many people on the beach, but it was still a little mortifying pretending to surf on my imaginary board. My thoughts were interrupted by Briggs’s hands gripping my waist on either side.

  “Lower,” he said, his lips suddenly right next to my ear, as he used his hands to pull my hips. “The lower your center of gravity, the easier it will be to balance.” His fingers dug into me as he tugged me lower still. “Bend your knees. Arms out.” I followed his instructions and felt him press closer into me from behind. “So now, I want you to practice popping up and getting into this position as fast as you can. After you’ve done it fifteen times to my satisfaction, we can move into the water.”

  Thirty minutes later I was exhausted and sweaty, but I’d managed to improve my pop up and Briggs deemed me water-worthy. I knew the water would be cold, but I was so hot from the workout, I welcomed the frigid bath.

  Briggs handed me my board, took his, and we walked out to the water. When we were thigh deep, he laid his board on the water and I followed suit.

  “Climb on,” he said, rapping his hand on the hard surface of my board.

  I gave him a hesitant look but climbed on. It was terribly ungraceful and I felt like an idiot, but I made it on and then watched as he effortlessly slid up onto his. He started paddling and then looked over his shoulder at me.

  “Let’s go,” he said with a nod toward the water.

  I sighed but paddled after him. Who was I kidding? I’d probably follow him anywhere. And it wasn’t a bad view either.

  When he finally stopped paddling I realized we were farther out into the ocean than I’d ever been without the protection of a boat. Suddenly the dark water was a little frightening. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and I copied him, still freaking out about my feet dangling in the water.

  “Are there sharks here?”

  I heard him try to stifle a chuckle.

  “No sharks will get you,” he said, still laughing a little.

  “That’s not what I asked you,” I grumbled.

  “You’ll be fine. Okay, so, why don’t you watch me go once, and then I’ll come back and you’ll give it a try?”

  “Okay.” I watched as he faced his board toward the shore and looked over his shoulder at the waves coming in. He seemed to spot one he liked because he started paddling and then it was just as he described. His arms propelled him through the water until the wave was right below him and then suddenly he was standing, using his body to maneuver the board through the water. I watched in awe, totally impressed by the show—it was even better up close. He rode the wave until it seemed to disintegrate beneath his board, then he dove into the water, popping up a few moments later and shaking the water from his hair. He grabbed his board with one hand, but his eyes found mine and he smiled.

  God, he was beautiful.

  He smiled the entire time he was paddling back toward me and it only grew brighter as he came to float next to me.

  “That was incredible,” I said, still in awe of his ability.

  “Your turn.” He sat up on his board again and ran a hand through his wet hair.

  “I can guarantee you I won’t be any good at this.”

  “Probably not on the first try, no. But you might surprise yourself. Look, there’s a good wave coming.”

  I looked over my shoulder and sure enough there was a wave coming that was considerably bigger than the last few had been. I sighed but started paddling anyway. I tried looking behind me to see how close the wave was after a few strokes and was surprised to see Briggs paddling along next to me.

  “In about four seconds you’re gonna want to pop up, firecracker.”

  I counted to four and felt the board dip in a new way and took that as my cue. I placed my hands flat on the board and pushed up at the same time as I brought my feet forward. Fortunately, my feet hit the board at the same time and I felt relatively balanced, so I tried to stand. As soon as my hands left the board I was headed for the water. But there were about two seconds where I felt as though I was soaring.

  Hitting the water was jarring, but not terrible, and when I popped through the surface, gasping for air, I could hear Briggs immediately.

  “You were so close, Talia! You were almost there. Come on, try again.”

  His excitement was contagious and I found myself smiling at him, wanting to give it another go. I pulled myself back up onto my board and paddled after him.

  Two hours passed filled with Briggs teaching me to surf. He was a good instructor, never losing his patience, even when I made the same mistake of popping up too soon what seemed like a million times. I got up on my feet a couple of times and I could understand why people surfed; it was exhilarating. I felt powerful and inconsequential at the same time. It was almost as if I owned the waves, controlled the sea, but at the same time knew I was completely at its mercy. Each time I saw a little success Briggs was clapping and hollering from atop his board, which was completely adorable.

  Every once in a while, I think he could tell I needed a rest, so he’d ride a few waves, giving me the opportunity to watch him. It was incredible, the way he owned his board. The last wave he’d ridden almost all the way to the shore, only abandoning his board when the wave finally died. He stood, the water only coming to the middle of this thigh, and waved me toward him.

  I paddled, catching one last wave and practically squealing with delight when I stood up and counted to eight before falling in the water.

  “And you thought you wouldn’t be any good,” he said as I finally made it to him.

  “Oh, please, that wasn’t good. That was passable.”

  “Pretty damn passable for a first try.”

  I would have blushed if I wasn’t so cold. Paddling and swimming kept me pretty warm for the past few hours, but now, with half my body out of the water, the cold was setting in.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  I realized it was close to dinner time, almost past, in fact.

  “Yeah. I could eat.”

  “You like pizza?” he asked, head cocked and grin on his lips.

  “I do.”

  “Good, ’cause my kitchen is not ready for cooking. Come on,” he said, nodding toward his house. “We’ll go dry off and I’ll order in.”

  I could find no good reason to argue.

  We both grabbed our boards and walked back to the spot on the beach where his bag waited with my cover-up and flip-flops. He packed it all up and put the handle of the bag over his shoulder, picked up his board, and then grabbed my hand in his. We continued away from the ocean, toward his house, walking over the dune, through the path lined with tall grass, and eventually his house came into view.

  When we got close to the house, I started toward the left, heading to the front door, but he gently pulled on my hand, leading me to the right. He walked me to the back of the house, the side that faced the ocean, and leaned his board against the house, then took my board from me and did the same. He left the bag by the boards, then took my hand and tugged me farther around the house. Finally, I realized where we were going when I noticed a cement slab and a shower nozzle jutting out from the house.

  Without any words or explanation, he pulled on the handle to turn the water on and adjusted the temperature, using his hand to test the water. When it had apparently met his desired temperature, he turned me around until my back was facing him and I felt him tugging down the zipper on the back of my wetsuit. His hands grasped each side of the neoprene and he pulled the suit over my shoulders and down my arms. I pulled up, helping to free my arms, and with a little effort he got the suit peeled down to my waist.

  He turned me slowly, pulling me into the warm spray of the water, and I leaned back out of habit, letti
ng the water cascade through my hair. When I opened my eyes again, after smoothing my hair back from my face, Briggs’s eyes were roaming over every exposed part of me. While I liked the fact that he was looking at me, I didn’t think it was fair.

  “Turn around,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

  He spun around and I gripped the zipper, pulling it down slowly, enjoying all too much watching the muscles of his back appear. I slipped my fingers under the wetsuit and moved my hand up his shoulder blades, feeling all the corded muscle in his back. I tried to push the wetsuit over his arms, but I wasn’t as strong as he was and the suit snagged just over his shoulders. He took over, peeling one arm out at a time as he turned back to me. Faster than I thought possible his arms were free and he was closing the distance between us, his hands coming up to frame my face and his lips crashing down on mine.

  Instantly his tongue pushed into my mouth and I welcomed it, groaning at the salty taste of him. He tasted like the sea and man and it was incredibly arousing. Hell, mostly everything about Briggs was arousing. He walked me backward until I was pressed up against the house, his hands moving to span my waist, his mouth still devouring mine. Slowly his hands moved up my body until his thumbs stopped just below the triangle of my bikini covering each breast.

  “Ever since you walked onto the beach today I’ve wanted to peel this scrap of fabric off you.” He breathed the words against my lips, not even pulling away far enough to speak without our lips touching. His tongue darted out and grazed my bottom lip, gently swiping across, and I heard myself moan.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind I was trying to figure out if anyone from the beach could see us. The sun was setting, so it was getting darker, and the dune would block most of us from view. I simply didn’t care enough to stop him.

  His thumbs snuck under the edge of my bikini top, gently caressing the underside of my breasts. I gasped against his mouth then reached out and pulled him closer, one hand grabbing his bicep, while the other wound around his neck. I let my fingers thread through his wet hair and I heard him groan quietly. Slowly, his thumbs made another pass, this time passing right over both of my nipples. My pulse was thundering through my body, throbbing between my legs, and warmth flooded through me.