“I don’t wear lipstick, but I do have lip gloss.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a tube that glittered pink. Making a show of it, she unscrewed the cap and just before she put it between her teeth said, “Should I unbutton you, too?”
His gut tightened and blood rushed south of his navel. Hell yeah, she should unbutton him. He moved the coffee table out of the way and spread his arms in a show of surrender. “Absolutely.”
Sophie with a side of vixen was a damn fine sight. She got down on her knees in front of him and one by one, unbuttoned his shirt. Her tongue slid back and forth across her lower lip while she worked. Add torturing him with buttons to the list of things she could do with those nimble fingers of hers. Once she had him undone, she spread his shirt wide. Her gaze darted from his abs to his eyes and back down again. She put the lip gloss between her lips and bent over his knees, but his legs were long, and she was petite, so she couldn’t reach all the way.
He spread his legs. She fell between them, quickly nestling her body more comfortably against the couch. Good thing he wasn’t sitting at the edge or she’d be huddled against his growing erection, and no way would he be able to remain a gentleman.
The first touch of the tip to his stomach sent a shudder through him. He had no idea why. Okay, he did. Sweet, sexy, sensual Sophie was autographing his abdomen. He’d given thousands of autographs over the years, a good chunk of them to body parts, but this was the first time anyone had written on him. And because it was Sophie at the hands of a dare, it made it a moment he’d never forget.
Afraid he’d reach out and brush a finger down her neck, he lifted his arms and laced his fingers behind his head. Despite their clothing and the fact that they weren’t physically touching each other anywhere, this ranked as one of the most erotic diversions he’d had the pleasure of experiencing.
She lifted up and took the lip gloss out of her mouth. She studied her work before meeting his eyes.
“Nice,” he said, taking a brief peek. He waited for her to change position, move back to the couch and pick up her cards, do something other than stay right where she was.
“Well?” she said softly.
He frowned in confusion.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me now?”
…
Sophie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest that all she heard was the pumping in her ears while every other real-world sound vanished. Zane stared at her. The creases in his forehead relaxed, but he didn’t smile or smirk. Didn’t waggle his eyebrows. Didn’t look at all like the cocky surfer she thought she’d see when she asked him to kiss her.
Nope. He wore a thoughtful expression mixed with surprise, or maybe that was apology? How had she been so wrong about his signals? You’re a novice at this, that’s how.
“Kidding,” she said. And started to move away.
He trapped her between his legs. His big, warm hands landed on her upper arms. “No you’re not.”
Great. Calling her on her lie. A move she had no clue how to respond to, since she didn’t normally lie. Or flirt with the world’s hottest surfer. Or ask to be kissed.
Shoot her now.
Instead, one of Zane’s hands moved to the small of her back and the other moved to cup her cheek. “I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to kiss you, Sophie.”
Heart meet hammer. Heart meet hammer. “You looked—”
“Like a guy who doesn’t want to screw this up.”
She swallowed the heap of nerves his admission stirred. Like he could screw up a kiss. Or be as nervous as she was. Or think anything he did would be short of spectacular. “But—”
“I only get one first kiss with you.” He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone.
It was official. She’d never crushed harder on anyone in her life. Zane had her floating on air and planted firmly between his thighs with the biggest case of desire ever.
They stared at each other a moment longer before he put two fingers under her chin and pulled her mouth to his. His lips brushed hers gently and her head spun with butterflies. “You’re too good for the likes of me, you know,” he whispered over his featherlight touch.
“That’s not true,” she whispered back and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer.
He tasted like honey and sweet sauce, and she smiled against his kiss, knowing what his favorite foods this evening had been. They’d been hers, too. Until now. Until Zane’s soft yet firm lips moved over hers with delicious pressure. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world. Joy and rapture mingled at the base of her spine, and she found herself straining to eliminate any space between them.
Zane scooted to the edge of the couch. He slid the hand on her cheek to the back of her head, pressed his other palm against her lower back, and brought her flush against him. Against his bare chest. And against his—gulp—hardness. Heat surged through her in the most wicked way as his thick length touched her stomach. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Intense pleasure coiled in her belly and spread wildly.
His mouth opened, nudging her lips apart, and she let him in. He tangled his tongue with hers and made it impossible for her to breathe without him.
The kiss took turns at tender, hot, relentless. She loved them all. She could kiss him all night, the passion and intensity always there—in her mind, her body, her heart. This was the kind of first kiss she’d dreamed about.
His arm tightened around her, he tilted his head a little more to the left, and oh heavens above, his tongue and mouth did things that made her moan. Nothing—nothing!—had ever felt so good.
She shimmied against him, her pulse sped up, she let out a moan of pleasure.
He seemed to like her response because he groaned in return and deepened the kiss. He kissed her like he needed her air too, and a heady feeling swooped over her. She didn’t just have a crush on Zane. She liked him. Really, really liked him.
Her fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck before she slipped her hands under his shirt and ran them across his shoulders. Smooth, hot, muscled, he’d most definitely been carved from something one-of-a-kind. The hold on her back inched lower, lower, until he had her bottom firmly in the cup of his hand. The feverish sensations between her legs intensified.
Then he grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. He nipped and teased, ran his tongue across the seam, before he slid his tongue back into her mouth where he once again stroked her until everything inside her melted.
They kissed for the longest time. She wished for it to never end, wished to be greedy and keep his mouth on hers until he couldn’t remember anyone else’s kiss. She knew he’d just wiped out every other kiss she’d had. Knew deep down in her soul that no one would ever compare to Zane.
Her Mr. Right Now.
Don’t forget that, Sophie.
As if he sensed a slight hesitation in her mood, he broke the kiss.
They were both breathing hard. His eyes were glazed. Were hers? She blinked a whole bunch, just in case. He wound a strand of hair at the curve of her neck around his finger.
Words got caught in her throat. Should she thank him? Tell him he’d just rocked her world? Or say nothing and get up and go?
“You look well-kissed, Sophie Birch.”
“I am.”
“Me, too. Now I’d better get you back to your hotel.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She had a feeling he was trying to be a gentleman, and she didn’t want him to be. But she couldn’t muster up the nerve to ask for more.
…
“You look different,” Honor said, leaning her elbow on the table, chin on the heel of her hand, eyes a little unfocused. Glorious sunrays shined down on her at their outdoor table at the Happy Harpoon, yesterday’s rainy weather long gone.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sophie said, loving the feel of the cold sand between her toes. Maybe the soft grains would do the trick and cool her down. Ever since Zane had dropped her off at her hotel last
night and given her another killer kiss, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him or some of the more fascinating truth or dares she’d read.
Describe the sexiest dream you’ve ever had. That would be the one she’d had last night about Zane.
If I were handcuffed to the bed, what would you do to me? She’d wanted to ask Zane that question so badly last night, but he hadn’t asked for the right number.
Have you ever climaxed while fully clothed? She’d been so aroused last night that no doubt a few more minutes of kissing and touching and she would’ve had her first orgasm not at her own hand. She wasn’t a virgin, but the two men she’d been with hadn’t done that for her. Hadn’t really tried. Zane’s potency—not to mention his teasing—had her right on the edge with his darn smile.
“Okay, you need to stop that right now.” Honor pointed and waved her finger in the air.
“Stop what?”
“Looking like you’ve got a secret lover and you’re meeting him in an hour.” She crinkled her brows. “You don’t, do you? You’d tell me, right?”
Sophie’s face burned. “Well, does my Mr. Right Now count?”
Honor’s eyes widened. “Something happened last night, didn’t it?” She bent forward, putting her face closer to the table.
Midge arrived with their egg white scrambles, toast, and strawberries. The plate with a giant sticky bun was a surprise. “Don’t argue with me,” Midge said. “You can’t leave White Strand without trying one, Sophie.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said and picked up her fork. “It looks delicious.” Then to Honor she said, “I’ll fill you in later. Promise.” She hadn’t really processed all of it, her mind in dizzying chaos that made her pulse race. He thought she was beautiful.
“Okay.”
“Will you tell me what’s up with you and Bryce?”
“Nothing’s up.” Honor shoveled a huge bite of eggs into her mouth.
Sophie didn’t push people to talk about things they didn’t want to. Especially if those things appeared to cause anxiety, and Honor’s pretty complexion had turned waxen.
“Thanks for all your help so far this week,” Sophie said. She looked over Honor’s shoulder toward the beach and sparkling water. Sculptors in today’s sand castle competition were already busy at work.
“Everyone is really pleased with how great things are going. You’re heading to the Town Stage Theater this morning, right?”
“Yes. I’m excited to kick off today’s series of films there.” The small, cozy venue a mile down Main Street was a favorite of the older surf legends, and many of them would be in attendance.
“I’ll introduce you to my great-uncle.”
“I had a feeling you might be related to Tucker Mitchell.” Tuck, as Sophie had learned he liked to be called, had been one of the best surfers back in the ’70s. “Don’t ask me why. It’s not as if your last name is really unique.”
“Just keep an eye on his hands.” Honor took a sip of her POG juice—pineapple, orange, guava, and very yummy.
“His hands? Why?”
“He likes to cop feels.”
Sophie laughed. “I don’t think I have to worry about that.”
Honor studied her. “You do, Sophie. You were pretty when you got here, but now you’re glowing. The beach agrees with you.”
The praise filled Sophie with gratitude. “I’ve sort of fallen in love with it.”
“Are you sure that’s all you’ve fallen for?”
“Shh,” Sophie whispered, not sure the shush was a keep it down or a don’t be silly. And since she didn’t want to examine that too closely, she decided it was time to get going to the theater a little early.
“You going to eat that piece of sticky bun?” Honor asked.
“It’s all yours. I need to head out.” She hugged Honor before she left and caught up with Midge to pay the bill.
Shoppers, beachgoers, and surfers freckled Main Street as Sophie made her way to the cable car stop for the short ride to the Town Stage Theater. Looking around the quaint street where old mixed with new, the funky and warm feeling the town called forth swept over her with the ocean breeze. White Strand had diversity, energy, magnetism she’d miss when she went back home.
The cable car’s bells rang as it came to a stop. She hopped on and was greeted with several “hellos” from strangers. “Hi,” she called back, delighted with the kindness. Her hometown might be friendly, but not like this.
She moved to the back of the car, wrapped her hand around the handrail, and braced herself for a stand-up ride. Just before the cable car jerked forward, more “hellos” sounded from over her shoulder. The masculine, sexy “hey” in return had her spinning around.
Zane.
He strode right toward her, high-fiving the other riders who put up their hands. “Morning,” he said as he wrapped one arm around the handrail and the other around her waist.
“Morning.” She almost got up on tiptoes to kiss him before remembering she couldn’t just do that.
Bouncing with the not-so-smooth ride of the cable car, though, caused all sorts of nice friction between their bodies. His gray T-shirt with some retro design on the front felt good. His gaze slid to her chest.
“Zane!”
“Yeah?” he said, cool as a cucumber and tucking his chin a little tighter, eyes still in the downward dog.
“Are you trying to look down my blouse?”
“Yeah.”
She rushed a hand to cover the teensy bit of cleavage left exposed by the button-down silk shirt.
“Too late,” he teased, eyes lazily lifting to meet hers. “Are your panties black too?”
Holy snap peas. Was this how things would be now that they’d kissed? Was he hinting at wanting more? Maybe he’d slept on it and decided to forget the gentlemanly thing and take things further.
“Yes.” She stuck her neck out, just a little bit, and inhaled his delicious scent.
“Did you just sniff me?”
“You smell good.”
He lowered his head and, with his lips grazing that delicate spot under her earlobe, said, “You do, too, and I want to breathe in every part of you.”
Unthinking, she fisted the front of his shirt to keep herself upright. Quivers tobogganed down her body, surging and spreading to all her girl parts. “I don’t know what to say to that,” she murmured.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
She buried her face in the crook of his neck. That seemed like a good move. He held her in place and her mind buzzed once again with the crazy notion that she was right where she belonged. The cable car wrenched to a stop, breaking them apart.
“This is me,” she said.
“Need an escort?”
“Sure. I’m going to the Town Stage Theater.”
They hopped off the ride with most everyone else. Zane nodded toward the sea and a dirt path. “Down that walkway, there’s a great beach for sunbathers and swimmers. The tide breaks far from shore and the backwash is tame, so it’s a good place to bring kids, too.”
“Is there any part of the coastline you don’t know?” Sophie asked.
“A spot or two.” He picked up her hand and they walked toward the beautiful Spanish-style landmark theater.
“Zane, what are we doing?”
“Enjoying each other.”
“Until we say good-bye?” Three more days. That’s all they had, and she was definitely on board with making them count.
“Until then, yeah.” He faltered over the yeah. “And before I forget, if you see Tuck Mitchell, keep away from him. You’re right up his alley.”
She chuckled. “So I’ve been told. Honor warned me about him. He’s her great-uncle.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess you don’t have to warn Honor, then.”
Sophie laughed again. They stopped at the entrance to the theater and she took a moment to soak it in. The lush landscape caught gleaming sunlight through
the large palm tree fronds that loomed like mushroom caps atop the tall trunks. Flowers flourished up the walkway and the sweet scents of varied blossoms, most notably jasmine, filled her senses.
“What are you up to today?” she asked, not quite ready to let go of his hand.
“Hanging with the surf team later this morning. A meeting with the co-founder of SHE for lunch, and then I’ll see you at the bonfire and screening tonight.”
She squeezed his hand. “You don’t need any luck, but I’ll say it anyway. Good luck with your meeting.”
“Thanks. This one’s just an informal meet-in-person kind of thing.”
“Those are usually the most important. First impressions and casual chats can seal a deal before a deal’s even been brought to the table. Just be you and they’ll see how much you want to use surfing to make the world a better place.”
Zane ran his free hand through his unruly, sexy hair. “I’m trying like hell not to be nervous,” he admitted.
“Maybe I can help? Just plant a few things in your mind that you can use if you need them. Because you really can do this, Zane.”
“Shoot.”
“Well, considering oceans cover approximately seventy-two percent of the earth’s surface, the potential for surf activism is huge. SHE’s the biggest nonprofit, right? And they’ve been around for how long?”
“Twenty-five years.”
“A lot has changed in twenty-five years. Are you on Twitter or Instagram?” He shook his head. “Facebook?”
“Danny’s set up a fan page or something.”
“You’ve got a gazillion fans, Zane, young and old. But I’ve seen how much kids get the biggest smile out of you. And I know it’s cliché, but kids are our future. How do you get them involved? Through social media. Make yourself and SHE accessible. Encourage them to tweet, message on their walls, post pictures on Instagram. Create events around them. They’ll bring their parents. Their parents will tell their friends. One of SHE’s main goals is to promote natural healing, right? My cousin’s daughter has cystic fibrosis and she’s been taking her to a woman who uses swimming as a natural treatment and it’s really helped not only her body, but also her mind. I wonder what putting her in the ocean would do.”
Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 14