She took the board from him and stood it on its pins. Looked past it to the water. This was . . . her. Part of her. If she could use Sean to reclaim the sexual part of herself she’d thought long dead, then she could do this too.
More than just do it. She could kick ass at this. The surf was small, only a few feet, but she’d once been damn good. She might be out of practice, but she sure as heck wasn’t out of shape.
She gave a little nod. Her cheeks tightened against the grin that wanted to come out. And then, fuck it, why shouldn’t she smile? This was going to be awesome.
Tucking the board under one arm, she walked out into the cold, crisp water.
The welcoming ocean took her back with arms wide.
Chapter 17
Sean had put a worrisome amount of time into wondering if Annie would still be a decent surfer. He hadn’t wanted to embarrass her if she wasn’t. He’d wanted to be able to give her back the thing for which she’d been longing. He didn’t think it was too egotistical of him to think he knew what she wanted. It wasn’t as if she’d been particularly surreptitious about it, nor had he been spookily observant.
She’d stared at the water from his back deck with longing apparent in her eyes. You could even call it desire. She had that look a woman got where her mouth went slack and her eyes went needy.
There was no reason to look like that when it had something to do with the water. Not in California, when the ocean was what made the state bright and great, and people came from all over the world to be in it.
Sean had surfed the world. Washed out more sand from his shorts than he’d ever had bits of sense. When it came to getting back in the water after his injury, there was nowhere he’d rather be than San Sebastian. It was home. It was the place that had washed all his problems away the first time around. The movement of the ocean was subtle this afternoon, but that was half of San Sebastian’s appeal—its wide range of conditions.
Today was perfect for testing out his recovery.
She waded out into the water, diving in when it got deeper than her hips.
Sean followed closely behind. She’d worn only a bikini top and board shorts, so he got to watch the pale expanse of her back shift with every swim stroke. “Did you put on sunscreen?”
She paused long enough to shoot him a completely perplexed look over her shoulder. Her hair was already soaked and plastered to her forehead. She’d worn most of it in a ponytail that had turned small and scraggly in the water. “Wasn’t born yesterday, Westin. Why?”
“Because I like your skin.” He let every bit of his intent and desire for her shine through his eyes. “I’d like to lick every inch of you, and I can’t do that if you’re sunburned.”
Her breasts lifted on a fast inhale. Bright red slashed over her cheeks to her ears. “Yeah. Okay. I can work with that.”
She dove headfirst into the water, disappearing under a wave break, only to pop up again on the other side. Sean followed close behind.
The water was cold, the way it usually was this early in the season. Most of the surfers in the lineups had skipped wet suits, though one or two had on shorty versions.
“Hey, mate,” said Nate Coker, sitting on a board and floating with the bob of the ocean. “Good to see you out.”
“Just got cleared,” Sean answered with a wave of his good arm. “You remember Annie, right?”
“Sure.” Nate nodded toward her. “Gloria was talking about you after we met the other night.”
“Was she really?” Sean lifted his eyebrows. He knew Gloria and knew the tendency she had to tear other women down. It was her default mode.
Nate had the good grace to look chagrined. “She goes on a bit. Said she had no idea how Sean managed to hire you for his therapy.”
Annie had easily mounted her board. She was sitting spread-legged on it, hands planted between her knees. The black bikini had metallic squares at the top hem, giving it an almost punk-rock look. But her board shorts were dark red, and all Sean wanted to do was pull them down her legs. From there, things could go whichever direction they liked. He just appreciated Annie naked.
She cast an easy smile toward Nate. “Technically, I’ve released Sean from my care anyway, but I don’t usually work with surfers.”
“That’s what Gloria said. She’s done reams of research the last few days on you. Says you’re the best, and Sean must have worked some kind of black magic voodoo to get you to work with him.” Nate’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “When I tell her you were actually surfing, she’s gonna have a coronary. Says you ain’t done it in years.”
“She’d be right.”
“Dude, your girlfriend sounds like she’s becoming a private eye.” Sean shifted back on his ass, but not too far, so that the board didn’t go flying out from under him. He usually didn’t even have to think about balance in that way, but it had been four whole weeks since he’d been in the water, and his shoulder was still sending up occasional twinges to remind him that movement on the ocean wasn’t like movement anywhere else in the world. He didn’t want to make an ass of himself in front of anyone, but not in front of Annie most particularly. “She needs a chill pill.”
Nate shrugged. “She’s intense sometimes, but she means well.”
Sean had his own opinions about that, but the chick wasn’t his girlfriend anymore. There was a hell of a reason for that. He much preferred Annie’s laid-back style, the way she was subtly full of nudging. Gloria supervised Nate’s manager to the point of micromanaging. Annie would never even dream of doing that; Sean was sure of it. “How much does she expect out of you this year? She realizes the championship isn’t magically up for grabs just because Tanner retired, right? You’re in tenth, and once I’m back on the circuit, I’ll be launching right past you.”
“You sure about that one?” Nate arrowed a deliberate look at Sean’s shoulder. “You clear enough to surf competition? The heats are harder than fucking about on a Thursday afternoon. I leave for Fiji tomorrow. Last I heard, you were sitting that one out.”
Sean bared his teeth. “I’ll be there, Coker. Don’t worry about me. But here’s the thing—even if I wasn’t going to be there, I’d still eat you up in the points once I did show up. That’s what matters.”
“If you say so.” Nate seemed pretty relaxed a lot of the time, but half of it was an act. He was a hard driver. Someone who meant to make it to the top, and he’d only been on the ’CT for two years.
“Gentlemen, stand down,” Annie said. “One more exchange and I’m going to have to insist you guys meet for pistols at dawn. I’m here to catch my first wave in years, and I don’t want to be distracted.”
“You win,” Sean agreed. Even the ocean was behaving. He could feel the water drawing back, preparing for a new set of waves to pour in. The surge and give was subtly heart-stopping. He loved it, every time. “The next set’s coming too.”
“I know,” she said dryly. “It’s been a while, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten every scrap I knew.”
He flicked water at her, just to watch her dark lashes flutter. She wasn’t normally the fluttering type. “Excuse me for trying to help out.”
“You can help out by watching my spot in the lineup.”
“You’re good if you wanna go next,” Nate provided.
A few words down the lineup cleared the way through those waiting. They’d stretched out the length of the right-breaking wave, but since they liked seeing women surf, they let Annie go. For some of them, it came from a sexist, watch-the-ass kind of place, but for Sean and plenty of others, they moved back for women because there ought to be more of them in the surfing world.
He’d always figured surfing was an equal-opportunity sport. If he’d been able to rely on it as a scrawny, desperate teenager who was underfed half the time, then anyone could do it. While women surfers had a little less power, they usually made up fo
r it in artistry. Sean didn’t know why the women’s section of the World Championship Tour wasn’t better funded. They made less than twenty percent the prize money Sean and his buddies did on the regular ’CT.
Because as soon as she paddled out with the wave, Sean knew this was going to be a treat. Something gorgeous to watch. Her strokes were perfectly smooth despite it having been years since she’d employed them, reaching for the shore as if she were slicing into first in a swim competition.
“Right on!” Sean yelled.
Nate cheered too, as did a spatter of other surfers.
The wave was going to be a good one. He could tell by the way the water pulled and rushed, the way Annie and her board were snatched up by the force. She was there at the crest of the wave and popped up first to her knees. She balanced, shaky for a second—and Sean wondered if she’d stop there. Or even fall, maybe.
Sean almost cursed himself in that second. It was asking a fucking lot of her to expect her to be awesome on her first go. She hadn’t even warmed up, not really.
But somehow, he had known what was coming. He had known she’d be amazing.
She hopped to her feet a half second later. Her hands balanced at her hips for a heartbeat, but then she lowered into it. Her knees bent. Her ass tipped back as she offset her weight.
But he hadn’t expected Annie to be a goddess in the water.
Diana, probably. The one who held a bow and went for blood, because damn did Annie look determined.
Sean smacked the surface of the water with an open palm, sending up a celebratory splash. “Fuck yeah!”
She didn’t try for anything too fancy. Her board slipped across the front of the wave in a dropping arc, her waist and shoulders dropping out of view as Sean remained behind the wave, while she owned it.
Sean paddled after her during the very next wave, not wanting to miss the aftermath. He wanted to ride it as a matter of course, since surfing had always been as easy as breathing and because he could already see her onshore. She’d dropped her board to the sand and was standing facing the ocean. Her hands were stacked behind her head, her elbows pointed up toward the sky, and he couldn’t quite tell what her expression was. His stomach clenched. Had he fucked up, bringing her here?
Maybe he’d let himself get carried away on a hard shot of ego. Rising to his feet on the board was harder than he expected. As he balanced himself and hopped up, his shoulder twinged at holding half his body weight. He barely had control of his own life, considering the rumors and accusations he was facing. It was asking entirely too much to think that he could show Annie what she’d been missing out on in a single afternoon.
As soon as he balanced on his flat feet, riding the wave like he’d been made for it, he breathed easier. A knot released from the base of his neck. His shoulders were tight, held firmly, but it wasn’t more than he could deal with. The pain itself was a subtle warmth that edged him toward a wince. Nothing compared to where he had been.
When he got there, she was laughing. Her face pointed toward the bright sun, her ribs in stark relief. Laughter fell from her like a strand of pearls. Her joy lit her expression, opening her eyes. “Holy shit, that was awesome.”
“Yeah? It was good?” He dropped his own board to the sand without even looking to make sure he’d aimed the wax up. Because fuck, he couldn’t resist touching her.
Her skin was hot beneath the sheen of chilled ocean water that still clung to her. She was trembling under the surface. Holding his hands at either side of her waist was like containing fire within his palms. She was light. She was lightning.
“In my head, I know I’ve had better rides. Better waves.” She shook her head, flicking away water from her ponytail. Her lashes looked even darker than normal. “But right now, from right here . . . God, I’m not sure any of them matter.”
He spread his fingers across her bare waist. The sun shone on them, quickly warming her skin. Or maybe that was her from the inside out.
He kissed her. There was no way he could look at that beaming smile and not know what it tasted like.
The answer was salt and sugar. She pushed up into his kiss, rising on her toes. Her breasts brushed his chest, wet on wet, and her arms locked around the back of his neck. She didn’t weigh much, but even that slight weight drew her close. He could feel each tender ridge of her spine under his fingertips.
She broke away, then traced openmouthed attention down his throat. He managed to hold back his pleasure-spawned shiver, but goddamn, it was a close call. Her fingers dug into the tops of his shoulders, and she made a little noise in the back of her throat. “You’re going to take me inside later, Sean. And we’re going to make each other feel really damn good.”
“But not yet?”
She shook her head without moving her face from his skin. “Nope. Not yet.” She drew back far enough that he could see her liquid-fire smile. “I need something else first.”
“You need to surf.”
“You got it.” Her smile faltered for half a second. “Do you mind?”
“Why the hell would I?”
Her gaze darted back out to the water, past his shoulder. Something knotted between her brows, two little lines that he smoothed away with his thumb. “Gee, I wanna bang you, but I wanna go surf first. Some guys would be pissed at hearing that.”
He laughed, because he couldn’t help it, then locked his arm low around her back and lifted. “Those guys would be idiots if they didn’t recognize what I just saw.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re gorgeous out there, Annie. You’re beautiful everywhere, but this time I’m going to sit onshore for a few minutes and watch your next couple waves, because on the water . . .” He paused for a moment, nuzzling aside damp hair from her cheek while he thought. “On the water, you’re more than beautiful. You light up from the inside out. You’re . . . incandescent.”
Chapter 18
Even on her borrowed board, feeling the ocean snatch away her control and give her back the gift of riding a wave, Annie couldn’t get Sean’s words out of her head. She didn’t want to. Incandescent. Incandescent.
When had a man ever called her anything remotely as amazing as that?
Terry had tried. He’d been full of sweet words and promises. He’d talked about how she’d be the next big thing on the pro circuit because she had the moves and she had the looks. He’d praised her little frame, saying that she’d be inspirational for some of the younger grom girls who wanted to see surfers who looked like they did and weren’t blond bombshells. Even when he was talking her up, she felt like she was hot in an also-ran sort of way. Second-best, even to a guy who was supposedly breaking rules to date her.
Annie bobbed on her board, beyond the break. Her arms burned from swimming out past the lineup and then from paddling to catch waves. She’d already done it more times than she could count this afternoon. This was what surfing had once been like. Consuming. Obsessive.
But before, she hadn’t had Sean at her side. He cheered her on like whoa and damn. He was . . . amazing also.
True to his word, he’d watched her surf for a good half hour. Every time she’d come close enough to see him, he’d had a slight smile and a stunned look in his eyes that made her feel as dazzling as a superstar.
Taking slow, deliberate breaths, she turned her face up to the sun. Even that yellow glow felt different on her shoulders when she was in the water. She hadn’t been an indoor person in the intervening years. She’d skateboarded plenty, plus done occasional hiking. But this was . . . different.
This was what she’d needed.
Sean had given it to her.
Maybe she was foolish for having thrown away the cash Sean had offered. Firing him would set her teen center back five years. To make matters worse, there was no chance of this thing they had actually going forward in any way. As if she weren’t screwy eno
ugh, Sean was exactly the opposite of the sort of guy she wanted to settle down with. He had more secrets and issues than she did, and that was fucking saying something.
She needed someone who could balance her. Someone who could calm her down at the end of the day and make her feel safe.
Not someone who made her tingle as she came back into shore at his side. She was practically high, her endorphins rushing and turning the tips of her fingers numb.
Throwing herself to the sand was safe. The way Sean flung himself down beside her was hot. Every inch of her knew where his inches were—and where they would line up.
The sand had started to absorb the heat of the day’s sun, but an inch below the surface it was cool with the remembered chill of the water. She dug her fingers in. The stickier, damp sand beneath provided her with more resistance, but it wasn’t as if she could get a full grip anyhow. Grain by grain, sand didn’t provide resistance. You could poke and dig and scrape right through it. It was only when you smacked the shore bluntly that you were stopped by it.
Maybe Annie didn’t want to be stopped. She pushed up to her elbows, looking down at Sean. “Thanks.”
He had his eyes shut, but his mouth curved in a faintly smug smile. Golden sun kissed his forehead and his nose, but his hollow cheeks were shadowed, and not just because he hadn’t shaved. “I did good?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“Good. You’re welcome.” And with a deep breath, he let it go. That easily. He had his own shit to deal with, but at least he never put it on her. It was his own tangled mess.
She rested one hand in the center of his bare chest. He was thick with muscle, strong enough to withstand her whole weight, if she wanted to throw it at him. The water had beaded up on his skin, outlining the arc of his pecs and the sweep of his lats. A droplet broke free, sliding down the center of his chest to his abs. She wanted to follow it with her tongue. He’d taste like ocean salt. How long before she could make him taste different? Like fresh skin, licked clean, like something more?
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