The island, despite being one of the largest that the Maldives had to offer, no longer felt big enough to contain the two of them. He grew frantic to break free; to swim until his lungs collapsed, to expend some of the pent-up energy that being marooned with Shelly had built up inside him. Night after night, he had to pleasure himself, something that he thought he'd left behind along with his teens and wet dreams. Guy decided there was nothing else for it; he would just have to ignore her. It was then that he looked up, only to see her approach around the nearest fisherman's boat. Her gorgeous legs were invitingly bare. In that second, he determined that he wasn't a man destined to have an easy life.
Her head swung in his direction, and she stopped, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. Her long thick hair was braided and caught up by a frilly, black bow at the back of her neck. Sunlight found the reddish strands, turning them to gold. Guy was tempted to release that bow and watch the silk of her hair fall loose against her neck. His groin burned and he had to fight the urge, right there and then, not to take a tumble with her in the sand, so much for ignoring her.
"Hi.” He cleared his throat and Shelly realized she'd been staring.
"What? Oh, err, hi.” She cursed herself for sounding like a complete buffoon, but she couldn't help it. Seeing his naked muscled chest must have short-circuited something crucial in her brain.
I asked, “What brings you out here?"
She could do this. He was just a man, for God's sake.
"I have a diving lesson.” She paused and took a deep breath. At least she'd been able to make some sense this time. A little calmer, she launched into an explanation. “I booked it about an hour ago, but I was told it would be okay. I'm early though. Maybe my instructor's not here, which is good because I—"
Like a blazing comet lighting up the blackness of the night sky, the truth dawned on Guy. Shelly was his early diving appointment, Mark, the dimwit that he was, had obviously forgotten to pencil in her name on the register, since he certainly hadn't seen it. He really would like to strangle his friend, for Mark had left him in an impossible position. It was hard enough trying to avoid Shelly without having to spend the next half hour with her dressed in a rubber wetsuit. His body responded to the idea; and Guy took a deep breath and did his best not to get an erection.
Shelly clamped her mouth shut and let a breath out through her nose. Jeez, girl. Think you could let him get a word in, huh? She mentally berated herself for nearly boring him to death. What would a hunky bundle of male flesh care about her humdrum life? Embarrassed, she turned her head sharply away.
"Don't move, hold it right there,” Guy said, staring intently at her exposed throat.
Shelly froze, thinking he meant to brush a wandering bug from her skin. Instead, he leaned across and touched his lips to the sensitive valley of flesh beneath her chin.
Guy knew that she had stiffened. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I've wanted to do that for what seems like forever,” he said in a low voice that sent ripples of heat coursing through her.
"How long is forever?” Shelly asked in a brave attempt to try and lighten the mood. “You've only known me a few days."
"Since I first met you.” He took a step back and stood tensely, looking away. How could he tell her that she haunted his dreams, that his nights were empty without her, unless she gave him some small sign of encouragement?
Shelly was adrift. She was trembling, and in need of an anchor. Part of her wanted to fall into Guy's arms, to get naked and make their two bodies one. The other part of her, the part that had been hurt by Ted's betrayal, the still aching, scared part of her wouldn't allow it. She looked along the beach past him, shading her eyes from the glint of the sun on the water with her hand. “I hope the instructor isn't going to be late."
It was obvious that she wanted to change the subject and Guy was quite happy to let her. He didn't understand his own feelings yet. Until he did, he didn't intend to take things further between them. “Don't worry,” he answered. “Lessons don't start till ten."
Shelly looked around puzzled. “But he's not here, and its almost ten now."
Guy watched the puzzlement on her face change to a frown, then to amazement.
"You're not honestly telling me that you're my ... I mean, the hotel's diving instructor?"
He inclined his dark head in a brief nod.
Shelly stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. “But you're a doctor?"
"Hey,” he chided playfully. “Watch it."
"Okay, I mean a surgeon. Diving instructor, it's like something out of those saucy women's novels, isn't it?"
He tilted his head and did his best to look humble “Do I fit the part?"
"Most definitely.” Shelly shut her mouth with a snap. Jeez, Great! Think you could give him anymore of a compliment? Why don't you tell him that his ass looks great and his eyes are oh, so sexy while you're at it?
Far too pleased by her words for comfort, Guy pulled up a canister of oxygen.
As it always did, the ocean pulled him like a magnet. And as his eyes glided over her calm surface, he said more to himself than to the woman standing by his side, “God I can't wait to get into the water. I grew up by the sea you know, and as a kid I wanted to be a sailor. When I grew up, I decided that I wanted to help people instead, so I became a doctor. Still I couldn't imagine going a whole year without plunging into the ocean, that's why I come out here every summer for three months and teach diving, it satisfies that urge in me I had as a kid to sail the seas."
His eyes returned to her face. “Have you dived before?"
"No.” Shelly's voice was husky, and her breathing was too rapid, the only outward signs of nervousness she couldn't control. “I don't know if it's a good idea. Truthfully, I'm not a strong swimmer."
"Don't worry, you'll be under the water. It's much easier down there. “He looked at her with a highly arched brow, “Besides, you did all right yesterday."
For a second, she plainly saw desire in the deep depths of his cobalt blue eyes, desire for her. Choosing to ignore it, Shelly looked away.
"So how many lessons do you normally teach in a day?” she asked, trying to mask her discomfort.
He looked from the sparkling turquoise sea back to her face. “As many as I can possibly fit in. Diving gives me a real warm glow."
Something in his eyes made her think he was contemplating a way he could make her glow, as well.
Swallowing at the thought, Shelly creamed her panties. Hell, at this rate, if she kept going, she would have none left. She had brought more than what was needed to last the two weeks of her holiday. But since meeting Guy, she was going through sometimes three pairs a day. She wondered if it would be possible to buy some soap powder to handwash some of her panties. Then almost smiling at her foolishness, she reminded herself that, on a tropical island where the only shops sold postcards that might be a bit tricky.
"You should drink something before we get started."
Shelly obediently followed him to a shaded cluster of palm trees. Overhead, the sun was hot, but they were sheltered from its rays by the cooling canopy of leaves.
Guy sat in the sand, opened a small, cool box and handed her a mineral water. She reached out and took it hesitantly. His fingers were warm and a little rough; the fleeting touch of them against her skin had her drawing in a sharp breath. “Thanks,” she smiled weakly.
He raised a questioning brow and she looked quickly away. The tension-filled silence sounded impossibly loud in her head.
Just as Shelly had begun to wonder if Guy would ever speak again in the conceivable future, he drained his drink and said, “Okay, I think we can try out some of the diving gear."
"Good.” She made to stand.
"No.” Guy gripped her wrist and said slowly. “Not good. Not yet."
She gulped, feeling herself being sucked into his eyes. “You're scaring me."
"First, you have to promise me that you will do exactly what I say from now on.” He flas
hed his dimples. “It's a matter of your safety."
"Okay, I promise.” Shelly felt like a moth drawn to a flame; his blue eyes were the ultraviolet light. His gaze sucked her in, entranced her, and if she got close enough, he'd fry her to a crisp. He could do that to her—she had no doubts about it. Then the little shriveled remains of her cindered heart would be no more. Maybe that would be a good thing.
"I'm going to kiss you.” He glanced at her, his head cocked to the side. Self-consciously, she brushed the loose tendrils of hair back behind her ears. “I'd like you to kiss me back, real soft and hungry, as if you mean it."
"You tricked me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He reached out and stroked her fingers. “I did,” he admitted quietly. “But you promised."
Shelly looked down at her dusty dress and reached out slowly, as if some inner spirit had possessed her and she was no longer in control of her actions. Their lips met in a crackling explosion of pent-up energy. Shelly closed her eyes. Her fingertips brushed the short hairs in front of his ears, while she surrendered herself to the moment. Moaning against each other, they crumpled to the sand. Guy pushed her skirt up and shoved his hand over her panties, down between the material, until his fingers collided with her curly pubic hair.
"Guy?” She gasped.
Her voice, breathless and coming in little pants, did funny things to his nerves. The erection in his briefs and the wet, sticky patches were almost more than he could bear, cold against the warmer skin of his belly button. He wanted to pleasure her first, before he lost himself in her sweetness. Caressing her pubic mound, he sat up, spread her legs wide and watched the view like a bystander in a concert, while his finger played havoc with her luscious wet pussy.
He parted her puffy lips with the short, shaved blonde hair and stuck his finger into the pinker, more succulent flesh of her slit. Her eyes closed and he withdrew his finger, languidly marveling at her tightness and the throbbing heat in his own briefs. He ejaculated a little before shoving not one, but two fingers into her tight, hot pussy. His left hand seemed very large and masculine against the exposed skin of her porcelain-skinned belly.
Pushing another finger into her, he smiled and marveled at the feelings flowing through his hand resting on her stomach. She was so small, he could even feel his fingers move in and out of her. God, he was hungry for this little woman that didn't reach his shoulder. How would she feel on his cock?
He wasn't to get the chance to know because some children, giggling in the background disturbed the moment. Shelly, hot and panting, pushed him to the side and pulled the hem of her dress down just as the group of children, kicking a football along the sand and speaking a language she didn't understand but that she imagined was probably French, came into view.
Guy grinned and murmured, “Saved by the bell, eh?"
Shelly made a wry face and sauntered off to get changed for the dive.
As she walked along the boardwalk to the women's changing room, Guy watched her fluid movements. He had a side view and couldn't help enjoying it. The way her breasts bounced beneath her flowery sundress, the slender hand that held her sandals, the sunshine that glinted off the braid that swung down her back like a clock pendulum. He brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed her musky scent, wondering what it would be like to smell his cum mingled with her scent. His cock lurched. Disgruntled, he ran his fingers quickly through his hair. Was he ever going to get to fuck her? To feel her drenched little lips gripping his cock? It seemed that when she wasn't pushing him away, something else always happened to disturb them. He was hungry for her like he'd never been for any other woman. Somehow, he knew with her, the sex would be better than fantastic, it would be ... right.
* * * *
Ten minutes later, Guy made no effort to curb the smile curving his lips upward. Seeing Shelly, half dressed, wet, alone, and waist-deep in the turquoise-green water, was making this feel like his birthday. She was his present and he wanted to unwrap her, to strip off the wetsuit she had on up to her waist and to untie the flimsy strings of her bikini top. Immediately, he realized that despite promising not to pursue her sexually, his body had other ideas. Even though she was practically a stranger, ever since he had first clapped eyes on her, there had been this sort of weird transformation within him. After that, every time he saw Shelly, he knew that it was desire that prompted him to push her, often to antagonize her and make her uncomfortable. Basically, he did anything; good, insane or even bad, just like a kid, to get her attention. Often he pushed her to admit her feelings, scared really, that perhaps, deep down, she didn't have any for him and he supposed that was bad. Yet there were times when her eyes, those green gems of hers, would meet his and he knew she felt something that had nothing to do with dislike.
"You should have told me that these wetsuits were so tight.” She chided playfully as she tried to shrug her arm into the suit. Guy knew damn well that the suit would be tight. He had specifically given her one a little smaller, so that he could better enjoy the sight of the rubber clinging to her ample curves. But to be honest, seeing her wearing the cut down version of a wetsuit, cut down meaning that the arms and legs were shorter so that the suit only reached the wearer to the elbows and just above the knees, was more than a little strain on his nervous system. The black rubber, glistening beneath the sun, clung to her curvaceous little body like a second skin. Right now, his own body was pressing him for some relief.
Logically, he reasoned he could do two things; he could fake a headache and get Mark to take over the lesson, or he could get in the water and see what would happen. Almost before he realized it, his body was already in motion. Shelly spoke immediately, but the words fell on his suddenly deaf ears.
"Oh no, Guy, your trousers will be ruined!"
Guy shook his head and looked down at his white Armani slacks, soaked to the crotch. He doubted that he would ever get the salt stains out of them. He whistled through his teeth and shrugged. “Since I'm here, I should at least help you on with that wetsuit, eh?"
Shelly shivered as he stepped up behind her. He was so big, so male, that it never failed to surprise her how much he dwarfed her, just how much smaller she was than him. Worse, it never failed to excite her. Her heart began to pound in her chest as he rubbed his hand along her bare shoulder blades and pulled the top of her wetsuit up slightly. She fought the gasp in her throat as she felt the material cut up against her pussy.
"I don't think that's going to do it. I'll have to conform it more to your body,” he murmured softly. His voice was raspy and hoarse, his eyes burning. He ran his hands down from her shoulders along the curve of her hips and around her stomach. Stepping around her, he kneeled before her. The water didn't even reach his nipples, although it reached Shelly's waist and she was standing. He began to run his hands slowly all over the front and back of her wetsuit.
She trembled as his fingers glided smoothly up and down the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He pushed the rubber material of the wetsuit hard against her pussy until it pulled tight against her clit—her muscles clenched and spasmed slightly. Her nipples hardened until they were poking against the thin material of her bikini top. She knew that he would be able to see them.
He looked up, meeting her eyes. What she saw there, reflected in their fathomless blue depths, caused a rush of wetness to flow between her legs. She ached to surrender her body to him. It was so strong that it was almost painful. Standing, he stepped behind her.
Shelly froze; her stomach was doing flip-flops. She had been so sure that Guy was going to kiss her. Every fiber of her being was shouting “yes” and she took a step back against his muscled chest. He was as solid as a rock. She could feel her heart pounding hard against her ribcage. Although she knew that she shouldn't, she desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers. She shivered as his long fingers removed the braid from the nape of her neck and brushed against the tender skin there. They evoked sensations of pleasure and warning. She heard the unmistakable s
ound of the zipper being pulled up, felt the added tightness as the wetsuit fastened over her breasts.
Then he was standing before her again. He hadn't kissed her. Was he even going to? Oh please, say yesss.
Guy knew if he didn't put some distance between them right then, he would have her wetsuit off and her shoved down on his dick, while he pumped into her, regardless of who was watching. Trying to keep his voice even, he smiled. “I should go and put my wetsuit on. I don't think Armani slacks were made for diving."
"Okay.” Shelly shrugged, failing miserably at casual. She watched him stroll to the shoreline; saw the curious look on a couple's face as they watched him walk out of the sea dressed in trousers, his chest bare. But she didn't register any of it. Only one thought was in her head and that was that he hadn't kissed her. She supposed she should be glad really, but disturbingly, she wasn't.
An hour later, after a thoroughly relaxing dive, Shelly and Guy worked together side by side, repacking the equipment they had used, while a comfortable silence reined beneath the blistering sky. Despite the fact they hadn't gone out more than four meters, Shelly had enjoyed herself immensely. She'd seen some amazing fish, blue, yellow, and even black, in the crystal clear water around the island. She couldn't wait until next time, when she would be able to visit one of the coral reefs.
"You did well today.” Guy pushed back his wet hair and took her bright green diving flippers from her.
"Thanks,” Shelly said, looking both pleased and proud at his comment. “It wasn't as difficult as I thought,” she admitted, handing him her mask.
"In fact, you've got a real gift for diving, I think,” he teased.
She looked up at him and laughed. “Isn't that the truth! I wonder if I should consider a new career as an Olympic diver. You know, one of those who only has four heartbeats a minute."
A half-smile played on his full lips, and she caught a glimpse of gleaming white teeth. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an odd sense of humor?” he continued, his gaze snagging hers and holding tight. She couldn't look away, even if she wanted to. “But I like it. So, has anyone?"
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