Riding the Waves

by Tawny Weber

  “I like science.”

  “I like surfing,” he pointed out, “but it’s not a living.”

  “You know, I thought that myself once,” she said with an arch look.

  Alex grimaced, not willing to have that particular discussion again. Yes, he’d kept his true career from her. But she’d kept hers from him, too, dammit.

  “How about you?”

  “Me, what?” he asked.

  “Why’d you choose science over riding the waves, since that’s something you like so much?”

  He was grateful that her words were amused now, instead of angry.

  “I never considered anything else,” he said with a shrug. “Never had a chance to consider anything else, if truth be told. My grandfather is a physicist. My father was, too, although I don’t remember him. It was understood that I’d follow along.”

  “I thought your mom was…”

  He smiled. “A wandering new age fluffy bunny?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Is she really?”

  “Mom is…” Alex paused, trying to find the words that would describe the one inconsistent constant in his life.

  “Parent issues?” she asked when his pause turned into a hesitation.

  “No,” Alex shook his head. “I’m just trying to figure out how to explain a woman who uses the pendulum to plan her next road trip and tarot cards to decide what school I should attend.”

  She shot him a startled glance, then checked again as if gauging his honestly. After taking in his Boy Scout look, she asked, “Were there a lot of schools?”

  “You mentioned once that your mom kept her vegetables in flowerpots so she didn’t have to leave them behind.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I spent my elementary-school years with my shell collection in a suitcase and comic books in a backpack for exactly the same reason.”

  “Poor sweetie,” she murmured.

  Alex realized that he could run with this. The door to her sympathies was cracked open. He could totally play that. He could tell her the story about having to leave the first-place T-ball team midseason. Maybe throw in the one about how they’d moved right after he’d snagged the lead in the Christmas pageant playing the angel on high.

  He could trot out all his boyhood disappointments as sympathy-inducing, nooky-guaranteeing ammunition.

  Hell, if he threw in the fact that by eight, he’d learned to recognize his mom’s “itchy feet” vibe and stock the car with juice boxes and snacks so he’d have something to eat on those inevitable middle-of-the-night adventures, he could turn that nooky into naughty kink.

  But…

  “It wasn’t that bad,” he said instead.

  The look she shot him clearly said she didn’t believe his assertion. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t sold it well enough or if her own childhood of moving around had left her a touch bitter.

  “Did you eventually settle into one place? You know, so you could do the normal kid things. Letter in swimming, act in the school play, attend prom with your dream girl?”

  “I got to third base with a girl at science camp in Moscow when I was thirteen,” he boasted with a grin.

  She gave him the same kind of look his mom used when he’d bragged about yet another award. They had just reached the hotel, but instead of pulling up to the front door, she turned right, into the almost deserted parking lot.

  Flicking off the ignition, she turned in her seat to face him, the cutest little frown worrying her brow and a sad look of compassion puffing out her bottom lip.

  Alex shifted in his own seat, feeling a little naked. His mom had always known he’d hidden behind the boasts, too.

  “That had to be such a rough time,” she commiserated, patting him lightly on the knee. A little boy inside, one he’d thought he’d left behind decades ago, wanted to climb into her lap for a comforting cuddle.

  How freaking manly was that?

  Despite his uneasiness, he had to grin. She was so sweet. “I started college when I was fifteen,” he reminded her.

  “That’s my point. Don’t you ever feel like you missed out? Or like you have to, oh, I don’t know, prove that your willy-nilly nontraditional childhood didn’t mess you up?”

  Alex hadn’t been shipped off to college before he’d had his first shave for being an idiot. She was thinking about her issues, not his.

  “Prove to who?” he asked. “I’m doing great. I have a slew of awards, I’m one of the most sought-after physicists in the country and I call my own shots and pick the jobs I take. What’s left to prove?”

  Or maybe he did have a few issues in there, too. He winced when she shot him a look that said that yes, indeed, she’d caught his version of the he-doth-protest-too-much.

  His plan for this ride was to lure her up to his room and get her naked. To feel those amazing legs wrapped around his torso as he drove his way to heaven between her thighs. The noises he’d been hoping for were orgasmic, not sympathetic.

  Which meant it was time to change the subject.

  “Um, just one question,” she asked.

  He tensed.

  “How, exactly, does one use a pendulum to make decisions?” Her warm smile said that no matter how much he tried to blow it off, she was going to have sympathy for his childhood.

  “Swings to the left for yes, to the right for no,” he quoted the oft-heard directions. His laugh was tinged with just a hint of desperate gratitude. His gaze met the soft amusement in hers, noting how welcoming she looked with her eyes all gentle and sweet.

  Amusement faded. Passion, always simmering just beneath his surface when she was around, heated.

  Alex leaned closer and her eyes grew wide. He brushed two fingers down the silky skin of her cheek, then along her jaw to slide beneath her hair. With just those two fingers and his most seductive look, he pulled her toward him.

  Their mouths met in a slow, sweet slide of pleasure. He simply absorbed her taste. Time stopped. Space shifted. It was as if they were back on the beach. As Alex’s mouth moved in a familiar dance with Dru’s, he could almost hear the pounding roar of the waves. Or maybe that was the sound of his own heart hammering away.

  As his fingers speared through the curls loosely pinned at the back of her head, he gave in to the need that’d been shoving at him all night. He trailed his other hand—just the tips of his fingers, actually—along the smooth, bare flesh of her thigh.

  She gasped.

  He shuddered.

  Giving her pleasure was the greatest turn-on he’d ever experienced.

  Slowly, gently, he pulled his lips from hers and watched as her eyes opened. Hazy with desire, she gave him that I-give-you-permission-to-do-me princess to sex-slave look he loved so much. Unable to resist tasting more, he nibbled his way over the delicate curve of her jaw.

  God, he’d missed her. With a small grimace, Alex moved one knee along the seat to try to ease the pressure of his erection against his zipper.

  Oh, yeah, he’d missed her like crazy.

  “You’re delicious,” he whispered against her ear, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair. It reminded him of bonfire smoke and the ocean and midnight walks in a flower garden.

  Something inside him, something tucked away deep in his heart, melted a little. He had no idea what it was since he usually made a point to ignore all things heart related.

  Drucilla tilted her head to give him better access to that soft, sensitive spot there in the curve of her throat and hummed.

  “Let’s go up to my room,” he invited as he nibbled, ready to explode if he didn’t get her naked soon. Or beg, which would be much worse. Because Albert Alexander Maddow had never begged in his life. But for a taste of Drucilla, he was pretty sure he’d actually do it on his knees.

  Which would be convenient if the begging paid off, actually.

  That visual, him on his knees in front of a very naked, very turned-on Drucilla, sent a surge of passion straight down his belly and into his dick.


  “We shouldn’t…”

  Oh, no. He wasn’t letting her protest. He wasn’t even letting her out of the car. To hell with the room. He shoved the center console up and in a fast, easy move, pulled her over so she was lying half under him.

  Oh, yeah. His dick was so ready to beg.

  Alex took her mouth in a hot, wet and wild kiss before she could voice the shocked protest he saw in her eyes. One sweep of his tongue and those eyes fogged with passion and she met his kiss with equal fervor.

  Thank God. The ice queen had melted away, leaving behind the sexy fairy princess he’d fallen so hard for.

  THERE WERE PLENTY OF intelligent reasons to stop. It was totally insane, argued the protesting voice in her head. But Dru couldn’t hear a single one of those reasons over her body’s purrs of delight.

  God, she’d missed the taste of him. Two days or a million years, she knew she would have lost her mind if she’d had to go another minute without having his rich, sexy flavor on her tongue. Or worse, without feeling Alex’s magical hands, those fingers teasing and tempting her to the highest reaches of physical delight.

  She shuddered as those fingers moved higher up her thigh, sending shivers of passion coiling tightly between her legs. The kiss deepened. Heat swirled around them, throbbing desire worked its way through her system.

  Her brain warned her to stop. They were in a public place, they were colleagues, they weren’t the people they’d pretended to be when this kind of thing was okay.

  And at the same time, Alex made her want to shove him down, strip him naked and ride him in wild abandon until they both screamed in ecstasy.

  As if he could hear her thoughts, Alex flipped the switch. The sweet, almost reverent teasing changed to sexy torment. His palm slid under the hem of her skirt, nails scraping along the crease where her thighs met. Higher, higher, until his index finger traced the lacy edge of her panties.

  “I want these,” he whispered against her throat. “Take them off.”

  “You’re crazy,” she protested. But her breathless words sounded weak, even to her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “We’re in the car.”

  His finger slipped beneath the lace, flicking her wet, swollen bud of desire. Dru’s thighs went lax, spreading wider in invitation. But he didn’t take it. He pulled his hand back, fingers still tracing erotic patterns against her thighs. But he didn’t touch her. Not the way she needed.

  “Take them off,” he repeated.

  She wanted to protest. She wanted to tell him again that he was crazy. But she wanted the pleasure he offered even more. Her eyes locked on his, she lifted her hips in invitation.

  “Take them off for me,” she instructed.

  His eyes locked on hers, he straightened. He released her hair, then glided both hands, palms flat, up the length of her thigh. His fingers pressed, both hands together, at the wet, aching crux of her legs before he swept them sideways to her hips. He hooked a finger under each side and slowly, torturously, slid her panties off her hips, over her thighs and down to her knees.

  With a wicked grin, he leaned over to slip the fabric off her calves, pressing his mouth to her bare thigh while he was down there.

  A moan escaped before she could stop it. Heart racing, she met his eyes. Nerves and excitement swirled together like dervishes in her belly. Then he leaned forward again, tracing his tongue in the exact spot he’d just kissed.

  Dru swallowed, trying to wet her throat. All the moisture in her body had definitely pooled between her legs. Unable to resist, she ran her fingers through the tousled length of his hair where it lay against the back of his neck.

  Still holding her gaze, he ran his tongue along the crease where her thighs pressed together. She shivered, her fingers tightening in his hair. He held up her panties like a trophy, then dropped them on his lap before curving his fingers under her skirt and up her hip.

  He shifted, sliding up her body, leaving trails of tingling desire, until he reached her chest. He nibbled a sweet path of kisses along the deep vee of her dress at the same time his fingers found their target, swirling around her aching, wet clitoris so fast she gasped.

  One finger, then two, slid inside her. He thrust, in then out, twice, then three times while his thumb continued a sweet tormenting rhythm of her swollen bud.

  This was insane, she told herself. They needed to stop.

  Then he closed his mouth over the sensitized tip of her breast, nuzzling her fullness before he nipped at the peak.

  That’s all it took. She exploded. The climax ripped through her so fast she couldn’t even suck in enough breath to moan. Instead, she gave a keening little gasp, pressing against his hand to hold tight to the sensations rocking through her system.

  Oh, God. It was even better than she’d remembered. How was that possible? He was…everything. Too much and not enough, both at the same time.

  She needed him more than she needed air.

  “We can’t do this,” she protested when her head stopped spinning. She didn’t believe her own words, though. After all, she’d just done it quite nicely, thank you very much.

  “We not only can do it,” he said, his lips teasing her aching nipple through the thin fabric of her dress and bra. “We do it damn well.”

  He nipped through the material, sending an edgy shaft of desire spiraling through Dru’s already wet and swollen sex.

  Damned well, indeed.

  Her hips lifted of their own volition, seeking the pleasure only he could provide. More, she realized. She needed more than just his fingers.

  Greedy, she chided herself. Her body was still quaking with that delicious orgasm and still, she wanted more. She wanted him inside her. The big, hard, throbbing length of him, pounding a sexual rhythm that would send them both over that fine edge between pleasure and insanity.

  “No,” she protested, pulling her mouth away from his and trying to catch her breath. “We have to think about tomorrow.”

  “Let’s get upstairs and try out a few of my favorite fantasies,” he suggested. “Then we can do it again tomorrow, any position you want.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Exasperation didn’t stop her from shivering as his fingers slid down her thigh again. The tingling grew tighter, higher, stronger as his nails scraped gently her swollen, aching sex.

  “We work together,” she protested desperately, trying to gather her thoughts together long enough to remember the reasons why having another of those sweet orgasms was a bad idea. “We can’t… We shouldn’t.”

  Even as she said no, she shifted her head to the side so his lips could reach her throat. The man definitely had talented lips.

  “We should,” he argued. “We really, really should.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She shuddered, wanting so badly to give in. But she knew it’d be crazy. The sex, however amazing it would be, wasn’t worth the risk of him finding out the truth about her. She wasn’t the exciting, uninhibited woman he’d done so well on the beach. And she wouldn’t, couldn’t, risk what she had here for another round of sex.

  Which meant they couldn’t do this. No matter how much she wanted to.

  “You’re a scientist,” she pointed out as if she was accusing him of being some kind of degenerate. At the same time, she desperately tugged her skirt back down and tried to adjust the top of her dress so the wet spot wasn’t over her sensitive nipple. “You’re supposed to be geeky and uptight and have all kinds of sexual issues.”

  “Geek? Issues?” He stumbled over the words, obviously trying to catch up. Since he was sporting a hard-on the size of a nuclear reactor, she realized the only sexual issue he was probably facing was frustration.

  “That’s what science guys have,” she said with an aggravated push against his chest so he’d let her up. She had to get him off. Off her, she corrected quickly. See, her brain was so stuck on sex she couldn’t even think straight. Off. Now. She shoved again. “They have sexual hang-ups and unnat
ural attachments to Einstein and wheezy, gaspy performance problems.”

  This time he moved, albeit in slow motion.

  Well, apparently she’d found the Off button. Shock had rendered Alex sexless. His eyes did this sort of bugging-out staring thing and his mouth worked but no sound came out. She sneaked another glance at his lap and noted that shock hadn’t, however, deflated that lovely hard-on.

  She didn’t know if she should be proud of finding the button or beat her head against the window a few times as punishment.

  Of course, denial of that hard-on should be considered ample punishment enough, shouldn’t it? Her mouth watered and her fingers itched just a little, tempting her to take advantage of his shock and screw him senseless.

  “Einstein? Wheezy, gaspy? Who the hell have you been dating?”

  “Scientists,” she said, her tone acerbic. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

  Shock fading, he shot her a look that made her feel as if he was delving into the secrets of her soul. Feeling naked, she tugged at her skirt again and pressed her knees together.

  And was painfully—or pleasurably, depending on whether she listened to her pride or her body—reminded that he still had her panties.

  “You know, for a brilliant woman, you have an awfully disdainful view of your own colleagues. What do you do? Handpick losers and geeks for the express purpose of proving that hypothesis valid?”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say a word, he leaned over to press a quick kiss to her lips.

  “I’ll just have to change your mind,” he declared with a wink. Then he released the door latch and told her, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride.”

  And just like that, he was gone. She watched him stride toward the hotel, his jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger and his erection apparently not impeding his steps in the least.

  It was all she could do not to grab her keys and chase after him. Which, she was sure, had been his diabolical plan. Drive her wild, make her come, then leave her stewing in her own juices–so to speak.

  Now Dru did let her head fall back against the driver’s-side window.

  God, what was she doing? She was certifiable. But even as she desperately grasped for proof that she hadn’t lost her mind, her body reveled in the sensation of that climax still shimmering deep in her belly. The muscles of her thighs quivered, and she tried to catch her breath as her clitoris trembled in tiny orgasmic aftershocks.