Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five

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Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five Page 12

by Bengtsson, J.


  Keith seemed to pick up on my hesitation. “It’s supposed to be snug fitting.”

  Oh, yes. It’ll be snug, all right.

  “Come on. Let’s go, Anderson. Stop wasting time. I’ll give you three minutes to get the wetsuit on. Any longer than that and I’ll meet you at the beach.”

  I wanted to remind him that he was the one who’d been late, but that impatient expression on his face told me Keith wasn’t playing around. He intended on leaving me if I didn’t get with the program. Maybe him playing hardball was what I needed because, instead of second-guessing myself for all eternity, I raced into the bathroom and began the arduous process of pulling the suit up over my baby-making hips. That was the hard part, requiring a delicate dance of back and forth redistribution before the rest of the suit fell into place with organ-pinching perfection. And, like a seal in a very tight-fitting second skin, I waddled out to Keith with seconds to spare.

  His eyes passed over me, landing squarely on my sealskin suit and nodding.

  “What? Did it rip?” I asked, crossing my arms over myself. I was so out of my element.

  “No. I was just… damn, you look hot.”

  “I do?”

  Curving his arm around my waist, he yanked me into him, and our bodies pressed together seductively. Keith’s lips hovered close, teasing and tempting me. To say I was out of my element would be an understatement. Last week a boy held my hand for the first time. Today he wanted to kiss me. It was a moment I’d daydreamed about, but now that the boy was here, eager for the taking, I had no idea what to do with him. I ducked out from under his embrace.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just – I’ve never been kissed before. If, you know, that’s what you were going to do. Maybe you weren’t, and I totally misread the whole thing, and if I did, I’m sorry, but…”

  Once I caught the grin on Keith’s face, I stopped rambling.

  “I was going to kiss you, but I didn’t realize you needed to make an outline first.”

  “More like a rough draft,” I added playfully.

  “I’m thinking getting you into bed would take a full dissertation.”

  “Whoa. You need to slow down, Keith. I won’t go past a term paper with you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he answered confidently.

  His playfulness drew a smile to my lips. “No, we won’t.”

  He grabbed me again, and before I could think, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “There. Now you’ve been kissed. Stop making it weird.”

  He let me go, picked up his surfboard, and started jogging toward the water.

  My fingers found my lips and I grinned like a loon before picking up my own board and chasing after him.

  * * *

  Exhausted, waterlogged, and seriously tested, I paddled my way out the back, past the broken waves, to position myself in the right spot to catch the perfect ride. Getting to this point had been a battle of both body and soul. There was nothing like gasping for air while being tossed about in the waves to point out the obvious – I was seriously out of shape. By dropping a fair amount of weight, I’d fooled myself into believing I was a lean, mean fighting machine, but one day on the beach proved I was anything but. Even if I never caught a wave, from this day forward, I would make it my mission to get fit.

  The battle with my soul proved easier to overcome, since the minute I dipped my big toe into the frigid Pacific, all brain activity slowed to a crawl. I couldn’t remember which way was up, much less concern myself over silly stuff like death and dismemberment. My mind had one goal: surf. Somehow I just knew if I could get my unathletic body up on that board, all the world’s dysfunction would be solved. I had the power of the universe in my hands… if I could just get over the next swell.

  But as I was preparing my victory speech, a wall of water hit me in the face. I gagged on the salty concoction flooding my nose. Every swipe of my hands to clear the water away only made my face wetter. I pawed at myself, coughing up a swell of water before I turned to see Keith eyeing me in amusement.

  “You doing okay there, champ?”

  “Aside from swallowing a school of guppies? Sure.”

  “It’s the surfer’s version of sushi.”

  “Yes. Yum.”

  Keith dropped onto his stomach and started paddling away. “Gotta watch for those rogue waves, Sam. They’ll get you every time. Now, let’s go. We don’t want to lose our place in the lineup.”

  “Right, because it would be a shame if I couldn’t get up there in time for the other surfers to laugh at me.”

  “Nothing’s for free, Sam. You’ve got to earn your respect.”

  And then suddenly Keith was gone, having flipped his board underwater only to suspend himself upside down until the wave had passed.

  “Oh, crap.” I gripped the side of my board and followed him below the water line. The dreaded turtle roll. No matter how many times I’d done it today, the maneuver elicited panic every single time. Holding my breath under water was one thing, but holding it while dangling upside down was quite another.

  Once the whitewater had passed over me, I flipped the board back around and ungracefully scooted my stomach back onto the smooth surface. Keith was already back, bobbing on his board as if the effort of battling the current hadn’t affected him at all. He pointed toward the horizon. “You see it, Sam? It’s coming.”

  I followed the direction of his finger to see the perfect wave developing. It was mine. I could feel it. Never taking my eyes off the redemption forming not far in the distance, I nodded to Keith. This was what I’d needed all along – something to focus and challenge me. For the first time since Sullivan’s death, I was thinking clearly, and everything finally made sense. We weren’t put on this earth to survive. We were put here to live. Sully’s suicide had dragged me down below the waterline, but instead of resurfacing, I’d remained suspended upside down. It was like the turtle roll of my life and I’d never completed the flip.

  Today was the day I’d resurface. I was going to stand back up on my own two feet, and when that wave came, I was going to ride it all the way to shore, so help me god.

  Keith twisted on his board, staring me in the eye, the thrill of the moment not lost on either of us. “It’s beautiful, Sam, and it’s got your name written all over it.”

  “Samantha,” I corrected with a wide smile.

  Keith gripped my arm and pulled me toward him. His hands took hold of my neck and he pressed his salty lips to mine. This time I wasn’t shy and timid. This time I kissed him back with all the excitement this moment meant to me. Breaking our connection, Keith pushed my board toward the wave.

  “Go earn the respect you deserve, Samantha.”

  * * *

  Wetsuits off, Keith and I lay on our backs at the base of a sand dune, baking in the sun. I was flushed with accomplishment, and a feeling of euphoria had settled over me.

  “Why didn’t I do this earlier?”

  Keith flipped to his side, resting on his elbow before proceeding to run a finger along my neckline. “It’s called, ‘no.’ I told you surfing would change your life.”

  His touch was so casual, as if he regularly caressed me and it had become an afterthought to him. But me? Yeah, my body didn’t take it so nonchalantly. I shivered like I’d just collided with an iceberg.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, the slightest hint of a grin turning up the corners of his lips. He knew damn well why I was shaking.

  “No. I’m confused.”

  “Confused?” Keith pushed a little higher up on his elbow, but instead of ceasing and desisting, his fingers just kept slipping further down my neck until they were nestled in the crevice of my cleavage. “About what? I think I’m making my intentions pretty fucking clear.”

  “Oh, you are,” I replied, sucking in a breath as his hand dipped lower still. “I just can’t figure out what your angle is.”

  Keith laughed. “You say that like
I’m some complicated guy, Sam. I don’t even know where the sun goes when the moon comes out. I don’t have some master plan. I can assure you that when it comes to seduction, I’m a simpleton.”

  “So, that’s what this is all about? You’re trying to seduce me?”

  “If you have to ask, then I’m not doing my job properly. How about this?” Keith nestled a little closer until I felt his ‘angle’ pushing into my thigh.

  “Yeah, I get that you’re a fuckboy, Keith. That’s common knowledge around school. What I don’t get is why me? I’m not your typical one-night stand skank whore.”

  “Oh, Sam.” Keith smirked, his hand sliding over my breast and down the length of my stomach before coming to rest inches above my sex. “If the guy is doing it right, every girl’s got a little skank whore in her.”

  His hand relaxed on my mound, and I pulsed with excitement. Never having been touched by a member of the opposite sex, this was like going from zero to blast off in seven seconds flat. Oh, god, how I wanted to be part of lift off. Keith applied just the slightest bit of pressure, and I trapped my lip under my teeth and moaned. What was happening? How was my body so easily betraying me? I quivered, meeting his touch with the tilt of my hips.

  The sounds of kids frolicking on the beach roused me from the trance when I realized that, in nine months time, I could be the proud owner of one of those noisemakers myself.

  “Keith.” I sat up, covering myself with my arms. “Too fast.”

  “Sorry. I got excited. You weren’t stopping me, so I was like, ‘Hell yeah.’”

  The idea that I excited him was such a new concept that I had trouble believing it to be true. Anxiety played out over my face, catching Keith’s attention.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. My bad. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.”

  “No. I liked it, it’s just… I need to know what we are exactly.”

  “Do you need a definition?”

  “I’d prefer one, yes.”

  “We are…” His fingers trailed over my leg. “Whatever you want us to be.”

  “What I want?” I asked. “I think we both know what I want.”

  “Then that’s what we are.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  Keith flipped over and was on his feet in seconds. I watched as he grabbed a stick and began to write in the wet sand. Inside a roughly drawn heart were the words, Will you be my girlfriend?

  Turning back to me, he opened his arms wide and yelled, “Is this specific enough?”

  * * *

  As he perched over me in the cab of his truck, I glided my hand over him with slow, sure strokes.

  “Sam,” he panted.

  It wasn’t a question or a command, just my name forcibly stolen from his throat with every agonizing touch. I had the power to bring him to his knees and I did, whenever the opportunity arose. Pulsing with ecstasy, I reached my free hand to his sinewy stomach. Aside from his grabbable ass, it was my favorite part of him. Strong and lean from the surf, his abs would dip and swell under my manipulations, sending a surge of pleasure through me.

  This – what we did in the confines of the Surfmobile – brought us together in ways I’d never imagined. It took us from friends to lovers, yes. But it was so much more. I wasn’t a sad little girl anymore. Now when Keith trailed his fingers over my skin, I had the confidence to enjoy his touch. My body, once a vessel of lethargy, had transformed into something I’d never thought possible. Not only had my sun-deprived skin bronzed up under the warm rays, but also something resembling muscle had begun to reshape my arms and legs. Even my stomach muscles were showing signs of waking from a deep sleep.

  Now when I walked through the halls of our high school with my very own surfer boy glued to my side, I was the picture of confidence and poise. Being with him, feeling his love, gave me the courage to blossom into a new me. For the first time in my life, I was choosing my own path, and it was with Keith.

  Two months had passed since he’d asked me to be his in the sand, and we hadn’t looked back, not for a minute. The beach became our home, and every minute we spent together on the waves brought us closer together. We talked a lot, bobbing on those boards, about my family situation and about his dreams of one day owning a surf shop with his brothers. And the more we talked, the more my college escape plan began to waver. I wanted to stay here with Keith forever.

  The only person not celebrating my transformation was my mother. The more I grew to love myself, the more she seemed to hate the new me. When it became clear she could no longer control me with intimidation and force, she’d shifted strategies and now regularly employed sabotage and sneak attacks.

  Keeping Keith a secret had become a necessity. If she discovered what we were doing in the cab of his father’s twenty-year-old truck, I feared for our safety. She was unstable and getting worse. Twice in the last couple of months, erratic behavior had nearly gotten her fired from the real estate agency where she worked. If she hadn’t been such a prolific agent, they surely would have rid themselves of her long ago. Still, she was currently existing on a third strike policy, and I had to wonder how much longer she’d be able to pay the bills.

  “Hey,” Keith whispered, flicking his tongue lightly across my nipple. “Are you with me?”

  As he sucked the taut peak into his mouth, his free hand slid to my other breast, fingers toying with the nipple.

  Yes, I was with him. Of course I was. Always. Keith was the one constant in my life, and no one could ever convince me what we were doing was wrong. I loved Keith. He loved me. That was all that mattered.

  “I’m with you,” I answered, shivering as he continued to work me over with his tongue. Dangling one foot over the truck bench, I opened my legs wide, inviting him in. So close, only a thin layer of fabric separating me from what I desired.

  Keith knew what I wanted. He didn’t have to ask. After all, he’d been the one to introduce me to such pleasures in the first place.

  We’d started off slow, each night taking us further and further until I was a quivering mass of desire, ready and willing to surrender. And when I awoke the next morning, I could feel the difference. The power. It was as if I were seeing the world through a different lens. I felt stronger and more determined. No one would be using me for target practice ever again.

  Keith trailed his fingers along my inner thigh and over my pulsing mound. I strained upward, willing him to probe deeper, my body a series of currents, electrified under his touch. His hand moved under the edge of my panties and found me wanting; slick and hot and ready. He slid along the crease before dipping inside my folds. Writhing against him, I matched him stroke for stroke, unable to keep my body still or my cries muffled. And then it happened. The world splintered into a thousand pieces and took me right along with it.

  Spent, I fell back against the seat, shuddering and panting. Keith rested his head on my chest, watching with a small smile.

  Threading my fingers in his hair, I pressed a kiss to his lips. And he knew. I was ready. With his eyes on mine, Keith popped open the glove compartment and, finding the foil packet, ripped the condom packet with his teeth. And then he was above me, and I could feel the weight of his love. See it on his face and in his smile.

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, I gave him a gentle nudge.

  “No,” I whispered. “My turn.”

  13

  Keith: The Metamorphosis

  Heaven was the only way to describe the sweet little handful of buttocks currently cozied up against my erection, slowly rubbing against me in agonizing fashion. Sam did not require my help or guidance as she positioned her body over mine, and that can-do attitude was one of my favorite things about her – well, that and her shapely ass… and her killer bod… and her silky smooth skin. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her personality too, but at the moment that took a backseat to her physical perfection.

  Nothing in this world beat watching my girl writhe and moan and tip over the edge with lust. Yeah, that was absolute
ly my favorite thing about her—like to the point where if I died today, the memory of her climaxing would be what floated through my mind as I wandered off into the light.

  I was inside her now, and Sam was moving slowly, teasing me. Her face contorted as the pleasure overpowered her. Fuckin’ A, she was beautiful. My impatient fingers trailed the length of her bronzed skin that had been sculpted by the waves. Her body was now a toned machine, but somehow she still felt as soft as butter—unblemished and smooth to the touch. If I lived a thousand lifetimes, I could never get enough of her body.

  Leaning in, she pushed me into the upholstery. A storm gathered at the base of my spine as I thrust inside her. She tipped her head back, keeping pace with me as I dipped into her neck with a frenzy of kisses. Draping one arm lazily over my shoulder, Sam caressed the arc of my neck, while her other hand slipped around to lightly stroke my back. With my palms molded to the swells of her breasts, I traced my fingers over her nipples. Ragged breaths eased from her throat, and my name escaped in a raspy moan. Encouraged, I slid my tongue along the rise of her nipples and lost myself to the frenzy. She squeezed tighter, and I bucked with abandon.

  Her mouth found mine, and as our movements quickened, Sam’s tongue became the aggressor, tangling with mine in a fury. She finally pulled back, her lips swollen and wet and wanton. And shit – the way she looked at me – I was so not worthy.

  “You’re killing me, Sam.”

  Trailing her tongue along my collarbone, her lips curved into a smile. She knew what she was doing to me, the way my body convulsed with every slippery stroke. The overhead light illuminated the steaks of gold in her long brown hair. Sam looked like a heaven-sent angel… and felt like one, too.

  “I love you so much, babe.”

  She didn’t respond – couldn’t respond, because a strategically placed thumb accompanied my declaration, sending her reeling against my touch. With her lip tucked between perfectly straight teeth, Sam threw her head back and whimpered.

 

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