Body Double (21 page)

“The average date consists of dinner and some kind of event like a movie, play, concert, or sporting event, and most of that time is spent paying attention to something else and not getting to know each other. Let’s say each date consists of one to two hours of quality, get-to-know-you time, and we go out twice a week. That’s like twelve or thirteen weeks’ worth of dates.”

“Dating math. I like it.”

He kicked the sand as they strolled. After a moment, he said, “Speaking of dating, Joe is pretty eager to ask you out when we get back.”

Andrea looked down at her feet. “You won’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? I can’t conceive of a greater torture. I’ll be with my real wife, who won’t let me touch her, while I watch my cousin hold you in his arms. Yeah, that’s going to be agony.”

Andrea liked Joe. She just wasn’t sure she could date him without constantly thinking of Blake, wondering when she’d run into him. Going on double dates with him and Sarah would be out of the question. Worse than that, though, was the idea of never seeing Blake again. A lump formed in her throat, and tears stung her eyes. “I know we’ll have to say goodbye in a couple of weeks, but I don’t want to think about that yet. I don’t want to sour my time with you by imagining going back to my old life.”

He stopped and faced her. “You’re right. Let’s have fun and enjoy the hell out of the next two weeks. No more talk about the G word.”

His expression, so earnest and filled with passion, moved her. She was ready to let go of her reservations, her fear, and give herself up to him. Forget that he was someone else’s husband now. She wanted nothing more than to make love to him right there on the beach with the ocean waves kissing their feet. Did he know that Sarah had given them permission to become intimate? “Sarah said it was okay if we wanted to... you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but you made it pretty clear a few days ago—”

“True, but it’s your wedding night after all.”
Our wedding night.

“Are you saying you’ll take pity on me?”

“No, I’m saying...” She licked her lips while gazing at his mouth, chin lifted and ready for his kiss.
That’s your cue, Blake.

He bent his head but didn’t kiss her. Instead, he hovered his lips over hers, a fraction of an inch away. “You’re saying... what?”

With his gentle breath on her lips, she could all but taste him. Oh, how she hungered for his mouth, his touch, his body. “I want you.”

He kissed her with those perfect lips, so warm and tender. Andrea pressed her body against him, encircling his waist with her free arm. A moan escaped his lips, and his kiss intensified. His tongue teased her lips, urging her to spread them wider, to let him in, and she did.

Something scratchy ran over her foot, and she jerked in surprise and cried out.

“What?” Blake asked, alarmed.

“Something touched my foot.”

They scanned the sand around them. “Look,” Blake said. “A crab. Should we take him back to the room and cook him up?”

“No,” Andrea said, laughing. “He didn’t pinch me or anything.”

Blake followed the critter down the beach, teasing it by tossing sand at it with his foot. “Yeah, but I love crab legs. I’m getting hungry just looking at him.”

“I doubt he’ll come willingly. Let’s just leave him be.” She was more interested in being back in his arms.

“I’ll carry him in my shirt.” Blake pulled his shirt off, giving Andrea her first look at his naked torso.

She swallowed hard, not realizing until then how muscular he was, how ripped. The way the moonlight played across the curving bulges of his muscles sent a tremor through her body. He’d mentioned that he owned a chain of personal training facilities, and while he did have broad shoulders and thick arms, she hadn’t realized she’d find The Hulk under his clothes. He bent over and tried to scoop the crab into his shirt.

Andrea pressed her lips together and put her hands on her hips. She didn’t want the stupid crab. She just wanted to get back to the room and help Blake’s celebrate his wedding night. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “If you can pick him up with your bare hands and put him in your shirt without getting pinched, I’ll help you eat him. If he pinches you, we leave him alone.”

“All right,” he said, glancing up at her. He laid the shirt neatly on the sand and got into position behind the crab. It crawled surprisingly fast, going around the shirt and turning sideways to keep an eye on the giant predator stalking it. Blake looked like a linebacker shuffling across the sand, bent at the waist with his arms outstretched, ready to grab it. “Bring my shirt, will you?”

She picked it up and followed him. With a sudden movement, he scooped up the crab in both hands. “Got him.” The creature snipped and snapped, claws reaching for him. “Whoa. Toss me the shirt.”

She tried to toss it, but it fluttered to the sand, which gave her the idea to wet it down. She ran into the shallow waves and dunked it under the water, all the while laughing at Blake trying to escape the crab’s pincers without letting it go. “Hurry,” he said. “Give it to me.”

Feeling playful, she balled up his sopping wet shirt and threw it, hitting him in the chest. He looked up at her in surprise, and the crab got hold of him. Andrea burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her now salty, wet hands.

“Ow. Shit. Ow.” He let go of the crab’s body to pry the pincer off the skin of his forearm, and then let it fall to the sand. It skittered away. He looked up at her with dark intent. “So that’s how you want to play this?”

Uh oh.
Andrea lifted her skirt and ran back toward the hotel, laughing. She heard his feet pounding the sand behind her, his breath getting closer, his promise to make her sorry. Before she knew it, he had hold of her arm and was pulling her to a stop. She found herself against his chest and laughed up into his smiling face, but his smile wasn’t sweet or teasing or sensual. It was wicked. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the water.

“Blake, no. Don’t. I’m sorry.” She tried to sound like she was pleading, but she couldn’t keep her laughter from bubbling through. “Don’t throw me in. My dress—Sarah’s dress—it’ll be ruined.”

“I’ll buy her a new one.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight. Instead of throwing her into the small waves like she expected, he waded out into water that swelled and dipped, wetting first the skirt of her dress where it draped, then her butt and feet. She clung to him. “Blake, don’t let me go.”

“Oh, no.” He continued to wade deeper. “I have something else in mind for you.”

The water covered her hips and swelled to her shoulders. Andrea gasped. “It’s cold!”

He laughed. “Now we’re even.”

“We are not even,” she said, squirming out of his arms. Her feet landed on the sandy floor of the shallow ocean waters.

“Mmm,” he said, pulling her back against him. “You’re right. A kiss would make us even.”

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders and her legs around his waist, and kissed him. When a wave swell lifted them up and carried them closer to shore, he backpedaled through the water while they kissed to keep them both mostly submerged. A wave, larger than the others, hit Andrea in the head from behind, pushing her harder into Blake. He lost his balance and fell backward, going completely under the water, and Andrea followed, reflexively letting him go. Before she knew what was happening, she was pawing the water in front of her, trying to right herself. Blake’s hands gripped her arms and pulled her up so she could get her head above water. Then she was able to get her feet under her.

He was behind her. “Are you okay?”

She faced him, laughing and sputtering salt water, while she brushed her wet hair back out of her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s go dry off.” He scooped her up again and waded back to the beach, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Then he set her on the sand and lay down with her, his long body stretched out beside and partially on top of hers. There was no mistaking his erection, pressed against the top of her thigh.

His tongue slipped into her mouth and tickled her own, stroking it while he sucked gently. The warmth of his hand moved from her thigh, up along her hip and waist to the swell of her breast, cupping it so gently, she could barely feel his touch. Something, maybe his thumb, brushed her nipple through the wet fabric of her dress, creating an insane desire to feel his hand squeeze and stroke her. She shifted, lifting her body into his hand while she moaned into his mouth. Her left leg, almost of its own volition, curled around his right to pull his body closer. She longed to feel the hard bulge between his legs nestled between hers.

The sound of laughter invaded Andrea’s lusty thoughts. People walked along the beach toward them, a family with children. Her modesty asserted itself at the same time Blake’s did.

He pulled back and climbed to his feet, then offered both hands to help her up. Sand clung to the backs of his hands, one arm, and the entire left side of his body. She imagined her entire back, from heels to head, were likewise covered with sand. “Let’s continue this conversation in private.” His voice was throaty and coarse and sexy as hell.

They found their flip-flops on the beach, and with their hands clasped, they ran back to their hotel room, laughing.

They left their flip-flops just inside the door of their suite and walked directly to the bathroom so as to leave as little sand on the carpet as possible.

Blake reached into the shower and turned on both of the two facing showerheads, setting them to warm. When Andrea started to unzip her dress, he put his hand over hers to stop her. “Let’s rinse the water out of our clothes before we take them off.” She smiled, stirring his insides again. Though her hair was wet and her mascara had washed partially down her face, she was still gorgeous. Her smile was so sweet and sexy, he wanted to kiss it off her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever showered with my clothes on before,” she said, stepping into the stall. She stood under the showerhead on the right and let the water cascade over her head. Sand ran down into the drain.

He stepped in after her, standing under the showerhead on the left. “Can’t say I have either.” He was less concerned with rinsing the sand out of his pants than watching her turn this way and that under the stream of water. She pumped a bit of soap into her palm and washed her face, then turned into the spray. When she opened her eyes again and looked up at him, the last vestiges of his resistance fell away.

He took her into his arms and kissed her, unsure he could ever bring himself to stop. Her wet body clung to his, and his hands pulled her closer—but not close enough. He unzipped her dress and pulled the thin straps off her shoulders. While he didn’t want to stop kissing her, he had to see, to feast his eyes on her body as he undressed her for the first time. He pulled back, breaking the bond with her lips. “Let me see you.” The words came out rough through a throat tight with desire.

She lifted her elbows to pull her arms out of the straps, and he peeled the bodice down, away from her skin. Her delicate breasts, now bare, were perfect—smooth and wet, with hardened nipples that called to his mouth.
Not yet
, he thought. There was more of her yet to be uncovered. He tugged the dress farther down her body, over her hips, and let it fall with a splat to the floor. The sight of her light brown pubic hair through the semi-transparent, wet lace of her white panties practically made his mouth water. She was gorgeous. As a personal trainer, he’d seen more sculpted, athletic bodies, but never one with both curves and lean muscle in all the right places.

Now mostly naked, she smiled up at him with the sexy-sweet smile that turned his brain to mush. “My turn.” He watched her face while she unfastened his pants, enjoying her eagerness and attention. As she slid the zipper slowly down, her fingers brushed his penis, which strained hard against his underwear to be closer to her. She hooked her thumbs on his waist band above each hip and pushed his pants down. They fell to the tile with the muted jingle of pocket change. With her gaze locked onto his, she stepped up close and slid her hands around his waist and down to his butt, cupped his cheeks, and pulled him against her. He bent his head and kissed her, unable to resist. The thought of her hands on him, her lips on him made him harder.

He heard the sound of paper tearing and then she was running a bar of soap across his back and sides. Chuckling, he pulled back once more and pressed the button on the shower control to momentarily stop the flow of water hitting his back. A heat lamp above turned on, keeping him warm. She ran the soap up his chest, down his belly, and around his waist. She soaped his armpits and each arm, his hands, then bent to wash his feet and legs.

“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she said, standing. “Let me get your back.”

He turned around and let her soap his back and neck. Her hands felt so good, he didn’t want this to stop, and yet he wanted it to go much further.

With her body pressed against his back and her arms around him, her fingers slipped under the elastic band of his underwear in the front.