The Bikini Diaries (9 page)

emit naughty little panting noises. He nibbled at her neck, found himself sliding his cock in the valley of her ass. He rubbed her harder in front, harder, harder, feeling the nub of her clit slide beneath his fingertips. His breath came rougher, too, and he began to wonder if he could really do it—fuck her right here, right now, in the water. What he'd said was true—no one was paying any attention to them. But they'd have to do it slow, soft—not

like last night. They'd have to calm down a little.

He stopped moving, stopped caressing her. "Turn around," he said softly instead.

"What?" she murmured, even as she rotated to face him in the chest-high water. His arms slid around her waist; hers circled his neck.

And when he looked into her eyes, saw her lust, and was reminded again how pretty she

was, her arousal clearly mingling with uncertainty, he knew—knew more than ever

before—that Wendy
wasn't
the bad girl she claimed. She might
want
to be, but there was more to her than that, and something about
that
was sexy as hell.

He spoke soft and low, his voice gravelly. "I want to take off your bottoms and then I'm going to pick you up and you're going to wrap around me—and ride me."

She looked breathless—at once frightened but ready. Then she swallowed and glanced

down at herself in the water. "We can't lose my—"

He cut her off, knowing what she was going to say. "No worries—I'll loop them over my wrist." Then he leaned close, so close that he could feel her heat even in the salty water, and whispered in her ear, "Are you ready for this, Wendy? Are you ready to have me

inside you again?"

She still looked nervous, doubtful—but she nodded.

And just as he let his hands drop to her ass, slipping his thumbs inside her bikini, a huge burst of kids' laughter drew both their gazes toward the beach.

Ah, hell. A group of about ten or twelve people—most of them under the
age
of twelve—

were coming into the water, carrying colored floats and wave boards and looking as if

they planned to stay awhile.

Both he and Wendy stayed silent until they finally turned to look back in each other's

eyes. "I'm going to kill you," she said very calmly and resolutely.

He was so surprised by the words that he laughed. "What did
I
do? Besides pleasure you, I mean."

"Precisely that. You got me all... you know. And now we can't."

"Excited, bunny," he told her. "The word is excited."

She let out a sigh and he realized that she actually felt a little limp and shaky in his arms, so he tightened his grip on her. "Sorry," he said, actually meaning it. He didn't like leaving her unsatisfied.

"Let's go to my place," she said, eyes widening hopefully. "It's only a five-minute walk."

Damn, he hated disappointing her, more every second, yet... "I wish I could. But I have an important conference call in about half an hour."

She blinked. "Well then, I'm not sure what you're doing fooling around with me in the ocean, because you'd better get going."

He couldn't help laughing. "I don't have to be in the office— my cell phone is in a backpack under your beach umbrella. And I figured I'd have time to fool around with you

here,
but I doubt I'd have time to fool around with you
there."
He pointed to her building.

"Since we'd have to gather up our stuff and walk and wait for the elevator. I don’t want to rush that way with you, you know?"

She sighed in understanding—but then he decided they should both turn it to their

advantage. "Look at it this way," he told her, gazing into eyes made greener by the sun's reflection on the emerald waters. "By the time we get to have sex later, we'll both be so ready that we'll want to go all night."

He saw her swallow visibly at the promise before she said, "Later? As in when?"

"Go out to dinner with me. Over in the village. There's a place called Sharky's, right on the bay—totally casual, lots of fun." Then he remembered she was here on business.

"And
please
don't tell me you have to work tonight."

She bit her lip before a slow smile crept onto her face. "No, I don't have to work."

His chest filled with warmth. "Then it's a date."

After leaving the water, they spent more time together on the beach in between what

turned out to be a
series
of business calls—none, unfortunately, relating to solving his problems, but more about day-to-day operations—and Brandon found he enjoyed her

company even when sex wasn't on the table. Of course, he supposed it really was—just

with more of a buildup than last night—but he liked just hanging out in the sun with her.

He
really
liked putting on her sunscreen and he wasn't shy about touching every inch of her he could that way, even if it aggravated his hard-on. He loved how slick her skin

looked in the afternoon sun. He liked watching her get a little tipsy and even sleepy as they sipped on umbrella drinks. When she drifted off, her mouth half open, he found

himself simply studying her, thinking she appeared just as erotic to him—in a different

way—than ever before. Because she looked just as gorgeous, but also vulnerable. Real.

She was beautiful without being... too polished, too plastic, too perfect.

When finally she revived and had tied a sexy little skirty thing around her hips and they prepared to part ways, he pulled her close, unable to help asking, "Did you get over your excitement in the water?"

She looked like she was weighing her answer, finally saying, "I'm doing okay."

"Liar," he said, grinning.

A cute expression took over her face. "Fine. It's all I can think about. Did I fall asleep for a while? Because I think I even dreamed about it."

He let out a low groan. "What did you dream exactly?"

"Pretty much what almost happened. I was riding you in the water."

His dick stiffened all over again, at the vision, and at knowing he'd even inspired her sun-soaked dreams. "Damn, bunny, that's hot." He ran his fingertips lightly, playfully, over the bare curves of her waist.

"You want hot, buddy—you should've been there."

He let out a low laugh and said, "Tease."

"Only until tonight," she promised.

"Don't come without me," he said.

"Huh?" She looked up at him through puzzled eyes.

Clearly the alcohol and sun had dulled her usually sharp mind. So he pulled back just

slightly and cast his gaze right at the crux of her thighs.
"Don't come without me,"
he said again.

This time she smiled, and he saw a glimmer of lust return to her gaze. "Oh. Okay."

He felt a grin sneak onto his face when he decided she wasn't taking this seriously

enough. "I mean it. I want to make it happen. Promise me you'll wait."

She nodded, still looking sleepy and playful. "I promise," she said.

And I promise to make it well worth waiting for,
he thought as he watched her walk away, her ass sashaying across the sand in a way that kept his eyes glued there until she was out of sight. He had some very naughty plans for his hot little beach bunny.

I
watched for White Bikini Babe today. I'm not sure why. Maybe I wanted to thank her.

Or maybe I wanted to see if I felt less intimidated by her now. If she passed by me on

the beach, though, I missed her. I was too busy... being her. Being my own version of

her and enjoying every strange, exhilarating minute of it.

Hard to believe it was just over twenty-four hours ago that I began this hedonistic little

game. Perhaps even harder to believe that it isn't over yet, and that has it feeling a bit

like.
..
erotic Monopoly, a place where you just go round and round the board, passing

Go over and again. Only instead of amassing property and money, I'm amassing
... a

collection of erotic experiences.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Two erotic experiences— last night on the beach and

today in the ocean
—
do not really a collection make. Yet I already feel myself rounding

that third corner and racing past Park Place and Boardwalk, heading for Go once

more—later tonight. And the amazing thing about erotic Monopoly is, it doesn't matter

if I pass Go just one more time or a hundred. No matter what happens, I've already

won.

Now it's only a question of how many times
I'll win
again.

Chapter 5

W
endy felt wired—with sexual need. Erotic images raced through her head. Erotic images that had really happened—the way she'd pinned Brandon to the sand last night,

straddling him; the way she'd arched for him on hands and knees as she'd sucked on his

finger; the sight of his hand between her legs beneath the clear ocean water a few hours ago.

And it would continue. Tonight.

When he'd suggested the restaurant, Sharky's, in the village, she'd almost mentioned that the outing would be perfect for her work since she needed to check out as many of the

resort's hot spots as possible—but she'd quickly bit her tongue, deciding to keep work

talk out of this. They had so far—so why spoil the fantasy with anything like reality?

Now she found herself shedding her bikini, staring again into the wide bathroom mirror

at an entirely new set of tan lines than those she'd had yesterday. The old ones were still visible, but the new ones were more prominent due to more time in the sun today.

Studying the sexier outline they made on her body, the way the tan dipped lower past her belly button and arced higher onto the curves of her breasts, she couldn't help thinking she looked erotic and... beautiful. She bit her lip, remembering Brandon's hands on these same curves. Like earlier today, it almost didn't seem real, as if those hours, last night and today, were just oh-so-vivid fantasies. She wondered where they would have sex tonight.

And she hoped it would be someplace where he could see her body, really
see
it—the tan lines, the curves,
all
of her.

So her cunt already felt heavy, ready, as she stepped under the cool spray of the shower.

And when she let her mind drift back further in the day, to Brandon's piratelike friend, Pete, her pussy actually quivered. God—where had
that
come from?

But she knew. It had come from the thoughts that had assailed her just before Brandon

had shown up. She'd been thinking about fucking Pete, too.

He wasn't her normal kind of guy with his long, messy hair and beach bum look, but

something had sizzled in the air between them—definite chemistry—and she'd found him

undeniably hot in that rugged, pirate sort of way.

As she moved the bar of scented soap over her skin, feeling as if she washed away the

coconut sunscreen to reveal the fresh tan underneath, she couldn't decide which man she

wanted to focus her thoughts on at the moment. Perfect, handsome beach stud Brandon or

rough, swarthy pirate Pete. It surprised her, in fact, that they were even friends—they

seemed so different. But Pete had mentioned the friendship going back to college, so

maybe it was just an unlikely pairing that had endured over time.

She'd promised Brandon she wouldn't climax without him, of course, but as she

showered, her own touches felt too good, igniting still more longing. Despite her worries about being in public, her whole body had hummed with pleasure when Brandon had

caressed her in the water, and she still suffered the frustration.

That was the point of waiting, she knew, the reason he didn't want her to come without

him. And yet as she ran wet palms over her breasts and downward across her stomach,

one hand eased between her legs.

She bit her lip, still amazed at how smooth her pussy felt, hairless. And equally amazed at how simply "free to be" she felt right now, like some untamed, exotic, pleasure-seeking creature. She felt free to touch herself as the water sluiced over her skin, heightening every sensation. And she felt free to think thoughts she never had before—ever. Thoughts of two men at the same time. Thoughts of one to the right of her and one to the left.

Thoughts of two sets of male hands exploring her body. Thoughts of two men kissing

her, her mouth, her neck, her breasts. Thoughts of two hard cocks, one in each of her

fists. Then more thoughts of those cocks, taking turns fucking her, filling her up.

She braced herself against the shower's tile wall as she came, startled by the ferocity of the orgasm that pumped through her, the pulsations almost overwhelming to the degree

that she had to sit down on the edge of the tub enclosure for a moment, her legs too weak to feel steady.

"Oh-my God," she heard herself breathe as she came back to herself. Not because of the orgasm, but because of the thoughts that had made it so powerful. Had she really just

fantasized about being with two guys at once? Her brain pulsed just as hard as her nether regions at the realization. This wasn't like her. She wanted to be wild, she wanted to live these dirty fantasies, but she'd never crossed that line in her mind before. She'd never even
thought about
crossing it. Anytime she'd ever heard of such a thing, it had struck her as unnatural and perverse, the height of sleaziness. Yet here, now, the notion suddenly

struck her as more of a forbidden pleasure than a perversion.

Not that she would—or even
could
—ever do that.

It was one thing to fuck a guy's brains out on the beach after she'd just met him.

And to discover she could enjoy—
appreciate, adore, cherish, devour—a.
bold sexual encounter that came without romantic emotions or attachment or a future. .