Delicious Do-Over Page 14

  “You’re lucky that’s all you lost.” Rick looked tired, he looked as if he might be hurting.

  Pono had run up behind Lindsey and took over the surfboard. “Ryan, you dumbass.” He smacked the side of the boy’s head much harder than Rick had. “What’s up, dude? You know better.”

  “Shut up.” Ryan jerked away, his face red with embarrassment.

  Walking backward, anxious for them to be on dry land, Lindsey touched Rick’s wrist, gazed helplessly into his weary face. He gave her a faint smile and rested his arm heavily around her shoulders. She slid her arm around his waist, her feet sinking deep into the wet sand, the water swirling around her knees.

  “Where’s Brian?” he asked, craning his neck to see toward the water. “I saw him go in.”

  “He’s paddling in now,” Pono said. “Some dude got caught in a break too far outside. I think it was a tourist. Shoulda left ’em.” Chuckling, he winked at Lindsey.

  She didn’t know how everyone could take what had happened so lightly. Her heart was still pounding so hard she was a bit dizzy. Even Rick seemed calm, just tired, and twice she caught a small wince which probably had to do with his sore shoulder.

  By the time they reached dry sand, a dozen or more people converged on them. They all talked at once, most of them more impressed with the size of the unexpected waves than anything else.

  When the lifeguard came in with the man he’d rescued, a few people wandered over to them, but most of the crowd stayed put. They all seemed to know Rick, and wanted details, and to trade war stories about rogue waves and daring rescues by helicopter.

  Lindsey had been elbowed aside in the crush. She didn’t mind, and shook her head when Rick tried to draw her back into the circle. If she thought he needed to lean on her, she would’ve instantly gone back to his side. But listening to everyone chatter was fascinating. Some of the people—mostly teenagers—sounded like fans. They practically worshiped Rick. Not a single person had had a doubt that Rick could have brought the boy in safely.

  Ryan had plopped down on the sand, his head hung as he pummeled a piece of driftwood into the ground. Rick was mostly quiet and broke away from the crowd twice, only to be drawn in again. Two gorgeous blonde women wearing thong bikinis were all over him. He obviously knew them, and each pressed him to let her take him home. That was the first time Lindsey had seen Rick blush a little. It made her smile.

  “It’s over, folks,” he said abruptly. “Everyone is all right.” He stepped away, glanced over at the lifeguard who was shaking the rescued tourist’s hand, and then at Ryan. “I’ll see you at the shop, huh?”

  The boy nodded, a weak smile softening his brown face before he went back to punishing the sand.

  “Rick?”

  He turned his head. So did Lindsey. A woman stood off to the side. She had shiny brown sun-streaked hair that hung to her waist, and a stunning bronze body barely covered by a few strips of buttery yellow fabric. Her almond-shaped brown eyes reflected her concern.

  “How’s the shoulder?”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  “You need me, you call,” she said softly.

  “Thanks, but I got it covered.” He smiled at Lindsey, held out an arm to her. “Let’s go home.”

  Feeling a bit awkward, she sidled up to him, and waited until he slid an arm around her shoulders before she slid hers around his waist.

  They started toward the Jeep, and she promised herself she wouldn’t ask. She kept her word for five whole seconds. “Who is she?”

  “That’s Lani. We saw each other for a while.”

  “What happened?” She felt him tense. She knew she had no business being nosy but she didn’t retract the question.

  “We wanted different things. I’m sorry but I might have to wrap my shoulder when we get to my house.”

  “Please. Don’t be sorry. I knew you were hurting.”

  He squeezed her shoulders tighter and kissed her hair. “No acrobatics for us tonight.”

  She blushed. “Shut up or I’ll hurt your other side.”

  Rick grinned. “What happened to my sweet—”

  “Your surfboard.” She stopped. “And the beach towels—”

  “Don’t worry. Someone took care of it.” He shaded his eyes, squinted toward where the Jeep was parked. “Pono is strapping my board on now.”

  “Wow. That’s really nice.”

  “Yeah. It’s a pretty tight community.”

  “Is Ryan going to be okay?” she asked, frowning after him.

  “So you worry about everyone, not just me, huh?”

  She sighed. “Sad to say, that’s partly true. But you—” she lightly jabbed a finger in his chest “—don’t ever do that again.”

  “What? I shoulda let Ryan drown?” he said, his brow cocked in amusement.

  “Would he have?” she asked, renewed fear tightening her chest.

  “Don’t go there. It’ll eat at you.” He opened the passenger door. “Let’s go home.”

  She nodded, hating that she loved the way that sounded.

  14

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON Lindsey cleaned up the kitchen after making them an early dinner. At her insistence, they’d hung around the house all day, talking, reading the news on the computer and then he taught her to play chess and she whipped his butt at Scrabble. There had been kissing, too. Lots and lots of kissing, but they’d been careful about doing anything else.

  Although Rick wouldn’t admit it, his shoulder was still bothering him. Lindsey knew because he’d had a rough night trying to get comfortable. She’d practically begged him to go get an X-ray after the incident yesterday, but he was a stubborn, grouchy patient. She was beginning to think his pride hurt as much as his shoulder.

  Lindsey hadn’t hounded him since late morning so when she heard him grunt, she decided to give it one more shot. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go to the doctor?” She set their drinks down on the glass table next to him, a beer for him, wine for her.

  “Say that one more time, Linds.” His voice carried a very definite warning. “Just one more…”

  “Or what?” She grinned as she sat beside him on the couch, curling her legs beneath her.

  At her dismissive tone, his brows lifted and he grabbed her wrist. “I’ll tear off your clothes and make love to you in ways you’ve never dreamed possible.”

  She laughed, but the sound came out funny when she nervously swallowed at the same time. He looked positively yummy sitting there with his hair still damp from his shower, wearing unsnapped jeans, no shirt, his bare feet propped up on the brown leather ottoman that matched the couch.

  Outside the large glass window the sky was cloudless, a perfect match to the sparkling blue ocean, yet his hazel eyes seemed more green today.

  She pried his fingers from her wrist, and his hand dropped on her thigh. He slid his palm up a few inches, burrowing his fingers under the hem of her shorts. “You’re not allowed to move around,” she reminded him. “Furthermore, I’m not sure a beer is smart. What if you end up having to take a painkiller?”

  “One lousy beer. Please. And I already told you, I don’t take painkillers.”

  “Testy, aren’t we?”

  “Not testy. I’m horny.”

  That startled a laugh out of her. But she didn’t blush. Another surprise. “You can’t be.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced down at his lap.

  Her gaze followed to the straining zipper of his jeans. Her pulse quickened. “Not advisable,” she said weakly.

  He gave her a tolerant smile. “There are a lot of things we could do that won’t hurt my shoulder.”

  She blinked, moistened her lips. This time the blush came with a vengeance.

  “All the kissing. You looking the way you do…what did you expect?”

  She tugged at her sloppy ponytail. “Looking the way I do? Very funny.”

  “You’re beautiful, Lindsey.” He lightly squeezed her thigh and, using his elbow for support, leaned over to kiss her. H
e fell short by a couple of inches. “Move closer.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He smiled. “Then come here.”

  With mock annoyance, she scooted her butt closer to him, her mind racing ahead to the luscious things he would do to her.

  He shoved his hand under her T-shirt and cupped her breast through her bra. “Why did you wear this?”

  “My bra?”

  “You knew we were staying in.” He unfastened the front clasp, pushed the cup aside and fingered her nipple.

  “I always wear one,” she muttered, irritated with her banality, but turned on, too.

  “Take it off, but leave the shirt on.”

  She frowned, but did the magic trick she’d learned the first day she was forced to change in a locker room. In seconds she laid the bra on the couch and waited.

  He smoothed the T-shirt over her breasts, and stared at her nipples poking at the soft fabric, his expression one of pleasure and an odd fascination. Lowering his head, he dampened the material in both spots with his tongue and then leaned back to inspect his handiwork.

  “Your version of a wet T-shirt contest?” she asked in a breathy voice.

  “No contest. You win hands down.” He leaned back in and blew lightly on the damp material clinging to her hard nipples.

  The feel of his warm breath on her covered breasts did amazing things to her entire body. She put her hand on his chest, let it slide down to the waistband of his jeans.

  “First your shorts,” he whispered.

  She understood immediately and swung her feet to the floor. The blinds were open but the reflective glass prevented anyone from looking inside. Lifting her butt, she got rid of her shorts.

  “Your panties,” he said, his eyes hooded and watchful.

  Without hesitation, she slid them off, her thoughts flashing back to the first time he’d asked her to undress. She’d been too shy. Amazingly, that was only days ago. How could something that felt so major happen in such a short time?

  Her T-shirt wasn’t nearly long enough to hide everything, and as she curled into a safer position, she considered with some amusement that she hadn’t exactly been reborn.

  Rick smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking. He reached under her shirt again, kneaded each breast and teased her nipples. “Let me use my mouth on you,” he murmured in a low husky voice, and then trailed his splayed fingers down her front, stopping to urge her thighs apart. “I want to make you come.”

  She automatically tensed. “But you’ll hurt your shoulder.”

  He smiled, kissed her chin. “I don’t plan on using it.”

  The inevitable blush warmed her skin. So did his unbelievably deft and soothing hand, working its magic and melting her resistance.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “No pressure.”

  “No.” She swallowed hard. “I want you to.”

  “I know it’s a very intimate thing. Not something I practice freely,” he said, and she frowned. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I do. I mean…really?” The idea was more a curiosity to her than anything else. “Really.”

  “How many times have you done it? Less than five?”

  “Lindsey,” he said, his tone part rebuke, part amazement, his small smile infinitely patient.

  “Sorry, I uh—” She clamped her mouth shut, possibly more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her whole life.

  He laughed, gingerly twisted around on the couch and slid his hand up her thigh. “Lie back.”

  She hadn’t yet gotten over her gaffe, and for her, the mood had decidedly mellowed. Her gaze shifted to his fly. Clearly, he didn’t share that problem. The knowledge renewed her excitement. “Will you take off your jeans?”

  “I might need some help.” He slowly unzipped his fly, careful of the snug fit over his arousal.

  Lindsey got up and tugged his jeans down his hips. Then stared at his extended hand. “It’ll be easier in bed,” he said, and she helped pull him to his feet.

  He held her hand and led her into the bedroom. Her heart raced, knowing what was about to happen. She only wished she didn’t feel so awkward, and when he told her to sit at the edge of the bed, she didn’t protest or even bother to think, she simply obeyed.

  “Lie back,” he told her, urging her down with two gentle hands at her shoulders.

  It was a scary, vulnerable feeling to have her feet on the floor, him spreading her legs as she reclined.

  “Relax,” he whispered as he lowered himself.

  “That can’t be comfortable—”

  “Shh.” He crouched between her legs, stroked her with his hand before entering her with his finger.

  She went limp and closed her eyes. The tingling started low in her belly, just like it always did, traveling along her nerve endings, into her chest, out to her arms. He took his time, leisurely circling her clit with his thumb. With his other hand, he pushed her shirt up, touched her breast. She shivered with longing, the familiar ache already starting to build inside her.

  He put his mouth between her legs. She jerked, opened her eyes. She stared at the top of his head, his long hair brushing her belly, falling on her thighs. As with his thumb and finger, he was in no hurry. His tongue laved and dipped, his moist breath making her hot and cold at the same time. Her head fell back and her lids tightened until all she saw were pricks of light piercing the darkness.

  Her body began to tense up, but it wasn’t because she was nervous. It was the way he licked and sucked at her clit, the way his fingers pushed into her. When he flicked at her with his tongue pointed and hard, she grabbed the covers and gasped.

  Without warning she started to convulse. The speed was so startling, the spasms so intense, she tried to push his head away from her, but he stayed with her, the urgency of his mouth feeding her sensual panic until she had no fight left in her. She went limp again, breathing hard.

  Rick stretched himself out, pressed his mouth over hers. She sampled herself on his lips, the unfamiliar taste oddly erotic. He felt a bit heavy with only his good shoulder to lessen his weight.

  “I think you set a record,” he murmured, chuckling against her mouth.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured back.

  He lifted his head, and stared at her in total astonishment.

  She covered her mouth with her hand, muttering a muffled, “I’ve never said that before in my life.”

  Rick laughed, really laughed, then grimaced when he bumped his shoulder on her knee.

  “Get up.” She carefully shoved at his chest. “Come up here.” She scrambled away from the edge, and pulled him up by his good arm.

  “Wait,” he said. “Stop. It’s better if I do this.” He sprawled out beside her, managing to grab her T-shirt and yanking it up.

  “You faker.”

  “I’m not. It hurts, but I want that shirt off.”

  She didn’t hesitate getting rid of it, and sat facing him without a stitch on. Her pale skin had blotched, but he didn’t seem to mind, or notice.

  He reached out and touched her breast. “Get a condom,” he told her, adding, “Please,” when she made no move.

  She swallowed back the last bit of nervousness. “Not yet. I have my own plans.” She used the tip of her finger to touch the silky crown of his penis, and then bent her head and followed the same path with her tongue.

  He hissed in a breath. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Moisture had formed at the tip and she lapped at it, swirling her tongue as she’d seen him do to her breasts. Feeling brave, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, startled at his jerk when her teeth scraped him.

  She straightened. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” The tenderness in his smile made her heart flutter. The rest of her melted. “Seriously, Linds. You need to get a condom.”

  This time she did as he asked, then passed him the packet, afraid her hands would tremble.

  He quickly tore it open, sheathed himself. Mindless of his
shoulder, he caught her hips and urged her to straddle him. She readily sank onto him, unprepared for the depth of the penetration. She clenched around him, then just started to move when he threw back his head and cried out her name.

  THE NEXT DAY Rick swore to her that his shoulder was better and they had lunch at a cute outdoor café that specialized in locally grown food. He’d warned Lindsey that he needed to swing by the shop afterward, and any place they went that kept him out of the water was fine with her.

  While he was in the back going over paperwork with Wally, she looked through the racks of women’s T-shirts, tank tops and shorts. Rick had suggested that she pick out whatever she wanted, and because she’d run out of clean clothes she decided to take him up on the offer. Basically she needed only one outfit to get her back to Waikiki since she would be leaving Hawaii the day after tomorrow.

  The depressing thought churned bitterly in her stomach. Darn it, she couldn’t go there. It wasn’t fair, not to Mia and Shelby, who were counting on her to return to New York, her batteries recharged and ready to tackle the new business. It wasn’t fair to Rick, either. The only thing he’d signed up for was a week of no-strings fun.

  And as for herself, this was supposed to be a week of renewal, saying goodbye to the old her, hello to a braver, more interesting Lindsey Shaw. Not a sniveling crybaby who’d fallen so hard for Rick that she could barely think about that inevitable last time they’d make love, that final glimpse of him as she boarded a plane knowing she’d never see him again.

  They could promise to talk from time to time, and they probably would, but that would fade over the months and wouldn’t prolonged contact be more painful anyway?

  Nope, she wasn’t gonna think about it. She gave her head a shake. She wanted to be stronger and braver. Better she start this minute or totally ruin her last day with him. She noticed some posters on the wall, large stills of giant waves. She moved closer and saw they were photographs of surfers who looked like small toy figures against the monster waves that had to be over thirty feet high. Why anyone would put themselves at risk like that was totally mind-blowing.

  Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard the voices behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw two teenage boys. When he saw that she noticed them, the taller one gave her a cocky grin and strutted toward her.