Chapter 6 #2
She walked with a bounce. Nearly a foot shorter than him, she had to almost run to keep up with his stride sometimes. How would that petite curvy body fit against his?
Her full chest would press against his ribs and her mouth would glide across his bare skin, rolling over him with teasing little strokes.
Then she would go down on her knees and pull his cock into that same sweet pink mouth and he would hold her head against him, tugging on that shortish hair of hers.
He groaned aloud in disgust. Imagining her giving him head was not doing anything but giving him a huge boner in his swim trunks. Since he was in the water, and his trunks were soaked, he was going to shock the hell out of his fellow surfers when he stood up.
Yeah, it was a damn good thing she wasn’t going to call him. Forget about her morning-after reaction to a night together. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself not to want more.
Pathetic. He commanded himself to put Josie out of his mind, and focus on the wave rising in front of him instead. It was a big one.
On the outside of the crest, he suddenly leapt onto his board and hunched down, feeling the spray of the thrusting water fly across him as he turned the board quickly back and forth using his leg muscles.
He was on top of the wave, soaring through the air, catching a view of the huge expanse of beach and feeling the tenuous balance between him and his board, resting on nothing but water.
It was exhilarating.
He lasted a solid eight seconds before the crest buckled and he dropped into the pit at the bottom of the wave. In another second the whole of the wave crashed over the top of his head, sending him catapulting off his board and sailing through the water.
Closing his mouth, he let the surf pummel him and knock him around until he, the broken wave, and his dangling board all washed ashore.
Not one of his finer endings to a run.
Rubbing the dripping water off his face, he unhooked his leash and reined his board in with a self-satisfied grin. That had been a blast.
“Whoa, Ice, total wipeout.”
Houston looked up from his undignified position sitting in two feet of water to see three teenage boys grinning at him.
He shrugged it off. The fall had been worth the ride.
These guys knew that as well as he did. They were out here just about every day and had nicknamed him Ice since he was known for riding his board without a lot of movement.
He suspected it also had a thing or two to do with his serious personality.
He wasn’t exactly lauded for his social skills.
One of the teens didn’t look like he’d been in the water that day and was sporting a big bandage on his foot. “What happened to you, Andy? Jellyfish?”
Andy grinned, tossing back his scraggly brown hair. “No, I got bit by a shark yesterday. Six stitches in my foot.”
“Really?” Houston stood up and leaned against his board. “Does it hurt?”
“Nah.” Andy shrugged it off. “It was like getting a big paper cut, you know? It was a little shark, just a three-foot black-tip.”
Black-tips were common in the waters around Acadia Beach and were known for coming in close to shore in search of fish and mistaking human limbs for them. Usually they sank their teeth in, then released quickly, probably realizing they’d bitten something bigger than them.
“Well, no going into the water until those stitches are out, all right?”
“I hear you.”
Christian came up beside them. “How many is that? Like six bites in the last few weeks?”
“Something like that.”
Another one of the boys said, “They were talking about closing the beach, but I think that’s crazy. Getting bitten by a black-tip’s no worse than a jellyfish, and they never talked about closing the beach for jellyfish.”
Houston thought he had a point. Shark or jellyfish, nothing was going to stop the majority of them from coming out here.
“Did you see that sign the Coast Guard put up?” Christian asked as he gestured to the sign. “Warning. Dangerous marine life has been spotted in this area.” He gave a snort. “Give me a break.”
Houston agreed. He wasn’t about to give up on the best waves he’d seen in a long time just on the off chance of getting a nip in the heel. Until someone got bit by a serious predator like a bull shark, he was going to stay in the water.
He was headed back toward the edge of the surf, intent on another wave, when he saw Dennis gesturing to him to come over. Annoyed at the interruption, he jogged back to his friend. It was getting late, and he wanted to get a few more runs in before the sun disappeared.
The diversionary tactic was working. While in the air on his board, he had actually gone a whole minute or more without thinking about Josie. Which lately was a damn record. “What’s up? You coming out this time?”
Dennis nodded. “Yeah, but your phone buzzed. Thought maybe it was the hospital.”
Shit. Houston stared at it, lying so innocently on his navy blue towel. It couldn’t be her.
But it could be.
He went hard, tight with need and aching with tension. Dennis glanced at him as he stood up and brushed off his swim trunks. “Aren’t you going to see who it is?”
“Maybe.” He shouldn’t want this. It was a bad idea for all the reasons Josie had outlined, plus the half-dozen or so he’d come up with on his own.
Yet he still wanted it. He wanted her. He could taste her kiss on his lips again, feel her curves pushed against him, and hear her anxious little breaths.
Fuck, he wanted her.
Dennis shook his head. “You need to get a life. You’re starting to get weird, man.”
Houston ignored him and bent over. He picked up the phone and read the text message. It was from Josie.
Call me
Yes. Giddy with relief and anticipation, he stuffed his wet sandy feet into his shoes and plucked his towel off the ground.
“Where are you going?” Dennis demanded. “You just got here.”
The best waves all season suddenly held little interest in light of the alternative. He clapped Dennis on the shoulder.
“I’ve got a bite. Sometimes even us single guys get lucky.”
And he was planning on getting really lucky.
All night long.