She giggled and dove beneath the surface, wiggling her exposed toes in the air. When she emerged, she stuck only her head up from the waves. “I love swimming. The sea. It makes me feel part of nature, like I’m a creature that’s part of a greater whole.”
He thought his heart might explode. God, she became more wonderful with every moment he spent with her. “I swim every morning.”
“You do? That must be wonderful. I always wished we had a pool, but we couldn’t afford one. Even if we had, Mother thought swimming was indecent. All that ankle, you know.”
Flynn chuckled. He was beginning to understand Livvy’s emotional flagellation, her instinct to cut herself off from anything that made her happy. He wanted to be part of ending that tendency. “Well, you can stay and swim any morning you like.”Good going, Flynn, invite the lady to move in tonight, why don’t you?He had been a rogue for so long that even the prospect of something more serious was turning him into a schoolboy.
But Livvy didn’t balk at the offer, merely taking it as the generous suggestion it was. “That’s very kind of you. Our bungalow at the Garden of Allah has pool access, but that thing looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since Alla Nazimova lived there.”
Flynn guffawed. “They like to advertise it as a resort playground for the rich and famous.”
Livvy wrinkled her nose in disdain. “Maybe it was when it first opened, but it could use a fresh coat of paint and a new landscaping team.”
“I hear Scott Fitzgerald lives there.”
“I heard the same thing.” She grimaced. “It’s actually why I took a room there, sight unseen. That, and it was cheap and close to the studio.”
He smiled a close-lipped smile, and she splashed gently at him.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing, it’s just so very you to choose where you were going to live based on the residence of a famous author.” He splashed a little back at her.
“Fat lotta good it’s done me. I haven’t seen him even once. I once saw a man discarding an empty bottle of gin in the dumpster behind our bungalow, and I rushed out with my copy ofThe Great Gatsbyto ask him to sign it. But it turned out to be the night watchman.”
Flynn burst out laughing. “Ohhh, I can just see it. You probably had your curlers in already, right?”
She harrumphed and sent a large splash of water careening toward him. It caught him by surprise and filled his mouth with salty liquid. Still laughing, now spluttering, he splashed back,raising his arms like a whale cresting the surface to help generate a larger wave. But Livvy was too quick for him. She dunked under, holding her nose, and the ocean settled back into itself before she popped up again.
“Not fair,” Flynn protested. But he was smiling at her.
“You never remember to expect the unexpected with me. You always think you can win.”
“Maybe when we first met. I’m a cocky bastard. I won’t deny it. But now, I guess it’s just fun to try.” He shrugged, and she gave him a queer look before placing her face in the water and blowing bubbles in his direction. Then she tossed her head back and let her body float to the surface.
Until that moment, Flynn had nearly forgotten they were naked. But the tantalizing pink tips of her nipples poked out of the water, and he was thrown headlong back under the wave of desire that had sent him running into the water. He resisted the urge to catalog the details of her body, shimmering in the magical dance of the ocean water and the golden rays of the sun.
“This is so gorgeous,” she murmured. He was unsure if she was talking to him or not, but she was right. It was. She was.
He wrested his eyes from the temptation of her naked flesh and turned his gaze to the horizon. The sun was even lower in the sky now, approaching the line of the water. It had begun to turn the wispy pockets of clouds in the sky pink and orange.
He lay back and floated, mimicking her pose. The gentle lull of the ocean held him aloft, and the white noise of the waves crashing on the shore, muffled by the cold water around his ears, instilled a peace in him. He looked up, taking in the full glory of the sky blanketed above him. It was one of those impossible Southern California sunsets, where the unseasonable warmth and the dryair combined to paint the sky with a watercolor brush, swirling together soft lavenders, fuchsia bursts, and burnt orange reveries.
Flynn had taken it for granted—how lucky he was to have this house, to live on the water, to be leading a life solely on his own terms. But he was starting to realize that everything was sharper with Livvy in his life. The beauty that had once been merely a backdrop was brought to startling clarity in her presence.
He sat back up and found her doing the same, treading water as she watched the sun accelerate toward the horizon, its circular blaze melting into the shape of a ridged seashell as it hit the waterline. He had floated nearer to her while on his back, and he reached out and took her hand under the water.
She looked at him and tugged him closer, so that her naked back was flush against his chest. He could feel the round shape of her ass pressing against him, and he fought back a rush of heady want as he wrapped his arms around the soft curve of her belly and held her close. She was slick and wet, like a mermaid in his arms.
It hit him then—as if she were a siren and he the poor sailor lured to his doom. A doom he welcomed with open arms. He was falling in love with her. The thought should terrify him, but instead, he was struck by how much he wanted to live in this moment. For once, he wasn’t thinking of the next conquest, his next drink, or what regatta or horse race or fast car or dame in his black book he would use as a distraction. He thought only of her—the way the undulating shape of her body fit perfectly against his, the slick sensation of their skin under the water, the breathtaking beauty they were witnessing together.
She arched her neck, leaning her head against his shoulder, and they watched the sun finish sinking beneath the horizon.
They both gasped as an electric green flash blipped in thesun’s place. It was a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, one Flynn had only seen a handful of times in all his years living in Malibu. The conditions had to be just right to generate the phenomenon.
She twisted and wrapped her hands around his neck, bestowing a light kiss on his lips. She tasted of salt water and brine, and he groaned, relishing the moment before deepening the kiss. It was more timid than the earlier kiss they had shared on his deck. As if they had realized how fragile this thing between them was.
She shocked him when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her entire naked body to his. The dappled tips of her breasts poked into his chest, cold from the water. He slipped one hand under her ass, cupping it gently to help keep her afloat, but the other he wound between them, tweaking her nipple and enjoying the gasp she emitted against his mouth. He clung to her, his tongue tangling with hers, as if they were both searching for something within the other.
