It’s midafternoon, and I’ve been mulling over my options for the past couple of hours. It’s crossed my mind that I could go out tonight and find a pretty distraction at a local bar. Injured shoulder or not, I could show someone a good time, and it would certainly help my ego. But for some reason, the idea of doing that when Lucia is here seems disrespectful. So I reject the thought,just like I have the last half dozen times it’s occurred to me. Instead, I decide to investigate the company I already have.
I find Lucia on the deck, where she’s been sporadically typing for the past few hours. Her fingers are still now, her eyes flicking over the screen, and she makes a sound of disapproval in the back of her throat.
“Hey,” I say as I stand in the open doorway behind her. “How’s the story coming?”
“Ugh.” She spins around, her nostrils flaring with annoyance. “It’s not. It was finally working out, but then I went and got stuck again.”
I hide my smile. I shouldn’t be pleased by her problems, but I’m hoping they mean she won’t be opposed to doing something else for a while. “Do you want to head down to the water? Might do you good to have a break.”
She purses her lips, then nods briskly. “Great idea. Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll change into my swimsuit.”
Swimsuit?
Damn, I hadn’t considered that. I hope whatever she’s brought with her covers plenty of skin. The last thing I need is to get the full image of what I want but can’t have. Lucia is a forbidden temptation, and she doesn’t even know it.
“All right. I’ll change too.” If she’s going to be stripping, there’s a good chance I’ll need to cool off before the afternoon is done. “Meet back here in five?”
“Perfect.” She closes her laptop.
I go to the master bedroom and spend a few minutes thinking unsexy thoughts before changing in time to meet her. She’s wearing a colorful wrap that’s tied at the back of her neck and falls to mid-thigh, covering anything that might be revealed by a swimsuit. I have a brief moment of gratitude.
“You ready?” she asks.
“Yep.” We leave via the glass doors on the deck, and I notice she’s taken her laptop inside. I lock them behind us and place the key beneath a small garden ornament, then we walk down the stairs and onto the beach. The sand is warm and soft between my toes. I didn’t bother with shoes because they’d only end up full of sand. I scan the ground in front of me, making sure there’s nothing sharp to step on, before returning my attention to the waves. They’re halfway down the beach, but at high tide, the water nears the cottage. As we get closer to the edge of the surf, the sand firms and becomes damp. I pause just outside reach of the waves, noticing Lucia do the same. Another wave rolls up, stopping short of my toes, and I step forward, flinching at how cold it is on my sun-warmed skin.
“How bad is it?” Lucia asks.
“It’s just right,” I fib, wondering if she’ll buy it.
She dips a toe in and hisses. “Liar!” But she doesn’t snatch her foot back. She lowers it fully into the sea and wades deeper, until the water reaches her calves. “I don’t think it’ll be too bad once we get used to it.”
How long does she plan to stay in the water?
The question dies on my lips as she reaches up and undoes her wrap. It flutters around her waist, slowly showing more of her gorgeous skin. She tosses the wrap onto the beach, and I swallow. Hard. She’s wearing a one-piece, but it’s nothing like any other one-piece I’ve seen. It displays a ridiculous amount of cleavage while nipping in around her waist and dropping almost all the way to her ass in the back. The fabric seems to mold to her curves, revealing and concealing teasingly. My cock plumps in my trunks, and I stay very still, hoping she won’t look down. She gives me a wink and then, with no warning, runs into the water and dives headfirst into the waves. I hurry after because once she surfaces, I run the risk of her seeing my erection.
Fuck, it’s cold.
On the upside, my cock can’t stand at attention while chilly water is rising up my thighs and cupping my balls.
Thank God.
Lucia breaks through the waves, throwing her head back to get her hair out of her eyes. Water sprays from the long tresses in an arc, and I lose my ability to speak as she opens her beautiful blue eyes and flashes me a mischievous smile.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
“Come on, scaredy cat,” she calls.
I roll my eyes. I’m too old to be bated by silly dares, aren’t I?
But then she turns and dives back in, swimming out a little deeper, and with a sigh, I follow. When she looks at me as though I’ve made her day, I realize there aren’t many places I wouldn’t follow her. And that scares me. Because the thoughts I’m having about her aren’t fleeting, and I can’t offer anything permanent. Forever isn’t in the cards for me, which means Lucia isn’t for me—no matter how much I may wish she was.
Lucia
Tony Romano in swimming trunks is a sight worthy of being on one of those sexy calendars as Mr. January. He’s tall, toned perfection, with a deep V grooving the front of his hips and a bajillion ab muscles popping all over the place. Despite the injury, his shoulders bulge with muscles and his chest is strong with a fine smattering of hair. I want to lick his dark, flat nipples. But I force myself to look away and paddle further from him instead. Not deeper, though, because I don’t want him to have to swim with his torn tendon.
I remind myself, once again, Tony isn’t interested in me. He has a reputation with women. He doesn’t have a type assuch—unless stunningly beautiful is a type. Whether they’re conventionally pretty, sultry seductresses, or fierce athletes, his dates are undeniably confident and gorgeous.
Then there’s me.
