Cherish Hard
Page 51
“We could go to bed together.”
“We don’t sleep when we’re together.”
No, they didn’t, both of them desperate to drink each other in.
Scowling, Sailor considered his options. But he already knew his Ísa far too well to think he could budge her—when it came to the people who mattered to her, Ísa was a stone wall. “Tomorrow then,” he said, becoming a stone wall himself. “We’re going to have a birthday celebration.”
A wary scowl. “Why?”
“Because I said so.” He kissed her on the nose.
Eyebrows drawing even more heavily over her eyes, she said, “What are you planning?”
29
Watch out for the Deadly Face-Eating Fish
ÍSA WOKE, STILL NOT KNOWING what Sailor was planning. He’d teased her unmercifully last night, told her to wear a swimsuit and something over the top to protect herself from the sun, but wouldn’t tell her which beach he intended for them to visit.
Not that it mattered.
Ísa was already beyond charmed at the idea that he was throwing her a private birthday celebration. He could have no idea how much that meant to her. She was waiting for him in the lobby of her apartment building when he drove his truck into the parking lot. Having missed waking up to his kiss, she immediately headed out with her beach-ready tote bag.
He threw open the passenger door from the inside, all gorgeous male appreciation of her—though she was wearing a tankini over which she’d pulled on a pair of shorts and a floaty white garment that covered her arms.
Her legs were a matching flash-fire white.
But where she saw a wraith, he saw a woman who made his eyes glint with sexual heat. “I love your skin,” he murmured as she got in, placing one big hand on her thigh and stroking as he leaned in for a kiss.
How was Ísa supposed to resist him when he said things like that? And then he touched her as if she were some precious Rubens painting, his own breath turning uneven by the time the kiss ended.
“Hold that thought,” he ordered before putting the truck in gear and pulling out.
It took Ísa a few minutes to find her brain cells again. “What’s in that odd-looking duffel bag on the back seat?” It was tubular in shape and seemed to be made of waterproof fabric.
“My beach gear, plus I made us a picnic.”
Grinning at his open pride, she said, “Which beach are we going to hang out at?”
His chuckle sent all her instincts prickling. “A very nice one.”
Ísa narrowed her eyes. “Sailor, we are going to go lie on a beach and read books and drink champagne right?”
“Sure. After.”
“After what?”
“You’ll see.”
No matter what Ísa threatened, he wouldn’t tell her his plans. And then, a half hour later, they were obvious. He parked his truck in a spot not far from Mission Bay. But the actual bay closest to where they’d stopped—Okahu—was the hub of a kayak-rental business.
“Tell me we’re not going kayaking,” she asked, making no effort to hide her horror.
He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Trust me, spitfire. I’ll keep you safe.”
“That’s not the point, Sailor. I can’t row those stupid things!” The last time she’d tried had been during a high school camp, having been forced into the “fun” activity by a teacher who hadn’t understood Ísa’s lack of coordination. “I’ll drown and the fish will eat my face.”
“I’ve got you covered.”
“Oh, are you going to magically row my spindly death boat?”
Laughing, he just tugged her down to the rental place, where they showed him to the double kayak he’d already apparently booked.
“You could’ve told me,” she said to the demon by her side.
He chucked her under the chin with a playfulness that made her stomach go all fluttery. “Why?” he said. “It was so much fun having you send me death rays with your eyes.”
“You haven’t seen my death ray eyes yet,” Ísa muttered while putting on the lifejacket he gave her. She was glad to see him donning one too. Sailor was strong and athletic, but she’d feel better if they were both protected even though they’d just be paddling about in the relatively sheltered waters of the bay.
Then she saw him placing the tubular duffel into a hatch in back of the kayak after removing a few items. That done, he picked up her tote, added the bottles of juice he’d pulled out from his bag, and put the entire tote into another bag that looked waterproof before placing it in a hatch at the front of the kayak that the person sitting up front could easily access. He neatly sealed up both hatches.
Ísa swallowed. “Sailor, how far are we going?” There wasn’t anything out there except the islands of the Hauraki Gulf.
Oh God.
“Please don’t say Rangitoto.” The dormant volcano was a dramatic triangular shape on the horizon—and it was really, really, really far away.
“Okay.” He shot her a grin. “We’re going to Motutapu. It’s just behind Rangitoto.”
“I know where it is.” Even farther away. “In case you missed it, ferries cross that water. Yachts zip across it. No one’s going to notice a toothpick-thin kayak. Those face-eating fish are going to get a good meal out of the two of us.”
Her dark prediction only made Sailor’s grin widen. “Trust me on this, birthday girl. I can take us the whole way, and I know how to dodge or ride the wake from the larger craft.” A grip on her chin, a quick kiss. “Come on, where’s my wild, skinny-dipping Ísa?”
“She’s scared of face-eating fish,” Ísa muttered but grabbed her floppy hat from the tote and stuffed it on her head. “Will this stay on?” Even slathered in sunscreen, her face would be fried bacon if she went out on the water without a hat. The sunscreen should protect her legs, but she could always throw her towel across them if the skin began to go pink.
Sailor tied up the tote handles for her again. “Wind’s calm, so yeah.” Sliding his hand up her calf and higher, he rose to his feet. “Let’s go celebrate your birthday in style.”
Wanting to do her bit now that she’d agreed to this insanity, Ísa helped him lift the kayak. Once it was on the soft white sand, just nudging the water, Sailor made her get into the front seat. “I can control it better from the back,” he told her. “And with our gear pretty balanced, the heavier person should be at the back.”
Ísa’s lips parted in an instinctive demurral… when she realized he was heavier. All that muscle on a six-two frame made him deliciously heavy when he was on top in bed. Two days ago, he’d talked her into being on top. And then he’d talked dirty to her until she’d ridden him like he was a thoroughbred.
“Fuck me, Ísa. Just like that, baby.”
“You’re so good at this, sweetheart.”
“You have the body of a centerfold.”
Cheeks flushing at the memory of his harsh, sexy words before his back bowed in a shuddering orgasm, she took her seat.
Sailor put her paddle across the front and told her to hold on to the middle.
“Got it,” Ísa said just as a small wave crashed over the bow and washed away the erotic echoes from their night together.
“We don’t sleep when we’re together.”
No, they didn’t, both of them desperate to drink each other in.
Scowling, Sailor considered his options. But he already knew his Ísa far too well to think he could budge her—when it came to the people who mattered to her, Ísa was a stone wall. “Tomorrow then,” he said, becoming a stone wall himself. “We’re going to have a birthday celebration.”
A wary scowl. “Why?”
“Because I said so.” He kissed her on the nose.
Eyebrows drawing even more heavily over her eyes, she said, “What are you planning?”
29
Watch out for the Deadly Face-Eating Fish
ÍSA WOKE, STILL NOT KNOWING what Sailor was planning. He’d teased her unmercifully last night, told her to wear a swimsuit and something over the top to protect herself from the sun, but wouldn’t tell her which beach he intended for them to visit.
Not that it mattered.
Ísa was already beyond charmed at the idea that he was throwing her a private birthday celebration. He could have no idea how much that meant to her. She was waiting for him in the lobby of her apartment building when he drove his truck into the parking lot. Having missed waking up to his kiss, she immediately headed out with her beach-ready tote bag.
He threw open the passenger door from the inside, all gorgeous male appreciation of her—though she was wearing a tankini over which she’d pulled on a pair of shorts and a floaty white garment that covered her arms.
Her legs were a matching flash-fire white.
But where she saw a wraith, he saw a woman who made his eyes glint with sexual heat. “I love your skin,” he murmured as she got in, placing one big hand on her thigh and stroking as he leaned in for a kiss.
How was Ísa supposed to resist him when he said things like that? And then he touched her as if she were some precious Rubens painting, his own breath turning uneven by the time the kiss ended.
“Hold that thought,” he ordered before putting the truck in gear and pulling out.
It took Ísa a few minutes to find her brain cells again. “What’s in that odd-looking duffel bag on the back seat?” It was tubular in shape and seemed to be made of waterproof fabric.
“My beach gear, plus I made us a picnic.”
Grinning at his open pride, she said, “Which beach are we going to hang out at?”
His chuckle sent all her instincts prickling. “A very nice one.”
Ísa narrowed her eyes. “Sailor, we are going to go lie on a beach and read books and drink champagne right?”
“Sure. After.”
“After what?”
“You’ll see.”
No matter what Ísa threatened, he wouldn’t tell her his plans. And then, a half hour later, they were obvious. He parked his truck in a spot not far from Mission Bay. But the actual bay closest to where they’d stopped—Okahu—was the hub of a kayak-rental business.
“Tell me we’re not going kayaking,” she asked, making no effort to hide her horror.
He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Trust me, spitfire. I’ll keep you safe.”
“That’s not the point, Sailor. I can’t row those stupid things!” The last time she’d tried had been during a high school camp, having been forced into the “fun” activity by a teacher who hadn’t understood Ísa’s lack of coordination. “I’ll drown and the fish will eat my face.”
“I’ve got you covered.”
“Oh, are you going to magically row my spindly death boat?”
Laughing, he just tugged her down to the rental place, where they showed him to the double kayak he’d already apparently booked.
“You could’ve told me,” she said to the demon by her side.
He chucked her under the chin with a playfulness that made her stomach go all fluttery. “Why?” he said. “It was so much fun having you send me death rays with your eyes.”
“You haven’t seen my death ray eyes yet,” Ísa muttered while putting on the lifejacket he gave her. She was glad to see him donning one too. Sailor was strong and athletic, but she’d feel better if they were both protected even though they’d just be paddling about in the relatively sheltered waters of the bay.
Then she saw him placing the tubular duffel into a hatch in back of the kayak after removing a few items. That done, he picked up her tote, added the bottles of juice he’d pulled out from his bag, and put the entire tote into another bag that looked waterproof before placing it in a hatch at the front of the kayak that the person sitting up front could easily access. He neatly sealed up both hatches.
Ísa swallowed. “Sailor, how far are we going?” There wasn’t anything out there except the islands of the Hauraki Gulf.
Oh God.
“Please don’t say Rangitoto.” The dormant volcano was a dramatic triangular shape on the horizon—and it was really, really, really far away.
“Okay.” He shot her a grin. “We’re going to Motutapu. It’s just behind Rangitoto.”
“I know where it is.” Even farther away. “In case you missed it, ferries cross that water. Yachts zip across it. No one’s going to notice a toothpick-thin kayak. Those face-eating fish are going to get a good meal out of the two of us.”
Her dark prediction only made Sailor’s grin widen. “Trust me on this, birthday girl. I can take us the whole way, and I know how to dodge or ride the wake from the larger craft.” A grip on her chin, a quick kiss. “Come on, where’s my wild, skinny-dipping Ísa?”
“She’s scared of face-eating fish,” Ísa muttered but grabbed her floppy hat from the tote and stuffed it on her head. “Will this stay on?” Even slathered in sunscreen, her face would be fried bacon if she went out on the water without a hat. The sunscreen should protect her legs, but she could always throw her towel across them if the skin began to go pink.
Sailor tied up the tote handles for her again. “Wind’s calm, so yeah.” Sliding his hand up her calf and higher, he rose to his feet. “Let’s go celebrate your birthday in style.”
Wanting to do her bit now that she’d agreed to this insanity, Ísa helped him lift the kayak. Once it was on the soft white sand, just nudging the water, Sailor made her get into the front seat. “I can control it better from the back,” he told her. “And with our gear pretty balanced, the heavier person should be at the back.”
Ísa’s lips parted in an instinctive demurral… when she realized he was heavier. All that muscle on a six-two frame made him deliciously heavy when he was on top in bed. Two days ago, he’d talked her into being on top. And then he’d talked dirty to her until she’d ridden him like he was a thoroughbred.
“Fuck me, Ísa. Just like that, baby.”
“You’re so good at this, sweetheart.”
“You have the body of a centerfold.”
Cheeks flushing at the memory of his harsh, sexy words before his back bowed in a shuddering orgasm, she took her seat.
Sailor put her paddle across the front and told her to hold on to the middle.
“Got it,” Ísa said just as a small wave crashed over the bow and washed away the erotic echoes from their night together.
