wooden stairs two at a time.
Jack disappeared inside but returned seconds later, at least it seemed that way to Izzy, with a couple of blankets tucked under his arm.
She searched her slacks for pockets, finding none, and wondered where she could find herself a good pair of jeans. Letting her interest drift to him, she tucked her fingertips inside her waistband.
They strolled along the water’s edge, mostly in silence, until they reached the outer barrier of his secret spot.
Jack offered a hand and helped her climb over the giant rocks. The stones’ cold surfaces chilled Izzy’s bare feet and she wanted to get to the other side.
Nearing the secluded alcove, she jumped off the boulder closest to the ground, sinking her feet into the sand.
“Wow.” She wiggled her toes in the shoreline. “This place is way cool.”
“Way cool, huh?” He chuckled.
Izzy propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the landscape. That feeling of familiarity bombarded her again. Had she been here before? No. That wasn’t it. Still, something felt familiar about the site. Something sexy, sultry and sensuous. The perfect locale for an intimate encounter.
That’s it . “This place reminds me of From Here to Eternity .”
“From where?” Jack dropped the blankets and looked around.
“The movie. The scene where Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are...” Her words trailed off as images from the film flashed in her mind. Teased by the prospect of replaying the beach scene with Jack, she blushed, hoping the darkness hid her embarrassment.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen that one.” He grabbed the blankets and laid them out at the base of the rock formation, away from the shoreline.
“It’s a classic.” Déjà vu poured over her. She strolled to the water’s edge, dipping her toes. It was warm. Good. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Not that I recall.” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and ambled toward her. “Tell me more about the scene from that movie,” he urged with a devilish glint in his eyes.
“Hey, you want to go swimming?” she asked with all the eagerness of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Swimming?” His skepticism matched her enthusiasm.
“Sure. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” She shot him what she hoped was an enticing smile. Just in case that didn’t work out, she popped each button on her blouse slowly, seductively before tossing the garment aside, thinking her bra and panties should serve as adequate swimwear.
Shimmying out of the funky slacks, she almost lost it, staring down at her brief-styled underwear. What the hell ? Confusion, strange yet curious, ran through her thoughts. What had possessed her to go with the granny-panties look?
Jack thought about backing out of Isabelle’s invite—for about two seconds. He tore at his shirt, buttons popping, and then slid out of his blue jeans with expertise. Wearing nothing but his boxers and a slight grin, he moved toward her, stopping a foot or two away.
Izzy kicked the water, splashing him with a brisk spray. Her laughter filled the air and he smiled at her playful carefree nature. He loved her spunk, her tenacity, and her ability to make him smile.
Jack lunged at her, half-teasing, half-serious, and she took off running. He caught up with her at a steep bluff on the far side. Invading from behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Izzy wriggled flirtatiouslyin his embrace. Her behavior encouraged him to relax his hold a bit, and she twisted around to face him. When her arms slid around his neck, he didn’t see the sense in fighting it anymore.
He tasted her—something he’d been dying to do from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. She tightened her embrace, and to his surprise, parted her lips with an open invitation.
He let her nudge him down to the wet sand, gladly obliging her unspoken request to tower over her. He dug his knees and his hands into the damp sand and
Jack disappeared inside but returned seconds later, at least it seemed that way to Izzy, with a couple of blankets tucked under his arm.
She searched her slacks for pockets, finding none, and wondered where she could find herself a good pair of jeans. Letting her interest drift to him, she tucked her fingertips inside her waistband.
They strolled along the water’s edge, mostly in silence, until they reached the outer barrier of his secret spot.
Jack offered a hand and helped her climb over the giant rocks. The stones’ cold surfaces chilled Izzy’s bare feet and she wanted to get to the other side.
Nearing the secluded alcove, she jumped off the boulder closest to the ground, sinking her feet into the sand.
“Wow.” She wiggled her toes in the shoreline. “This place is way cool.”
“Way cool, huh?” He chuckled.
Izzy propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the landscape. That feeling of familiarity bombarded her again. Had she been here before? No. That wasn’t it. Still, something felt familiar about the site. Something sexy, sultry and sensuous. The perfect locale for an intimate encounter.
That’s it . “This place reminds me of From Here to Eternity .”
“From where?” Jack dropped the blankets and looked around.
“The movie. The scene where Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are...” Her words trailed off as images from the film flashed in her mind. Teased by the prospect of replaying the beach scene with Jack, she blushed, hoping the darkness hid her embarrassment.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen that one.” He grabbed the blankets and laid them out at the base of the rock formation, away from the shoreline.
“It’s a classic.” Déjà vu poured over her. She strolled to the water’s edge, dipping her toes. It was warm. Good. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Not that I recall.” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and ambled toward her. “Tell me more about the scene from that movie,” he urged with a devilish glint in his eyes.
“Hey, you want to go swimming?” she asked with all the eagerness of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Swimming?” His skepticism matched her enthusiasm.
“Sure. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” She shot him what she hoped was an enticing smile. Just in case that didn’t work out, she popped each button on her blouse slowly, seductively before tossing the garment aside, thinking her bra and panties should serve as adequate swimwear.
Shimmying out of the funky slacks, she almost lost it, staring down at her brief-styled underwear. What the hell ? Confusion, strange yet curious, ran through her thoughts. What had possessed her to go with the granny-panties look?
Jack thought about backing out of Isabelle’s invite—for about two seconds. He tore at his shirt, buttons popping, and then slid out of his blue jeans with expertise. Wearing nothing but his boxers and a slight grin, he moved toward her, stopping a foot or two away.
Izzy kicked the water, splashing him with a brisk spray. Her laughter filled the air and he smiled at her playful carefree nature. He loved her spunk, her tenacity, and her ability to make him smile.
Jack lunged at her, half-teasing, half-serious, and she took off running. He caught up with her at a steep bluff on the far side. Invading from behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Izzy wriggled flirtatiouslyin his embrace. Her behavior encouraged him to relax his hold a bit, and she twisted around to face him. When her arms slid around his neck, he didn’t see the sense in fighting it anymore.
He tasted her—something he’d been dying to do from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. She tightened her embrace, and to his surprise, parted her lips with an open invitation.
He let her nudge him down to the wet sand, gladly obliging her unspoken request to tower over her. He dug his knees and his hands into the damp sand and
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