this.”
“Used to what?” he mumbled around a mouthful of her breast, even as his hands were sliding up her spread thighs to where she was dewy and hot and already primed for him.
He propped her knees against his hips, and a gasp hitched in her throat as the hot tip of his shaft pushed into her, filling her to the hilt in one long, smooth stroke. “You being the aggressive, dominant one.”
That stopped his steady thrusts. “Oh no you don’t,” he said on a low growl. “I like you being a tiger in the bedroom.”
She reached around him and filled her palms with his muscular butt, pulling him forward as she bucked against him, lodging him deep. She grinned and bit him on the chin. “Then we’ll just have to take turns.”
He groaned as she clenched her inner muscles around him, beckoning him to finish what he’d started. “Mmmm, I definitely think that could be arranged.”
Chapter One
As the tropical storm waves tossed her like a whale with a beach ball, Sara realized her plan wasn’t going to work.
It had seemed so simple at the time. Head down to the beach, walk around in a glam-slam bikini, and attract one of the many surfers taking advantage of the high waves. Show men that she wasn’t always Serious Sara, the glasses-wearing pediatrician, but was Sexy Sara, ready for a red-hot affair. Only the surfers hadn’t even noticed the new Sara, busy surfing instead, the uncooperative jerks, and she had gotten hot pacing the beach.
A little dip in the water, and the next thing she knew she’d been sucked out twenty feet by vacuum-force winds and her mind wasn’t the only thing she’d lost.
Her bikini top was missing, too.
Kyle finished hauling out the “Beach Closed” sign and took one last survey of the water. There were still a dozen surfers in the water, riding the huge storm waves. They’d been warned the water wasn’t safe, and had refused to vacate. They were no longer Kyle’s responsibility. But he wanted to make sure there was no one else in the water.
This was a hell of a way to end his six-year stint as head lifeguard of Acadia Inlet Beach. Tropical Storm Bonnie was pummeling the Florida coast, heading their way, and he decided it was a good way to exit. No time for regrets about quitting. His toes curled in the warm sand as he prepared to turn and leave.
That’s when he saw something fifty feet out. Just a woman’s blond head bobbing in the water, arms and shoulders under the surface. Slumping forward, her position was unnatural, as if she’d lost consciousness. Kyle didn’t hesitate but ran for the water, diving in cleanly and moving toward her with smooth strokes, working harder than normal since the water was rough and choppy from the high winds.
As he reached her, Kyle caught a glimpse of startled blue eyes, her head shaking back and forth, and he was relieved she was conscious after all. He said, “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Kicking back away from him, her mouth opened in fear. The surf and wind tossed wet hair across her face, and she gave a pitiful gurgle before her head sank beneath a punishing wave.
Treading water, he wrapped his arm around her mid-section and hauled her to him, grateful to hear her cough and sputter as she reemerged. “You’re okay,” he reassured her loudly. “I’m here to help.”
She was struggling against him, a common reaction as people panicked. He slid his arm higher around her, trying to get a better grip as she clawed at him and tried to wiggle away.
Then he nearly dropped her and drowned himself. Holy crap. She wasn’t wearing a bathing suit. He was sliding on the underside of her very smooth, round breasts. Slick, firm breasts. Years of training helped him recover quickly, and he locked his arm around her before they both went under as he rationalized with himself.
It was just wet skin. It was no big deal. It was like an arm, or an ear, or a thigh … He gritted his teeth and started swimming back to shore, unwilling to
“Used to what?” he mumbled around a mouthful of her breast, even as his hands were sliding up her spread thighs to where she was dewy and hot and already primed for him.
He propped her knees against his hips, and a gasp hitched in her throat as the hot tip of his shaft pushed into her, filling her to the hilt in one long, smooth stroke. “You being the aggressive, dominant one.”
That stopped his steady thrusts. “Oh no you don’t,” he said on a low growl. “I like you being a tiger in the bedroom.”
She reached around him and filled her palms with his muscular butt, pulling him forward as she bucked against him, lodging him deep. She grinned and bit him on the chin. “Then we’ll just have to take turns.”
He groaned as she clenched her inner muscles around him, beckoning him to finish what he’d started. “Mmmm, I definitely think that could be arranged.”
Chapter One
As the tropical storm waves tossed her like a whale with a beach ball, Sara realized her plan wasn’t going to work.
It had seemed so simple at the time. Head down to the beach, walk around in a glam-slam bikini, and attract one of the many surfers taking advantage of the high waves. Show men that she wasn’t always Serious Sara, the glasses-wearing pediatrician, but was Sexy Sara, ready for a red-hot affair. Only the surfers hadn’t even noticed the new Sara, busy surfing instead, the uncooperative jerks, and she had gotten hot pacing the beach.
A little dip in the water, and the next thing she knew she’d been sucked out twenty feet by vacuum-force winds and her mind wasn’t the only thing she’d lost.
Her bikini top was missing, too.
Kyle finished hauling out the “Beach Closed” sign and took one last survey of the water. There were still a dozen surfers in the water, riding the huge storm waves. They’d been warned the water wasn’t safe, and had refused to vacate. They were no longer Kyle’s responsibility. But he wanted to make sure there was no one else in the water.
This was a hell of a way to end his six-year stint as head lifeguard of Acadia Inlet Beach. Tropical Storm Bonnie was pummeling the Florida coast, heading their way, and he decided it was a good way to exit. No time for regrets about quitting. His toes curled in the warm sand as he prepared to turn and leave.
That’s when he saw something fifty feet out. Just a woman’s blond head bobbing in the water, arms and shoulders under the surface. Slumping forward, her position was unnatural, as if she’d lost consciousness. Kyle didn’t hesitate but ran for the water, diving in cleanly and moving toward her with smooth strokes, working harder than normal since the water was rough and choppy from the high winds.
As he reached her, Kyle caught a glimpse of startled blue eyes, her head shaking back and forth, and he was relieved she was conscious after all. He said, “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Kicking back away from him, her mouth opened in fear. The surf and wind tossed wet hair across her face, and she gave a pitiful gurgle before her head sank beneath a punishing wave.
Treading water, he wrapped his arm around her mid-section and hauled her to him, grateful to hear her cough and sputter as she reemerged. “You’re okay,” he reassured her loudly. “I’m here to help.”
She was struggling against him, a common reaction as people panicked. He slid his arm higher around her, trying to get a better grip as she clawed at him and tried to wiggle away.
Then he nearly dropped her and drowned himself. Holy crap. She wasn’t wearing a bathing suit. He was sliding on the underside of her very smooth, round breasts. Slick, firm breasts. Years of training helped him recover quickly, and he locked his arm around her before they both went under as he rationalized with himself.
It was just wet skin. It was no big deal. It was like an arm, or an ear, or a thigh … He gritted his teeth and started swimming back to shore, unwilling to
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