“You’re all sandy,” he murmured against my throat.
“I wonder why? Could it be because we’re at the beach?” I tried to match his playful tone.
“You’ll have to wash it off,” he said, his voice soft and seductive.
“Mmm, I suppose I shall.”
He sat up quickly so I was cradled in his lap.
“I want to help with that,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
He stood up with me still in his arms and started striding towards the sea.
“Sebastian! Don’t you dare!” I half-screamed, half-laughed.
“I’m helping!” he said, smiling broadly.
And he dunked me in the sea, fully dressed.
“Aagh!”
The water was shockingly cold.
“Sebastian!” I gasped, spitting out seawater, “I’m soaking!”
“Mmm, I’ve always wanted to see a wet T-shirt competition.”
“Sebastian!” I yelled, trying to maintain some shreds of dignity as I struggled back to the dry sand. “Just look at me! I’m furious with you!”
“What are you going to do, spank me?” he said with a wicked grin.
My mouth dropped open in shock.
“I’ll think of something,” I huffed ineffectually.
“Bring it on!” he replied, his tone amused.
I dripped back to our cozy dune and stripped off my strappy T-shirt and summer skirt, draping them across the long grass. The material of both was thin so there was a good chance they’d dry out before I had to go home. If not, well, David hadn’t looked in the laundry hamper in the 11 years we’d been married.
I turned to watch Sebastian. He dove through the waves, swimming strongly. I caught glimpses of him, silvery in the sea as he bodysurfed back to the beach. He saw me watching him, waved once and disappeared into the ocean again.
I lay back in the sand, a strange sensation of happiness filling me.
My underwear, however, was uncomfortably damp. I slipped off my bra and spread it out in the sunshine, then lay on my front, the coarse sand doing a better job of exfoliation than any expensive beauty salon.
The sun was deliciously warm on my back and I began to doze, lulled by the rhythm of the waves.
“You look so beautiful like that.”
Sebastian’s words roused me gently. His hands, however, were chilly.
“Whoa! Cold hands!”
He laughed out loud, a happy carefree sound.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”
“You didn’t try,” I muttered petulantly.
“No, not really,” he admitted. Then his voice was serious. “I want to touch you, Caro.”
“I know. I want that, too. But we have to wait.”
He groaned. “I’m going to go crazy!”
“And it’s not even a full moon.”
“I’d love to see you in moonlight,” he said softly.
His sudden change of tone made me look up. What his words did to me. No one had ever spoken to me like that. It was all so new; I was adrift in a sea of unfamiliar feelings, as innocent as Sebastian in one way at least.
I shifted my shoulders and rolled them awkwardly; I’d been lying on my front for some time.
“Are you okay?”
“Just a little stiff.”
“Shall I give you a massage?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You know why,” I said patiently.
“I think I’ll risk it,” he said and reached out, sweeping my hair from my neck, massaging my shoulders and back, running his strong, supple fingers along my spine.
The feelings that his touch ignited.
Then he knelt across me and pressed down with more force, loosening my tight muscles but stoking the flames that burned within me.
Without warning he leaned forward, kissing the nape of my neck.
I groaned and his weight pinned me down. I could feel the cool skin of his chest on my back, the chilly dampness of his sea-soaked cut-offs against my backside.
“Oh, hell!” he said suddenly, throwing himself down next to me and squeezing his eyes shut.
“What’s the matter?” I said, concerned.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Tell me!”
“I’ve got another boner,” he admitted, sounding embarrassed.