And it’s true. I don’t care how old Logan is, he has all the control in the world combined with the stamina of a fucking teenager. Meaning, he can go again and again and again. That first night together wasn’t a one-off thing, that’s the way it is with him every night. It gives new meaning to the word insatiable.
It’s still pretty early in the morning so the dirt parking lot at Hanalei Bay isn’t too packed and it’s easy to find a spot. We walk through the pavilion where a lot of the derelicts hang out and drink their cheap beers, and head out onto the beach.
Hanalei Bay is a gorgeous spot, and, in my opinion, the prettiest beach on the island. At one end there’s the historic pier which stretches out into the water where people fish from and outrigger canoes flank the shore. In the middle, where we are, the waves are gentler and a few surf schools dot the swells, while hobby cat sailing boats are lined up on the beach, waiting to be used again in the calmer summer months.
At the far end, the more experienced surfers take the waves and the long stretch of white sand gets wilder, peppered with reef and volcanic rock. And of course the ever-present mountains of the Na Pali Coast preside over all, reminding you at all times that this island is a wondrous, magical force of nature.
Logan takes the board, carrying it with ease on his head, and starts heading down the beach away from the surfing classes and the kids until we’ve got space and privacy. In a couple of hours the beach should be packed, especially on a day like today.
“Get in,” he says, nodding at the water.
Honestly, even though the fact that I’m alone with Logan here is pretty amazing, I’m not sure if I’m sold on the whole surfing thing. I would much rather go back to his place and shove his head between my legs. My memory of surfing to “Kashmir” is a pretty good one, and I don’t want to mess that up by bailing.
“I said get in,” he says.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?”
He raises a brow, crinkling his forehead. “Well I am your boss, aren’t I?”
“Not right now,” I tell him, hands on my hips.
“Fine,” he says. Before I know what’s happening, he’s striding over and picking me up, carrying me caveman-style over his shoulder. I yelp and he starts running into the water, slicing through like there’s no resistance at all.
Then he chucks me over his head like I’m a volleyball, and I fly into the water with an ungraceful splash.
“You jerk!” I cry out as soon as I break the surface, spitting out the water. Luckily the bay here is shallow for a long time and I can easily stand on the bottom.
Logan is laughing, a full-on gorgeous sound that almost makes me forgive him. Almost.
“Well now you’re in, Freckles. Who’s the boss now?”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Just because you’re some superhuman caveman that can throw me around like a rag doll, doesn’t mean I don’t have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like…withholding sex.”
He laughs. “Right. I’ll have you changing your mind pretty soon. Now stay put. You’re surfing.”
He goes back on the beach and grabs the longboard, hauling it into the water beside us.
“Wait a minute,” I tell him, treading water where the bottom slopes into a sandy hole created by the waves. “You still owe me a surf.”
“This is about you.”
“Yes and you promised me ‘Purple Rain.’ Now get on the board and show the student who the master really is.”
“Master,” he muses, eyes twinkling. “I like the sound of that.”
I pat the board and swim toward the shore until my feet touch again. “I mean it. Sing.”
“You do realize I made that all up, don’t you?”
I stare at him in confusion. “What? Made what up?”
He bites his lip, trying to keep his smile in check. “The whole ‘sing a song and ride the wave’ deal. It was complete horseshit. Made it up on the spot.”
I blink. “Are you kidding me?”
He’s grinning now. “Nah. I just wanted to hear how bad of a singer you were.”
“You asshole!” I smack him on his arm.
“But it worked!” he protests, shrinking away from me. “You caught that wave and rode it.”
“While looking like a total idiot!”
“You only sounded like a total idiot.”
I growl at him and smack him once more. “You know what? You owe me now on principle. Get up on the damn board and sing me some Prince!”
He hesitates until I give him my most venomous look. With a heavy sigh, he concedes. “Fine, fine. I guess it’s only fair.”
“Fuck yeah it’s fair,” I tell him.
He climbs onto the board and lies on it, looking over his shoulder at the waves. There’s one swell coming that would have been too big for me.
“That one,” I tell him.
He cocks his eyebrow. “Now who’s the bossy one?”
I swim away from him, heading toward the peak of where the waves are breaking and hang back there for the best vantage point, then turn back to see him start to paddle.
“Sing, bitch!” I yell.
He gives me something like a snarl and then starts. “I never meant to cause you any sorrow.” Like his Robert Plant impression, his Prince impression is dead on.
Even so, I yell, “Louder!”
“I never meant to cause you any pain!” he sings as he glides past me, getting on the board in such an effortless manner, like it’s as second nature to him as breathing, eating, fucking. Every muscle ripples, from his rigid abs, to his shoulders to his arms, and he truly looks one with the board, with the ocean, with the world.
“Purple rain,” he belts out, over and over again as he cruises toward the shore, the water shredding behind him. Once he reaches the beach, he hops off, grabs the board and comes back in towards me.
“Well?” he asks, pushing his wet hair off his forehead, a wet Adonis.
“That was something else,” I admit. “Color me impressed.”
“Color you purple?”
“Color me anything. You’re a triple threat. You can sing, surf and…”
“Make you come like crazy.”
My cheeks grow hot. I like to think it’s the sun. “Well in that case it’s countless since you have this habit of making me come over and over again.”
“You got a problem with that?” he murmurs, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him. His eyes have gone from being light and teasing to half-glazed with arousal.
It’s funny how just a look from him can get my body humming and ticking like a finely tuned engine. I wrap my legs around his waist and he slips his fingers to the front of my bathing suit, rubbing them against me.
“Here?” I ask, looking around. We are definitely in public and though the nearest surfers are about halfway down the beach and there are some people sunbathing on shore, I have no doubt it would be pretty obvious if we were to screw right here and now.
Then again, I’m living a world of firsts lately.
“No one will know,” he whispers, leaning over and taking my lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it.
Before I Ever Met You
Karina Halle's books
- Ashes to Ashes (Experiment in Terror #8)
- Come Alive (Experiment in Terror #7)
- Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1)
- Dead Sky Morning (Experiment in Terror #3)
- Into the Hollow (Experiment in Terror #6)
- Lying Season (Experiment in Terror #4)
- On Demon Wings (Experiment in Terror #5)
- Red Fox (Experiment in Terror #2)
- Come Alive
- LYING SEASON (BOOK #4 IN THE EXPERIMENT IN TERROR SERIES)
- Ashes to Ashes (Experiment in Terror #8)
- Dust to Dust