Heat Wave

“All right. Get your bathing suit on and meet me at the Jeep.” He turns and heads back across the lawn.

Still not sure if this is innuendo or not. By “bathing suit” does he mean fancy bra and underwear? By Jeep does he mean his house? But to be safe I put on my bikini and a rash guard shirt and grab a towel before I head outside.

“Where are you going?” Kate asks, leaning against the door to reception and fanning her face with a brochure. A gecko climbs up the wall beside her but she pays it no attention.

“Surfing,” I tell her.

“With Charlie?”

I jerk my head toward the parking lot where Logan’s pulling his Jeep around, a longboard sticking out the back. “No. Don’t worry. The habut.”

She narrows her eyes slightly. “Hmmm. Somehow this isn’t surprising.”

I shrug and try to play it off. “Hey, he got me riding my first wave, not Charlie. I think the Australian knows a little more than the dude from Colorado.”

“Do you know who knows better than both of them?” she asks and sticks her thumb into her chest. “Me.”

“Well if our schedules ever match up, then maybe.” I start to walk away and throw a saucy look over my shoulder at her. “Or maybe I’ll be so good by then, you’ll be getting lessons from me?”

I don’t have to keep looking to know she’s rolling her eyes.

Meanwhile Logan is in the driver’s seat of his Jeep, dark aviator sunglasses covering his eyes and a cocky grin on his lips. “Get in, Freckles.”

I quickly climb in the passenger seat and we burn out of the parking lot, taking a left at the road and heading to Hanalei.

“Are we really going surfing?” I ask.

“What did you think we were doing?”

“I don’t know. Having sex?”

“Woman, you’re going to tire me out, you know that?”

I laugh. “I know firsthand that’s impossible.”

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.”