I tugged my hair back in a ponytail. “Uh, yeah. My roadname. With the motorcycle club.”
“Stop flirting, Maxwell,” Shy ordered in a muffled voice.
I rapped my knuckles against the partition. “Excuse me. You’re the only woman I flirt with, which I was trying to do when I wanted to join you in the dressing room.”
Her happy laughter filtered through the slatted door, and I peeked over the top to watch as her scanty panties dropped to the floor.
Fuck.
I was gonna be in a bad way when I saw her in the bikini.
Maybe I should’ve chosen a one-piece?
I was drooling at just the sight of her thong.
I lounged against the wall opposite Shy’s dressing room until she swung open the light barrier that separated us.
And made a mash of anything else in my head.
Except for the head . . . of my cock.
Which had a lot of appreciation for Shy’s bikini.
I shot straight up. My dick did, too. Her golden skin shimmered against the turquoise blue. Her upper arm strength showed in her silky shoulders and the deep, obvious cleavage between two miniscule triangles. Then she turned around.
“It’s Brazilian cut,” Shy chirped, the fantastic globes of her ass almost totally on show.
Fuck. Were her nipples showing, too?
Yep.
Doomed.
“I’m gonna Brazilian cut the eyes outta the first dude who leers at you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Floating, Bitches
GRABBING A COVER-UP from the racks, I gnawed off the tag after Shy’s jaw-dropping hot reveal. “Yeah. You’re putting this on right now.”
She batted her eyelashes at me. Flirty. Womanly. Knowing. “But you chose my new, almost see-through bikini.”
“Cover up. Now.” I growled.
As soon as I was sure she wouldn’t give a peepshow to everyone on the street, I ushered her out to my Chevy Nova. I used to think the classic muscle car was a thing of beauty, but it had nothing on Shy.
I tried very hard not to stare at her incredible body—almost totally on display—during the twenty-minute drive to Isle of Palms beach.
My plan had backfired as soon as my cock had turned into one thick long roll in my board shorts.
Or maybe not.
The plan was to empower her.
And Lord fucking knew she had total power over me. And my libido.
After parking, I dug out the chairs, a bag with all the essentials, a beer cooler, and umbrella.
I set everything on the sidewalk to help Shy from the car.
She grasped her crutches, and I tied another loop higher on her cover-up.
Her smile beamed up at me. “I’m not going to flash everyone with anything but my stump, hon.”
“I’m having second thoughts.”
“Because of my leg?”
I hoisted everything onto my back.
“No.” I scowled. “The bikini.”
Shy laughed loudly.
Funny. Har-har.
“Lead the way, Handsome.” She kissed my bicep. “You look ridiculously hot yourself.”
Slipping her hand down my back to my ass, Shy gave a tight squeeze.
“No more of that unless you want me sporting an even bigger boner.”
“I don’t think your shorts could withstand that.”
She wasn’t wrong.
The laces were already threatening to unravel as the head of my cock butted the low waist.
Deep breaths.
Get Shy into the water.
Don’t think about Shy. Wet and slippery in the water.
Doomed by hard-on.
I slowed my pace beside her across the parking lot, along the playground, up the wooden steps and decking that crossed the dunes.
Deep sand silted against the bottom steps that led to IoP beach.
Shy pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating the obstacle.
“Want some help?” I halted beside her.
“I can do it myself.” There was that stubborn edge to her delicate chin.
A good thing.
I wouldn’t let her fall. Hell no. But I knew Shy could do this on her own.
In the end I slung an arm around her waist as we moved from the soft, fluffy white sand onto harder packed turf. After spreading the blanket, I eased her down.
I was busy screwing the base of the umbrella into the sand when she whipped off the cover-up.
I almost fell over at the delicious sight of Shy reclining in the full sun, her golden skin shimmering, her short blonde curls shining.
That goddamn crocheted bikini I’d encouraged her to get.
Christ. I thought her tits were gonna topple out. And the bottoms barely covered her mound, held together only by two tiny bows tied at her hips.
I managed to get the umbrella sunk deep, and by that time my cock was as hard as the pole shoved into the earth.
I moved Shy’s crutches to her side as she sat up and dug through the bag I’d packed.
She pulled out the sunscreen while I tossed my shirt off.
Shy paused—her lips parted, her eyes roving over me, taking in the deep tan, the cut muscles, my long hair, and especially the ink from my shoulders to my wrists.
I flexed, putting on a show for her, and her silver-flecked eyes took an even slower trip up from my legs to my groin to my chest.
She halted at my lips.