Page 41 of Enthrall Ecstasy
Eventually she waded out of the sea, carrying the surfboard up the beach, beaming with happiness. She hurried up the steps, her hair soaking wet and her cheeks flushed, dripping water. Her expression showed the adrenaline rush she was still feeling.
Last night she was sultry and stubborn and all kinds of alluring. This morning, Rue was earthy and sexy in a clinging T-shirt, now dangerously close to my type.
The type of woman I didn’t know I liked.
Through the damp shirt I saw a belly button piercing; a ruby stone through the silver.
“Don’t recall you asking permission to surf?” I playfully chastised her.
She was still my responsibility.
Rue smirked. “Good morning to you, too!”
I tipped my chin toward the ocean. “How long have you been surfing?”
“My dad taught me.” Sadness shimmered in her gaze. “How often do you surf?”
“As often as I can.”
“Why didn’t you join me?”
Because watching you riding the waves was enough.
It was what my soul needed.
“Too early for you?” she quipped.
“Not too early to spank you.”
She laughed and it rippled across the air like music.
“Didn’t you notice the alarm?” I asked.
“I was like ‘What the hell is that flashing?’ Thought it best to get out before you stopped me.”
That made me grin.
God, I’d missed this kind of banter. Missed waking up with company.
I took the surfboard from her and rested it back against the patio wall. She’d be tracking sand into the house.
“Wait in the kitchen,” I told her, and went in search of a towel.
When I returned with a large towel, Rue was sheepishly dripping water on the tile floor. Like I’d once done when I didn’t care about the small things. Before I’d been left to watch the sunrises and sunsets alone.
I ignored the fact she was naked beneath that see-through shirt.
I used the towel to dry her hair, squeezing her soaked locks. Having her tanned freckled face turned up to mine caused a shudder of awakening to run through me. It was as though these seconds were destined by some universal force. Maybe this was what I needed. Time with someone who I wasn’t intimate with, taking the pressure off me to be more.
The reddish strands deepened in color as I dried them.
Her soulful beauty seemed untouchable. I could stand here all day just drying her hair and feeling the rush of our connection.
Like a meditation.
From the way Rue slipped into subspace I knew she felt it, too.
I admired this rare creature who stared back at me with a look I knew so well. She needed to be nurtured and told she was adored—shown that, too, with everything a man could give.
