Page 36 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
By the time they reached Newcomb Hollow Beach, the sun had dipped low in the sky and the waves looked enticing. Emery was excited and nervous about learning to surf, and she was glad that Dean was going to teach her instead of Brody. She was equally aware and excited by her newly discovered—accepted?—feelings toward Dean.
Brisk ocean air swept up the dune, bringing a world of freeing sensations with it. Emery had forgotten how different it felt to be at the ocean than the bay. The bay was calming, while the ocean seemed to rejuvenate her entire being. She reveled in the way the salty air made her skin feel tacky as they kicked off their flip-flops and stepped into the warm sand. She carried the towels and wet suits down the steep walkway toward the beach. Dean had a surfboard under each arm. She walked behind him, trying not to stare at his perfect butt beneath his swim trunks, but what else was there to look at? A beach full of swimmers? No one compared to him. Not in looks, or as much as he’d hate hearing it, not in sweetness, either. His heart was as tender as his muscles were strong.
There wentherheart again, quickening, making it hard to breathe. That organ she’d never paid much attention to wasn’t fading back into the background anytime soon.
Dean set the boards on the shore and took the wet suits and towels from her, setting them down, too. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the sand, exposing another of his most dangerous weapons—his powerful physique. She was dying to know the meaning behind the ink covering his shoulder, biceps, and pecs, but each time she’d brought it up over the last few months he’d changed the subject. Now that her true emotions had not just surfaced, but crashed into her like rolling waves against the shore, she was more curious than ever.
Dean stretched his arms over his head, then out to the sides, twisting and stretching. His muscles pulsed as he flaunted every angle of his deliciousness. Suddenly Emery was very hungry.Ravenous.
He laced his long, thick fingers together and extended his arms forward with another deep stretch. Her spine tingled with the memory of how those adept fingers felt on her skin as they trailed down her ribs and beneath the hem of her shorts.
Dean stepped closer, his blue eyes boring into her. She must have been dipped in ice for all these months to have kept her distance, because his eyes, his very presence…She could catch fire from the heat of this man.
“You ready to get wet, doll?” he asked with a haughty look.
Oh boy…
Chapter Ten
DEAN HAD THOUGHT covering up that skimpy bikini he’d been fantasizing about stripping off Emery all day would make it easier to concentrate on teaching her to surf. But it turned out that helping Emery into a wet suit was even more of a lesson in self-control than the bikini had been. She wiggled her hips, shimmied her shoulders, arched and stretched, all of which caused her luscious curves to appear even more pronounced and tempting. When she was finally zipped in tight, her gorgeous body encased in black neoprene, she lookedabsolutelyscorching hot.
Emery was back to being her sassy self, complaining about being shown how to wax her board and about having to practice the various stages of surfing—paddling, popping up to her feet, proper stance—on the sand before getting in the water. She was a spitfire of rebellion, and she tried his patience at every turn. While that should be a great mood killer, coming from Emery, it was also strangely a huge turn-on. He prayed he could control himself long enough to get into the water, because there was no hiding being aroused in a wet suit.
He left his board on the shore, wanting to beright thereif she needed him. “Remember, you want to cut through the waves head-on, not at a glancing angle, or you’ll lose your momentum.”
Emery dropped her board in thigh-high water. One hand on the board, the other shading her eyes, she scanned the water. “What if I see a shark?”
“Don’t try to pet it.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He looked her dead in the eyes, recognizing the fear lingering there. “It’s an ocean, and there are sharks. We have a high seal population. But the chance of you encountering one is slim.”
“Not helpful. The chances that I’d end up living in your house and getting all hot and bothered because ofyouwere less thanslimwhen I arrived.”
He chuckled. “Duly noted. If you see a shark, keep it in sight as you head for shore.”
“And when it chomps my leg off?” she asked.
“Hope it doesn’t like the way you taste and get out of there.”
Her jaw gaped.
“Emery,” he said in his most reassuring tone, “I will be nearby. If there’s a shark, my priority will be to get you out of the water, even if that means taking a hit myself.”
She sighed nervously. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Want to skip surfing?”
She shook her head.
“Want to paddle out and see how you feel? Find your sweet spot on the board?” As he said the wordssweet spothis body heated up again. He walked into deeper water, submerging his lower half, and said, “If you’re too frightened, you’re not going to get up on the board. You’ll just get frustrated.”
She gazed out at the sea. “I’m not too scared.” In the next breath, she was on her board, plowing through the waves head-on, just as he’d advised.
Dean swam after her, impressed with her resilience. When she began drifting sideways, he grabbed her butt, redirecting her.
She glowered.
