Slippery When Wet. Kristin Hardy
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along her legs, idly watching a pair of topless women walking up the beach. What must it feel like to have the sun warm your bare breasts, skin that hadn’t felt the caress of the sun in years, if ever?
It was a surprisingly enticing notion, she thought as she smoothed the coconut-scented lotion along her arms. Intriguing.
Tempting.
A woman on a sun couch nearby chattered something in what sounded like Italian to her male companion and turned to lie on her back. He made a pretend grab for one of her breasts and she batted his hands away laughingly.
Like night and day compared to what she’d known, Taylor thought, remembering her ex-husband Bennett, who’d had a positive aversion to sexually assertive women.
At least when the woman in question was his wife.
Taylor shook her head as she spread sunblock on her neck and chest. The past was the past. She wasn’t the woman he’d cheated on, the demoralized mouse that he’d bullied into submission anymore. She’d ignored Bennett’s rants and forced through the divorce. So what if marriage was just one more thing she hadn’t finished? She’d been so focused on living down her family reputation as a quitter that she’d stayed in the marriage long after she’d realized it was toxic. Some things weren’t meant to be finished. It was just as well that she’d gotten on with her life.
But had she? Taylor set the bottle in the sand. Until Bennett, she’d been quick to have a good time, quick to be outrageous. Before she’d quit college to marry him, those were the qualities—her sexiness, her wildness—that had drawn him. Then it had all come to a screeching halt. Since the divorce, since she’d gotten free of him, she’d rebuilt her self-esteem. She’d thrown herself into work and made a success of herself. It gave her pride. On the other hand, it had also taken all of her time and energy, leaving none for her private life.
No more, she thought in a sudden surge of recklessness. It was time to do something outrageous, time to live life like the old Taylor. After all, she was on vacation.
The Italian woman gave a magnificent roar of laughter, propping herself up on her elbows and giving her mane of hair a shake. Taylor lay back and closed her eyes. How Bennett would have hated the very idea of women sitting topless on a beach, though that wouldn’t have stopped him from leering. And the very idea of Taylor doing anything so brazen, well, it would have given him a stroke.
A rush of daring whisked through her. Taylor’s eyes opened and a slow smile spread across her face. Why shouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if anyone knew her here. She was thousands of miles from home. Going topless here was hardly outré—it was accepted. And wouldn’t it feel marvelous, she thought as the sun soaked into her bones. Wouldn’t it be amazing to be so free?
Before she could change her mind, she sat up and reached back to unhook her bikini top, shrugging so that the shoulder straps fell down to dangle against her arms. She took a deep breath, for courage. And then it was off and her breasts were swaying free.
The skies didn’t part with lightning to strike her. The nattily attired resort security guard didn’t swoop down in agitation. Basically, no one noticed.
Except her.
It was the breeze that surprised her most of all, the feel of air whispering lightly over skin unaccustomed to its touch. She felt wonderfully decadent and yet somehow at ease. The sun was like a warm kiss, making her laugh even as she resisted the urge to glance down to see if her nipples were hard. No one would notice if they were, she reminded herself, there were plenty of others around to look at. Closing her eyes, she lay back and basked in the heat.
Moments later, visions of sunburn and melanoma chasing through her head, she groped for the bottle of sunblock. Skin that hadn’t seen the sun since she’d been a toddler—if even then—needed all the protection it could get. Leaning back on one elbow, she used the other hand to rub the lotion into her breast. She wouldn’t feel bashful about touching herself, she told herself sternly. It was skin like any other on her body. She just needed to protect it, that was all. And yet the feel of her lotion-slicked palm rubbing over her nipple sent a surprising jolt through her system, making her yearn for more.
Now there was a sad statement on her nonexistent love live, if just putting sunblock on her breasts could turn her on. Of course, there really hadn’t been anyone since Bennett. She’d focused on everything but her needs for far too long, Taylor realized suddenly.
Closing her eyes and settling back, she relaxed. What a person could do with a lover in the tropics. The sunlight shone red-orange through her lids. How would it be to have a man’s hand stroking the sunblock on her body slowly, teasingly, the delicious friction of skin against skin bringing her to arousal? Her imagination painted them naked on a deserted beach, immersed in the feel of each other’s bodies. Alone but for sun and sand, they reached for abandonment and beyond. His hand slid down over her breasts, across her belly, touching her the way she hadn’t been touched in so long. The caress moved to her hips, up her thighs, slipping into the slick—
“Careful you don’t get burned there. That skin’s awfully pale,” said a voice.
A male voice. A voice that was vaguely familiar, she thought with the first glimmer of uneasiness. The red haze of the sun on her eyelids had darkened, as though someone were casting a shadow over her. She opened her eyes.
And saw Dev Carson grinning down at her.
2
EMBARRASSMENT, COMPLETE, paralyzing embarrassment. No, it was worse than embarrassment, worse than mortification. Words didn’t exist for how she felt just then.
“You’d better try some more sunblock on your face. It’s looking pretty red,” he said, not even trying to cover up the amusement in his voice. Oh, no, he was enjoying his moment fully.
It was a good thing one of them was.
Taylor reached out for her bikini top, her sarong, anything to cover up her bare breasts from his all-too-knowing eyes.
“Looking for this?” He held out her bikini top and grinned. “I don’t know, pale skin like yours, you really ought to be more careful of the sun.”
She refused to make a grab for the top. Instead she flipped over to lie on her stomach, her face flaming. What was he doing here? she thought wildly. According to the papers she’d seen, he should have been back in Baltimore long since. Maybe if she pretended she couldn’t see him, he’d go away. Except that she hadn’t put any sunblock on her back and already she could feel the sun’s heat soaking in.
And he showed no signs of leaving. Instead he crouched down by her lounger, treating her to an up close view of a truly amazing set of six-pack abs. What she could see of the rest of him looked even better. Great, she was half-naked in front of a stranger and here she was salivating over the way his biceps flowed up into the smooth spheres of his shoulders. Half of her, anyway. The other half was hoping for the sand to open up and swallow her.
Relax, Taylor, she told herself. Humiliation was rarely fatal, and if Mr. Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love was having a bit of fun at her expense, he probably thought she had it coming. Play it cool, that was the thing to do. The beach was full of beautiful women. When the entertainment value wore off, he’d probably go about his business. “I see you decided to take my advice, Mr. Carson, and have a vacation,” she said, trying for her dry, customer relations voice, resisting the urge to ask what the hell he was still doing there.
As though he’d read her mind, he gave a slight smile. “Glynnis sweet-talked the tour company into giving me an extra week since it was only one person. You know, extenuating circumstances and all. I figured lying on the beach for a while and enjoying the—” he paused and looked her over “—scenery would be good for me.”
“And has it been?”
His grin widened. “Ask me in a little while.”
“SO YOU CAME DOWN ALONE?”
Dev nodded. “That’s why I was so pleased to