His beautiful mouth formed a lopsided smile. Did he know what he did to her? “You think one lap is enough foreplay?” Finally he lifted a set of five and stroked the side of her face. “Not enough for me. I require a little build up before I blow the load.”
“From what I heard, you’ll get all that you wish from the gyrations.” With a flourish, she held out her arm. Sprinkles of water glittered in the early morning sunrays. “Shall we?”
He laughed and eased onto the surface. “Ladies first, and I guarantee my woman will always be the first to come.”
Flapping her feet to keep upright, she flipped onto her back. She hoped what Jenn’s friend Stubbing had told her about the Wave Pool was accurate. Hormones had her frazzled. Her vagina was already tightening in eager anticipation.
John’s strong strokes, in the American crawl, took him a few meters away. The guy was a competitor. She backstroked and could tell from the markers on the side walls they were near the end. Not one wave pounded them. Damn, she hated to be wrong.
As she flung her right arm out, the water moved. A slow rise at first, and then a great force like being on a paddle-boat in the center of a hurricane. John held strong, but at the second wave he landed on top of her. Grabbing the edge of the pool, he held them together and locked in place as another current hit them broadside. She went under and panic set in, her heart pounded in her ears and her breath caught. Frantic, she blew out air and anxiously clutched for the surface. John’s hand went around her wrist and dragged her until she was wedged between him and the pool’s handrail. All of her body parts touched his. He kept them connected until the liquid leveled. Security surrounded her, providing her with a sense of safety for the first time in several weeks.
Mary wiped the chlorine-scented water from her face and tried to catch her breath. John wasn’t breathing heavy at all. They were so snug; her nipples had to be piercing his chest.
“Your heart’s racing,” he whispered into her ear.
A whistle spouted sharp tones.
“That was a rush, wasn’t it? Guess it got me aroused.” Aggressiveness wasn’t part of her nature, but he created a fire in her. A strange fear that only he could satisfy the tingling building in her lower region made her want to move, to flee.
Until he nuzzled her neck, then her thoughts scattered and her clit clutched with need. “What?”
The man wasn’t anywhere near her donor choice, but he sparked her to life. She hadn’t felt this exhilarated since…ever. He was kind, funny, sexy, and most of all, if his necking was a prelude, John would be a world class kisser. She had to stop him. Candidate number one would be returning any minute. She bowed her head, focused on what lay beneath the water. “Heart’s beating fast because I’m hormonal and you know what effect cold has on a woman.”
John jumped back fast, creating a whirlpool. “Maybe we should return and get warm.”
His tone was as chilled as the water. He flipped like a sea lion and snapped his arms in the stream as if racing time. Mary took a deep breath and used the strength of her legs to catch him. A second wave rolled her over him and she bottomed. The strong surge sent him several meters in front of her.
He stopped and looked at her as if he was trying to calculate the odds. She must have stirred his interest, because he flung out his fingers to reach for her.
She clung to her human life preserver, and he tugged her to his side. Together they drifted to the end. Mojo or not, the man had chivalry way down deep in his bones and she fell a little more in like with him.
His palm fit nicely on her rear as he hoisted her onto the edge of the pool. Breathing heavily, she shivered. Not enough sun to warm the skin. A white towel appeared before her. She looked up.
Matthew grinned at her and presented her with the ray of sunshine she needed, then held out a hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Thanks. That’s very cold water in the morning.” She held on tight.
“Here, John, take my towel.” She dropped the thick cloth onto his lap and pivoted to sway with the motion of the ship to her lounge chair. After a purposely graceful sit, she lifted her finely turned legs onto the bench. To reduce stress, for the last two months, she’d been jogging, which had brought them into excellent form and deserving attention. She stretched and placed her arms behind her head. “I’m a naturalist. The sun will dry my skin.”
John plopped onto the bench, shaking the metal feet in the process and coughed as if he were an orator preparing to lecture.
Matthew knelt beside her, stroked the edge of her hand. “I have to log some hours, but I’ll see you around one. We’ll take the jog around the perimeter?”
“Looking forward to it.” She licked her lips, getting the chlorinated water from the surface, and then reached for her phone, needing to get a photo.
His focus remained on her mouth, the peaks, if she were to guess. The cupid’s bow always drew interest. “Umm, me too.”
“First Mate Taylor, you’re to report to the bridge.” A man’s deep voice resonated among the pipes decorating the top deck, where speakers had been cleverly camouflaged. The pool was nice, but it was surrounded by huge white cylinders, hiding people and spouting loud noises much of the time.
The announcement provided her an opportunity to get a shot of Matthew as he stood.
“I’ll see you later.” He winked and touched her skin again, above the knee, not quite on the inner thigh. Donor number one took off at a brisk pace.
John hadn’t said two words since the wave pool. She bent to put the phone in her bag, while trying to come up with a conversation starter. Upright again, he frowned, which made her reconsider. Maybe the comment had made him angry. Had he misunderstood her and thought she referred to the deflating effect chilled water had on men? Heat rushed to her face. Fact was, men’s penises did shrink in the cold and women’s nipples peaked, but she wasn’t bold enough to discuss the male anatomy.
“I saw you dancing last night. You’re very rhythmatic,” a guy said, his voice lifting at the end as if air was difficult to obtain.
Mary drew her attention from John and glanced at the speaker. Body builder, sun worshiper, thick neck, squinted blue eyes and one of his eye teeth crossed over the tooth in front of it. What a list. Was rhythmatic a word?
“Thanks. I’m Mary.” She smiled, but didn’t hold out her hand.
“Billy Martinson, 2009 winner of Verona Beach Body Building Contest.” He held his right arm in a typical muscle-man pose, exhibiting all the bulges in his upper bicep. Granted, he looked mighty fine, but she wanted brains, not a tight body. Of course, both would be a plus.
“That’s nice, Billy. Is that your occupation, body building?” She itched to get her notebook out. All research should contain both positive and negative values.
“Naw. I work at a tool and die in Verona. Ten years now.”
Yep, his hands had telltale burns or cuts from the machinery. Maybe he was paying his way through school.
“Interesting. I’m a Certified Bench Master Jewelry Designer, studied at the Charleston Jewelry Design Institute in South Carolina.” The gold latch on the side of her bathing suit bit into her side. She should snap it and get her back-up guy’s attention.
Billy, already on the edge of the lounge next to her, scooted the chair closer. He rubbed a finger across her hand and trailed the digits along her arm. “My studies are taken from life. I don’t need to get more book learnin’.”
Bile rose to her throat at his touch. Reaching for the suntan lotion in her bag, she met John’s gaze. He smiled a wicked little knowing grin. If only she could stick out her tongue in a childish way.