Sex on the Beach (Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin)
Read Sex on the Beach (Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin) Online
Authors: Delphine Dryden
Hawaiian Vacation To-Do List:
- Bikini up! You’re in Oahu, and it’s time
for fruit drinks with umbrellas in them! - Being obsessively organized doesn’t work
during a Hawaiian vacation. Relax. Seriously. - Scan the resort for hot dudes. Huh. That
hot jogger who ran by looks a lot like your ex, Jeremy—only fitter, harder
and sexier. - Moonlit walks mean bumping into Hot Jogger
Guy. Who
is
your ex. - Don’t panic. Instead, think with your
libido! Also debate the merits of ex sex. - Ignore the consequences. Go for it.
- Revel in the afterglow. Go for rounds two
and three. - Ooh, kayaking!
- Round four.
Oops! - Definitely do
not
think about why you broke up in the first place. Or that
you’re having wicked-hot nookie with the man you were here to
forget
...
Acknowledgments
I couldn’t have written
Sex on the Beach
(or its companion book,
Mai Tai for Two
), without the insight and assistance of my big sister. She has lived on Oahu (in fact she was born on Oahu) and kept me from making many a critical error regarding bird-watching details and foliage. Thanks, Dana! The drinks part I managed all on my own.
Thanks also go to my extraordinary editor, Deb Nemeth, who has the patience of a saint and
always
has something nice to say...even when she probably wants to be holding up whatever manuscript I just sent and asking me, “Seriously, what the heck?” Deb, you turned this from a pile of tropical-themed sludge into an actual book, and for that you have my undying gratitude!
Dear Reader,
Some vacations, we just can’t afford. That’s what daydreams are for! But what would you do if your best friend won a dream vacation for two and invited you along?
If you were Amanda, you’d have trouble prying yourself away from work. Like a lot of
Cosmo
girls, she has to work her fun in around a demanding career. She’s thrown herself into it even harder since she and her fiancé, Jeremy, broke up a year ago, and she really doesn’t have time to spare. Still, who could resist four free days at one of the swankiest resorts on Oahu?
The one thing Amanda really wants to get away from is all the reminders of her ex...but instead of finding a hot vacation fling, she finds Jeremy on the beach, and he’s determined to win her back. They broke up over whether to move from San Jose to Seattle, but now he’s willing to relocate his company if he has to. Amanda knows Jeremy is capable of making grand gestures, but she’s starting to realize it’s the little things that make a relationship strong, and Jeremy can’t seem to grasp that their real problem had nothing to do with which town they settled in.
Hot vacation flings? Probably a bad idea. Sex with the ex? Definitely a bad idea. Combining the two? Potentially disastrous, but they’re going to do it anyway. And where they’ll end up is anybody’s guess!
Enjoy their exploration while lounging on a sunny beach, sipping a frosty beverage from a coconut cup with an umbrella in it (or in the tub with a soda—that works, too!).
I love to hear from readers. You can find me online at
www.delphinedryden.com
, or on Twitter,
@deldryden
.
Aloha!
Delphine Dryden
DELPHINE DRYDEN
Sex on the Beach
Sexy, contemporary romance stories
for today’s fun, fearless female.
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin
www.Harlequin.com/Cosmo
Chapter One
They are totally eye-fucking.
They’re eye-fucking
,
and they don’t even
realize
it.
The limousine ride from the Honolulu International Airport to the north shore of Oahu should have been a pleasant trip. Plush leather, fresh flower leis, well-stocked minibar and hands-down the best scenery of all time. But Amanda had been fighting a headache since shortly after their plane took off after the stop at LAX. She’d lost the fight somewhere over the Pacific, and now instead of enjoying the lush tropical foliage and looking forward to the resort, she needed all her energy just to keep from barfing. Their current scenic route seemed to involve some drastic elevation changes as they traversed the island, which definitely wasn’t helping.
And then there was the eye-fucking. Not a problem in theory, and she was certainly used to seeing her friends Julie and Alan make oblivious unrequited googly eyes at each other. But this time it mattered, because she’d made her own plans for Alan during this Hawaiian dream vacation. Plans that didn’t involve Julie, since Julie continued to insist she had no romantic interest in the guy. After three years, Amanda had decided to take her best friend’s word for it, ocular sex notwithstanding. Alan might not know it yet, but if he’d hoped for a vacation hookup he was already in luck.
“Oh my God! Look at that bird!” Julie was kneeling on the limo’s side seat, all but hanging her head out the window. “Did you see it?”
“Sorry, missed it.” Short responses were key to the nonbarfing program.
“It was a tiny bright yellow ball of feathers. Greenish-yellow. I think it was a hummingbird. I’ve never seen one perched before. It almost looked like a little hibiscus bud!”
Alan was already skimming through a bird-watching app on his phone, and a second later he held up a picture. “This one?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Oh, it was a honeycreeper, those are really rare. Cool!”
“We should start a list.”
They were both extremely excited about the bird, about the greenery, about the prospect of seeing the swanky beachside cottages where they’d be staying. Amanda wanted to share that excitement. She would share it. Just as soon as her ears popped, her sinuses drained, and the tension in her neck and shoulders relaxed to a mere firm grasp instead of the current death grip. Once all that happened, the whole trip would become like a miraculous dream. A dream in which her pasty blonde self had to wear a lot of sunscreen to avoid an epic burn, but a good one nevertheless.
Even with the headache, she couldn’t help marveling at her good fortune in being there at all. When Julie had first invited her, she’d thought she was being pranked.
“Four all-expenses-paid days in Hawaii?
Seriously?
” The best door prize she’d ever won at a company event was a copy of one of the senior partners’ books about management. Maybe it was different for the high muckety-mucks or the big earners, but she was a corporate research librarian, support staff for the consultants. Vital as she might be, she wasn’t in the running for big employee-appreciation freebies.
“Seriously,” Julie insisted for about the third time. Even over the iffy cell-phone reception and the ambient noise of whatever bar she was calling from, she sounded as if she couldn’t stop grinning.
“How can your company even afford that?”
“The CEO knows somebody.”
Boy, did he ever. They’d given away two of these trips, and the other lucky winner was Alan. Who hadn’t brought a plus-one. Thus, Amanda’s plan to despoil him.
It had just been so long since she’d had sex with a person. Her trusty vibrator was great, but she’d grown way too dependent on it in the year since her breakup with Jeremy. Her ex-fiancé might have been a jerk when it came to the issue of where to locate his company, but he’d never been lacking in the sack. Amanda had been sorely deprived, on top of the emotional impact. This vacation was the perfect time to close the door on that Chapter of her life, take decisive steps to move into the future. Alan was safe because she knew there was no danger of falling in love with him. It could be just for fun, no strings attached, and then they’d all get on with their lives.
She’d tried to date Alan before; Julie had fixed them up years ago, a few months before Amanda met Jeremy. She’d given him three dates before pulling the plug, because it was obvious to her that Alan had a thing for Julie, just as Julie did for Alan. Even if it apparently wasn’t obvious to Alan or to Julie. No, no, they were
just good friends
and
colleagues
and Alan was Julie’s “work husband” and blah blah blah unresolved sexual tension blah.
So she knew an actual relationship with the man was not in the cards. She’d known it then, she knew it now. Especially after being with Jeremy, knowing he was perfect for her, while he was Alan’s opposite in so many ways. Intense, ambitious, strung just a little too tightly at times, Jeremy had sounded like most of the guys in Silicon Valley at first, planning a start-up, developing a piece of software that could revolutionize whatever his particular niche of the industry was. But then he’d showed her the software in beta, and she’d realized he was on to something. A year later, his company was up and running and already profitable. Jeremy was impressive, and she’d been impressionable.
The only thing Alan and Jeremy had in common, other than software development, was the nerdy-handsome Clark Kent vibe. Another default mode for the guys of her acquaintance. At least neither of them affected hipster glasses.
“We’re almost there.”
Thank God
.
It really was beautiful. And so green, especially compared to the already-yellowing hillsides of northern California. Every shade of green imaginable, from tender spring bud to deep evergreen, with bursts of vivid red, hot pink and sunset orange scattered throughout. Amanda hadn’t noted the particulars much, but the overall impression was amazing—a riot of growth and color.
She wasn’t good with riotous things in general. Everything in her life was where it was supposed to be, pretty much all the time. And she was sick of that. Sick of her new normal, the long weekly slog interrupted only by the occasional girls’ night out. Tired of caring more about her job than about her friends or her own life, because if she stopped doing her job for one second she might really think about her life and start crying again. Because of Jeremy, whom she shouldn’t miss, because he was a jerk, but did miss. Still. Every day. All the damn time.
It was time to be over him. A year was much longer than long enough. Amanda couldn’t wait anymore to
feel
over him, she needed to
do
something about it. A symbolic gesture, a break between her old life and the new. And a golden opportunity to take that first step into a new future had just been plunked into her lap, courtesy of her best friend.
Step one:
Get rid of this headache.
Step two:
Do some very unwise things.
Step three:
Profit?
Probably not.
But hopefully after step two
,
I’ll be too satisfied to care.
* * *
Jeremy still wasn’t sure why he’d called Amanda’s mother that fateful day a month ago. The mood struck him every few months, to keep in touch, to maintain even that peripheral connection. Although he got along fine with his own parents, he’d come to think of Sandy Perry as almost a second mom while he was with Amanda. Losing one should have meant losing the other, but he refused to accept that. So he called or emailed from time to time, and so did Sandy, and neither of them ever admitted that their agenda was less than honorable. He was not keeping tabs on Amanda, and her mother was not reporting behind her daughter’s back to the guy she still rooted for. Not at all. It was just keeping in touch. If a little information about Amanda slipped in on the side, well, that was only to be expected. They both knew her, after all. It only made sense she would come up in the conversation.
This time his call had crossed paths with an email from Sandy, and their talk had been more honest than usual. Amanda’s mother had never come right out and
said
, “Go to Hawaii and woo my daughter back with a surprise offensive.” But when he pulled up her email midway through the conversation, he saw that she’d included the specific dates of Amanda’s windfall vacation, and the name of the resort where she’d be staying. All couched in innocent language, of course. Wasn’t it amazing that Julie had won this trip and decided to share it with Amanda, and wasn’t it such a romantic spot?
“Sir, we can do the orchids and heliconias, but did you want to include some anthurium, as well? It’s one of our most popular choices. It really gives the arrangement that signature tropical look.”
The woman at the resort’s florist shop held up a picture-perfect example of the most sexual flower Jeremy had ever seen. A labial lily-shaped body in glossy deep red, with a creamy rounded spike poking out from its center. “Uh...”
She’d clearly been through this before. “I know. But you really should have at least a few. Maybe three? We also have them in a coral pink right now.”
Because they needed to look
more
like vaginas?
“I think the red will be fine. Sure, three.”
“Fantastic. It’ll be ready for you by nine in the morning. You said you wanted to pick the bouquet up, not have it delivered, right?”
Yes to picking the bouquet up. Yes to the exorbitant price. Yes to seeing Amanda again, even if she tossed the bouquet and kneed him in the balls before slamming the door in his face.
Dammit.
Note to self:
do not think about Amanda in conjunction with balls
.
Fortunately the florist’s was only a stop on his afternoon jog. He’d already spent the morning in the gym, because being on vacation was no reason to change his habits of the past year. Every time he remembered Amanda and started to get hard, he worked out to take his mind off it. At least during the day. He still jacked off in the evenings, because he wasn’t a masochist and he thought about Amanda
a
lot.
It was a silver lining, Jeremy thought as he picked up his pace, heading out of the main hotel complex toward his beachside-cottage room. True, he had somehow lost the only woman he’d ever loved, and despite his business successes, the past year had been pretty hellish emotionally. He was spending a small fortune on what was almost certainly a futile bid to win her back, and he had no solution to the problem that had split them up in the first place—her job remained in San Jose, his company was putting down roots in Seattle since he’d moved it there nine months earlier, neither of them wanted to live in the other’s town, and none of that was likely to change.
But he was definitely in the best shape of his life.
* * *
The moment Amanda walked out of the resort’s incredibly well-appointed lobby, her headache started to ebb. One massive ear-pop, the sliding sensation of something loosening in her sinuses, and the keen ache faded to a barely perceptible throb. The attendant nausea waned to a minor background annoyance. The worst was over.
She knew it was coincidence, but it was almost as though exposure to such concentrated beauty vanquished the pain. The walk from the resort hotel’s swanky lobby was like entering Shangri-La, or stepping into Willy Wonka’s giant chocolate room. Amanda couldn’t help appreciating the tropical splendors and classy amenities despite the pain lingering behind her eyes and lurking at the base of her skull.
The semidetached cabin suite had a private lanai with a nearly clear view across a lawn and the beach down to the water, with only a few strategic hedges and coconut palms to add privacy and frame the image. Life inside a “Wish you were here” postcard would look like this, all pale golden sand and turquoise water in surfer-perfect waves, tanned bodies frolicking along the wide, deep strip of beach that curved along the sheltered bay. The view in the other direction was nearly as amazing; the room was gorgeous, a sleekly high-end display of modern design. Highly polished wood, fresh tropical flowers and a general air of expensiveness permeated the place. Amanda immediately wanted to stay there forever.
When she and Julie celebrated their room’s awesomeness, jumping up and down and squealing, Amanda began to feel like she was finally on vacation. Sadly, she also knew she’d have some work to do. The combination of stress, the headache and her usual ineptitude with small talk had resulted in a certain amount of bitchiness on the plane and in the limo on the way over. If she wanted to woo Alan, she was off to a terrible start.
But they had time. Not a lot, but enough. Amanda’s determination to take affirmative getting-over-Jeremy steps returned when she realized she was still seeing him in passing strangers. Like the hottie who jogged past their cottage’s lanai when they sat outside to enjoy the view.
Amanda enjoyed the view very much indeed, even if the guy made her think of Jeremy. Not
just
Jeremy, though. He looked like a damn movie star from the back, but she couldn’t think which one. Shirtless, in only a pair of navy-and-white board shorts and running shoes, he looked a little pale for the tropical setting, but other than that, too perfect for real life. Broad shoulders, lean muscles shifting across his back as he ran. His short sandy hair was damp, possibly from sweat, and she was struck with a craving to know what it felt like. Soft or stiff, prickly or like thick wet velvet? Had he been swimming, was he wet all over?
God.
He might not be all that wet, but now she sort of was.
She and Julie both stared in silent admiration as the guy crossed the patch of lawn and disappeared between the hibiscus-laden bushes that separated their cottage row from the next. When his toned back and delectable thighs were finally out of sight, the girls released a sigh in tandem.
“Whoa. Is it just me, or did he look familiar?”
Julie nodded. “Not just you. I didn’t see his face, but he still looked like James Bond. One of the awesome Bonds, too. He totally looked capable of kicking someone’s ass while making a tux look good. I wonder how long he’s staying. I didn’t see a wedding ring....”
