The Bikini Diaries (8 page)

after all, the beach was long, and her reserved umbrella sat several building lengths away from where they'd "played" last night.

And as she spread out her towel on the beach chair and sat down, she began to feel like

an idiot to have had him practically begging to see her again and not being more precise about it. At the time, she'd
liked
being coy, as he'd put it. She'd never been coy in her life, and she'd been toying with the power of it. Plus she'd been stuck on her plan of "one night" and about it being solely sexual and, therefore,
not
about seeing each other again.

She could only chalk up her actions to orgasmic euphoria.

But now that all seemed stupid. She'd had the best freaking sex of her life—crazy,

riotous, no-inhibitions sex like she'd never even dreamed of—so why
shouldn't
she want it again? Just like she'd written after getting back to her room last night, she couldn't go back in the box.

Maybe a part of her had been a little let down in a weird way to find out that, really and truly, she
could
have meaningless sex.

But now that she knew how good it could be—just the pleasure, just the fun—she craved

more of it.
Please let him look for me.

As she watched the tide rushing in, kids playing in the surf, she began to relax a little.

Whatever happened here happened. If Brandon didn't find her, no biggie. Hell, maybe his

own orgasmic euphoria had worn off by now and he wouldn't even look. And if that was

the case... she'd live. She'd miss exploring her new sexual freedom with him some more,

but she'd still go away with a new sense of herself, new sensual secrets, a new confidence no one could take away.

"Hi there. Can I get you a drink?"

Her eyes rose to a beach waiter in a flowered shirt—the same one from yesterday. Only

he was looking at her differently now. She felt his admiration; she felt how much of her body, her breasts, was on display. Her pussy tingled as she smiled boldly up at him. "I'd love a mango daiquiri."

He smiled back, raising his gaze from her chest to her face. "Coming right up."

Power. She suddenly had power with men. Amazing.

But, of course, she still found herself looking up and down the beach for her lover from last night. Until her drink arrived. Until she'd made a few practical notes in her journal about the resort, then stuffed it back in her bag. Until the daiquiri was half gone and there was still no sign of him.

Maybe he really wasn't going to show.

She ignored the silly lump of disappointment gathering in her stomach and pushed it

aside. She didn't need him. She didn't need anything.

Except maybe more sex. After last night, she was feeling more aroused than she had in...

years. Which was exciting even as it felt a little scary. Because where was she going to get sex without Brandon? How was she going to go back in the box?

Just then, a darkly tanned guy with messy black windblown hair came strolling easily up

the beach. He wore long swim trunks and a T-shirt; his longish hair was pulled mostly

back into a low ponytail, but some had escaped in the breeze. Muscles stretched his tee—

he was tall and broad and didn't smile.

Wendy's first thought was that he looked vaguely familiar, and she was just thankful that his appearance made it fairly impossible for him to be someone from the corporate office.

Her second was that he was
hot.
In an unconventional, messy, slightly scary way. He was, quite simply, the sort of man whose very stance and expression would have

intimidated her before yesterday—he looked so confident and comfortable that she was

sure he could get any sexy beach babe he desired; he looked like the kind of guy who

probably hung out with swimsuit models or starred in porn movies or something.

But when he glanced up at her, then stopped and did a double take, it
didn't
intimidate her. It only felt like the next strange, heady occurrence in her daring little experiment.

She met his eyes, saw that they were blue like Brandon's and pretty enough to soften his expression just a little, and she wasn't even tempted to look away as he veered from the shore to come nearer.

His small smile, coupled with the inquisitive tilt of his head, was sexy as hell. "You...

look familiar. Have we met?"

Her new boldness came almost naturally as she smiled back, instinctively thrusting her

chest out slightly. "I was just wondering the same thing. I've only been here a day, though, so ..."

He playfully scratched at his darkly stubbled chin. "Well, I don't know where I know you from, but I wouldn't mind knowing you better."

Maybe it was all a line—maybe he was just
pretending
to think she looked familiar. But if so, she didn't mind at all. "Likewise," she offered up flirtatiously, taking a sip of her drink and wondering if her nipples were visible through the thin black fabric.

"You parasail?" he asked.

She glanced past him to the big, colorful parachute-type thing currently floating across the sky out over the ocean, being pulled by a boat. "Um, I never have."

Seeing her look, he pointed to the boat. "I own that boat and two more. I run the parasail operation here on the beach." That explained the logo on his shirt, Sky Pirate, and she couldn't help thinking the whole pirate image suited him well. "You should come

parasail. I won't even charge you."

She raised her eyebrows. "Why not?"

He gave her a wink. "Consider it one of the perks of being hot. I'll have guys lined up a mile behind you, wanting a ride."

Hmm. The truth was, despite liking his flirtation—a lot— parasailing didn't sound like

such a great idea. It would probably make her nervous, and she didn't want to be nervous in front of this guy. But that very knowledge reminded her again—Be
bold. Be the new,
bold, aggressive you.
"I'll consider it," she said, "but'... where's the part about wanting to know me better?"

A sensual smile unfurled on her beach pirate's face. "Well, when you put it like that, screw parasailing. What do you have in mind, pretty lady?"

And that was when the question hit her hard:
Could I fuck another guy on this trip?

Could I be that brazen? Could I possibly have sex with more than one stranger in just a
couple of days?

Before she could answer, thought—him or herself—he tilted his head the other way, eyes

narrowing. "Wait. I think I know where I saw you. Hot, orange dress? Piano bar?"

Oh boy. She lowered her chin a bit flirtatiously, wondering exactly
what
he'd seen.

"Guilty as charged, officer."

He chuckled slightly, then pointed a finger at her, shaking it slightly as he kept deducing more. “You were hanging with my buddy Brandon last night."

Holy crap. She remembered him now, too. He'd been one of a group of guys near the

downstairs bar the very first time she'd spotted Brandon. His hair had been down then, so he'd looked different.

"You're a friend of Brandon's, huh?" Stunned, she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Since college," he replied, nodding, and she felt oddly as if she'd been caught at something—but the beach pirate didn't look remotely bothered by the coincidence.

"Trying to steal my beach bunny, Faber?"

Wendy flinched at the sound of Brandon's deep voice, then turned her head to see him

approaching from the other side of the umbrella. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of her handsome lover in only a pair of stylish navy blue trunks with a white design running down the outside of each leg. It was really him! He
had
found her! Their hedonism wasn't over!

She caught her breath and tried to appear cool, acting playfully affronted.
"Beach
bunny?"

Brandon looked her over from head to toe, making her breasts ache and the juncture of

her thighs feel heavy. "If the bikini fits, honey. And the bikini definitely fits."

Her whole body warmed, and she decided she didn't mind the moniker at all. In fact, it fit quite well with her little game here. "Honey? Shouldn't that be
bunny?"

Both guys laughed, and Wendy thoroughly enjoyed feeling like the center of their

attention. Who'd have imagined?
Her,
flirting with two hunky beach guys!

"So, I see you two have met," Brandon said.

"Well, not formally," Wendy pointed out. "We were just figuring out that we... uh, had you in common."

Brandon's slightly possessive smile moved all through her, reminding her anew of all the crazed heat they'd shared last night. "Let me do the honors," he said then. "Pete Faber, this is Wendy..."

Even when Brandon hesitated, she didn't offer up her last name. Just closed it off by

switching her glance to Pirate Pete to hold out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Pete."

He took it, but instead of shaking it, bent to kiss it, then said, "The pleasure's all mine," in a way that curled seductively through her, even as she saw Brandon rolling his eyes with a slight laugh.

After that, Pete informed Brandon that he'd invited Wendy parasailing, but Brandon just

grinned and said, "Maybe another day. She's got other plans right now."

Shifting in her chair, and enjoying the rush of sexual adrenaline, she raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, do I now?"

But her tone didn't quell him at all. He simply said, "Yes, bunny. You're spending the afternoon with
me."

Brandon couldn't resist wrapping around her from behind in the water, glad the surf was

calm today, letting him play with her in the ocean without having to worry about them

getting crushed by a wave. Damn, she felt good in his arms. And damn, she looked fine

in that bikini. He was still basking in the masculine arrogance of finding her on the

beach—just where he'd told her he'd look for her.

Beneath the clear water's surface, he splayed the fingers of both hands across her smooth stomach, letting one thumb flirt with the underside of her breast. He wondered if she

could feel him getting hard against her ass, just from touching her.

"Mmm," she sighed, leaning back against him as he rained a few soft, openmouthed kisses across her neck, shoulder.

"I'm glad you decided to come to the beach today," he rasped in her ear.

Still in his embrace, she turned toward him with a smile. "I guess you think that's because of you."

He shrugged easily. "I think it's because you want what I promised you last night."

"What if I do?" She still sounded as cool and aloof as she had walking back to her room after fucking him.

He leaned near her ear once more, tightened his grip around her waist to lift her slightly as a small wave rolled past, and whispered, "Then you won't be disappointed."

Glancing down over her shoulder, he couldn't help appreciating the view. Her nipples

were prettily hard, jutting against the black Lycra of her sexy top, which bared nearly as much of her breasts as it covered. "You have amazing tits," he growled in her ear, pleased to have found out last night that she liked talking dirty just as much as he did.

She answered by turning her head toward him once more and lifting one hand to his

cheek to pull him into a warm, lingering tongue kiss that made his cock even stiffer.

Without thought, he followed the instinct to let his palm glide downward over her

stomach until it snaked onto the fabric between her legs. She sucked in her breath at the touch, and he began to rub his fingers in little circles over her clit, his middle finger sinking into the valley of her slit even through her bikini bottom.

"Ohhh..." she purred, moving against his touch in front, his erection in back. "Oh... God."

"Does my hot little beach bunny like that?" he said low in her ear.

"Brandon," she began, sounding short of breath. "I... we... there are people around."

Ah. He
knew
she wasn't really a bad girl, deep down. A truly bad-to-the-core girl wouldn't give a damn. "But they're all far away."

She looked to the nearest swimmers—a teenage couple about thirty yards to their right

and, probably more troubling to her, a family complete with two kids slightly closer to

shore than the couple. "Far is a relative term."

He chuckled softly to himself, still stroking her sweet pussy under the water. "No one's watching, trust me."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "You've clearly done this before."

He couldn't help giving another light shrug. "Jealous, bunny?"

She blinked. "How could I be jealous? We just met. In fact, I'm glad."

Brandon raised his eyebrows. "Glad?"

"I like a guy who knows what he's doing." With that, she turned back around, facing away from him, as he continued to rub her.

"Well, you're in luck," he said. "Because I
definitely
know what I'm doing." Just then, another low wave rolled in, and he lifted her lightly to carry them both across it, watching as the water lapped at the soft curves of her breasts.

"It shows," she breathed, leaning back into him harder—and he knew for sure she could feel his cock now.

He didn't fight the urge to withdraw his fingers from her cunt just long enough to ease

them down inside the front of her suit, directly into the folds of her pussy. They both

expelled soft moans at the touch and she said, "Brandon, I can't," even as she moved against him, fucking his fingers.

"It
feels
like you can," he teased her, rubbing deeper, finding her rhythm, and making her moan again. He was getting hotter, too, feeling it in his gut and, of course, lower. He

rasped in her ear once more. "Ah, damn, bunny, I want to fuck you so bad. I want to pull down your sexy little bottoms and fuck you right here and now."

He loved the sound when she sucked in her breath, even harder this time, and began to