Hit the Spot Page 19


“All right. Relax.”

I stepped in front of her and bent down, getting close. Waves crashed on my back.

“Feelin’ the need to say a little prayer for this. Might suck for you, but honest to God, this might be the best day of my life,” I joked, wanting to lighten up the mood a little for her since she was still looking shaken up from the wave.

Her lip was trembling. I watched drops of water run down her cheek and felt my brow tighten.

Was she crying? Shit.

She was seriously worked up.

“Come on,” I said, holding my arms out. “Climb on up.”

She blinked. “W-what?”

“Gonna carry you in. Just wrap around me and stay pressing close. Nobody’ll see shit. Come on.”

She looked at me, at my arms being offered out, going back and forth between the two and then blinking up at my face.

I dropped to a knee and moved closer. “Swear it. I won’t let anybody see anything. Okay?” I promised, looking into her eyes and reading her hesitation. “Just climb on, babe. I got you.”

“What about your board?”

“Fuck my board. I’ll get it later.”

Tori wavered, still watching me. Studying me. Wanting to read my honesty and feel it for herself. Then, keeping her elbows tucked close, she slowly reached out before fully committing to the decision, and once that was done a second later, she went for it, launching herself out of the water and climbing onto me, arms circling my neck and legs locking tight around my waist.

Her heart was pounding and her limbs were shivering.

Standing, I held on to her, gripping the bottoms of her thighs and hitching her higher before I started walking us in.

“Can’t say I’m hatin’ this,” I shared, turning my head so my mouth was against her ear.

“Are people looking?” she asked.

I leaned away and saw her eyes were pinched shut.

“Yeah, they’re lookin’,” I told her, smiling and watching ahead. “They can’t see shit, but they’re lookin’.”

She gripped me harder. Her tight nipples brushed against my chest.

“Jesus,” I murmured.

“What?”

“You feel so fuckin’ good like this.”

I felt her head move against the side of mine. “I hate you,” she whispered.

I smiled again, reaching her towel and the bag she’d dropped next to it. “You got somethin’ in there to cover up with?” I asked.

Still trembling in my arms, Tori shook her head.

“Jesus, babe. You need to relax,” I told her, not understanding the way her body was still tensing up. I headed toward my setup. “Got you out without no one seein’ anything and I’m gonna continue makin’ sure no one sees anything. You can wear my shirt. Problem solved. And straight up, plenty of people get knocked down by waves. Even me. So just let that shit roll right off you. It ain’t a big deal.”

“You don’t know anything,” she said.

“No?” I asked gruffly. “How ’bout you enlighten me then. What don’t I know?”

I slid one arm up her back, keeping the other under her ass for support, then I bent over and snatched up my shirt I’d discarded, returning that hand back under her ass as I straightened up and kept us moving until I reached a sand dune that could provide the cover she was wanting right now.

It had tall brush overgrowing on the top of it and down the sides, stood above my head, and butted up against a fence that also had high, unkempt brush growing all around it, meaning no one could stand behind that fence and get an eyeful of Tori while she was changing.

“Well?” I urged when I got us back there.

She sighed. “Forget it.”

“Don’t do that. I fuckin’ hate that shit,” I bit out, then I started pulling her away from me. “Go ahead. Hop down.”

She stiffened in my arms.

I stopped pulling, laughed when she scrambled close again, and explained, “Got you back here where no one can see you. You’re good.”

Tori slowly leaned away enough to look at our surroundings but not enough so I could see anything when I glanced down the front of her, then she met my eyes, catching me trying to get a glimpse, and warned, “You don’t get to look.”

I cocked a brow. “Felt ’em. Considerin’ you gave me that, I’ll give you this.”

“How sweet.”

“You want sweet?”

“I want to get dressed.”

She wiggled, trying to slide down.

I locked my arms into a tighter hold, got a glare from her, and smiled. “Sorta missed that,” I said, talking about her sass. I put her on her feet and handed over my shirt when she reached for it with one hand.

She kept her other arm pressed against her tits. Then after taking the shirt, she wiped at her face, sniffed, and quickly turned away to get covered up.

I shook my head, smiling. “Jesus, Legs. I always thought you had ice in your veins,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Alls it takes is a little wave to knock you over and you get all soft on me. What’s up with that?”

“I can’t swim.”

My mouth tightened. Then my gaze narrowed in on the back of her head as blond popped through the hole in my shirt.

The fuck did she just say?

“You wanna repeat that?” I asked.

She slid her arms through the sleeves, tugged the hem down her body, and turned her head. “I can’t swim. I’m not a good swimmer,” she said on a shrug. “That wave really scared me.”

I lowered my arms and stepped closer, jaw clenching so tight it started to ache. “Are you bein’ straight with me right now?” I growled. “You can’t fuckin’ swim? For real?”

She turned around, saw my expression, and sighed, letting her eyes fall to the sand between us.

“Look at me,” I ordered. Her eyes lifted, and when I had them, I stepped even closer, getting up in her face. “Asked you a question, and honest to God, Legs, know we joke around and everything, but right now, I am not fuckin’ jokin’ around. Tell me you know how to swim.”

“I know how to swim,” she quickly answered.

I released a breath. Then I inhaled another one sharply when she went on to add, “Sort of.”

Motherfucker.

“Sort of? What the fuck is sort of? What’s that mean?”

“Like, I know the basics. I’m just not a strong swimmer,” she explained, still speaking fast. “I haven’t really ever been out in the ocean before. That was my first time.”

I pinched my eyes shut. “Jesus,” I mumbled.

“And I typically stay in the shallow end of the pool.”

I shook my head.

“Also, I sort of nearly drowned when I was four.”

My eyes slowly creaked open, staying narrowed. “Say again?”

“I nearly drowned when I was four.”

I stared at her, nostrils flaring, jaw tightening, and gaze so intense she slowly leaned away to get some distance from it.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Sorry?

I bridged the distance she’d just put between us and crowded her against the fence, keeping my arms on either side of her. She had nowhere to go.

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