"You were right," Porter's voice behind me made me jump, "I like this one better."

I turned to face him and my eyes must've bugged out of my head because he bent in half laughing at me. When he came up for air, his eyes were watering and his face was red.

"Oh my G.o.d, Holly!" he said through gasps of breath, "I wish you could see your face right now!"

I knew my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. My eyes were glued to the tiny strip of cloth slung across his hips. If the thing were any smaller his b.a.l.l.s would've popped out of either side. There was nothing left to my imagination.

"How do you not have any tan lines?"

That's all you can come up with? Idiot.

The questions must've surprised him, too, because his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

"You've got Ryder Ruff in a Speedo standing in front of you and all you can think about is tan lines? You're gonna be a tougher nut to bust than I thought!"

I could feel the flush creeping into my face again as the thought of him busting any kind of nut overtook my imagination and went on a brief, but intense joy ride with my sensibilities.

I knew he had done it on purpose the moment he flashed me that mischievous grin I had come to both adore and loathe.

"You, sir, are an a.s.shole."

I turned back around and quickly scrawled my signature across the receipt on the counter. I shoved my toys into his arms and took the bag of clothes from his hand before stomping off to the dressing room to change.

I opened the bag to retrieve my beachwear and grumbled to myself when his clothes were balled up on top. I dumped the entire contents on the floor and picked up the bikini my stubborn a.s.s had picked.

"Boxer briefs," I noted with a grin as I removed the tags from my top, "I'm surprised he doesn't go commando for easy access."

I changed quickly and neatly folded my work outfit before placing it in the bag. As I bent to scoop up his clothes, an idea struck me that had a wicked grin spreading across my face.

I fished my phone out of the bag then dumped his socks, jeans, and tee shirt back into it before scooping up his underwear by the waistband. I used the front-facing camera to snap a selfie with the coveted undergarment and fired it off to Becks and Mitch with the caption, "Look what I've got..."

I returned my phone to the bottom of the bag and left the dressing room to rejoin Porter.

"Let's go dump this in the car and hit the sand!"

He had picked up two beach towels while I changed and nodded his agreement, "My sandcastle is gonna kick your sandcastle's a.s.s."

The jab spurred my compet.i.tive streak and I shot back, "Game on."

We deposited our clothes and phones in the trunk of my car and headed for the beach.

It was busy, but not crowded, so we didn't have any problems finding a spot out of the way of the volleyball games and sunbathers close to the water. He dumped our toys, towels, and sunblock unceremoniously and took off like a bullet for the water.

The spray of sand kicked up by his bare feet quickly gave way to a spray of water as he splashed through the surf. I couldn't help but laugh as he did the surfer run through the waves, lifting his knees as high as they'd go and kicking his legs out to the side.

He dived headfirst into an oncoming wave and disappeared beneath the surface. I shook my head as I tried to stifle my giggles and turned my attention to the pile at my feet. I'm not a water person, so joining his swim was absolutely out of the question. I shook off the towels and laid them out on top of the hot sand before crawling on top of the pink one and grabbing the sun block.

I had a tan to work on while my p.o.r.n star date frolicked in the ocean. If he returned with some kind of device for me to float on, I might consider joining him. Until then, it was time to get brown.

Once I was sufficiently slathered, I pressed the cheap sungla.s.ses onto my nose and laid back to enjoy the sun, the surf, and the fact that I wasn't stuck in my office.

I'm not sure how long it took, but I eventually drifted off to sleep.

I dreamt of Porter.

Ocean swimming had always been one of my favorite workouts. Fighting the currents just gives an extra boost to all those stabilizer muscles that you don't normally work out.

I had probably been in the water for a good twenty minutes by the time I finally dragged myself out of the surf and back onto solid ground. It took me a few moments to reorient myself and remember where I had dumped our stuff.

I'd been carried a few hundred yards south of the surf shop where I'd bought our swimsuits, so I used that as a marker and made my way north. I constantly scanned the bodies on the beach looking for Holly.

I was almost certain that she would've followed me into the water and tried to out-swim me. I had seen the glint of defiance in her eyes each time I posed even a subtle challenge. I'd been a little excited to get the first contest underway.

She was lying on a towel a few dozen yards off when I spotted her. It didn't take me long to realize that she had fallen asleep. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face as I thought of all the ways I could mess with her just to get her riled up.

I stood over her, considering my options, and quickly became hypnotized by the gentle rise and fall of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She was definitely a California girl. She had a flawless beach tan, a body that screamed for a bikini, and perfectly smooth legs that could only be attained by a girl who had experience in being beach-ready at all times.

I wanted to reach down and run my hands up them.

A quick shake of the head broke the spell her body had put on me. The droplets of water that fell from my hair onto her body were just enough to gently pull her out of her slumber.

"How long was I out?" she asked groggily.

"I'm not sure. I was out there for about twenty minutes, I think. I thought you'd follow me."

She sat up and stretched, pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against the thin cotton of her top, "I'm not big on the idea of being in water I can't see through. Put me in a boat and I'm fine, but I'm not about to swim out there and become shark bait."

My eyes rolled in their sockets. Jaws must have ruined her.

"Well, at least you didn't burn. That would've put a damper on things. Roll over and let me get your back."

A flash of hesitance crossed her face before she slowly rolled over onto her elbows.

I warmed the lotion up between my palms and gently rubbed it into her skin.

"The tide looks like it's heading out. Did you still want to hit the tide pools in Dana Point?"

"Sure," I agreed as I started on her legs, "I think we should hit dinner first though. There's a sushi place up the street that has the best sushi in the state. I can't remember the last time I didn't eat there while I was here."

"Mmmm," the sound sent a bolt of desire through me, "That sounds delicious, actually."

"It's a date then!" I expected her to argue my use of the word "date."

Instead, she patted the sand in front of her, "Your turn. Get your grape smuggling a.s.s over here."

I handed her the bottle of sunscreen and sat down on the sand in front of her. She quickly lubed up my back, leaving blazing trails of lightning along my skin wherever she touched, then commanded me to stand up so she could do my legs.

"Make it quick," I instructed as I rose, "it's hard to hide a b.o.n.e.r in this thing."

I heard her choke on a gasp and the sound of the lotion bottle hitting the sand. I looked down at her over my shoulder and gave her my million-dollar-smile, "I wasn't kidding."

She sprang into action, quickly and sloppily covering my legs from b.u.t.t cheek to ankle in the creamy protectant.

"Thanks!" I said as I carefully lay down next to her, "I'm glad there weren't any kids walking by for that!"

"You're such a pervert," she accused, "Do you ever talk about anything besides your p.e.n.i.s?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "Before now, I've never really met someone who wanted to talk about something else."

"You really need to find better friends then," she mumbled.

I just laughed at her and laid my head down on my arms, prompting her to do the same.

I couldn't tell if her eyes were open behind the lenses of her sungla.s.ses, but the corners of her pouty, paint-free lips were gently curved upward in a contented smile. I told myself that her eyes were open and it was seeing my face that had put that smile there.

A single lock of her reddish-brown hair fell over her forehead. I fought the urge to reach out and brush it back to join the rest that had been tossed over her shoulder.

The dreamy memory of fisting my hands in that hair slammed into me, causing my already-stiff c.o.c.k to throb against the hard sand beneath me. I squeezed my eyes shut and did my best to think of the least s.e.xy things I could come up with.

It was a trick I used at work to keep myself from getting off too early. I'd make to-do lists, or think about my mailman, or homeless people, and it helped to keep my mind off the task at hand.

It took a bit longer than usual this time, but I finally felt the pressure against my hips begin to lessen and breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?"

She was awake!

"What do you mean?" I asked casually.

"Your face is all screwed up like you have a cramp or something."

"Oh, yeah," I agreed, "a cramp. I should've stretched after my workout."

I hoped I sounded more convincing than I thought I did.

The look on her face told me that she didn't believe a word that I said.

"Let's. .h.i.t the boogie boards in the shallows," she challenged with a grin, "Last one on their board buys dinner!"

She jumped up and s.n.a.t.c.hed both of the foam boards, bolting for the water.

"No fair!" I called after her, "You're cheating!"

I pushed myself up from the towel and ran after her. Cold water was the next-best thing when it came to controlling a hard-on and I was all too happy to let it do its work.

She had dropped the larger of the two boards on the sand just before the water and by the time I made it out there, she was already bobbing up and down on the smaller waves with a childish grin splitting her face from ear-to-ear. It would've been adorable if the board she was leaning on hadn't pushed her t.i.ts up to her chin giving me an extraordinary view of her cleavage.

Cold water. Now.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the board and ran toward her as fast as I could before dropping to my knees beside her and facing the sh.o.r.e.

"That was cheap and you know it," I said with a playful b.u.mp of shoulder against shoulder.

"Call it a handicap," she laughed, "You have longer legs than I do. I needed a head start to make it a fair race."

"A head start I could work with! You stole my board!"

"It was an accident?" She turned her giant doe-eyes on me and tried to look innocent. It was working.

"You should be more careful next time. Someone might mistake your accident for sabotage."

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Thanks in advance for dinner!" She pushed off the sand with her legs right as a wave crashed down on top of my head, propelling me forward off my board and shoving me face-first into the sand beneath the water.

I fought to right myself and spat a mouthful of sand back onto the beach with a cough as the surf receded behind me. Holly was sitting on top of her board a few feet away doubled over with laughter.

"Are you laughing at me, Miss Nash?" I sputtered.

"Oh," she gasped, "you bet your a.s.s I'm laughing at you! That was the funniest d.a.m.n thing I've seen all week! That's saying a lot considering all the time I spend on YouTube! I wish I would've had my camera! I could make some serious money off that on TMZ!"

Tears were streaming down her face now and, as hard as I tried, I couldn't be mad at her for laughing at my misfortune. Her laughter was like music.

I recovered my board from the tumble of waves behind me and kicked sand at her as I pa.s.sed her, "Let's go eat. Near death experiences always make me hungry."

"Near death?" she asked as she jogged up next to me, "You were in two feet of water! You were closer to death swimming around out there with the sharks earlier!"

"I wasn't in any danger out there."

"The h.e.l.l you weren't!" She flopped down on top of her towel and smiled up at me.

"No really," I whispered confidentially, "Can you keep a secret?"

Her face grew serious, "Of course I can."

I crooked a finger at her, motioning for her to lean in closer. I glanced around suspiciously as she moved in and then whispered, "I'm Aquaman."

She burst into a fit of giggles once more and a smile nearly split my face in half. There wasn't a sound on Earth I would rather hear.

"You're such a jacka.s.s, Porter!"

She pulled the towel out from under her and began to dry off her hair with the less-sandy side.

"Do we have to change for dinner?" she asked, "Or is this one of those ocean-side catch-of-the-day taco cart-type of places?"

"We'll definitely need some clothes." I glanced down at my speedo, which prominently displayed my bulge.

"d.a.m.n," she cursed, "I was hoping I could keep being lazy."

I wrapped my towel around my waist and waited for her to finish drying her hair. If she didn't wipe the ocean spray off her t.i.ts soon, I'd need more than a towel to make myself acceptable for public presentation.