Shrugging, she finished drying her hands and hung the leopard-print hand towel back on the gold towel rack. This whole self-transformation thing was turning out to be really confusing.
Zac met her in the hallway with his flashlight, the creepy bedroom dark again behind him. “Ready?”
“We’re doing it right here?”
He chuckled. She loved that low, deep laugh of his. Though when it was at her expense she still wanted to smack him. “How about we take a look at the beach? My friend said something about shelters out there. We can at least check them out.”
“I would love that.”
Outside the air was chilly and she was glad for her sweatshirt and even gladder for Zac’s warm body next to her and his arm across her shoulders, though the house sat in a protected cove, which kept the breeze and waves gentle. Overhead the sky was crammed with stars, blotted out in large patches where clouds floated overhead. Chris could also see what looked like a couple of small cabins—this time the word was appropriate—between the house and the water. As she and Zac neared, the structures came into better focus and turned out to be...
Oh. My. God.
She turned to Zac at the same time he turned to her. She didn’t need the flashlight to know they were both grinning. The cabins weren’t cabins at all, but curtained beachside cabanas, wooden posts at four corners, fabric tented over the top, pulled back to reveal the sky to the occupants.
And they had beds. Big ones. Full or queen.
Chris walked around the perimeter to the ocean side, feet sinking into the soft sand, breathing in the salty sea air. “I think I might have to be appallingly rich someday myself.”
“Yeah?” He’d crawled onto the bed and was lighting a propane lamp hanging from the ceiling.
“I mean, I think I deserve a mansion with a private cove, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” He offered her a hand to climb up on the bed.
“I suppose.” She turned to sit on the edge of the mattress, then let herself fall back. A breeze blew across her, undulating the curtains. The lamp above them turned out to be a heater, which kept the chill from being unpleasant. “Zac, this is incredible.”
“Better than the circle-of-hell bedroom back there?” He lay down next to her.
“Much.” Inhaling deeply, Chris stretched her arms up toward the sky. “Look at the stars.”
“Look at the beautiful woman in bed with me,” he whispered.
She turned, smiling, to find him gazing at her in a gravely awestruck way that made her smile fade, and a solemn, sweet feeling take its place.
Zac moved first; their lips met, clung, met again. Their bodies drew toward each other, arms encircling, legs tangling. Zac didn’t seem in the hurry she’d come to expect from men, tasting every part of her lips—one at a time, both together, then the corners of her mouth.
The effect was a remarkable mixture, drugging her nearly into a trance, while at the same time sparking a low burn of arousal that grew until she was the one ready to take things further.
She rolled Zac onto his back and unbuttoned his shirt, taking her time, kissing the skin that was revealed inch by inch. His chest was smooth and well-muscled, warm and inviting. She lingered over one nipple, bathing it with her tongue, pleased by his soft groan of pleasure.
He half raised his body to help her take off his shirt, then she pushed him back down, feeling strong and free and oddly without self-doubt, as if she’d made love to him before and knew what he liked and how he liked it.
The fly on his jeans she undid next—more buttons where she expected a zipper, but they gave one after another without her having to fumble. Underneath, a bulge covered by smooth gray cotton. Chris pressed her face to the soft material, inhaling his scent, moving her lips across the hard length of his penis, loving the way he held still for her, his hand lightly threaded into her hair, not pushing, not guiding her, but letting her explore at her own pace.
Slowly, she worked his jeans down over his strong thick thighs, over his long shins and beach-toughened feet.
“Wait...in the pocket,” he whispered. “Condoms.”
Chris grinned. She had a bunch stuffed into her pockets, too. At least they’d be well supplied.