Whit and I were together for a year. Not together, really. Just had sex whenever there was the urge. It was good sex too, and there was a time when I missed what we’d had, but I’m over it. Whit’s so happy with Caleb that I can’t help but be happy for him. The two of them are different in many ways, yet they work so well together.
I turn over on my stomach, continue reading, and occasionally lower my shades so I can watch Sem ride the waves. Because how can I not? He’s hot. Objectively speaking. But he’s not my type. Not really. I mean, I do like big guys that can throw me around a room, but notthatbig. He’s too tall. Too muscular. Too much like the bullies at school who made my life hell. He’s too much like my brothers. He’s just too…much.
And yet you let him fuck you. Twice!
I squeeze my eyes shut, lower my forehead to my arms, and sigh. I’m such an idiot.
“What are you wearing?” a voice says above me, and I startle.
Craning my neck up, I see Sem standing over me, dripping wet, his retro-designed surfboard on the sand behind him. From here, I can see every wet muscle bulging from beneath his skin. It’s not anything I’m interested in. Not really.
“It’s a swimsuit.”
“That’s not a swimsuit,” Sem says, his eyes moving across my back, ass, and legs.
I bristle. “It is.”
“It’s…too short.”
I scoff and then grab my phone, pretending to read when I’m actually biting back a snarky retort. Of course, my swimsuit is short. It’s also bright yellow because the intention was to come here and show myself off so hot guys would look at me. Check out my ass. Admire how cute I am. But the only one who seems to be paying me any attention is Sem, who’s looming over me like a thunder cloud.
“You need to put sunscreen on.”
“I’m fine.”
He shifts in front of me. “You’re turning red.”
I sigh and then dig around in my bag for my sunscreen and then hold it up toward him.
“Fine, if you’re so worried about me...”
Sem crouches down, those powerful thighs right in my vision, and I refuse to look at them. They’re admirable, sure, but goddammit, I will not be lusting after this man. Instead, I rest my face on my forearms and close my eyes.
I hear the top of the cap pop open, and Sem’s large hands start moving across my shoulders and then across my back. Those rough, calloused hands.
“When did you learn to surf?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the feel of him touching me.
“Tried it last summer with Mal. It came easy,” he says, continuing to rub the skin of my back. It feels like he’s being incredibly thorough. I guess skin healthisimportant.
“You’re good at it.”
“You were watching me?” he asks, his hands pausing right above my lower back.
“Not really,” I mutter and then bite my lip as he squirts some more sunscreen in his paws and moves them down the back of my thighs. It’s not necessary, I can put sunscreen on my legs, but I let him do it anyway.
“You should try it,” he says.
“I’m not a great swimmer.”
“Would you drown if you go out there?” he asks, his fingers brushing up under my shorts. Dangerously close to my balls.
“Watch your hands,” I say sternly, and Sem’s hands move down my legs instead. “And no, I wouldn’t drown. I can swim, but if I end up out there, I’d probably just flail about and then have a panic attack because there is an excellent chance I’ll be mauled by a shark.”
“Nah, no shark sightings today.”
“How reassuring.”
“Come on. Come out with me. We can bodyboard back in. We don’t even need to stand up.”