Page 51 of Tame Me

“You would?”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“I’d like that. Kickoff is at ten o’clock.”

He was so easy to talk to, and it was another twenty or so minutes before we said goodbye. I was glowing both inside and out by the time I hung up. I finished my treat, paid for my order, and strolled back to my hotel, determined not to ruin these wonderful feelings by engaging with Needledick again.

Fortunately, he was busy with a family with three young kids, and I made it to the elevator unscathed. I was exhausted by the time I rolled into bed. Visions of my sexy chocolatier filled my mind. I pictured him running up the beach in tiny swim trunks and glistening with sweat. His wet blond curls dancing about his face as if having a party. And his smile . . . hmmm.

It was a wonderful way to drift off to sleep.

The rest of the week was a game of cat and mouse as I made every attempt not to run into Needledick again. With each passing day it became more and more awkward, and I was soon entertaining the notion that come next year, I’d have to look for a new job.

The worst part about leaving was that I’d need to find a new apartment too. But I didn’t want to leave. I loved where I lived. My thoughts spun on a never-ending roundabout of reasons to stay and go.

By the time Saturday morning came around, I was looking forward to the distraction Hunter promised to give me. After my shift, I escaped Needledick’s death stares as quickly as possible and raced to my room.

An hour later, I dressed in a Memphis disguise that was suitable for a morning on the beach and headed downstairs, ready for Lolly to pick me up at quarter to nine. I dodged the Needledick bullet as he was busy with guests and stepped out into the blazing sunshine.

She drove into the Hot Horizon Hotel pick-up area with a squeal of tires and a just as loud squeal from her when I opened the passenger side door.

“Holy shit, babe, you look fucking hot. That blonde wig suits you.”

“Thanks.” I climbed in, shoved my bag to my feet, put my hat on my lap, and buckled up.

“This’s going to be so much fun.” She put the car into gear, and I was thrown back into my seat as she planted her foot on the accelerator.

“I hope we don’t miss the start.”

“We won’t.” Lolly accelerated through a yellow light, and I gripped the seat as the car bounced over the raised intersection.

Hunter’s race didn’t start until ten o’clock, however we needed time to park, and on the Gold Coast, that was always an issue. Then we had to find him, and from what I’d seen during my Google search of open-water swimming races, there were likely to be thousands of people there.

We raced through the morning traffic with Lolita constantly changing lanes to dodge the slow cars, and found a parking spot with forty minutes to spare. I pulled on my big floppy hat and sunglasses and stepped from the car. We grabbed our bags and dodged numerous cars to cross the road toward the beach.

As I’d suspected, there were thousands of people here. Marquees were lined up along the beach offering all sorts of treats and paraphernalia, and a fun festival atmosphere emanated from the crowd and the billowing flags.

The weather was perfect. . . blazing sunshine, late spring temperatures in the mid-twenties, and a light breeze drifting off the ocean. Together, Lolly and I pranced across the hot sand toward a large temporary gateway that we assumed was the start and finish line.

“Do you see him?” Lolita looked stunning. Her perky boobs filled out an intense sky-blue bikini with white string straps. She covered it with a tiny white sarong wrapped around her hips and wore white Havaianas with a couple of diamanté studs on her feet.

Lolita was a beach babe pin-up girl, and the heads that turned her way confirmed it. She had her hair up in a high ponytail, and it swished from side to side as she took in all the action around her.

“No, not yet.” As I glanced from one hot body to the next, I wondered if I’d even be able to see him. The contestants stood out because they all wore bright yellow bathing caps with numbers on them that matched the numbers painted on their arms and legs, but this only made finding Hunter more difficult.

Each competitor was practically a clone of the next, with toned, fit bodies and matching headwear.

We arrived near the starting line and looked for a place to sit. At Lolita’s insistence, I left her to set up and went in search of Hunter. There were thousands of people, and as the minutes ticked by, I feared I’d missed the opportunity to wish him luck before his race.

I hovered around the starting banner, flitting my glances from one fitness fanatic to the next, and finally, I saw him. His body was similar to every other male athlete’s—toned, tanned, and terrific. But it was his smile that set him apart. Hunter had an award-winning smile that captured me in so many ways.

I waved as I walked toward him. His already stunning smile became spectacular, and when he waved back, delightful butterflies danced across my stomach.

“You came.” He picked me up and I clutched my bag to my side and giggled as he twirled me around.

“Of course I did.”

He lowered me to my feet, and as he leaned toward me, I smelled suntan lotion and salt water. Our lips met for a brief kiss. It was too brief, and I already wanted more.

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