Page 10 of Surfer Girl

Especiallywhere Sophie couldn’t see.

“I know this much, Sophie,” she murmured, watching her finger trace the fresh scratch as Jessie struggled to break new ground and pave the way for what might prove to be a promising afternoon. “When this baby heals?”

She let her voice trail off, eyes searching Sophie’s until they were peering at each other gently in the late afternoon light. “Yeah?” Her voice was just above a notch, breathlessly hanging on each of Jessie’s words.

“The scar is gonna drive all the boys crazy…”

Sophie rolled her eyes, frowning, giving Jessie a flicker of hope as she formed a reply. “Fat chance,” she murmured.

Jessie pressed. “Why’s that?”

Sophie squirmed gently, revealing more thigh in the process and spiking Jessie’s blood pressure to dangerously high levels. “Boys are so…yesterday.”

Jessie nodded. She couldn’t have agreed more. “Men, perhaps?” She continued to press, saying more with her tone than her words, and begging for the right response as the rest of her day, even night and, possibly, morning depended on the tenor of Sophie’s reply.

“What are you, my mother?”

Jessie snorted. That was definitelynotthe response she was expecting, let alone looking for. “Why do you say that, Sophie?”

“Because you’re leaving out a whole cross section of people I wouldn’t mind driving crazy with my hip new surfing scar.” There was a playful, taunting lilt to Sophie’s tone, low and husky as if someone might hear them, alone and mere inches apart on the back deck.

Jessie nodded, still circling the wound affectionately. “Okay, so you’re a modern woman,” she teased, dancing just shy of asking which cross section Sophie was interested in. “Interesting.”

“Is it, Jessie?” Sophie pressed, humor in her eyes and a fresh sheen on her lips.

Jessie’s chuckle was hoarse and blunt. Hearing Sophie say her name was tapping into her deepest, darkest desires. “Oh, very.”

“I mean, who knows, maybe you’ll even dig my surfing scar one day.”

“Would you like that, Sophie?”

Sophie squirmed just a smidge more, as if eager to offer a fresh glimpse of what lay beneath her already skimpy bikini. Or, perhaps, not knowing how much Jessie looked forward to her every shift and quake. Sophie nodded, biting her lower lip as if afraid to say much more. Jessie smirked, gently circling the scrape one last time as if going around it once more might prove too tempting.

Sophie shivered, peering down at the offending wound and tenderly covering Jessie’s hand with her own.

“Anyway, thank you,” she said, their eyes meeting in the late afternoon sun, then lingering just a smidge longer than normal. Then a moment longer still. “For everything.”

Jessie nodded, emotion finally getting the best of her. It had been such a strange day, being caught by Sophie after dawn patrol that morning, the sudden spike of attraction, sharing a flirtatious can of iced coffee together on the boardwalk, tussling unexpectedly with her boss at work, the nerves and apprehension afterward and, obviously…the surfing lesson itself. She felt as if the entire day had been spent in a bubble of damp, dewy anticipation, building silently with every furtive glance and sexy chuckle, and kept waiting for it to burst.

“It…it was nothing,” she murmured, still sitting on her butt at Sophie’s feet, peering up at her sexy companion, glistening from the ocean water clinging to her like a halo. In the silence that followed, Jessie drank Sophie in, all of her, as if memorizing every soft curve and sharp angle and lurid, tempting inch: the glowing tan lines so distinct against her radiant olive complexion, her ripe, supple breasts, pressing against the wet bikini, nipples thick and inviting, her smooth thighs and the soft pooch of her belly, just aching to be touched and so, so very close.

Sophie shook her head, damp ringlets caressing her shoulders, so tender and ripe and bare. “No, Jessie, it was…everything.”

Jessie swallowed; hard. This was it, she felt. The “make or break” moment her entire day had been leading up to. The time to act on the desire that had been gurgling, just under the surface, all afternoon. The chance to cash in on all that flirty talk, the vague innuendos, and hints and shivers and quiet, daring glances. In short, it was time for both of them to put up or shut up.

The answer wouldn’t change how Jessie felt about Sophie. That was cemented in her DNA, woven into her short-term memory, destined to stay there a good, long while. They could still be friends, flirty even, but the response—good or bad—would determine whether or not Jessie kept pushing the needle too far or simply created an awkward record scratch, screeching their simmering romance to a stiff, certain halt. If so, Jessie could ease off the gas and switch into friends mode, disappointed but not disillusioned.

Either way, it was now or never.

“Maybe…” Jessie suggested, standing abruptly as if to keep the momentum going. Or, perhaps, to keep from chickening out. “Maybe we should get you comfortable and off your feet, huh?”

“More comfortable thanthis?” Sophie asked, rising just the same. They stood, face to face, still damp from the sea. “I think you just want to get me inside.”

A jolt rippled through Jessie’s body. She licked the salt from her lips as she nodded self-consciously. “Guilty as charged,” she murmured, reaching down to take Sophie’s hand.

Sophie accepted it, squeezing it tenderly, almost desperately as they lingered on the back deck. The motion brought them even closer than before, eye to eye and face to face, the soft Florida breeze caressing their mostly bare skin.

“Would you like that, Sophie?”

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