Page 19 of Tropical Heat

“Let’s race. I'll let you kiss me if you win,” she said and took off sprinting. It took me nearly half a mile to catch up with her. I'm pretty sure she slowed her pace deliberately, because with a hundred yards to go, she left me in the dust.

I was panting when I reached where we had parked, but she wasn’t even winded. “Don't look so glum, Zak. I'm still going to let you kiss me.”

It was a fabulous kiss, even better than the one out on the reef. “Unless you're in a rush to get back, there's one more thing I want to show you. I think you'll find it the biggest surprise of the day.”

“Well, I do like surprises. Especially big ones.”

“It's a little out of the way, but I know a shortcut.” I said, helping her into the Jeep.

By the time we reached Misery Key, Morgan’s hand was back on my thigh. I was thinking about her lips and how much I enjoyed kissing them; and almost missed the turn.

Twelve

Morgan

Having lived in West Virginia for the first half of my life, back road shortcuts were nothing new to me. But what Zach turned on to could not be described as a road—back or otherwise. It was a little more than a path. Dense foliage lined both sides. The further we went, the taller the trees became until their branches blotted out the sky. The headlights of the Jeep provided enough illumination for me to see critters, big and small, scurry out of our way.

I momentarily wondered if I had misjudged Zak and very soon my face would be on one of those missing posters you see on telephone poles. Before my imagination could run away with me, the trees parted, and I was looking at what I guesstimated to be the Gulf of Mexico. Waves gently lapped at the shore of what could be no more than fifty feet of sandy beach. “Wow, I had no idea this place even existed.”

“Most people don't.” We stepped out of the vehicle, and he handed me a can of bug spray. “The salt water and tides keep the mosquitoes to a minimum, but put this on just to be safe.”

I looked up at the sky. Without the lights of town, a billion stars gleamed like diamond chips on black velvet. “Oh my god. This is amazing.”

“That's why I brought you here.” He grabbed a blanket from the back seat, and I wondered if looking at the stars was the only reason he had brought me there.

We stretched out the blanket on the sand and laid down. I thought he was going to finally make his move. But instead of kissing me, Zak put his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky. I politely listened while he pointed out the various constellations and tried to hide my frustration.

We were in one of the most romantic spots imaginable. Stars above us. The rhythmic sound of the waves moving in and out at our feet. Mating calls of nature sounded all around us. The air was heavy with floral scents. Not another person in sight.

But rather than lay a hand on me, Zak prattled on about Cassiopeia and the Greek goddess it was named for. Despite my best attempts at flirtation and several come hither looks, he had kissed me a total of two times that day, and one of those I had initiated. Then it hit me—Zak is a nice man. Too nice to try anything on a first date. Most women would consider it an admirable trait in a boyfriend.

But I was not interested in a boyfriend, only physical intimacy with a man whose company I enjoyed. If there were to be any benefits in this friendship, I would have to be more direct. Which was fine with me. My encounter with Dante aside, I preferred being the one in charge.

Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at him. He was funny without even knowing it, smart, and had the most beautiful gray eyes. I turned on my side for a better look. My nostrils flared at the scent of androstenol. His musky, earthy odor was incredibly arousing. I reached out a hand and brushed his cheek.

“Zak, I think you are an incredibly attractive man. You're also a gentleman and if the only reason you brought me here was to look at the stars, then I'm content to look at them with you.”

I ran my fingers through his hair. “But if you are looking for more, you should know that I consider myself a modern woman; and find the whole idea of a third date rule quaint but antiquated.

His eyes grew large, and he asked, “Are you saying what I think you are?”

I answered by wrapping my arm across his chest and kissing him. His tongue quickly found mine.

He was an incredible kisser, and for a long time, that's all we did. But as arousal grew, hands roamed. I tried to unbutton his shirt, but with no luck. The buttons were too large for the holes. I threw a leg over his waist and mounted him, so I could use both hands, but it was still a challenge. “Don't wear this shirt ever again.”

“I thought you said you liked it.”

“That was before I realized how hard it would be to get it off of you.” With the last button undone, I bent and kissed his smooth chest. When my tongue grazed an erect nipple, he shivered. I sucked it between my lips and could feel him grow hard beneath me.

He squeezed the cheeks of my ass through my shorts. I needed to feel his flesh against mine; raising up, I pulled the t-shirt over my head and threw it aside. He quickly found the string at the back of my bikini top and, with the slightest tug, released its hold. I dropped my shoulders and let the fabric slide free.

Zak’s hands rested motionless on my waist, but his eyes were locked on my swaying breasts. “You can touch them, you know. They don't bite.” That was all the encouragement he needed.

“I've been thinking about doing this since you took your shirt off on the boat.” At least that is what I think he said. The words were muffled by having my left nipple in his mouth when he spoke.

Zak might have been content to spend the night kissing and fondling, while grinding against my crotch, but I was growing damp and needed more. Standing up, I slipped off my bottoms before similarly relieving him of his shorts. Then climbed back atop of him and whispered, “I’ve been thinking about you being inside of me, long before we were on the boat.”

Realizing what was about to happen, he reached for his shorts and handed me a condom. “You should put this on. I mean, you should put it on me.”

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