Page 3 of 4th of July With Dad's Best Friend

I want her, and I’m a man who is used to getting what he wants, but I’m suddenly almost tongue tied, which has to be a first for me. I desperately want to go over and talk to her, but what do I say? Yet the need to go over and find out everything I can about this enigmatic young woman is unbelievably intense. And that ass, my cock is twitching in my shorts just looking at her.

As I’m standing around like a love struck schoolboy, I see a guy approach her, or to be more accurate swagger over to her. For a moment I think I’ve missed my chance. He’s blonde, buff in the way that expensive tennis lessons will give you, with an air of entitlement that would rival even mine. He’s also nearer her age, she can’t be more than early twenties. I have a sudden urge to dunk him in the sea, but try my best to ignore it. I should have moved faster.

But then I see the way he speaks to her, with an arrogant look on his face that makes me bristle. His eyes are on her tits rather than her face and I feel a rush of protectiveness. She steps away from him, and though I’m too far away to hear what they are saying she is clearly unimpressed. Then he puts a hand on her arm and I see her flinch away.

I’m over there in seconds.

“Is he harassing you?” I growl. She looks up at me, startled, and I’m struck by the full force of her beauty. For a moment I think we know each other, but I would remember if I had set eyes on this vision of loveliness before.

“He was just leaving,” she says firmly. I look at the guy, whose cheeks are now flushed with anger.

“You heard the lady,” I say. “Fuck off.”

He squares his shoulders. I’m six foot two and built, so I’m distinctly unimpressed and I let it show on my face.

“What’s it to you?” he says arrogantly, although I can see a flicker of fear in his eyes.

But I have to keep my temper, I remind myself. I can’t afford to get into any more trouble than I’m currently in. And I certainly don’t want to scare off the woman, who is looking up at me with admiration now, and it’s a good feeling.

“I don’t like to see women being harassed,” I say, and regardless of the sudden desire to impress the women next to me it’s most definitely true. I’ve never understood men like him. I grew up with a strong woman for a mother and an older sister who has inherited her smarts. I can’t stand leches or creeps. “And I’m feeling exceptionally grumpy today. So if you don’t go away, I will make you. We clear?”

He glares at me for a minute, then sneers.

“She’s not all that anyway,” he says as he retreats. I just manage to stop myself from punching him in the face, but my hand fists at my side. He sees it and is gone, walking off muttering to himself, swaggering. I snort with laughter and turn to the girl. She’s staring at me, and I’m not so out of practice with women that I can’t make sense of the look in her eyes.

Desire. She wants me too. Her eyes are drinking me in, and I wonder what she’s thinking. If, like me, she is imagining her being in my arms and me peeling that tiny bikini off her lush body, while I kiss every inch of her golden skin.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

“No worries,” I say politely. “I’m Alex. Pleased to meet you.”

She hesitates, a slight frown on her face, then her face clears and she takes my hand. I feel an electric tingle along my arm at the touch of her skin on mine.

“Jenny,” she says softly.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” I say, and then wince. I am out of practice after all, it seems.

“Sorry,” I say. “That was pretty cringe worthy wasn’t it?”

She laughs, a musical sound that makes me smile too. Honestly, everything about her is making me want to throw her over my shoulder and take her home. Make her mine. Give her my babies. The full shebang. I feel shocked to my core at the suddenness of it.

“I’ve heard worse,” she laughs again.

I jerk my head in the direction that the blonde guy went off in.

“What did he say to you?”

She wrinkles her perfect nose in a grimace.

“Something about it being my lucky day?”

“Wow. Okay, that’s definitely worse.”

She tips her head to one side and studies me and it’s a gesture I find vaguely familiar, although I can’t place why.

“He didn’t seem like he was about to take no for an answer either. Thank you for scaring him off. Can I get you an ice cream? There’s a nice little kiosk over there.”

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