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  Making Waves

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  Dedication

  Making Waves

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  Making Waves

  by

  Juliet Chastain

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Making Waves

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Juliet Chastain

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2017

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0969-9

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  For ELM. Yes, right down to the eggs and bacon.

  Making Waves

  The surfers call it the green room. A wave catches you. Down you go and around and around as though you were inside a washing machine. Not nice. I tumbled over and over, no idea of what was up or what was down, desperately holding my breath while what felt like gallons of seawater pumped painfully into my sinuses.

  And then…bang! I slammed head first into the shore and a pair of suntanned legs.

  I lay stunned, my face on someone’s foot and the rest of me on a bed of tiny prickly seashells.

  A pair of hands pulled me to my feet as a masculine voice said, “Better get up before the next wave catches you.” I couldn’t have agreed more.

  One quick glimpse of sparkling blue eyes before the next wave shoved me into him real up-close and personal. We rocked slightly, but thanks to the sturdy stance of my rescuer it didn’t knock us over. Lucky, as I hadn’t caught my breath yet.

  He turned us around, so the waves slammed into his back instead of mine as he danced me out of the water while I noisily sucked air, happy to know which end was up, glad to be alive.

  I became conscious of being held tightly against a solid male body. A very solid, mostly naked, male body. I was underdressed myself.

  He released me, saying, “You’re all safe now.”

  I looked up, still a bit dazed, into a movie-star gorgeous face. Wide, sensual mouth, strong chin, dark straight brows, and heavy lashes, which—be still my beating heart—curled. To add to the effect, the low sun behind him made a halo of his damp, dark blond curls. I figured I’d drowned in the green room and gone directly to heaven, although not exactly the one they’d told me about in Sunday school. This heaven would be a whole lot more fun.

  He gave me a friendly smile. If this truly is paradise, he’ll take me in his arms again. I’d been too busy enjoying the pleasure of being able to breathe to fully appreciate the embrace the first time.

  He made no move to clasp me to him. Instead, he said, “Waves are a little gnarly today.”

  Gnarly? I figured that must be surfer-speak for big waves that try to kill you, however, I managed to say something about how I never did get the hang of body surfing.

  He responded, “I got thrashed once, totally wiped out. The wave smashed me so hard onto the sand that I got a bloody nose. Bled like crazy.” He laughed. “My face was all scraped up too. I was not a pretty sight for weeks.”

  Well, you are a pretty sight now, I thought, but I said, “That must have hurt.”

  “It did, but not as much as it hurt my pride.”

  I laughed. “I’ve had plenty of blows to my pride, but never directly to my nose, thank goodness.” As though to prove me wrong, water and God knows what else began pouring out of my nostrils. I swiped at the outpouring with the back of my wet hand and snuffled really hard to stop the deluge. No way I wanted stuff coming out my nose in front of this Adonis. Figured I couldn’t be in heaven after all. Surely you wouldn’t bring the seawater in your sinuses when you ascended.

  “Sounds like there are some stories behind that,” he said.

  “Many.” I smiled and then sniffed gently, the deluge thankfully under control.

  He tilted his head giving me a quizzical look, but I didn’t think I should start chatting about my various misadventures. Most of those would let him know that I was not only older than he, but also a total loser in the sex and love department. I had zero desire to point out either one right now. How old is he? A college kid maybe?

  Instead I said, “Wow, looks like I really drifted. I don’t even see my shirt and towel.” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I realized I was chatting with this adorable young thing while wearing a pair of shorts with the legs rolled up high and my turquoise-colored bra. No, I didn’t forget to bring my swimsuit, but the five-year-old garment had become too small. I never knew bathing suits could shrink. Okay, okay—I know the real reason it didn’t fit, but I hate to be reminded that I’m a few pounds heavier than I used to be. As for going into town to get something new—ugh, I didn’t want to see my body stuffed into a tiny garment and reflected in a three-way mirror.

  The beach was almost deserted—guess no one goes on a beach vacation in Florida in August—so I figured my brightly-colored bra would look like a bikini top if I didn’t get close to anyone…you get the picture.

  “Yeah, the current is pretty strong today.” He picked up the white surfboard lying on the beach. “Your stuff will be back there.” He nodded south down the beach, and we started walking in that direction across the warm sand. I wondered if it would seem weird if I sucked in my stomach at this point.

  Trying to say something appropriate to a surfer who said the waves were gnarly, I asked, “Was the water good for you today?”

  “Bitchin’. But it’s always awesome to hit the waves.”

  “You love the ocean.”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  He stopped, so I did too. “My name is Kai,” he said.

  “Kai?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.

  “Yeah, Kai.” He spelled it out, “K.A.I. It’s Hawaiian. It means ocean. I love the ocean so much, I changed my name to Kai.”

  I smiled. “That’s really nice.” And such a young-person thing to do. “I’m Natalie, Natalie Michaels.” He shifted the board and extended his hand.

  “Kai MacDaniel.” We shook.

  We walked again. It felt companionable. He seemed so relaxed and comfortable that I began to feel less self-conscious and awkward. I will also admit to developing a fine case of lust. It had been a really long time since I’d been laid—and even longer since I had a great time in bed.

  “I saw you on the beach the last couple days while I was out there,” he tilted his head toward the ocean, “but I don’t think I’ve seen you here before that.”

  “I’m a New Yorker, an English teacher. I taught summer school this year, so I didn’t have much time for vacation. I squeezed in five days down here. I only have a couple more days left. I leave on Monday morning. I’ve been wandering the beach and taking a dip in the ocean every afternoon.”

  “Short vacation.” He smiled. “I always wanted to live on this beach. As soon as we finished college, my best friend and I moved here. We rent a place half a block from the ocean.” Ah, at least he’s not such a child that he’s living with his parents.


  “So you get to surf a lot?”

  “Every day there’s anything even halfway worth surfing on, I’m out here.”

  “Doesn’t work interfere?”

  “I don’t have a regular job yet. Won’t begin one until the fall. Teaching school—like you. Fifth grade. Do you walk a lot?”

  “I’m loving walking here—if I get hot I can just jump in the water.” And speaking of getting wet, why hadn’t I gone into town and bought myself a proper bathing suit? Something to hold my stomach in, restore my breasts to their original perky position, and pinch in my waist. An outfit in short, that would make me look like a woman a young guy like Kai might want?

  “I should walk more,” he said.

  “I wish I’d learned to surf,” I said. “It looks like so much fun.”

  “It’s amazing. If you like, I’ll teach you.”

  That took me by surprise. Is he actually flirting with me or just being polite? “I’d love that.” I glanced up at him and met his bluer-than-the-sky gaze. My heart skipped a beat. “But I don’t think I have enough time left.” I managed to say as I dragged my eyes away from his. “Oh, here’s my stuff.”

  “Great. I was hoping the tide hadn’t taken it. I have to go back.” He nodded back up the beach. “Promised my roommate I’d cook tonight.” He extended his hand and I took it. We shook. “I hope we’ll see each other down here tomorrow.”

  “Me, too.” I hoped my tone wasn’t too wistfully enthusiastic. Kai smiled a million kilowatt smile and gave my hand a little squeeze before letting go.

  “I’ll be down here in the late afternoon. See you then?”

  I nodded, feeling ridiculously pleased that he’d asked. He turned and ran back down the beach.

  Nice view from the back, I thought shamelessly. He looked good from every angle I’d seen—even with my eyes full of seawater. I remembered how the tanned legs had appeared right in front of my nose. And the concern in the sparkling blue eyes gazing down at me.

  Trying to be realistic, I muttered, “He’s just a friendly guy. Waving at me from the surf is all he has in mind.”

  Before he ran up the crossover—the stairs and boardwalk across the dune—Kai turned and gave me a salute. Made me feel all pleased and happy again.

  Reality check, I told myself sternly. He’s just a kid, a surfer-boy, and for all I know some girl with an awesome body is his girlfriend. Maybe she’s the best friend-roommate. And I’m a thirty-five year old woman who should have been going to the gym more often—a lot more often. No use hungering for a hunk like him when…oh rats! I’d glanced down at myself and seen a little roll of fat above my shorts. Ugh. No way would a gorgeous guy like that give a second thought to a not-so-gorgeous woman like me.

  ****

  That night, I had a lurid dream in which Kai and I made love at the ocean’s edge. My husband and I had tried that very thing during a vacation in the Bahamas shortly before he died four years ago. We’d found it no fun at all. In the dream, however, the waves never rolled us onto sharp shells, and the seawater didn’t wash away the sensual pleasure along with the lubrication, or get up my nose. No sand ended up uncomfortably inside my pussy.

  I dreamt I sat at the water’s edge, holding my knees and admiring the reflection of the full moon on the luminous black water while a gentle breeze played with my hair. When I heard footsteps approaching, I looked around and saw Kai jogging toward me. He wore the same blue board shorts he’d worn when he helped me out of the surf and nothing else.

  “Natalie.” He knelt beside me and regarded me intently. My heart constricted, and my toes curled into the wet sand. I could see desire in his eyes, desire for me.

  I came to my knees, and facing one another, we kissed long and slow. Mmm. His lips were cool. He took my face between his warm hands and slipped his tongue between my lips. It felt wet and soft, gentle and sweet. His hands caressed my shoulders, my back. He pulled me closer. Our tongues tangled and played behind my lips. Mmm…so sexy to be invaded that way.

  We moved closer to each other. I wrapped my arms around him, so my breasts were crushed by his broad chest as they had been when he danced me out of the water a few hours earlier. I held him tighter. Who knew breasts could feel so amazingly good just by being squashed against a gorgeous young man?

  He stroked my sides, slowly and lovingly. He covered my face with kisses. He nuzzled my ears and ran his fingers through my hair, murmuring my name over and over. I could feel his cock, hard and huge—this was a really good dream—sliding across my belly. The ocean gurgled and swirled softly around our knees.

  Desire flared to life in my belly and flamed upward. I knew his desire for me was almost overwhelming him, yet he cared for me, and my pleasure, so much that he held himself in check. My heart constricted, and then seemed to bloom happily outward.

  He ran his hands over my ass. I would have sighed, but no sound came out. When he stroked the sides of my breasts, I leaned back and pulled off my T-shirt. I had no bra on. He caressed my naked flesh, his hands cool as he ran them around my breasts, gentle at first and then harder, squeezing and crushing deliciously. He circled my nipples with his fingers and then pinched them and flicked his finger across them. I arched my back, making my breasts even more available, longing for more and more. He kissed first one nipple and then the other.

  Oh God, I needed to groan, to cry out as he sucked on one, but I was mute. By the time he sucked on the other, I was utterly consumed with lust. If I became any wetter, I’d drip.

  He whispered, “Baby, I can’t wait any longer, I need to make us one.”

  Can I help it if the dialogue in my dreams is like the worst movie I ever saw? But my heart hammered joyously as I tried to murmur yes, but still couldn’t speak. I lay down in the swirling water.

  As he knelt over me he said, “I love you, Natalie. I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you.” He bent and nibbled my neck, my breasts. I could feel his big cock brushing my thighs. I couldn’t wait another second. He seemed to understand what I wanted—needed so desperately.

  His cock surged against my pussy, ready to enter me. I raised my eyes to the black starry sky, thinking I might weep with happiness.

  With that I woke up, my pulse racing, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. I was sweaty even though I’d thrown the covers off in my sleep. My pussy ached for satisfaction, preferably with Kai. In short, I was one, over-heated, turned-on, and extremely frustrated woman.

  “Oh shit,” I groaned. Couldn’t I have stayed asleep another few minutes? I’d just met the guy—the boy—for a few minutes and now I’d had a cheesy—and yes, very sexy—dream about him. The real Kai sure seemed nice. And maybe he had a girlfriend. On the other hand—my heart did a hopeful little jig—maybe he didn’t.

  I reminded myself that I’d come down here to escape my real life in which I was still reeling from the departure of my last almost-boyfriend.

  Josh had walked out on me six months ago after telling me he wanted someone more attractive, someone more fun, someone more desirable than me. I’d known all along that he was a mess, that he had serious psychological issues with relationships and with women in general. I knew he needed to lash out and hurt people. After all, he did it often enough to me. Still, that final scene had hurt a lot. I blinked a couple times. I refused to start weeping over the whole affair again.

  I hated thinking about how I’d hung in there with Josh, hoping he’d change while he ground my self-esteem into the dirt. How could I have been so pathetic?

  I frowned and folded my arms across my chest. I am not about to start longing for this kid. I am done with men of any age.

  Well, a one-night stand might be nice. Damn. Whether I wanted to or not, I was jonesing for the kid.

  I tried to be firm with myself. Doesn’t matter. He’s too young and too good-looking for me. Best not to get all hot and bothered about him. I just need to get laid is all. But I couldn’t stop myself thinking about Kai, hoping a miracle would happ
en and I could have a one-night stand with him while at the same time I knew I was being ridiculous. Maybe it wouldn’t be like the dream, but still I’d bet it would be fun. But for all I could tell, he regarded me as some kind of wacky mother figure or something.

  On the other hand, maybe he had a thing for older women. I drew my lips back, baring my teeth, and snarled. I’d rather be a cougar in this situation than a mother figure.

  “Oh, stop it.” I sighed, rolled out of bed, and made myself coffee in the tiny kitchenette.

  ****

  In spite of my intentions to forget about the dream and to stop lusting for Kai, bits of the dream kept popping into my head. I squared my shoulders and reminded myself of the following:

  A. He is too young for me.

  B. He probably has a girlfriend, maybe, who has killer good looks. Just my luck.

  C. He’s much too handsome to be interested in me, seeing as I don’t have killer good looks.

  D. I’m too old for him, and he’s too young for me.

  E. I do not want to be thinking about this.

  It didn’t work. I still yearned for the beautiful young man.

  No use yearning, I reminded myself. After Josh’s ugly words, I’d never feel sure enough of myself to go after someone like Kai, even if I weren’t worried about the age difference.

  Back home, my girlfriends had shaken their heads and told me to choose better and stay away from men who didn’t fully appreciate me. They pointed out that just because Josh was a creep did not mean I could never happily have sex again. They said even the occasional one-night stand might do me good. But I’d just about reached the point where I’d rather stay home with my trusty vibrator. Pathetic, huh?

  Things had changed drastically in the last…I counted on my fingers…sixteen hours. Sun, sand, and sexy surfer had combined to turn me into a sex-crazed fiend who was more than ready for some action with the delectable Kai.

  No matter how many times I snarled, “Just stop it!” at myself, or tried to cool my ardor by swimming in the motel’s pool, or by chatting with the friendly owner, or by lying under a green umbrella on the beach reading Pride and Prejudice, my mind was full of Kai and my body stayed worked up as well. To put it bluntly, I wanted—no, needed—to fuck that surfer boy’s brains out. ASAP.