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Passion's Tide

Passion's Tide

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One final day in the Aloha State brings this vacationer to the golden-drenched heights of ecstasy with the hottest lifeguard she’s ever seen.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go shopping with us?” Laurie asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sure,” I said.

In the passenger seat, Alexis turned and regarded me with a good-natured smile. “You won’t get another chance,” she said.

My two friends and I had journeyed all the way to Hawaii, and the only thing they wanted to do was shop. I, on the other hand, was eager to hit the beach, especially since today was our last full day in the Aloha State. Consulting the guidebook on my lap, I said, “Turn left at the end of the road. The beach should be right there.”

Laurie brought the rental car to a stop beside several other parked vehicles. “Call us when you’ve had enough sun, and we’ll come get you,” she said.

“Thanks. See you later.” I gathered my beach bag and towel, got out of the car, and bid my friends good-bye.

It was a beautiful day, even by Hawaiian standards. The sun shone brightly in a pale blue sky dotted with clouds. The sparkling ocean sported whitecaps in the strong breeze. Only a few swimmers were braving the turbulent surf, but the golden arc of the beach itself was dotted liberally with sunbathers. I found a spot to spread out my towel.

To my right, a lifeguard shack reflected the beach scene in its windows. Down at the water’s edge, an attractive couple tossed a Frisbee back and forth. The girl turned, and I saw that her bikini was of the thong variety. She wasn’t alone; I could see four or five other women in thongs from where I was sitting. That bolstered my confidence, as I was wearing one myself. The wind whipped my blonde hair about as I pulled off my t-shirt and shorts and began applying suntan lotion all over my body.

As I turned onto my stomach, my gaze fell on the lifeguard shack. A young man in green-and-white swim trunks was leaning against the balcony railing, looking in my direction. Barefoot and bare-chested, he had a deep Maui tan and a lean, sexy body. I couldn’t keep a coy grin from spreading across my face. After a moment he grinned, too, just enough to let me know we’d made a connection. Seconds passed; neither of us looked away. My heart skipped a beat and I inhaled sharply, for it hit me then — with utter certainty — that he and I would fuck before the day was through.

The lifeguard’s gaze moved on to survey the rest of the beach before he disappeared inside the shack. I tried to relax, but I kept imagining him watching me, staring at my almost naked body under the blazing sun. Maybe, in the privacy of his shack, he was stroking himself as he looked at me through the windows. The thought made me wet; I had to fight the urge to slip my hand inside my swimsuit bottom and touch myself. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I stood and headed for the water to cool off.

The waves seemed unusually powerful, so I proceeded slowly. I hadn’t gone far when a youthful but authoritative voice from behind me said, “Uh, miss? You shouldn’t go in just now.”

I turned, and there was my lifeguard. He was about my age, maybe twenty-five. I wanted to run my hands over his smooth, brown chest.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, when I found my voice.

“High surf,” he replied. “Possible riptides. Dangerous.”

“Oh.” I looked around, saw that no one else was in the water, and felt foolish.

“Just wait a little while,” he said, sounding less official now. “I know this beach. It’ll be okay later.” His eyes, dark brown with flecks of gold, dropped to where my white bikini top was doing such a poor job of covering my breasts. My nipples hardened under his gaze. Something else was hardening, too, judging by the shape and size of the bulge in his swim trunks.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“California,” I replied. “My name’s Jasmine.”

“I’m Carter.” He brushed a lock of unruly hair off his forehead. We gazed at each other in silence for a moment, letting the sparks fly.

“I’ll let you know when it’s safe,” he said at last.

“Thank you.” Then I remembered the Hawaiian word. “Mahalo.”

He smiled and turned to go, but then hesitated. “I could show you an awesome place for swimming. A protected cove, just around the coastline from here.” He nodded toward the far end of the beach. “It’s hard to get to, without that.” He stuck a thumb over his shoulder, and I saw a little dune buggy parked beside the shack.

“Sounds fantastic.”

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