Chapter 8
June 6th, 1990
"Okay, now this time I'm going to just give you a little push on the back of the surfboard. Center yourself and get ready."
We were out in the ocean. Dean was taking the time to show me how to surf and it was not going well. As he gave my surfboard a little tap, I found myself staying up on the surfboard for about a half second before crashing into the water again. Oh well, I thought. At least my top is still on.
I came to the surface, sputtering once again. Dean grabbed my hand, steadying me before going after the surfboard. He grabbed it and brought it back to me.
"Quick, get back on the board, I can see a great swell coming," he said, obviously excited.
"You take it." I unlatched the surfboard from my ankle and handed him the strap. Dean had seemed excited about surfing, yet he hadn't even gotten on the board yet.
"Please, just ride this wave. Then you can watch me surf for the rest of the afternoon," he said, pushing the strap away.
I laughed. "Okay." I laid on my stomach, waiting for his signal.
"Okay, on the count of three, stand up. One, two, three!" I felt the push on the back of the surfboard and stood up. The wave began to carry me away, and I managed to keep my balance. This is it, I thought. I was actually traveling over the water, standing as the wave behind me pushed me toward the shore.
I screamed a victory scream as I felt the exhilaration overcome me. Then I made the mistake of looking back at Dean. I quickly lost my balance and fell off the board, crashing into the water with an ungraceful somersault. I came to the surface, coughing but cheering too. Dean was there in a minute, holding out his hand for a high five. "You did it!"
I reached out to reciprocate the gesture, then started to go after the board. In a moment, my feet brushed the bottom. We had hit a sand bar, and the water only came up to the middle of my chest. I kept walking toward the shore, but Dean's hand reached out and grabbed me. I stopped to look at him. "What's your hurry?" he asked, wrapping his other hand around my waist.
"But... your surfboard..." I started.
"It'll wash up on shore," he said, then leaned down and kissed me. I quickly lost myself to the kiss, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. His hands went to my sides, pulling me in closer. As we stood there, kissing, another wave crashed against Dean's back. My feet lost their grip on the ocean floor, but Dean stayed steady. I wrapped my legs around his hips. He was a rock that I could cling to, and as another wave hit us, I found myself gripping him even tighter.
The salt water tasted delicious on my lips as the two of us kissed, and I was getting more turned on by the moment. My chest was heaving, and as another wave splashed into us, I held onto him, my br**sts pushing against his muscular pectorals. My hands moved down his neck to his back. My nails dug in, grasping for purchase as his hands moved down to my ass.
I broke from the kiss and looked behind me. Anyone on the beach would have to really squint to see us way out here. I turned and faced Dean. His blue eyes looked at me, then looked over the top half of my body hungrily. I smiled as I lifted my bikini top off of my br**sts. It still hung off my neck, though. There was no way I was going to let my expensive bathing suit drift off into the ocean, especially knowing that I'd have to make it back to shore to get my shirt on.
Dean removed one of his hands from my ass, bringing it up to my boobs. His strong fingers kneaded them. Every time his hand touched my nipple, I felt a surge of pleasure rush through my veins. I could feel the bulge in his shorts as our bodies rubbed together. I wanted it. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything before. As our kisses grew more intense, I moaned loudly. I was working myself into a frenzy, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Dean wasn't much better off. My moaning seemed to be spurring him on, and he growled hungrily as he moved his lips to my jaw. As he moved his mouth farther down, his teeth grazed the skin of my neck before he nibbled my shoulder. My nails clawed at his back, and I meant to scream out "Dean!" but it came out as only a whisper. He heard me loud and clear, though, and he kissed across my neck to my other shoulder. He bit down on that one too, claiming me as his own.
I had had enough and couldn't take any more. I moved my hands down, tugging on his shorts. I felt him pull his rod out, pushing it against the fabric of my bikini bottom. Without a second thought, I pulled the fabric to the side, allowing him access to my inner sanctum. He pressed against me...
And then he pulled back. He looked at me very seriously. His blue eyes searched mine, asking for reassurance. "I don't have a condom," he said sheepishly, his mouth forming half a smile. An unanswered question lay behind those eyes. Are you okay with this?
All thoughts of rejecting him were already out the window, but that last gesture was the moment I knew I was in love. To answer his non-question, I grabbed onto his manhood, guiding it into myself. A wave splashed on Dean's back, pushing him forward just as I felt him swell within me. His hands went to my ass, steadying me.
As he regained his footing, he began to move me back and forth. I couldn't help myself as I began to moan loudly. I glanced down to see him biting his lip, admiring at my body up and down. I felt so sexy in front of him, completely unashamed of any flaws I might have. I could tell that he thought I was perfect, that I was everything he wanted in a woman.
Despite wave after wave crashing over our bodies, Dean's pace remained constant. The friction against my body caused my own pleasure to rise and fall in waves, though it grew ever higher. Within another minute, I found myself hugging Dean's strong body tightly. Maybe if I held him close, he'd never stop admiring me, never stop causing me this pleasure.
I felt a tidal wave of euphoria rising within me, and I knew that it would soon crash against my shore. I held on for dear life as Dean's speed increased gradually, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I felt my levee break, felt my body open up as ecstasy swept me up in its power. As my orgasm hit, I pushed myself away from Dean's body. I wanted to see those blue eyes.
Suddenly, Dean's fingers tightened on my ass. His face contorted but his eyes never left mine. I nodded fiercely, letting him know what I wanted. Do it, please. I was no longer thinking rationally, and as his mouth dropped with pleasure, I felt him fill my body with a tidal wave of his own. My own orgasm heightened, and I felt my muscles draw him in deeper. I wanted him. I wanted all of him, and I never wanted this moment to end.
The moment did end, though, and soon his pace slowed down. He stared into my eyes, his face full of wonder. I probably had the same look on my face, and the thought on both of our minds was clear. How did we get so lucky?
We kissed softly, tenderly, as the waves continued to crash over us. Eventually, he set me down. I fixed my bathing suit and he pulled his back up. He held my hand as he surveyed the beach for his surfboard. When he found it, he pointed it out to me, then squeezed my hand. He dove into the water and headed toward the beach. I followed close behind, realizing we hadn't said a word since our mutual orgasm. We didn't have to.
***
Tony and Kim were still at the condo when we got back. Dean stayed in the front room and chatted with Tony as I changed out of my bathing suit. When I was nak*d, Dean entered my room. I began to cover up with my hands, but then smiled and relaxed. He still looked at me hungrily, as if he were seeing me nak*d for the first time.
"Frontera and Kim are going to stay here tonight," he said. "Would you like to stay at my place again?"
I smiled at him. "I'd love to."
"Bring some pajamas," he said. "I wouldn't want you to get cold."
***
Dean and I laid on the roof of Tony's house. There wasn't much light pollution, so Dean told me about all the constellations he knew. He told me stories about being in the Army. I didn't care what he talked about. All I cared about was the fact that he was holding my hand.
Beneath us, Jenny and Matt were going at it again, and Jenny couldn't help but be loud. I was glad she was having such a good time, because I had never had a better time in my life. A shooting star flared across the sky, and I knew what my wish was immediately. I wished that this week would never end, that Dean and I could stay up on this roof or hang out at the bar forever. I'd even spend forever surfing with him.
If this vacation couldn't last forever, if life demanded that we move on, then I would be all right with that, as long as Dean was still a part of my life.
Chapter 9
Two and a half years ago
I alternated between staring at the heavy wooden doors and glaring at my watch. A notepad with a new pen sat waiting at my fingertips, but I wasn't even tempted to doodle. Dean Sherman had my complete and utter attention, and he wasn't even in the room yet.
What would I say to him? Hi, Dean. I sent you a letter every day for a month, but I never got one from you. That sounded too harsh. Especially since I knew he had never gotten a single one of my letters. I had sent them out religiously once I moved to New York to work for the Saunders family, but after a month of no replies, the postman had handed me a stack of unopened letters. Something in the address Dean had given me had made them undeliverable.
You could have just told me you weren't interested. Instead I waited for you. I asked my landlord to forward all my mail, but I never got anything. Not even a postcard! No, that wasn't fair either. It was very possible that my landlord just was lazy and threw out all my mail instead of forwarding it. Maybe he wouldn't even remember me. Maybe he had simply wanted to forget me.
Maybe I was just a stupid summer fling. That one hurt more than I wanted it to. Even after all this time, I still felt a connection. I hoped it wasn't just me.
The heavy wooden door swung open, and Dean strode in. My heart jumped into my throat as I took him in. It was definitely my Dean. He was still tall and lean, with the grace of a hunting cat. His dark hair had a slight smattering of silver, but instead of making him look old, it made him look distinguished. His eyes were exactly how I remembered them, blue pools the color of a winter sky.
He stopped for a moment as the door swung shut behind him. His eyes went wide for a moment, his cheeks going pale, but he regained his composure so quickly I wasn't one hundred percent sure I had even seen him hesitate.
"Hello, Dean," I said, proud that my voice didn't shake. I wiped my hand on my skirt under the desk before rising and offering it to him. His hand enveloped mine, the touch sending electrified tingles down my spine. His face gave nothing away as he let go and took a seat across from me.
"Rachel. I didn't know you worked for the Saunders family." He kept his voice neutral and professional, but I felt a thrill that he recognized me. I pushed my excitement down, though. Nothing good could come from it.
"Yes. I've worked for them for over twenty years. I'm Jack Saunders' personal assistant. I see you brought a resume?" I hoped I sounded confident because my knees were shaking. Dean slid a professional-looking resume across the desk. I had its twin in front of me, but I read down the paper again.
Joined the Army at seventeen. Selected for Special Forces and trained extensively. Deployments with Desert Storm and other classified missions. Released from the service and became a close protection officer in several diplomatic parties. His most recent position was with the young starlet.