Hit the Spot

And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed that look a little. Pissedoff Tori was sexy as shit.

“Is this part of the lesson?” she griped. “Listening to you build your ego up? ’Cause honestly? It’s not worth the money I paid.”

I chuckled. Fuck. I could go all day with her. And she was setting me up for it too.

“Only thing buildin’ during this lesson is gonna be your need to rub one out later,” I shot back. “Which, you do that, and you’re callin’ in the bet, meanin’ I win.”

“That won’t be happening,” she snapped. “The building part or you winning anything. You see what I’m wearing.”

And there it was.

Game plan revealed.

I smiled big, confirming, “Yeah, I see it. I see a lot of bikinis doin’ what I do. And I get your play here, Legs, but for real, you are out of your fuckin’ mind wearin’ that to surf.”

No joke. I was predicting a minute in the water before something shifted and popped out.

“I think I’ll manage,” Tori argued, reaching around her neck to loosen the strings of her top.

She pulled them tight and went about reinforcing the tie, thinking she was making things more secure but really only causing her tits to bounce and push up higher.

I watched this happen. I had to.

Jesus.

Guys typically had a preference when it came to size. Big. Small. Not me, though. Tits were tits. I liked them big. I liked them small. I liked them spilling out of my hands and fitting into my mouth. Whatever. But seeing Tori’s tits in the getup she was wearing? Getting the view I was getting right now? Yeah … now I had a fucking preference.

Hers.

I stared openly at the shadow of her cleavage until her arms dropped to her sides, signaling she was finished, and still, I stared for another full second before lifting my head.

Who wouldn’t? She was putting shit on display for me. And on top of that, she was making her shit bounce.

Besides, looking wasn’t begging. I could look all I wanted.

“Well?” She pulled her sunglasses off and tossed them on her towel. “You ready?”

I looked her straight in the eyes. Fuck yeah, I was ready. Was she?

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I reminded her, stepping back and holding my arm out.

She walked past me toward my board, grinning like a winner, swaying her hips and checking over her shoulder to make sure I was watching.

I was.

Tori didn’t just have the tits. She had the ass, too. And I was looking my fill.

Then I moved to stand on the opposite side of her, putting the board between us, and went about going over some basics.

Everything was protocol. I started off the same way as every lesson. Except instead of telling Tori where to put her body, I put her body in the positions I wanted her to be in, explaining my steps as I went along and adjusting her even when she really didn’t need adjusting.

I was playing the game. And I was taking opportunity.

“Bend your knees more. Drop lower,” I said, standing behind her and pressing close, cock to ass, running my hand down the back of her thigh and pushing it out while my other hand fit around her waist and flattened on her stomach.

She was low enough on the board. There was no need for what I was doing.

Except there was extreme need for what I was doing. She felt so damn good against me.

“That line on the board, keep it centered on your body when you’re paddlin’. Right here,” I told her, indicating midline by brushing my fingertips down her throat to between her collarbone and farther down, stopping just at the top of her cleavage.

Way unnecessary. Who didn’t know where the center of their body was? Even a kid could point to their fucking belly button.

But again, taking opportunity. I’d be a damn fool not to at this point.

Her breathing hitched, too quiet to hear over the noise around us, but I felt it shudder and pause against the pads of my fingers.

That was her only tell. She was determined.

Didn’t step out of my arms. Didn’t tell me to stop. She wouldn’t give an indication that this was affecting her. No fucking way.

Tori was here to win and was bringing her game just as hard.

“Like this?”

“Is this right?”

“Jamie, I … can you help me?”

She’d ask, in this sweet bedroom voice that made blood run hot in my veins.

Smiling. Bending low. Popping her ass out. Grabbing on to me and acting like she was losing balance when she wasn’t. Taking the band out of her hair and letting all that soft blond down, allowing it to blow in the breeze like she was on location for a damn swimsuit calendar shoot.

Straight up. I’d buy enough of them to wallpaper my fucking house.

She was looking that good.

After I had her practice popping up on the board more times than needed, which should’ve been for her benefit, but considering what she was wearing, it was for mine, I told her to hop off and picked my board up off the sand.

“Come on. Let’s get you out,” I said, walking toward the water.

“What?”

I turned my head and looked back at Tori. She hadn’t moved.

“Let’s go,” I urged, starting to walk again but halting when she didn’t follow. “Legs …”

“Why?” she asked, suddenly looking unsure and unsettled, her fingers knotting together at her stomach.

“Why?” I echoed. “What do you mean, why? You’re surfin’, right?”