made herself a piece of toast and peanut butter. Jeez. She needed some ibuprofen or something. Thank god she’d turned down the golf invitation, though she’d been tempted to tag along with the guys like she always had. Today she was going to go down to the beach, on hands and knees if necessary, flop down on the sand and lie there for the rest of the day.
She changed into her pink bathing suit, the black one still damp from yesterday, scooped up a bottle of SPF 30, slid her digital reader into a Ziploc bag to protect it from sand and grabbed a towel and a beach blanket. With painful steps she made her way across the yard, through the poplar trees and shrubs, and onto the beach.
She spread the blanket and sat, her thigh muscles crying out as she lowered herself. She picked up the sunscreen. She wouldn’t be able to do her back. Oh well. She’d just tan her front first. So she slathered up her front with sun protection, lay down, closed her eyes and breathed in the warm air. Some distant laughter and splashing and the hum of a boat out on the lake reached her ears. The sun warmed her face and relaxing heat seeped through her body. She sighed. Why had she not wanted to come up here again? She loved living in the city, loved restaurants and movies and concerts and shopping, hated leaving all that…but it was so nice here.
She might have dozed off a little, but awoke when a shadow covered her face. She cracked open one eye to see Tag sitting beside her on the blanket. “Hey,” she said. She tried to sit up, but gave up at the protest of her muscles and fell back down with a whimper. “You’re done golfing?”
“Yeah.”
“Who won?”
“Depends who you ask. Honestly, it was me. But it was close and I personally think all those other guys cheated.”
She laughed.
“Getting some sun, I see,” he said, and the husky tone of his voice prompted her to open her eyes again. He was wearing sunglasses, but she could feel his gaze on her, studying her from head to toe. Her nipples tingled and tightened in the thin cups of her suit and her stomach did a little flip.
“Yes. Actually, I could use some help putting sunscreen on my back.”
“I’m your man.”
She went to roll over but stopped with a groan. “Oh god.”
“What’s wrong? Are you sick again?”
“I was never sick,” she said crossly. “I just have a few sore muscles today.”
“From that little bit of skiing? Mac, honey, you clearly need to work out.”
“Thanks so much.”
“I don’t mean you look like you need to work out. You look…” He paused and cleared his throat. “You look freakin’ amazing. But don’t you go to a gym or something?”
“I haven’t for a while.” She pushed herself slowly over onto her stomach, painful knives stabbing into her muscles. “Too busy.”
“No wonder you’re so stressed. Exercise is the best way to deal with that.” A cold squirt of liquid landed on her back and she twitched. Then he started rubbing it in with slow, sensual strokes. “Seriously.”
“I know, but I’m busy. Some day I’ll have time for that.”
Some day. It seemed like a lot of her life was going to start “some day”―the day she made partner. Tag’s hands moved up and down her back, pressing into sore muscles.
“Oh my god,” she moaned.
“Feel good?”
“Mmmm.” He kneaded her sore shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the hollows beneath her shoulder blades, his palms sliding with firm pressure down the ridges of muscles along her spine. “You’re good at that.”
“I’ve had a few massages,” he said, sounding amused. “I may have picked up a few things.”
“Oh yeah.”
He kept massaging until she felt like she’d melted into a puddle of that sunscreen on the blanket.
“Where else is sore?”
“My…uh…thighs.”
“Oh yeah. Skiing’s hard on your abductors.”
“Whatever.”
His hands moved lower and began rubbing the backs of her legs, pushing her legs apart a little in a gesture
She changed into her pink bathing suit, the black one still damp from yesterday, scooped up a bottle of SPF 30, slid her digital reader into a Ziploc bag to protect it from sand and grabbed a towel and a beach blanket. With painful steps she made her way across the yard, through the poplar trees and shrubs, and onto the beach.
She spread the blanket and sat, her thigh muscles crying out as she lowered herself. She picked up the sunscreen. She wouldn’t be able to do her back. Oh well. She’d just tan her front first. So she slathered up her front with sun protection, lay down, closed her eyes and breathed in the warm air. Some distant laughter and splashing and the hum of a boat out on the lake reached her ears. The sun warmed her face and relaxing heat seeped through her body. She sighed. Why had she not wanted to come up here again? She loved living in the city, loved restaurants and movies and concerts and shopping, hated leaving all that…but it was so nice here.
She might have dozed off a little, but awoke when a shadow covered her face. She cracked open one eye to see Tag sitting beside her on the blanket. “Hey,” she said. She tried to sit up, but gave up at the protest of her muscles and fell back down with a whimper. “You’re done golfing?”
“Yeah.”
“Who won?”
“Depends who you ask. Honestly, it was me. But it was close and I personally think all those other guys cheated.”
She laughed.
“Getting some sun, I see,” he said, and the husky tone of his voice prompted her to open her eyes again. He was wearing sunglasses, but she could feel his gaze on her, studying her from head to toe. Her nipples tingled and tightened in the thin cups of her suit and her stomach did a little flip.
“Yes. Actually, I could use some help putting sunscreen on my back.”
“I’m your man.”
She went to roll over but stopped with a groan. “Oh god.”
“What’s wrong? Are you sick again?”
“I was never sick,” she said crossly. “I just have a few sore muscles today.”
“From that little bit of skiing? Mac, honey, you clearly need to work out.”
“Thanks so much.”
“I don’t mean you look like you need to work out. You look…” He paused and cleared his throat. “You look freakin’ amazing. But don’t you go to a gym or something?”
“I haven’t for a while.” She pushed herself slowly over onto her stomach, painful knives stabbing into her muscles. “Too busy.”
“No wonder you’re so stressed. Exercise is the best way to deal with that.” A cold squirt of liquid landed on her back and she twitched. Then he started rubbing it in with slow, sensual strokes. “Seriously.”
“I know, but I’m busy. Some day I’ll have time for that.”
Some day. It seemed like a lot of her life was going to start “some day”―the day she made partner. Tag’s hands moved up and down her back, pressing into sore muscles.
“Oh my god,” she moaned.
“Feel good?”
“Mmmm.” He kneaded her sore shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the hollows beneath her shoulder blades, his palms sliding with firm pressure down the ridges of muscles along her spine. “You’re good at that.”
“I’ve had a few massages,” he said, sounding amused. “I may have picked up a few things.”
“Oh yeah.”
He kept massaging until she felt like she’d melted into a puddle of that sunscreen on the blanket.
“Where else is sore?”
“My…uh…thighs.”
“Oh yeah. Skiing’s hard on your abductors.”
“Whatever.”
His hands moved lower and began rubbing the backs of her legs, pushing her legs apart a little in a gesture
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