Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
When they reach the break, I keep an eye on the big waves while monitoring the skipper’s maneuvers, but he knows what he’s doing. He rides the surf like an expert and steers the boat smoothly onto the sand.
I’m there in a few long strides, offering Sabella a hand. She grips my fingers and hops over the side, landing on her feet. To prevent her from losing her balance, I fasten my hands around her waist. She turns and gives a little wave to the skipper who salutes her before jumping out and pushing the boat back into the sea. I give him a hand, holding onto the rope until the boat is afloat. He climbs back in, starts the engine, and drives the boat head-on into the waves until he’s on the open sea again.
I turn toward my wife. She pulled off the wetsuit and dumped it in the bag I brought from the house. She stands there clad in that red bikini against the backdrop of the dunes and the white sand, soaked with salty water and wearing an expression of exhilaration on her face.
She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. “It was kind of them to drop me off here and save you the trip to Mossel Bay.”
“I would’ve driven to the North Pole for you.”
She tilts her head. “No.”
It takes everything I’ve got and then some not to pounce on her. “No?”
“You would’ve just flown there in that helicopter.”
“Different logistics. Same thing.”
“Admit it.” She props her hands on her hips. “The helicopter was an overkill.”
“Nothing is an overkill where your safety is concerned.”
“Overprotective much?” she asks with an arch of a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “The island is already surrounded by an army and cut off from the mainland.”
“Which is the only reason I’m allowing you to be on this beach alone.”
“I’m not alone.” Her tone is playful. “You’re here.”
I motion with my head toward the ocean where the Zodiac is no longer visible. “How did it go?”
Her eyes sparkle.
Walking slowly toward her, I say, “You saw it.”
“Not it.” Her lips stretch into a grin, exposing her straight, white teeth. “Them.”
The thought alone fucks with my head. The mental image of my small, delicate wife swimming around a five-meter great white shark is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. But more than one? That fucking tests the limits of my tolerance.
I narrow my eyes. “How many?”
“Three.” She steps up and goes on tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck. “Oh, Angelo. It was amazing. The crew was so nice to me. They even let me film a part of it. The camera man got great footage of us nose to nose with one of the sharks.”
That does it. I’m going to forbid her to ever do shark diving again.
“Can you believe it?” She presses our chests together, rubbing up against me and soaking my shirt. “I’m going to be on Shark Week.”
When she smacks her lips on mine, the rebuke dies on the tip of my tongue. She tastes like salt and freedom. She smells like coconut suntan lotion and woman. A beautiful, strong, perfect woman. My woman.
Parting her lips with my tongue, I steal inside her mouth. She tips her face up and kisses me back. Her sunglasses slip down the back of her head and fall on the sand, but we barely notice. Hungry for more, I cup her ass and yank her against me, letting her feel the hardness between my legs. What she does to me.
She rips at my shirt, making buttons fly. I let her go to strip the wet fabric from my body. By the time my arms are free, she’s already unbuckling my belt. I’m shoving the pants with my underwear over my hips when she goes down on her knees.
Goddamn. We’re out in the open in broad daylight. It’s a private beach, but that doesn’t stop people from crossing the river. Anyone could see us. I should stop her, but her mouth on my cock makes me lose my fucking mind.
We’re wild when go down onto the sand. She pulls my pants free and pushes me down in the shallow water. I’m groping for the string of her top at her back, needing to get those tiny triangles that tease me with the roundness of her curves peeking around the sides off her. Straddling me, she unties the string in her nape and throws the top onto the sand. Her breasts are firm and her pretty apricot-colored nipples contracted into hard little points. I fill my palms with those perfect tits, kneading her flesh between my fingers while she unfastens the strings on the sides of her bikini bottom. When the fabric falls away, I fix my gaze on her pussy, drinking in the irresistible sight.