perverse asshole. He loves Samantha, he’s just too stupid to admit it.”
Marc smiled at her assessment. “Did he ever touch you, before they were married?”
Taking a deep breath, she stared out at the crashing waves, trying to channel the strength of the Pacific. “He was like a brother to me, at first. I was a tomboy, more interested in sports than dating, and he’s very athletic. We would pal around together. It was harmless.”
“Until when?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Until I got breasts, okay? The same ones you’re always staring at. He would…tickle me and stuff. I finally figured out he was trying to cop a feel.”
“Is that all he did?” he asked in a low voice, although it appeared to be enough information for him to want to smash Greg’s face in.
“He grabbed me once, at the wedding reception. I struggled to get away from him, and he finally let go. After that, I made sure never to be alone with him again, or get close enough for him to touch.”
“Did you tell Samantha?”
“No. She was pregnant. They were young. I hoped they could work things out.”
Instead of criticizing her naivete, as she expected, he remained silent. It didn’t matter, because she already blamed herself. Maybe if she’d been honest with Samantha from the beginning, her marriage could have ended more peacefully.
And maybe if Sidney weren’t so gullible, she wouldn’t have let her sister slip away this afternoon at the convenience store.
Disheartened and depressed, she lay on her stomach again. Emotionally drained from the day’s events, she let the rhythmic pounding of the waves breaking along the shore lull her into a troubled sleep.
Chapter 15
She awoke to the delicious sensation of Marc massaging sun-screen into her shoulders. All but purring her enjoyment, she arched her spine and stretched like a cat.
“I didn’t want you to burn,” he said, apologizing for waking her.
“Mmm,” was the only response she could muster. The sun was hot on her back, the breeze cool against her skin, and his masterful hands on her tense muscles…they were magnificent.
When he smoothed lotion down her arms, his fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts, and her lassitude morphed into sexual awareness. Then his hands were on her legs, caressing the sensitive skin behind her knees, stroking his way up the backs of her thighs.
By the time he reached her bottom, her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples were tight and a sweet, hot ache pulsed between her legs.
When his fingertips slid up and down the length of her spine, she closed her eyes, murmuring her pleasure. When they dipped below the waistband of her swimsuit to trace the crease of her buttocks, her eyes flew open.
“I don’t think I’m going to get burned there,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. Unless he didn’t stop, and then she would surely burst into flames.
His eyes traveled up to her face, then looked out at their surroundings. Over the crash of the waves, she could hear children playing. He jerked his hand out of her bikini bottoms, seeming to realize what he was doing, and where. “Sorry,” he muttered, rolling onto his stomach in an obvious attempt to hide his arousal.
The incongruity of his behavior baffled her. Last night, he’d brought her to orgasm with his mouth on the hood of her truck. Afterward, he’d pushed her legs apart and thrust inside her with so little forethought he hadn’t remembered to use a condom. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, he’d rather go unsatisfied than slake his lust in her again.
She inhaled sharply, feeling her throat close up and her chest grow tight with pain. Before she could make a bigger fool of herself by crying in front of him, she leaped to her feet and ran into the surf, letting the cold shock of the Pacific wash away her shame.
She didn’t know he’d followed her until she felt his hand clamp around her arm. With wild abandon, she wrenched away from him, falling headfirst into the waves and getting a mouthful of saltwater for her efforts. As he pulled her to her feet, she gasped and sputtered, pummeling his chest with her fists and making raw, animal sounds in the back of her throat.
“Stop,” he said, holding her by the forearms, his body flush against hers. “Stop,” he repeated, holding firm when she continued to struggle.
With no way to escape his embrace, or the deluge of emotions that assaulted her, she tucked her head into his chest and sobbed her frustration. In the periphery of her awareness, she felt his body tense. After a moment, he relaxed his grip on her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her gently while she cried.
In slow measures, she began to calm, aware of her hot, wet face against his chest, her labored breathing and the pounding of her own heartbeat. The waves crashed into them, breaking at hip level then receding, lapping around their knees.
Knowing she was unattractively teary-eyed and runny-nosed, she turned away from him, cupping handfuls of saltwater to wash her face. He watched with a mixture of humor and concern in his eyes, as if he found her lack of dignity amusing.
No wonder he didn’t want to go to bed with her-she was an absolute mess.
“Lacy put a ‘be on the lookout’ for your sister’s SUV. We’ll find her.”
Rather than admit she hadn’t spared a single thought for Samantha since awakening, she sank deeper into the water with a low groan, ducking her head under the curl and swimming away from him.
He caught up with her easily. “That’s not why you were crying?”
“Why don’t you want me anymore?” she asked, deciding to make her humiliation complete.
His eyes widened. “Not want you? Are you crazy?”
“Probably,” she murmured. “This morning, you didn’t…”
It took him a moment to get her meaning. “You said I hurt you.”
She frowned at him in confusion. “You thought I meant physically?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you haven’t touched me?”
“Of course. You were acting sore. Uncomfortable. I asked if I hurt you, and you said yes. What was I supposed to do, throw you down on your back like an animal again?”
When she thought about the pain relievers and the tea, the breakfast in bed and the cold pack she’d put on her forehead, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Once she got started, she couldn’t stop. Holding her midsection, she doubled over with giggles, only to get knocked off balance by the incoming waves. She fell unceremoniously on her bottom in the shallow water, laughing harder.
He crossed his arms over his chest, finding no humor in the circumstances.
“You didn’t hurt me, Marc,” she said when she’d collected herself, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s not like I was a virgin.”
“You felt like one.”
Her amusement wilted. “Oh,” she said in a small voice, letting him help her up. “What did I do wrong?”
“What did you do wrong?” he repeated, as if the question were beyond his realm of comprehension. With a harsh laugh, he pulled her close, turning his back to the shore. “You were too hot,” he said, touching his lips to her collarbone. “Too tight,” he added, sliding his hands down her lower back, “and too wet,” he finished, cupping her buttocks.
“I’ll have to work on that,” she breathed, curling her fingers through the hair at his nape.
“I’ll help you,” he replied, covering her mouth with his. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, expertly, more to soothe than inflame her desire. Even so, she found herself moaning and rubbing her naked belly against his.
A wave hit her backside, cooling her off right where it counted. She laughed softly, putting her face against his
