Moondance Beach

Duncan shook his head, smiling to himself. “I think this goes without saying, but physically, you have changed dramatically. I remembered you as this scrawny little thing, mousy, and kind of a nerd.”

  “No way!” She pretended to be shocked.

  “My point is you’re a woman now, all filled out and . . .” He stopped himself. “You’re smart and talented and you’ve made a wonderful life for yourself. I am happy for you, Lena. I’m blown away by what you’ve become.”

  She took a step closer to him, looked up, and took his hands in hers.

  “And what about you, Duncan? I am in awe of what you’ve done with your life—the dedication and discipline. We may not have kept in touch over the years, but I’ve always kept you in my thoughts and prayed that you were safe.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “And I am immensely grateful that you are still alive. I know the world has so much more in store for you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “So unless you have to be somewhere else right now . . .”

  “What are you . . . ?”

  Lena began wiggling and tugging on the hem of her sundress until the skirt was waaay up over her knees. “What do you say we work on our artistry?” Without warning, Lena jumped up. She threw her arms around Duncan’s neck and her legs around his waist.

  “Whoa! Hey!” He caught her under her bottom and staggered back a step or two, laughing the whole time. “Is this what it means to have a woman throw herself at you?”

  Lena’s face was so close to his that he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Slowly, teasingly, she dropped her half-smiling mouth to his. He welcomed her, pulled her closer. Instantly, it was there—the same power, the same drive and desire that had been present in the kitchen. But this time Lena had provided the spark. Lena was making it very clear that this was what she wanted.

  The kiss spiraled into something hot and needy, and Lena did not retreat from the demands he made. She opened for him. She kissed him back. She clutched him between her thighs. Lena brought her hands to either side of Duncan’s face and cradled him with tenderness, all while she devoured him.

  Eventually, Lena loosened her grip on his waist and began to slide down the front of his body. He let her go, not sure if it meant they were done or just beginning. When her toes touched the sand and she gazed up at him, he nearly exploded. There they were, the eyes from his dream—come back to me, lover; I want you here with me; I’m waiting . . .

  “I think I might need some help with my zipper,” she said. “Would you mind?” She turned slowly, lifted her hair from her neck, and waited.

  The fingers Duncan brought to that zipper were trembling with need—and uncertainty. What the hell am I doing? If he made love to Lena, it would only add another layer of messiness on top of an already complicated situation. As it was, Lena would be hurt when he shipped out, and they hadn’t made love. What would happen after she gave herself to him? How much more painful would his leaving be for her?

  He whispered in her ear, “Are you sure?” Lena nodded, so Duncan tugged on the zipper and watched the yellow cotton fabric part down the center of her straight, smooth back. Guided only by the moonlight, he traced his finger down her spine, watching her flesh react. She was thin, but not skinny. He could see the barest glimpse of muscle at her shoulders. He saw the swell of her ass just below the open zipper. No panties.

  No way was he getting out of this alive.

  “Lena—”

  “Very sure,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

  Duncan caressed her delicate shoulders and slowly pushed the thin dress straps down her upper arms, past her elbows, down her forearms and hands. Lena stepped out of the dress and remained facing away from him. She reached for her hair and let it sway loose down the middle of her back, a simple gesture packed with so much sensual energy that it made him weak in the knees.

  Lena was once again naked on Moondance Beach, but this time he hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon her. She was baring herself to him, giving herself to him.

  “I want you, Duncan.”

  Still facing away, Lena stepped backward and pressed her hot, bare flesh against the front of his clothed body, as if making the decision for him. Duncan had to admit that in Lena’s presence, he was no longer proficient in the practice of mind over matter. He seemed defenseless when it came to Adelena Silva.

  He brushed his fingertips down the sides of her neck and across her shoulders. He reached from behind to cup her breasts and heard his own sigh of pleasure—damn but she felt perfect. He traced the ridges of her ribs and covered her small, flat tummy with his hands. He stayed there, frozen, feeling her heat radiate into his skin, giving her one last chance to deny him.

  “End this now, Lena,” he said. “I’m a selfish bastard, and once I get my orders I’ll be leaving on the first thing smokin’ off this island. Tell me to stop.”

  Slowly—slowly and intentionally—she pushed against the front of his jeans and moved her bottom in a seductive rhythm. And with that, the pin was pulled.

  “All that matters is that right now you’re with me. And right now I don’t want you to stop.”

  He turned Lena around and held her hands in his. Yes. This was the image that had burned into his brain that night—the delicate and feminine, perfectly formed petite curves of a woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and the teasing shape of that neat triangle between her legs. She looked tiny and vulnerable, but he already knew the power she would soon wield over him.

  Lena’s fingers were at his shirt buttons. She was no-nonsense about it, but didn’t rush, her soft hands sliding hot over his chest, across his abs, down the length of his arms. She made small moaning sounds as she touched him, and he wondered if she was even aware she was doing it.

  She raised her eyes to him, and Duncan saw a look of awe on her face. “You are magnificent,” she said. “Perfect.”

  “Far from it, I’m afraid.”

  She shook her head. “Let me admire you, Duncan. Let me take joy in seeing you for the first time. You are more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

  Her fingers fluttered down the burn scars on his right side. “These are like waves on the ocean,” she said, not hesitating or pulling away. She made no other comments on his scars and did not ask any more questions. It was as if she was learning him, understanding him, and taking him in—flaws included. The idea of that caused his throat to narrow. The exchange was almost too deep, too intimate.

  She reached for his belt, and his brain snapped to attention. Without a wasted movement, she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned the waistband of his jeans, and opened the fly. Immediately, he felt the heat of her little hands pushing inside the waistband of his boxer briefs—and ripping everything down to his ankles.

  Lena raised those dark, seductive eyes to his cock, and it was on. She cradled his balls in one hand and wrapped the other as tightly around him as she could manage. Her touch was gentle but not ticklish. It was just like in the dream—the caress was clearly her gift to him. She was just as bent on giving as receiving.

  “You are magnificent—absolutely everywhere.”

  Duncan had to speak up before the lust fried his last functioning brain cell. “Lena, I don’t have a condom. I had no idea—”

  “Are you healthy?”

  “I’ve had every lab test known to modern medicine since the ambush. Absolutely.”

  “I’m healthy, too,” she said. “I haven’t been with a man in two years.”

  “Whaa—” As interesting as that statement had been, Duncan’s mind went blank the instant her mouth opened and the tip of his cock slipped inside. He lifted his chin to the sky and let out a groan of surprise and gratitude. The sensation was magical, beautiful, lusty . . . and he loved every second of it. Until he realized that Lena had to be on her knees in the sand.

  “You don’t have to—”

  She chuckled with her lips snug around him, and the vibration just about sent him shooting to the stars.


  She played with him using her tongue and lips and teeth.

  “Talk about an artiste,” he mumbled. She continued to bring him an insane amount of pleasure until he couldn’t take it anymore. He reached for her, pulled her up, and took her in his arms. His body knew how to embrace her, exactly how she would fit against him, and Duncan dove in. He needed her. He had to have her. He couldn’t wait another second.

  While they had been otherwise occupied, the tide had begun to move in. Water began to rise to Duncan’s ankles. With his mouth planted firmly on hers, Duncan followed his instincts. He carried his lady of the waves into the dark water, devouring her with his mouth, sensing her shape and weight in his arms. She was so light he could carry her forever.

  The water rose up to meet them, gentle waves lapping at their naked skin. Duncan realized it was inexplicably warm, as if the water had changed temperature just for them. Sure, he’d had his share of skinny-dipping sex over the years, but nothing had come anywhere close to the intensity of this moment. He had the distinct sensation that he was carrying Lena over a threshold.

  Suddenly, she slipped out of his grasp and disappeared. Duncan stood on the sandbar with his eyes focused on the surface of the dark water. Was she toying with him? She couldn’t possibly be in distress, could she? When Lena reappeared, she was nearly ten yards away.

  He laughed. “Is this a challenge? A contest?”

  Lena giggled and dove underwater again, her pointed toes disappearing without a splash in the roll of a gentle wave. Well, of course she was a good swimmer, Duncan reasoned. Any woman who swims in the Atlantic naked and alone in the middle of the night had to be comfortable with her skills.

  Duncan had a few skills of his own. He used his training to go still and wait until he could pinpoint her movement. In a perfect maneuver, he dived under and cut her off mid–dolphin kick, then pulled her up to the surface.

  “Hey!” she said, pushing water from her face. She began laughing.

  “I thought you wanted me to catch you,” he said, scooping her around the waist and pulling her to him. “So you’d better consider yourself caught.”

  Lena’s expression morphed from delight to desire as their bodies rose and fell with the rhythm of the sea. They didn’t speak for a few moments, but simply allowed the ocean to rock them, eye to eye, skin on skin.

  Without a word, Lena brought her open legs around Duncan’s waist. “Make love to me,” she whispered in his ear, dragging her lips down the side of his neck. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  * * *

  Lena surrendered to the things she had always loved most—the ocean and Duncan Flynn. He gave her more than just his body; he gave her his spirit, too. When he was inside her, rocking her, taking her in rhythm with the waves, Lena felt the whole world shift on its axis. She suddenly knew—she had not been a fool for waiting.

  Duncan Flynn was wild and greedy as he controlled her, moving her up and down on him, lowering her hair into the water as he deepened his thrust. When he kissed her, it bordered on rough, his lips and tongue and teeth consuming her. She felt it—it was just as much a release and a relief for him as it was for her.

  “Oh, God, Lena.” Duncan raised his face to the moon as he took her over and over again. From her own fog of bliss she saw the changes wash over his face. He was open. He was free. He had allowed himself to meld with her in the most ancient way possible.

  The sea supported them and caressed them. They became part of the sea as they became part of each other. And when Duncan cried out and emptied himself inside her, he joined with the salty, life-giving essence of the ocean. With Lena, he returned to his origins.

  They were happy and relaxed afterward, Duncan chasing her up the beach stairs and into the house. They shared a warm shower, raided the refrigerator, and eventually made it to her bed. Duncan made love to her through the night. She broke apart in his arms more times than she could count.

  At one point, just as she began to drift off for another few minutes of sleep, she swore she heard a familiar tune in Duncan’s deep whisper, asking her to come with him to the sea of love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Seventeen years ago . . .

  “Hey, kid.”

  Lena winced when Duncan’s hand tapped down on her head. She hated it every time he did that to her, which was often. These days, in the middle of Duncan’s senior year, it was the only way he acknowledged that Lena was alive and drawing oxygen. He never noticed her at school. But at the Safe Haven, he would pat her head if they passed in the downstairs hallway or sat near each other at meals, like this morning. And every time he patted her head, she felt a kindergartner, a trained seal, or a stray dog.

  Sometimes she thought it would be better if he didn’t see her at all, anywhere.

  Lena felt two sets of eyes on her. She knew without checking that her mother and Mona were studying her with sympathy, and even though she hadn’t had a single bite of cereal yet, she was ready to excuse herself from the table.

  But leaving wouldn’t be an option on that particular morning. Helium balloons were still tied to the dining room light sconces, and twisted crepe paper hung from the chandeliers. Frasier’s booming laugh echoed off the walls and Duncan was the man of the hour. Clearly, breakfast was on its way to being a continuance of last night’s big celebration.

  Two days ago, Duncan had been accepted to the U.S. Naval Academy. Half the island had been invited to the Safe Haven last night to share in the excitement. Everyone kept saying, “Oh, look! A local boy on his way to becoming a hero!”

  Yay.

  Since Duncan had been planning for this since he was twelve, Lena had long ago checked the map to see how far Annapolis, Maryland, was from Bayberry Island, Massachusetts. The news wasn’t good. To travel by car and car ferry it was four hundred ninety-one miles. On a boat it would be three hundred eighty-seven nautical miles from the entrance of the Chesapeake Bay to the public dock at Bayberry Island.

  By land or sea, it sucked.

  “Hey, Lena, could you pass the orange juice?” Duncan reached across the table and held out his hand. He barely looked her in the eye.

  “Sure.”

  Duncan’s fingers accidentally brushed against hers during the transfer, and Lena stifled a gasp. She kept her head down, shoveled in her Grape-Nuts, and pretended not to listen to the breakfast-table conversation.

  “By God, I knew you’d do it, son.”

  “Thanks, Da.”

  Frasier raised his coffee cup. “This will be the first time in the history of the Flynns that a man will take to the sea for something other than catching fish!” Frasier laughed at his own joke. No one else did, probably because they’d heard it at least five times the night before.

  “When’s your orientation?” Clancy asked his brother.

  “Plebe Summer starts in July.”

  “Wait. You have to waste all of next summer just to get oriented?”

  Duncan shook his head. “The Navy isn’t for slackers, little brother. From here on out, it’s serious business.”

  Duncan’s voice was so deep now. He had changed so much in the last three years. In fact, the whole world had changed in the last three years—since the day he had kissed her.

  Duncan was a foot taller now, and one hundred ninety-two pounds. She knew because he talked about it all the time. His personal best for a bench press was two hundred thirty-two pounds. His fastest individual time for a 5K Postal distance swimming event was one hour, four minutes, and fifty-two seconds. His grade point average going into his senior year was a 3.95. He’d been free of bronchitis for five years and nine months, and though he had extra tests done on his lungs because of childhood asthma, he had cleared the Navy’s medical assessment with flying colors.

  Of course Duncan Flynn had made it into the Naval Academy. He had worked hard for it and deserved it.

  Lena caught Rowan smiling at her, and she smiled back.

  “How are you doing, Lena?”

>   “Good. Good. You?”

  That was pretty much how their conversations went.

  Lena would sneak a peek at Duncan every once in a while. In the morning sun he looked like a superhero, all golden and muscly. He spent a lot of time keeping his thick, black hair perfect. His teeth were that way naturally. She knew she would never—ever—know anyone like him.

  But oh, God. This last summer had been the worst of Lena’s life. Not only had Duncan forgotten about their kiss, but he’d forgotten their friendship. It was the way the high school food chain worked, she supposed. Duncan was the big shark on campus, while Lena was a pitiful hermit crab swept in by the tide. She’d watched Duncan spend the summer as a lifeguard on Safe Haven Beach, and that meant that from June to August, all the tourist girls made complete fools of themselves in an effort to attract his attention. The prettiest ones got what they wanted.

  Lena read a lot of books over the summer. She taught a children’s art class down at the tourist center and started a series of watercolors. Annie Parker’s parents said she had talent and bought one of her paintings for fifty dollars! Lena started her college fund with it. The highlight of her summer was that she got her braces off.

  “Lena, can you pass the butter?”

  Her entire body buzzed with nervousness. Duncan had spoken to her for the second time in a single morning, which was unprecedented! She raised her eyes from her Grape-Nuts, and it happened—he looked at her. He really, really looked at Lena. His eyes were open and focused. It was just a flash, and he looked away almost immediately, but Lena swore he was trying to tell her something.

  Like that would ever happen.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was coming out of her room, not paying close attention to what she was doing. She walked right into a wall.

  A wall of Duncan.

  “Hey, kid,” he said again.

  “Whaaa—” Lena’s brain scrambled. Why was he at her end of the third-floor hallway? What was he doing? She took a step back, thinking maybe he was trying to get by.

  “I wanted to say thanks.”