We take his car to the beach. Not many people go to the beach on a Monday, so it’s not hard to find parking.
When we reach the sand, I pull the bottle of sunscreen out of my tote bag and offer it to him.
“No thanks,” he says as he pulls his shirt off. “I don’t burn.”
His skin is a nice golden tan, but I’ve seen darker men get sunburned. I raise an eyebrow.
“I’ll be fine,” he assures me.
I squeeze a large amount of sunscreen into my hand, then slap it onto his chest. He looks down at his chest, then up at me, his eyes narrowed.
“Now you’ll be fine.” I begin rubbing the lotion into his chest and over his shoulders. His skin is warm beneath my hands. He sucks in a breath, his eyes fixed on me. I smile at him, then return my attention to my hands as I work the sunscreen down his arms.
“Wow,” I say, feeling his muscles. “Do you work out or do you get these from operating on animals?”
“It’s all the water aerobics I do,” he says with a smirk.
I make him turn around so that I can get his back. When I’m done, he grabs the bottle of sunscreen. I watch him, wondering what he’s going to do with it.
“Shirt on or off?” he asks me.
“Huh?”
He motions to my shirt. “It’s your turn. I wouldn’t want you looking like a strawberry on national television.”
I smile and pull my shirt over my head. I toss it onto the sand next to his. When I look back up at him, his cheeks are pink. He clears his throat and glances away from me.
“Well?” I prompt him.
He angles his head back to me, a smile teasing the corner of his lips. I can’t help but laugh at how cute he is when he’s flustered.
He squeezes a small amount of sunscreen into his hand and begins to rub it into my shoulders, spreading it down to my arms. When he finishes with my arms, he squeezes out another handful of sunscreen, then looks down at my waist. His eyes raise up to meet mine.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks.
It might scare him off if he knew how badly I want his hands on me. I nod, somehow managing to keep my cool. “Go ahead.”
His hands close over my ribcage first, and then he works the lotion down my abdomen and over my hips. A wave of goosebumps washes over me. My belly tightens and I hold my breath. With him standing this close to me and touching me like this, I begin to wish we hadn’t left my apartment. I know that I won’t be able to resist doing something inappropriate at the beach if he keeps it up, so I help myself to the sunscreen and begin applying it to my chest while he moves on to my back.
“I can’t believe you’re finally at the beach after six whole months of living here,” I tell him. His hands stroke my back, and I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the salty ocean air.
“Me neither.”
When he finishes with my back, I turn around to face him. “Are you one of those people who likes to swim all the way out past the waves, or are you afraid of sharks?”
He raises an eyebrow, and I realize how stupid my question is.
“Wow,” I say. “I’m an idiot. I just asked an aquarium vet if he’s afraid of sharks.”
He laughs. “Hey, it’s not that bad. I think everyone should have a healthy fear of any wild animal. I mean, just because you report the weather doesn’t mean you’re going to run outside waving a sheet of tin foil during a thunderstorm.”
“Oh no. You know that aluminum doesn’t attract lightning, right?”
He frowns. “It doesn’t?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Damn. Everything I’ve been taught about lightning as a kid is a lie.”
