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"You're evil."
"I know." I slide my hand over her ass. Fuck, this was an amazing idea. She looks good enough to eat. My head already feels clear. Last night—well, the first half—already feels like a bad dream. "I'll make it up to you."
"Oh." She arches her back, pressing her ass against my crotch. "Carry on."
"What are we doing again?"
"What does anyone do at eight a.m.?"
I laugh. We're way past eight a.m. Iris didn't want to get out of bed and… well, I didn't either. "Drink coffee."
"Hmm. This is sounding reasonable."
"No more coffee until you catch three waves."
"Three? Three?"
I nod. Three.
She shakes her head. "I'll never have coffee again."
I nod to the board. "On your stomach."
"Yes, sir." She winks as she drops to her hands and knees on the surfboard. Slowly, she lowers herself onto her stomach.
It's a rental, one of those obnoxious ones covered in foam—my board is way too long for her.
I drop to the sand next to her. It's already warm. Comforting. Like a hug from an old friend.
She turns her head to her side to look me in the eyes. "I could get used to this."
"You'll be begging for more soon."
"Hmm." She lets out a wistful yes, once we get home sigh.
I laugh. "You do push-ups?"
"Why would I do push-ups?"
"To improve your surfing game."
"I've done a push-up."
"When?"
"No comment."
My smile spreads over my cheeks. "This is easy—"
"I bet it's not."
"Simple. It's like a push-up, but you jump to your feet at the same time." I put my hands in position and demonstrate a pop-up. I push myself up as I jump to my side. "Land with your knees bent." I lean into the position, modeling catching my balance.
"That's easy?"
I nod.
"You need to work on your definition."
