Okay Tia. You’re on a motorcycle club compound. Not a resort. But the ocean is right there and if I don’t get some sun on my skin I might actually start climbing the walls like a derangedhouseplant myself. Besides, Vitamin D is good for you. So is another type of D. Oh my god… stop thinking that way right now Miss Tia.
I pull a loose sundress over the bikini. The thin cotton brushes my thighs as I sneak out of the room. My ankle still throbs a little but it’s nothing I can’t ignore. I lose the bandage and head out. A couple of men nod at me as I pass. Their eyes linger but no one stops me. I offer a small wave and a nervous smile that probably looks more like a grimace.
The back door of the clubhouse opens to a path that winds toward the water. The air grows saltier with every step. Palm fronds rustle overhead. Their shadows dance across the sandy dirt. I kick off my flip flops when the path turns to pure sand. The grains feel warm and soft between my toes. They shift and slide as I walk. The private beach stretches out in front of me. Turquoise water sparkles under the bright Key West sun. Waves lap gently against the shore with a rhythmic hush that soothes the anxious knot in my chest.
I drop my sundress onto a patch of sand and stretch my arms toward the sky. The sun kisses my skin warm and golden. A soft breeze carries the clean scent of ocean and distant mangrove. My hair lifts and tangles around my face. I feel lighter already. Freer. Like the water might wash away some of the fear that’s been clinging to me since Dad showed up.
This is nice. Very normal. Just a girl in a bikini on a private beach owned by scary bikers. What could possibly go wrong?
The sand warms the soles of my feet as I walk closer to the water. Tiny shells crunch under my steps. A seagull cries overhead. Its wings flash white against the blue sky. I reach the edge where the waves foam soft and cool. Saltwater swirls around my toes. Thecold bite makes me giggle. I wiggle my feet deeper into the wet sand. It squishes between my toes in the most satisfying way.
A deep voice cuts through the peaceful sounds behind me. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”
I spin around so fast I almost lose my balance. Kraken stands there like he appeared out of thin air. Jeans hug his powerful thighs. A black t-shirt stretches tight across his broad chest. The club vest sits over it all. His arms are crossed. The muscles in his forearms flex as he stares at me. He looks every inch the dangerous king of this island.
I blink up at him. My mouth goes a little dry. “I’m soaking up some sun. Duh. Have you seen this beach? It’s basically calling my name. Tia come be a normal human for five minutes and let the ocean fix your anxiety.”
His jaw tightens. Those storm gray eyes drag down my body slowly. Over the red bikini. Over my bare legs. Back up again. Heat crawls up my neck and settles in my cheeks. I fight the urge to cover myself. Instead I plant my hands on my hips and tilt my head.
“It’s really hot out here. You should put on some swim trunks and join me. The water feels amazing. I promise not to splash you too much.”
He doesn’t smile. Not even a little. “No thanks. I’m your bodyguard. Not your beach buddy.”
The words should sound cold. Instead they send a little thrill through me.Bodyguard.The way he says it makes it sound possessive. Like he’s already decided exactly where I belong. I bite my lip and turn back toward the water before he sees how much I like that idea.
Do not stare at the scary hot biker, Tia. He’s off limits. Completely. Totally. Even if he looks like he was carved from pure sin and bad decisions.
I wade a little deeper. Cool water laps around my calves. The waves tug gently at my skin. I glance back over my shoulder. Kraken still stands there. Tall and imposing against the sand. Then he moves. His hands go to the vest first. He shrugs it off with a smooth motion and drapes it over a piece of driftwood. The t-shirt comes next. He pulls it over his head in one fluid tug.
My brain short circuits.
Holy mother of glorious muscles.
His chest and shoulders stretch wide and powerful. Black ink covers so much of his skin I can’t even process all the designs at once. Tribal patterns twist across one shoulder and down his arm. A fierce kraken wraps around his ribs with tentacles that look ready to drag ships under. Scars mark his body like violent stories. My mouth falls open a little. I’ve never seen anything so raw and beautiful and dangerous all at once.
Wow. Just... wow. That isn’t a man. That’s a weapon wrapped in skin. And I shouldn’t be looking. I really shouldn’t be looking. He’d never go for a girl like me anyway. I’m the one who apologizes to furniture and names her houseplants after boy bands. He probably dates women who can ride motorcycles and throw knives and look sexy doing it.
I force my eyes back to the water. My heart races fast. The sun feels hotter on my skin now. I dip lower and let the waves swirl around my thighs. The cool water does nothing to calm the heat building inside me. I sneak another glance. Kraken stands barefoot in just his jeans. The denim rides low on his hips. ThoseV lines disappear beneath the waistband and my imagination fills in the rest with very unhelpful details.
He crosses his arms again. The movement makes all those muscles shift and flex under the ink. I swallow hard. My thoughts tumble wild and flirty despite every warning bell in my head.
Don’t think about running your hands over those tattoos, Tia. Donotimagine what it would feel like to trace every line with your fingers. Or your tongue. Nope. Off limits. Danger zone. He’s your bodyguard. Not your extremely hot beach fantasy.
I turn back to the ocean and splash a little water on my arms. The droplets sparkle in the sunlight. A wave comes in stronger and soaks me up to my waist. I squeak and jump back. Laughter bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
Kraken’s voice carries over the waves. Rough like sandpaper. “You’re going to get yourself swept out if you’re not careful.”
I glance back again. He’s moved closer to the water line. His bare feet sink into the wet sand. The sun beats down on his shoulders and highlights every ridge of muscle. My stomach flips in the most embarrassing way.
I'm being very careful. See?" I wiggle in the shallow water. "The ocean is basically medicine. You could come closer and supervise properly. Bodyguard duties and all that."
He doesn't answer. But he takes one step toward the waterline.
I don't think. I just turn and wade back toward shore, and when I reach the spot where the sand goes from dark to dry I stop right in front of him, close enough that a wave washing in swirls cold around both our feet. His jaw tightens. I reach out andtouch his arm—just my fingers against his forearm, light, like I'm steadying myself—and I feel the muscle go absolutely rigid under my hand.
I look up at him.
He's looking at my hand.
