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Blaze
Blaze squinted behind his aviator sunglasses. The sun was out in full force today already, beaming enthusiastically down over Paradise Cove. It was a bright and beautiful Saturday in June, and the weather was perfect. The sky overhead stretched on and on in endless sapphire blue. Only the occasional fluffy white cloud dotted the skies, never eclipsing the sunshine for even a second. The heat was intense, but the humidity was surprisingly low considering how close they were to the Pacific Ocean. But instead of a wet, balmy breeze, Blaze inhaled a deep breath of dry, salty air. Even though the temperature was soaring into the nineties, there was only the faintest sheen of sweat forming on his skin. He brushed his long black hair back out of his face and smiled into the soft wind.
Paradise Cove was an iconic spot in the Los Angeles area, located just northwest of the city in Malibu. It was a perennial mainstay of LA life, with a legendary twist. It was also the setting for many film and television scenes throughout time. The Cove was no regular public beach. It was glorious to behold. The sandy shore ran alongside the turquoise water until it met a gigantic, almost sheer rock cliff. Green brush and trees covered the cliff like moss. The waves crashed in towers of blue capped with white froth as the ocean beat endlessly against the rocks. In the other direction, you could follow the shallows to a long wooden pier, on which several people were fishing or gazing out over the ocean with a pair of binoculars. Sea birds flew in vee-shaped formations low over the beach in search of dropped morsels to scavenge. Occasionally, you could catch a glimpse of a glistening fin churning out of the waves. There were dolphins, sea lions, even whales to be admired from afar. In this beautiful nook of Malibu, it was easy enough to picture oneself on a movie set; everything looked so picturesque.
The beach here had public access, despite being located in front of a slew of touristy, expensive cafes and shops. On a gorgeous summer Saturday like this, Paradise Cove would soon be packed with locals and tourists alike. Already, the area was populating with the usual suspects. No matter which direction he looked, Blaze could see beautiful people doing beautiful things in the sun. Gaggles of bikini-clad women stretched out on long towels, their perky butts turned up to face the sun. Young couples slathered suntan lotion on one another or chased each other into the choppy shallows, laughing playfully. A family of four sprawled out under a gigantic umbrella, the dad building a sandcastle with his young son while the mother played peekaboo with a chubby baby in a one-piece bathing suit.
Right now, it was early enough in the morning that there were still a few patches of sandy shore available to set up camp on for a few hours. Blaze adjusted his grip on the towels folded over his shoulder. He glanced back at Asher, who was busily unloading more items from the trunk of his Cadillac. Blaze had rumbled up to the beach on his motorcycle, as usual, bringing nothing but himself and a couple of towels. Asher was the prepared one, with a car full of every object they could possibly need at the beach. He took a surfboard down from the roof, then pulled out a cooler and a rolled-up gigantic beach umbrella, followed by a tote bag filled with smaller things.
“Your trunk reminds me of my mom’s purse,” Blaze remarked.
Asher looked up over the trunk door, frowning at him. “I truly don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” he said.
“I think it’s one of those rare occasions when it’s both,” Blaze replied.
“Well, then, thank you and screw you at the same time,” Asher answered without missing a beat. Blaze laughed good-naturedly.
“Probably a good thing you over-packed, actually. I’m sure the diva will appreciate having all the comforts of home,” he said.
At just that moment, a fancy cab pulled up to the parking lot right behind Asher’s Cadillac. The car rolled to a stop and both men turned to face it, wondering who waited behind the tinted windows. The back door slowly opened up and out stepped the long, toned legs of Giselle Kingston.
It was almost unusual to see her bare, smooth calves instead of the ripped fishnet stockings she often wore. In place of her usual black platform shoes were a pair of beachy wedges, which gave her a couple of inches of height. Blaze’s dark eyes hungrily followed the shape of her legs up to her thighs. She was wearing a floaty black cover-up dress that fell to the middle of her thighs at the bottom and had a delicious deep scoop neck at the top. Blaze licked his lips, unable to control himself as his gaze locked on the deep crease of cleavage between her bouncy breasts. Her pretty face was partially obscured by a pair of gigantic dark sunglasses, and a floppy black sun hat cast a shadow over her body. Her glossy black hair was plaited into two perfect, symmetrical braids, which rested enticingly at the swell of her tits.
He saw the black spaghetti straps of her bathing suit peeking out on her shoulders, and it made him even more desperate to see what she was wearing underneath. As revealing as the black sundress was, Blaze was ravenous for more. He craved the sight of her bare skin like a starving dog at the back door of a restaurant. He could hardly remind himself to blink; he was so entranced by her beauty. He tore his eyes away just to glance at Asher and saw that the blond songwriter was just as stunned as he was. Asher was frozen in place, his hand hovering over the handle of the cooler while he gawked at the pale ice princess newly arrived at the beach. She leaned back inside the cab to hand the driver a suspiciously large wad of cash, then waved goodbye as the taxi rolled away.
“Holy shit,” Asher murmured.
“She’s here,” Blaze breathed.
A sexy smile spread across her face as she flounced up to them, a towel tucked under her arm. The sun seemed to favor her above all others, illuminating her with such an unearthly golden glow she seemed to shine from within. And yet, she was still so pale. Her skin looked especially milky-white compared to the brassy suntans of the beachgoers all around them.
“Hey boys. You ready to find some inspiration?” she greeted them cheerily.
“Always,” Asher said emphatically. He held up the tote bag and gestured to the notebook and pens rattling around with the other, more traditional beach accoutrements.
“I bet you took killer notes in school,” Blaze commented.
“And I bet you would’ve copied off his test,” Giselle teased Blaze.
“And you would’ve been, I don’t know, skipping class to play ding-dong-ditch or something,” he tossed back playfully.
She giggled. “Honestly, you’re not that far off. So, how does this work?”
Asher stepped in. “I have everything we could need. Towels, an umbrella, drinks, snacks, a radio, some first-aid gear, a ton of sunscreen.”
“And we just… lie in the sand and wait for some cool lyrics to pop into our heads?” Giselle questioned, already looking a little hesitant about getting all sandy.
But Asher was endlessly patient. “Or whatever else occurs to us. The main thing to remember is not to force it. Inspiration will come if you just quiet your mind and start listening to the world around you.”
“Are you capable of that?” Blaze asked Giselle as they started making their way toward the sandy beach.
She frowned. “Capable of what?”
“Being quiet,” he joked.
Giselle rolled her eyes, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. “God, you’re so annoying. And you’re one to talk. How am I supposed to listen to the world around me when this schmuck won’t shut up for a second?” she teased back.
“Fantastic weather, though,” Asher said, eternally unbothered. “Looks like there’s a good spot opened up between those groups. We can set up shop right there.”
