Shore to Please Page 18

  Chapter 21

  The next morning, as Tara stood in her kitchen cracking eggs into a bowl, a pair of warm, muscular arms enveloped her. She leaned back into Flipper’s body and felt the unmistakable evidence of his desire. When she turned to curl her arm around his neck, she was surprised—and thrilled—to discover he stood there stark naked. Steven had never done anything so impulsive; their lovemaking had been as predictable as sunrise and sunset. And then they’d stopped having sex.

  “How about taking a break from what you’re doing there?” Flipper whispered in her ear, his husky voice causing her lady parts to tingle.

  “But I’m right in the middle of making breakfast,” she protested without conviction.

  Her mother had taught her never to act too eager when a man, even a husband, made advances, that putting up even a token resistance was a sign of good breeding. Tara knew such thinking was hopelessly sexist and outdated, and she’d shattered that mindset by initiating sex the night before. Still, she hadn’t managed to completely break free from her mother’s etiquette expectations.

  “So put everything back in the fridge and we’ll cook it together when we’re done. Don’t you owe yourself some fun?”

  Tara stiffened. “Is that all this is to you, a convenient opportunity for a randy romp?”

  Flipper pulled back and frowned. She could see the insult in his eyes and could’ve kicked herself for jumping to such a conclusion.

  “Honey, you know you mean much more to me than that. How about doing us both a favor by going with the flow? Look how great it turned out when you did it last night.”

  She knew her remark merited worse than his gentle chiding and was relieved he let it go so easily. Tara flashed him a saucy smile. And then she filled both hands with his firm backside and squeezed. When he rocked his pelvis against hers, a shudder rolled through her body.

  “Don’t let it go to your head, Studly Do-Right, but that was the best sex of my life.”

  “Is that so? Well, you’ve set the bar plenty high, but I’ll do my best to exceed it this time. You game?”

  Tara tucked one hand between them and let her fingers dance along his hard length, enjoying the way it jerked and pulsed beneath her touch.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  With a growl, he pulled her even closer and devoured her mouth. She let out a little whimper when he broke off the kiss and set her apart from him, but then he whipped her camisole over her head and attacked her breasts with the same enthusiasm. She heard only white noise as the blood rushed in her ears, and she nearly climaxed despite his hands never venturing below her waist.

  Just when she was about to demand that he strip off her boxers and panties, too, he snatched a towel from the counter and led her over to her dinette set. Tara stifled her objections when he spread one of her best dish-drying cloths on a chair and settled on top of it. As he rolled on the condom he’d left on the table, Tara unconsciously licked her lips. He gave her a slight tug forward and made short work of the rest of her clothes.

  She sank down onto his lap and melted into him as their tongues and lips mated. Flipper seemed content to enjoy their foreplay for far longer than she would’ve expected. If he wasn’t in a rush, neither was she. Tara marveled at his intense concentration on her satisfaction. She’d never had such an attentive lover, although anything would’ve been an improvement over her previous partners.

  Before Steven, she’d been with only two other men, one of those a college boyfriend who, after months of pursuing her, had dropped her like a sprig of poison ivy once she’d let him take her virginity. Flipper might not realize it yet, but he was on the cusp of unleashing her inner sex goddess.

  Tara moaned as he licked his way over to her earlobe.

  “Let’s try something a little different this time, a position called the sit and spin,” he said. “I think you’ll really get off on it.”

  “O-okay, what do I do?”

  “Lift up a little and take me inside you. And then slowly turn until you’re facing in the other direction, with your back to me. You’ll still be on top so you’ll have control. But I can easily reach around to your front and double your enjoyment.”

  A thrill raced through Tara as she did what he suggested. She felt empowered, impulsive, alive, especially when one of his hands tweaked her nipples while the other delved between her legs. And then she and Flipper began to move in tandem. Before long, she was bouncing with such vigor she had a fleeting worry she might hurt him. But he urged her on by grasping her hips and thrusting with even more enthusiasm, and she saw stars and bursts of light behind her closed eyelids.

  “Oh my God,” she shrieked, and at first she didn’t recognize her own voice. Her climax surged through her with such force that tears rolled down her cheeks, and then Flipper used his fingers to prolong her pleasure even as he found his own happy ending.

  Spent, she collapsed back against him, and he wrapped her in an embrace that left her feeling cherished and protected.

  “I’m head-over-heels crazy about you, Tara Louise Langley,” he murmured.

  “That’s good, because I feel the same about you, Paul Aidan O’Riley.”

  He chuckled. “How’d you know my middle name?”

  “I Googled you. How did you find out mine?”

  “Same way. I realized I don’t know as much about you as I should.”

  “All you had to do was ask,” she replied.

  “Same goes.”

  “Point taken.”

  Flipper laughed again. “This is hardly the direction I expected this conversation to take, especially after we just confessed our feelings for each other.”

  Tara turned her head and planted gentle kisses along his jawline.

  “It’s obvious I need to work on my romantic banter. I’ll do better next time.”

  “I wasn’t criticizing,” he assured her. “And I’m not such a sweet talker myself. I prefer to let my actions speak for me. Kind of like this.” He palmed her breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I just had you and I want you again already. How about we hop in the shower and work up a lather?”

  “Only if you promise me a custom hand wash.” Yet again Tara shocked herself, but she rather liked her newly awakened provocative side.

  Flipper’s hand wandered down to the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs, and it flared to life again at his touch.

  “I promise to give you the most thorough detailing you’ve ever experienced,” he replied. “And I’ll even throw in a lube job for no extra charge.”

  *

  Lust obscured Flipper’s vision as he watched water cascade down Tara’s luscious body. Nothing dampened his desire for her and, as he worked his soapy hands into suds, he wasn’t sure how he’d drag himself from her side and return to Gulf Shore. He’d drawn the early shift the next morning, which meant stumbling into the aquarium by five o’clock. He loved being a dolphin trainer, but he could do without being rousted from sleep before dawn.

  He slid his hands over every slick inch of her, setting himself to his task with a focus he usually reserved for his dolphins. His meticulous touch brought Tara to a climax not once but twice, and then she treated him to a thorough scrubbing that left them both gasping.

  Ready to explode, Flipper suited up in record time and took her hard and fast against the cool tile wall of the shower. With her excited cries ringing in his ears, he wondered yet again why he’d taken so long to accept that he and Tara belonged together.

  Chapter 22

  Flipper helped Tara fix a belated breakfast of scrambled eggs, yogurt parfait, fresh fruit, whole wheat toast, grapefruit juice, and coffee. He would’ve preferred a slab of sausage or bacon, but he had a feeling she never touched the stuff. Why spoil their contentment by mentioning it?

  “I’m almost embarrassed to admit this now that we’ve slept together, but I really don’t know much about your background other than you grew up in Alabama,” Tara said when they took their places at t
he table. “How did you end up becoming a dolphin trainer?”

  Uh-oh, talk about a mood killer. “You sure you want to talk about that now?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Because I’d much rather talk about you.” Flipper flashed a smile he hoped was charming enough to distract her.

  “I’m boring.”

  Danger, Will Robinson, danger! “You’re anything but boring. In fact, you’re the most fascinating person I know.”

  She burst out laughing. “You are so full of malarkey.”

  “Now there’s a word I haven’t heard in a while. Not since Joe Biden said it to Paul Ryan during the vice presidential debate of 2012.”

  “You never cease to astonish me.”

  “I’ll have you know I graduated magna cum laude from college.”

  “I always knew you were smart.”

  “Smart-ass, maybe. To answer your original question, and you probably won’t want to hear this, my parents took me to SeaWorld when I was ten. Dolphins have fascinated me ever since.”

  Tara looked as though she’d stuck her nose in a septic tank, but she didn’t comment.

  “My parents were always struggling to make ends meet. They told me I’d better buckle down and get serious about baseball because the only way I was going to college was on an athletic scholarship,” Flipper continued.

  “I thought you were a good student.”

  “In college, yes, but before that I never applied myself. My grades were average, but I could’ve been a fixture on the honor roll if I’d worked harder. I preferred playing whatever sport was in season and hanging with my buddies to hitting the books.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “My two biggest dreams, career wise, were playing Major League Baseball and working with dolphins. I knew I wasn’t good enough to play pro ball at the highest level, and I’d read that many marine facilities prefer their trainers to have college degrees. I was a good outfielder with some pop at the plate and ended up at Towson University, eight miles north of Baltimore, where I majored in interdisciplinary studies with an animal behavior concentration. I interned at Mystic Aquarium, where I helped care for beluga whales, and at the National Aquarium in Baltimore, where I worked with Atlantic bottlenose dolphins. But I’m probably telling you way more than you want to know.”

  “No, this is interesting. I had no idea you were…” Tara paused as if searching for the most diplomatic words, so Flipper finished her sentence for her.

  “You thought the main requirements for being a marine mammal trainer were looking good in a wet suit and in front of a crowd.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that. I know there’s more to it.”

  “There is, and most people don’t realize it. For instance, when I interned at Mystic, I helped the staff prepare diets for the whales, cleaned the exhibits and backup areas, trained husbandry behaviors, kept records, and assisted with medical procedures. Along with work experience in the department, I also had to complete an independent project. They kept me busy.”

  “Flipper, I don’t doubt you’re a diligent worker with a strong drive to succeed. I’ve seen how charismatic you are with Gulf Shore’s guests and the rapport you have with the dolphins. And I expect you’re a wonderful mentor to your assistant trainers. You don’t have to keep trying to convince me you’re exceptional at what you do.”

  “I’m not. I just…” He sighed. “You’re right. I keep feeling the need to prove myself to you and to show you my work has value.”

  “Well you can stop because I wouldn’t be sitting across from you, nor would I have had sex with you in nearly every room of my condo, if I didn’t think you were special.”

  His mouth quirked. “Special, as in ‘stay tuned for a very special episode of Blossom’?”

  Tara laughed, as he’d intended. “Don’t tell me you watched that TV show?”

  “Hell, no. But I’m sure you’ve heard those types of promos before.”

  “Of course, although I usually prefer reading to watching television. My mother restricted our time in front of what she called the imbecile box.”

  Flipper smirked. “Of course she did.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Does she know how cute she looks when she’s all haughty and indignant? And what does it say about me that it turns me on?

  “You’ve already told me you didn’t have a conventional childhood,” he replied.

  “No, but we weren’t oddballs, either.”

  “Did you hear me call you an oddball?”

  “No, but—”

  “We wouldn’t have had fabulous sex if I thought you were an oddball. And I sure as heck wouldn’t still be sitting here.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes at him in mock censure. “There must be an echo in here.”

  He grinned. “There is. And I think you’re pretty extraordinary, too.”

  “But still weird.”

  “I prefer the term ‘different.’” When she frowned, he added, “And I mean that in a good way.”

  “I think that’s why I got so wrapped up in SWADS, because I’d finally found a group of people who made me feel like I belonged. And now…” Tears filled Tara’s eyes, causing a hairline fracture to Flipper’s heart. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his.

  “Don’t let them make you feel gloomy. They’re not worth it.”

  She managed a wan smile. “This is the height of irony. I rallied those people to protest against your employer, creating problems for you and your friends, and now they’ve turned their backs on me but you haven’t. I don’t deserve your loyalty.”

  He rose from his chair and kneeled beside hers. When she cupped his cheek, he turned his head and kissed her palm.

  “Why don’t we forget all that and concentrate on the present?” he suggested. “Whatever happens, I wouldn’t trade last night or this morning for anything. I’ll never forget how it feels to make love with you. I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.”

  Flipper leaned forward and took her lips in a kiss that left him hungry for so much more. But just as he was about to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, someone pounded on her front door. He swore as she sighed in obvious disappointment.

  “I’m buying a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and hanging it on your door the next time I’m here,” he promised. “For his sake, it had better not be that jackass Larry what’s-his-name again.”

  “Clybourne.”

  “Huh?”

  “His last name is Clybourne.”

  “Whatever.” Flipper peered through the peephole and, not recognizing the man dressed in an ill-fitting suit and wrinkled shirt, demanded, “Who is it?”

  “Orlando police.”

  “Oh God, what now?” Tara’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Let me see your badge,” Flipper directed. The man held it up in front of the peephole. Flipper nodded to Tara and opened the door.

  *

  Tara flopped back on her couch in relief after the Orlando detective left. She certainly hadn’t expected the news he’d delivered.

  “Well, I’m glad Steven finally did the right thing,” she told Flipper as he settled beside her. “Even if it wasn’t for an altruistic reason.”

  Her ex had walked into the police station in Decatur, Georgia, the night before, complained he’d run out of money and options, and volunteered information about Chase Childers and threatening letters sent to Gulf Shore Aquarium. Steven admitted to writing and mailing the initial missives with Jane Childers’ help but denied responsibility for the more explicit warnings. He also swore he’d never once stepped foot in Gulf Shore. Decatur police had contacted Jo Tompkins and Charley Fishburn, the Orlando detective working on the case.

  “Yeah, Fishburn made it clear Steven’s only looking out for number one,” Flipper commented. “I guess he figures he can come home and resume his old life if Chase is arrested.”

  “He’d better not show up here asking for help because
he’ll get none from me,” Tara promised. “Let him bunk with one of his golfing buddies or maybe a former coworker. I’m not sure his boss will hire him back. I guess it depends on what type of sob story Steven gives him.”

  “Fishburn didn’t say whether Steven is facing criminal charges.”

  “If I know him, he’s trying to finagle a deal for immunity in return for his testimony. It’ll be interesting to see if he knows anything that will be of value in catching whoever fired those shots at you.”

  “I hope so. I’m tired of bodyguards dogging my every move, of seeing people I care about live in fear, and of having our work routine disrupted. I can’t wait for everything to return to normal.”

  “Normal. I’m not sure I know what that word means anymore.”

  Flipper wrapped a consoling arm around her. Tara rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Last night and this morning it had been just the two of them, and it had been wonderful. But reality had intruded yet again on their time together.

  “I wish we could go away for a few days, far from everything and everyone.”

  The fingers gently stroking her arm stilled, and she held her breath, waiting for his response.

  “If you’re serious, I’ll arrange that.”

  Her pulse rocketed and she smiled—a genuine, happy smile, the first she’d allowed herself since Detective Fishburn had shown up at her door.

  “Oh, I’m serious,” Tara confirmed. “The sooner the better.”

  *

  Flipper grabbed his gym bag and headed for Tara’s front door after dinner that evening.

  He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, let’s think about how to make that getaway happen.”

  Tara hugged his neck and kissed him again. “I have a better idea.”

  He flashed her a sexy grin. “There’s nothing I’d love more, babe, but I’ve really got to go. As it is, I’ll be cursing my alarm when it goes off at an ungodly hour.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  He rubbed his zipper against hers. “No?”

  “No. Typical man. All you think about is sex, sex, sex,” she teased.