Breeze of Life by Kirsty Dallas Page B

not good for surfing, but beautiful nonetheless
     
    Once the sun was up, the tent became a steaming sauna. I kicked the stifling sleeping bag off in an attempt to find some reprieve from the heat. It didn’t help and I groaned loudly with irritation. Turning my head to the side, I found Harper sprawled out on his stomach, shirtless with his boardies riding low on his hips—what a damn fine sight to wake up to. I had no idea when he came to bed, once I had put away my notebook and laid my head on my pillow, I slept like the dead. My hand itched to touch Harper and my inner woman stomped her feet with infantile demand, insisting she be placated. I couldn’t deny her as I reached out and ran the tip of my finger around the shell of Harper’s ear. After a moment he swatted me away. Once he settled again I resumed the tickle. Another swat followed by a groan. I went in again but this time instead of swatting me away he grabbed my wrist.
    “Fuck off, Breeze,” he grumbled.
    “I’m hungry,” I whispered. Harper rolled over to look at me and my eyes were immediately drawn to his new tattoo which was now uncovered. I gasped, my eyes widened in shock. Harper glanced down at the tattoo and grinned. The tree of life was beautiful, strong and manly, but still beautiful. What caught my attention was the elegant scrolling word beneath it, “Breeze”.
    “You swore, you owe me half an hour of slavery,” I murmured. You would think I could find something more appropriate to say, but no, my mind registered the F-bomb.
    “That’s all you’ve got to say right now?” Harper scoffed.
    “Actually there are a lot of things running through my head right now.” And there were. My name marked on his body, permanently.  I wanted to run my finger over it with a satisfying sense of ownership. I wanted to run my lips and tongue over it and scream to the heavens that this masterpiece of male before me was mine! “I’m not sure if I should hit you or kiss you.” I finally grinned.
    “I’m all for the latter,” Harper said all too smugly. I smacked him hard on the stomach which didn’t give an inch. Damn he was solid.
    “I’m starving and this camping adventure lacks food,” I grumbled, choosing to ignore the tattoo and what it represented. Harper pulled his pillow over his head.
    “Go get something to eat then,” he suggested. I couldn’t help myself, I had to touch him again. With whisper soft fingers, I traced the taut lines of his stomach. Harper was ticklish and I knew if anything was going to get him moving this morning it was that. He quickly grabbed my wrists to stop me.
    “Breeze, if you keep touching me like that I will pin you down and kiss you senseless.” What the hell? I had no response, I was speechless. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said letting go of my wrists.
    “Your deals are dangerous,” I murmured.
    “Come for a swim with me then I’ll go get you food.” Not a chance in hell, I thought. Harper laughed at the obviously horrified look on my face.
    “Come on, Breeze, I know you can swim and I know you’ve got more than one bikini in your backpack. I’ll even close my eyes while you put it on.” He squeezed his eyes shut for extra effect. The heat was stifling and the thought of a quick dip was appealing, however, the thought of strutting around in a bikini made me feel sick to my stomach.
    “Harper, I’m not really comfortable in a swimsuit right now,” I confessed. His eyes snapped open.
    “Why not?” he demanded. My eyes dropped to my spindly body. Was he even looking at me? I was skinny, pale, and my breasts had shrunk to pathetic and ridiculous looking beestings. When my eyes returned to Harper’s, I didn’t miss the heated gaze as he looked me over. The hunger there was undeniable. Perhaps Harper had eyesight problems? I shook my head in frustration.
    “I’ve lost a lot of weight, my skin resembles Casper the Ghost, and I’m bald.” Harper sat up to face me front on.
    “Your