Gale Force by Rachel Caine Page B

problem. He was sitting in the shade of a beach umbrella, wearing camouflage baggy shorts and a death’s head muscle T-shirt. He was, at eighteen and change, growing into his height; he was looking less like the underfed, awkward teen I’d first met, and more like the tall, strong man he would become.
    Across from him sat Lewis, wearing khaki shorts and a ratty T-shirt advertising that Virginia was the place for lovers. They were both wearing slick sunglasses,and I had to admit, they looked pleased with themselves.
    ‘‘Hey,’’ Kevin said. Too cool for any kind of more enthusiastic greeting. I nodded back. We kept our dignity. ‘‘Heard you screwed up. Way to go.’’
    ‘‘Isn’t this great ?’’ Cherise didn’t much care about things like dignity, if they got in the way of enthusiasm, but then, that was something I loved about her. Something I suspected Kevin loved, too. ‘‘Check it out, we’ve even got waves!’’
    They’d outdone themselves. God only knew how they’d managed it, but they’d cordoned off part of the roof and put up patio tables, beach umbrellas, spread sand several inches deep, and put in a pool. Not a big one—more of a landscaping kind of thing—but sure enough, Lewis obligingly generated some rolling miniature surf. It was very cute.
    There were two lounge chairs. I settled myself on one, already relaxing in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, and stretched my long legs out as Cherise kissed Kevin and took the other lounger. We debated the merits of coconut-scented oils over banana sunscreens. I went with sunscreen, figuring that I’d had enough dangerous radiation for a lifetime.
    As I rubbed it into my legs, a male hand reached over my shoulder and took the bottle away. I looked up, pulled down my sunglasses, and squinted.
    David gave me a slow, wicked smile. ‘‘I’ll do it,’’ he said. ‘‘Lie still.’’
    I licked my lips, tasted sweat, and returned his smile. I settled back against the cushions. David came around to the side of the lounge chair, perched on the edge, and squeezed some sunscreen out into his palms.
    ‘‘You guys aren’t going to make this X-rated, are you?’’ Cherise asked. ‘‘Because if you are, I need a barf bag. Or a video camera.’’
    David didn’t glance toward Lewis, and I had to fight not to. ‘‘Nothing that couldn’t air on the nightly news,’’ he said. ‘‘Word of honor.’’ He held up his glistening hands. ‘‘Ready?’’
    ‘‘Oh, yes.’’
    I closed my eyes in total, animal satisfaction as his fingers massaged sunscreen into every inch of my feet, then worked their way slowly up my legs, my knees, up my thighs, seeking out every ounce of tension in every muscle. He skipped areas that might have led to excessive moaning (not that I wasn’t moaning already) and moved on to my hips, my stomach. What he did to my shoulders should have been in the Kama Sutra . It felt . . . healing. And yes, sexy as hell.
    ‘‘Turn over,’’ he said, low in his throat, and I glanced up to see that wicked, lovely spark in his eyes. ‘‘Time to do your back.’’
    Oh, and he did me. Thoroughly. I was a boneless, purring heap by the time he’d finished. David pulled up another lounge chair and parked himself next to me. When I looked at him, he was showing more skin than I could remember seeing from him before in public; he had on a simple black pair of swim trunks, and nothing else, and it was spectacular . I let my gaze wander down the clean sculptural lines of his chest, bump over his taut abs, and found myself staring none too subtly at his swim trunks.
    ‘‘Jo,’’ he said. I heard the curl of soft reproach in his voice.
    ‘‘Sorry,’’ I said. ‘‘But you’re worth a rude stare or two, you know.’’
    He smiled. I couldn’t tell if he found me amusing or arousing, or both. He took in a deep, slow breath without replying and turned his face up toward the sun. I remembered how it felt for a Djinn, that almost