Chapter 47

She was on the deck wearing a two-piece number that showed off her perfect form. Her dark hair hung down to the middle of her back. The thin spaghetti straps held up her gravity-defying breasts. I swear there wasn't an ounce of fat on that girl. The tingling started again in my gut.

McKayla turned and saw me through the bay window. Busted!

I could only blush. She smiled knowingly but didn't say anything.

With nowhere to hide, I walked outside onto the deck. The view of the ocean was amazing. There were a couple of trees in the backyard, but they were arranged so the shoreline was unobstructed. A privacy fence on each side of the lot kept the prying eyes of the neighbours away.

There was a small patch of grass and then the dunes started. A walkway led from the deck on the back of her house through the dunes and let out on the white sandy beach. At the fenceline, a door kept people from wandering in off the shore. A single showerhead let people rinse the salt and sand off before coming in.

The deck itself was large. It was tiered into three levels. Down from where we were standing, an area was carved out that held a grill and a table. Up one tier was the jacuzzi, another table and a covered bar. A handful of lounge chairs were scattered here and there.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked me.

"What have you got?"

"I was thinking of mixing up a couple of margaritas," she replied.

"That sounds great," I said.

"There are towels in the plastic bin behind the bar." McKayla answered my unasked question. "There's also suntan lotion in there, too. I've got some SPF 30, 40 and 45. On the rocks with salt, right?"

I nodded.

She went over to the bar and began mixing drinks. Nothing so crude as simply tequila and a mixer, but she handmade a margarita from scratch. Cointreau, Grand Marnier, a squeeze of lime juice and some blanco tequila she picked up on a cruise to Mexico. I don't know about you, but in my book, that qualified her as a keeper.

As I sorted through the sunblock, she handed me a glass. I took a long pull. It wasn't too strong or too sour. It was just right.

"Beach or deck?" she asked.

"Deck," I replied.

We sat down on a couple of the lounge chairs. The sun was out but the ocean breeze kept it from being too hot.

Taking turns, we greased each other up with the suntan lotion. Her hands seemed to linger on my body and when she was done, I was disappointed not to feel her touch. I know my hands spent more time roaming her body than was necessary.

For the time being, we pretended we were just two friends hanging out. The anticipation of the night was never far from my mind, though.

The drinks kept the butterflies under control, at least for me. McKayla seemed a little restless, but we lay out, taking care to turn over regularly.

We talked for the rest of the afternoon. Mostly about trivial stuff. Work. Our friends. Casual things.

Around five, McKayla had me tie the back of her bikini and then sat up. "I'm going inside to clean up and get dinner ready. You can shower in my room if you want or just hang out back here."

Then she leaned over and kissed me. There was hunger in her touch, and all too soon, she went inside, leaving me alone on the deck, my nipples sticking straight up and a tingle between my legs.

I spent the next few minutes trying to bring my heart rate down, then I went inside. McKayla had a couple of pots going and was busy cutting up some chicken.

She had changed into a sundress and smiled as I passed through. I went back to the bedroom and jumped into the shower, quickly washing off the oily lotion. I put on a nice blouse and a skirt and returned to the kitchen.

The smells were already permeating the house and my mouth started to water. I couldn't tell what she was making, but she had some pasta going, a white sauce in another pot and was sautéing up the chicken with some mushrooms.

"Can I help you with anything?" I asked.

McKayla looked thoughtful for a second. "How about opening up a bottle of wine? I think the chardonnay would go well with this."

It only took her about twenty more minutes to have dinner ready. She prepared the chicken and mushrooms in a white wine sauce and served it over linguini with a light tossed salad on the side. We ate on the back deck, watching the sky turn orange and red as the sun set behind us.

She was a tremendous cook and I tried to eat everything on my plate, but I just couldn't. I think my nerves were getting to me.

We finished dinner and she cleaned up. McKayla wouldn't even let me near the sink to wash my dishes off.

A part of me was nervous. I had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner to build up my courage. Was I willing to go through with this?

When she was done cleaning up, McKayla led me out on to the deck. The sun had just set. A three-quarter moon hung reflected across the ocean. The sounds of the waves against the shore were soothing.

I knew what was going to happen next.