Clinging to Lust √

Ocean Wild (Part I)

Just a few more steps and she would be within touching distance of him. Not that she had any plans of actually touching him. He was completely unattainable. In the sense that he was a few years older than her and he probably saw her as a child.

Still, the allure of Darrell Davenport was too strong to resist.

Ever since her sister's wedding four years ago she'd been practically obsessed with him. And not in a good way. Her hussy-like behavior was baffling, even to her.

The first time she'd been scorched by his flame was when he'd taken her into his arms for the maid of honor and best man dance. His large hand on her lower back had managed to send butterflies fluttering in confusion because it was the first time she'd ever felt that way around a man. At the time her feelings weren't sexual, merely a school girl's crush.

Lately, however, her feelings had blossomed into something more venereal. She wanted to do things with him she didn't think she'd ever want to do with a man . . . like ever. She blamed it on her teenage hormones going haywire. What other explanation could there be?

The pull she felt toward Darrell was stronger than ever. Like he was a magnet - a very powerful magnet - she wanted to get sucked against. Two halves becoming one. That kind of cheesy stuff.

"Hi, Darrell," she said.

Light brown eyes the color of whiskey focused and held her gaze. "Hey, baby girl. Everything okay?"

Baby girl.

She hated when he called her that. She was nobody's baby girl. Not even her father had wanted her as a baby, because the second she'd been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis he had skipped town never to be heard from again.

"Everything's fine," she said as she racked her brain for something clever to say. "Xio sent me out here to see if you needed anything."

That was a lie, of course. Could he tell? She flushed and her blood heated. Her sister was too busy running a business to care. The only reason Xiomara was home now was because her father wasn't feeling well.

Esmeralda disliked the fact that she had to make up some lame excuse to get out of the house so she could talk to Darrell. Generally, she was a confident person, but around Darrell, she often felt like a kid with wobbly legs and bad acne. When he talked he sounded like a man who had all the facts. There was a quiet authoritativeness to him that only helped to emphasize the nine-year difference between them.

Darrell wiped his greasy hands on a towel and then stood back to look at her. "I'm almost done here."

He didn't say anything else, just stared directly into her eyes. The next move was hers now.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Her mouth went dry. She fisted her suddenly clammy hands and tried hard not to fidget under Darrell's intense gaze. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Staring back into his nearly golden eyes, it was hard to tell.

He had really beautiful eyes, the kind she could wake up next to for the rest of her life.

His eyelashes?

To die for.

Long and dark they added a tinge of mystery to his gaze. With her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, she couldn't look away. Didn't want to look away. She was mesmerized and breathless.