After renting a couple chairs and an umbrella, I set my bag on the sand and removed my shorts and tank top, exposing my turquoise bikini. It was a little more revealing than I normally wore, but it was really cute and I wanted to feel sexy.
Max made me feel sexy, I thought. The way his eyes had raked up and down my body, turning lusty, had definitely made me feel sexy… and it was an odd feeling for me.
Shaking those thoughts away, I dug through my bag for my sunscreen. The sun was blazing and the last thing I needed was a red face and body.
I found the bottle and bent over, spraying my legs first.
“I can help you with that,” I heard a voice say.
My head snapped up, finding Max walking toward me. “What?” I asked, struck stupid by his exposed chest and swim trunks.
“I said I could help you with that.” He came to a stop in front of me. “I wouldn’t want that beautiful back of yours to burn.”
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts of how hot he looked and the fact that he had just called my back beautiful. “Max, we’re supposed to be friends.”
“That’s what I’m doing. Being your friend by not letting your back scorch from the sun. Friends don’t like other friends to be in pain—at least not my version of friends.”
“Fine,” I relented—his reasoning was pretty solid—and handed him the bottle. “Thank you.”
He smiled and grabbed it from my hand. “Come sit down under the umbrella so I can make sure I don’t miss a spot. The sun is blinding.”
After taking a deep breath, I sat down sideways on the chair. Max smirked, and to my surprise, sat down on the chair, draping his legs over the sides. “Now, scoot between my legs.”
“Rebecca,” he said as he grabbed me by the waist and placed me between his legs. “There. Now I can do a good job.”
He began spraying my shoulders, which shouldn’t have been sexual in any way, but I couldn’t help the shiver that ran up my spine. He worked his way down my back, then pressed his chest against me. “Should I untie this tiny little string?” he whispered into my ear. “I wouldn’t want you to burn.”
“I… um…” I stammered, “I doubt that would happen under the fabric.”
I began to get up, but his hand came around my lower stomach, stopping me. “Wait. I need to rub it in.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do.”