It was raining—not just a light sprinkle, but a downpour that left puddles on the sidewalks and filled in the low spots of every street for miles. I stared out the hotel window and sighed. Three days into my vacation and I hadn't been to the beach.
A trip to the hotel pool proved a waste of time. Children splashed and played in the water, their screams reverberating off the walls of glass. I was bored. Sightseeing was out until the rain stopped. Shopping was an option but I hadn't flown a thousand miles to wander through a mall. The hotel shuttle stopped at an assortment of restaurants but eating alone didn't appeal to me, either.
When I planned my trip, I looked forward to sharing a beach with sunbathers, sandcastles, and swim fins. I wanted beach umbrellas, coolers, and impromptu games of Frisbee. As nice as it was, my hotel room didn't excite me. I wanted to go to the beach. Making a snap decision, I packed a tote bag, slid my arms into a sweatshirt, and left the hotel.
Waves several feet high crashed into the deserted shoreline while I huddled deeper into my sweatshirt in a futile attempt at staying dry. Suddenly, the irony of trying to stay dry at the beach lightened my mood. I stashed my tote bag behind a large piece of driftwood before running into the churning water.
The beach was my favorite place to be. I loved the constantly changing shorelines and the rolling waves. My laughter lingered in the air. I splashed and jumped into the waves like a child. When I ran out of energy, I sat in the sand, shrieking when the cold water saturated my shorts. A combination of water and sand splattered my thighs with each wave. The skies turned darker even as my boredom disappeared.
"It's raining."
I heard the voice a second before a tanned leg appeared at my side. It wasn't just any leg, but a firm, muscular, male leg. I began to speak but the clouds chose that moment to slam into each other. The bottoms split open with a horrendous rumble that shook the ground. Rain burst from the clouds and stung my skin before dripping into the sand. Lightning snaked across the sky in angry streaks.
"Quick! We need to get out of the water!"
The stranger jerked me to my feet and pulled me behind him to a small overhang nature carved into the sand. We clung to each other in the tiny space in the same way lovers clung together. His breath warmed my neck even more than my sweatshirt did. I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see anything except the small patch of skin inches from my eyes. The wind whipped sand into the air and deposited it at our feet. I felt the stranger's arms repositioning and panicked.
"Don't leave me!"
A gust of ripped my words from my throat and scattered them over the water. I wanted to scream but if I had paid attention to the weather, I wouldn't be in danger. He shook his head and hugged me tighter. Several deep breaths relieved some of the tension in my body and I slumped against his chest.
He seemed unaware of anything but the storm. I closed my eyes to block out the lightning and discovered another storm. His cologne teased my nostrils. The faint scent of lime tempted my taste buds. Electrical charges scorched my skin everywhere his body touched me. I struggled to discern the thudding of my heart from the thunder clamoring above.
I wanted his hands on my back, exploring my skin, and teasing my breasts. Heat warmed my skin at the images filling my head. He was a stranger. I didn't know what his intentions were or why he was on the beach. Yet I wiggled closer.
"Are you cold?"
