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Excerpt From: Play for Keeps
āOn your way somewhere?ā
Keera Koltai lifted her gaze from the nearly empty beer bottle wrapped in her fingers to connect with a pair of very liquid, very male eyes. Brown, with flecks of lighter tan about the same colour as the bare skin of his lean chest.
What was it with the guys around these islands? Didnāt any of them wear shirts?
At least, this one had a black tee tucked into the back pocket of his low hung jeans.
He spoke again, his southern Florida accent hanging heavy in the damp August air. āWhereād you ride from?ā
āUp by Tampa.ā Keera swallowed the last of her beer and rolled the empty bottle in her hands as she scanned the mostly empty roadside park. The only life enjoying the mangrove shaded crushed shell shoreline was a trio of stilts, wading along in the quiet tide. Over on the other side of the parking lot some parents dug through their van, sorting out gear while their kids jumped up, trying to touch the low needles of a slash pine.
When she looked back to the guy, he nodded, swinging himself around her bright yellow Buell and dropping onto the sandy grass where sheād stopped to stretch before continuing the last few miles to the isolated campground where she was headed. The dayās last rays of sun crossed over his chest, casting shadows over his long, lean legs. Tipping his head, he said, āNice bike.ā
The Buell was Keeraās only real possession, a symbol of some constant quest. Maybe a quest for freedom, maybe a quest for something else, she really didnāt know. The bike was such a personal part of herself, a part that even she didnāt understand, she rarely talked about it with anyone. So she simply nodded and said thanks.
He slanted her a grin and held out his hand. āIām Samuel, off-duty fishing guide.ā
Keera accepted the gesture, wrapping her fingers around his wide palm. Calloused skin rasped against her fingertips as he slowly pulled away in a release so gradual it was a sensual promise. A warm sliver of awareness slipped through her, and she found herself taking an appraising look at his leanly muscled chest and flat stomach.
He noticed her stare and angled back onto his elbows, strands of his shaggy black hair catching in the evening breeze. āI was fishing the rivers that come off White Water Bay the past couple days, now Iām headed up Tamiami Trail to hang out with some friends, then, you know, whatever.ā
Right.
Whatever.
Keera knew where the conversation was headed.
To hook up or not to hook up.
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