Riding the Waves. Tawny Weber

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      Praise for Tawny Weber

      “Sexy, hot, intriguing as well as fun are all hallmarks of a Tawny Weber tale.”

      —CataRomance

      “If you like laugh out loud tales laced with spicy scenes, I recommend Tawny Weber. I look forward to reading more from this talented author.”

      —Romance Junkies

      “Tawny Weber delivers a story that is sexy, romantic, and inspirational. I will be very much looking forward to more from this talented author.”

      —Wild On Books

      “Feels Like the First Time is scandalous fun for the voracious reader. The story moves quickly, smoothly, and with enough heat to burn your fingers as you turn the pages.”

      —A Romance Review

      “Snappy, young and hip, Tawny Weber’s fresh voice pops with energy!”

      —New York Times bestselling author

      Julie Elizabeth Leto

      Dear Reader,

      I’m a big fan of dreaming. I dream up stories. I dream up excuses. I dream up wild scenarios in which delicious chocolate is fat-free, killer heels don’t hurt my feet and money really does grow on trees.

      In other words, I spend a great deal of time in a fantasy land. Which is why I was so excited when my editor suggested I write a Forbidden Fantasy. What’s better than a fantasy, after all? Especially a fantasy that’s naughty and off-limits….

      And that’s exactly what Drucilla decides her vacation-fling fantasy will be—very, very naughty. Especially when she meets surfer boy Alex, a guy who’s so much more than he seems.

      If you’re on the Internet, please drop by my Web site at www.tawnyweber.com and let me know what you think of Drucilla and Alex’s story. While you’re there, check out my blog, vote for the hunk of the month or enter my current contest. I’d love to hear from you.

      Enjoy,

      Tawny Weber

      Riding the Waves

      Tawny Weber

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Tawny Weber is usually found dreaming up stories in her California home, surrounded by dogs, cats and kids. When she’s not writing hot, spicy stories for Harlequin Blaze, she’s shopping for the perfect pair of shoes or drooling over Johnny Depp pictures (when her husband isn’t looking, of course). Come by and visit her on the web at www.tawnyweber.com.

      A huge hug and lots of thanks to Nancy Haddock for the surf instructions and to Lisa Spindler for being my science go-to gal.

      And, as always, thanks to Elaine English for the great direction and advice.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Epilogue

      1

      “SOOO? How was your date?”

      Drucilla Robichoux froze, her spoonful of lemon yogurt halfway to her mouth. She’d been dreading this question.

      Wrinkling her nose, she shot a quick glance around the lab’s lunchroom. Sunlight, filtered through typical San Francisco fog, dully lit the empty space. Seeing no escape—and fortunately nobody to overhear—she sighed, licked the tart yogurt from the spoon and prepared to confess.

      “I think I’d be better off giving up on men,” she admitted to her best friend and fellow scientist, Nikki Hanson. “This is the sixth failed dating experiment this year. And it’s only August.”

      “I can’t say I’m surprised. I still can’t believe you went on more than one date with Dr. Uptight,” Nikki said as she polished off her pastrami sandwich. She meant Bryan Smith-Updike, a physicist from the Lawrence Livermore Lab and Drucilla’s companion the last four Saturday nights. The first three, they’d attended the theater, the opera and the California Academy of Sciences. She’d been bored to death, but not nearly as bored as she’d been during the sex that’d marked their fourth weekend.

      “It wasn’t much of a date,” Dru admitted. “The guy was a gasper.”

      “That’s even worse than the wheezer. What was his name? Mad-scientist Maxwell?”

      “No, he was the counter. You know, in-two-three. Out-two-three. The wheezer was that biochemist I dated last year.”

      “Maybe gasping is a step up?” Nikki asked, her doubtful wince making her dimples flash. “But at least Uptight finally dropped drawers, right?”

      “Unfortunately,” Drucilla confirmed with a grimace. She puffed out her cheeks, contemplated the last few bites of yogurt, then shoved it aside and opened her bag of cut vegetables.

      She lamented the sad truth…. Her love life was in an unending downward spiral of suckiness.

      Drucilla wanted to love sex. Better yet, she wanted a sex life worth loving. She was a firm believer in maintaining a healthy balance between mind and body. Her mind was top-notch and she worked to keep her body the same. Good food, regular exercise. And sex, dammit. She’d read plenty of studies that claimed that regular, satisfying sex was important to good health. And she was missing out.

      Maybe self-gratification would be enough if she increased her beta-carotene intake?

      “So the date didn’t go well?” Nikki nudged, obviously wanting all the dirty details.

      Drucilla popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and debated blowing off the question. Then, realizing it couldn’t sound any worse than the wheezer confession—always nice to have a rock bottom—she shrugged.

      “Oh, sure, it went well for him,” she said after she’d swallowed. “Peachy, in fact. Remember how I told you that Bryan’s been frustrated with the calculations he’s been working on?” Drucilla waited for Nikki’s confused nod before continuing. “Well, he’s had a breakthrough. Mid, shall we say, thrust, he yelled ‘Eureka!’ rolled over and scrambled for his pants, where he apparently always carries a notepad and pen.”

      Dru smirked at the shocked, slack-jawed look on Nikki’s face. “Yep, he was so thrilled to have broken that mathematical code, he didn’t even grumble when I shoved him out the door before he could finish zipping his pants.”

      Mouth still agape, Nikki shook her head in pitying shock. “How on earth do you find these guys?”

      “It’s a gift,” Dru mused.

      “I think this guy’s worse than that Nobel laureate you went out with who carried a picture of Einstein in his pocket along with a condom.”

      “And insisted on both during sex,” Dru agreed, wrinkling her nose at the memory. “The condom was welcome, but sadly, the only one of the three of us to end up with wild-sex hair was ole