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A low rumble rose in a quickening crescendo that ended abruptly with a thunderous crashes the wave hit the beach. The quieter whispering rush of sound as the waters receded across the rocks and sand exposed for a second the rasping noise of her zipper as he tugged it downward… and then another pounding wave drowned all other sounds in its suddenness…

Darlene Jefferson tossed restlessly in her bed, knowing she had to get up and fix breakfast, but not yet willing to give up her dream. She could hear Roger's electric shaver going in the bathroom and the sounds of early morning shuffling through the paper-thin walls of the apartment next door, but still she couldn't bring herself to leave… not now… not now… not yet.

She wanted to cry out, but his hands had touched her breasts just as softly and tenderly as the withdrawing surf that caressed the sand in its return to the sea. Her senses seemed to be so vibrantly alert – the crashing waves became an explosive roar in her ears, the ebbing waters seemed to be whispering soft encouragement to her and the warmth of his searching hands offered such comforting protection against the salty chill of the night air.

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