Page 24 of Kane

I put all that out of my mind, and just ride.

We hit San Diego in a couple hours, and I find a good beach, not a crazy crowded one. It’s late afternoon, hot, golden sun shining bright.

We swing off, and she stretches, massages. I’d give anything to be the man who gets to massage feeling back into that tight little ass of hers. I keep my filthy hands to myself and wait. There’s a surf shop across the street, and I figure I’ll take her there and get us suits. Let her swim a bit, have some fun while we figure out what’s next.

Instead, she heads right for the beach.

I catch up, walk next to her. “Don’t you want to swim?”

She looks at me, at the beach. “Swim?”

I gesture. “Yes, the beach. Swim.”

“Yes?” As if it’s obvious.

I’m missing something, here.

I gesture at her. “You need a suit.”

She blinks. “Oh.”

I laugh, letting my confusion show. “Anjalee, what am I missing?”

“In Mumbai, we did not wear…this.” She watches a trio of teenage girls traipse by in string bikinis, waving at them.

“So what’d you wear to the beach?”

“A saree, tied up around the legs.”

“But you don’t goinin, wearing that?”

“No.”

“So you don’t wear a bathing suit? Like, not even a one-piece?”

“Many girls do, especially younger, like me. For me it is not allowed. Older women like my mother, no bathing suit, only the saree.”

“Can you swim?”

She shrugs. “Yes, we have a pool at home. It is private, only for us. Pappa allows me to have a bathing suit and to swim, if there is only Mamma or other women with me.”

I gesture the other way. “There’s a shop. I’ll get you a suit.”

“Will you swim with me?”

I grin. “Hell yeah. I don’t go to a beach to sit on my ass.”

She grins. “I should like that, I think.”

That smile, my god. White, even straight teeth, perfect. The way her lips turn up at the corners, the pure joy in it…it hits me in the gut like a bullet. Takes my breath away.

Crazy as fuck, but when she gives me that grin, like I made her day? I’d do literally any-fucking-thing to keep that smile on her face.

The shop is small, very cold, most of their merch on the walls, and a few racks. I pick a suit, a pair of short, retro trunks. She takes a bit longer, but I don’t rush her.

To my surprise, she picks a two-piece.

She takes it to the changing room and is quiet a moment.