The back-and-forth parrying begins! But which one will come out on top? (figuratively speaking - ha!).

His lips were surprisingly soft, whisper light and tentative at first as I felt his hand grip the back of my neck to hold me still, his fingers splayed in my hair. I stood there frozen, my hands to my sides as the kiss slowly began to evolve into something deeper and more probing as he applied more pressure against my mouth. Unable to help myself, I moaned softly into the kiss, feeling all sorts of emotions combatting inside me, which allowed his tongue just enough room to dart out and slide sensuously across my bottom lip.

The next thing I knew his tongue was pressed into my mouth and I began to feel like I was spiraling out of control as my hands reached out to slide up the smooth fabric of his shirt, coming to rest on his shoulders to grip them as I tried to stay steady on my feet. I had experimented with boys before while in school - mainly in the changing rooms out back by our high school's Olympic-sized pool after swimming meets or practices - but my infrequent and casual trysts with them compared to nothing like this. This was like skiing through a treacherous mountain pass without any poles, as opposed to trying out the bunny slope with a bunch of octogenarians. This was far more frightening in its intensity, but also way more exhilarating.

I heard the dull thump of my artwork being dropped to the floor just before Brian came up for air, just long enough to emit some sort of possessive growl as he plastered his lips back onto mine. This time, however, there was nothing gentle or tentative about it. It was both primal and territorial. The pressure on the back on my neck increased as he pushed our bodies even more impossibly closer; the next thing I knew his other hand had reached around to boldly grip one of my ass cheeks, and I found myself unable to even move my hands from his shoulders as I was locked tightly into place like some linen-wrapped mummy.

He ground his hips against mine as my breathing threatened to stop, thrilling at the sensations rushing through me as I sensed the obvious indication of his desire for me. But I couldn't help fearing instinctively that he was toying with me like a cat would play with a mouse before it was callously tossed aside for another prey. That disconcerting thought gave me just enough strength to do what my body didn't want to do, but what my mind told me that I must, as I did a sort of 'body shove' and dislodged myself from his grasp.

I could see the look of stunned astonishment on Brian's face as I broke off our kiss, managing successfully this time to use the element of surprise to push him away from me. I could feel my lips tingling from the result of our encounter - actually, my entire body tingling - as I tried desperately to regain a normal breathing pattern. I could only imagine what my hair and clothing looked like at the moment, since his hands had been roaming all over me just a few seconds ago.

I straightened out my clothes as best I could to try and regain some modicum of dignity as I told him coolly, "It's late, Mr. Kinney, and I have an early day tomorrow," as I turned to head down the hallway, leaving him standing there with his mouth gaping open like a big fish. I imagined someone who looked like him wasn't used to being rejected - and I couldn't believe I was doing it myself - but for the sake of my self-worth, as well as my own sanity, I kept walking, not wanting to turn around and look at him for fear I would promptly change my mind.

I was hoping he was going to just remain standing there, shell-shocked and mute, before I heard him speak up behind me after a few seconds. "You can walk away, Justin, but it won't solve anything. I know you're attracted to me," he said confidently. "And the name's Brian, too, by the way, in case you're forgotten."

How could I possibly forget that? I said to myself. The fact that he actually used my real name this time caused me to stop and turn around as I told him, "We have nothing to resolve...Brian. I won't be anyone's one-time vacation fuck." No matter HOW damn hot you are, I thought silently to myself, as I turned around to go.

"Who said you were?" he called after me.

I turned back around; noticing Brian had moved a little further toward me, but still too far away to catch up with me. "We hardly know each other," I pointed out before I shook my head at the irony. "Hell, you didn't even know my NAME until a couple of hours ago! What makes me believe that you would really want to get to know me before you fucked me, then?"

Brian slowly advanced closer to me as I stood my ground. "I don't remember offering."

"You didn't have to," I told him with more confidence than I actually felt; inside I was scared as hell. "It was pretty obvious."

Brian stopped in the hallway several feet away as he arched one brow at me. "Oh, really? You're a mind reader now in addition to an artist?"

I bristled at his flippancy. "Come on, Brian! Do you really think just because I'm blond that I'm stupid, too?"

Brian sighed. "I didn't say that, Justin."

I shook my head. "This conversation is getting us nowhere," I interjected; realizing I suddenly was feeling exhausted - both physically as well as emotionally. "You...You can reach your suite through there," I told him, pointing over to where the hallway split into two different directions. My father always kept his non-paying, 'on-the-house' guests in a particular wing of the hotel, down the left from where our cluster of family suites was located, so I figured that Brian's suite had to be among those, probably the corner suite if I guessed correctly. That's where he placed the guests he was trying to impress the most, and something told me that Brian would expect nothing less. "Goodnight, Brian," I told him coolly as I turned and headed purposefully down the hallway toward my own suite, not daring to look back now.

Thankfully, I didn't hear any footsteps behind me, so I knew he wasn't following me. I refused to turn my head back around to see exactly where he was as I placed my card into the slot and pushed the door handle to enter. But as soon as I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes, raising my fingers to trace over my swollen lips from where we had kissed earlier. I could hear the soft ticking of a nearby clock and my elevated breathing in the stillness of the suite as I took deep breaths to try and calm my erratically beating heart. I half-expected to hear a knock on my door at any time, finding myself a little surprised as well as disappointed that I didn't, before I turned and headed down the short hallway to my bathroom, deciding I needed a nice, hot soaking in the Jacuzzi to try and soothe my nerves.

Next Morning

"Good Morning. Time to wake up. It's going to be a beautiful day. Good Morning. Time to Wake up. It's Going to be a beautiful day..."

I groaned over the insipient woman's voice droning on and on...why had my father thought it was such a great idea to have an audio wakeup call programming feature for the hotel? At least it had ONE advantage...

"Shut the fuck UP!" I yelled at it as the voice went blissfully silent. At least 'she' understood THAT directive.

I reluctantly turned my head and opened my eyes, wincing at the blast of sunshine already streaming into my room; was it time to get up already? I had tossed and turned all night, images of a certain, sexy brunet constantly invading my dreams to the point where I had awakened earlier to my sheets soaked and my body sweaty. I kept imagining all sorts of things I could be doing with Brian, some of which I was personally familiar with and some of which I was not but had always fantasized about.

I raked my left hand through my hair as I yawned and pulled myself up to sit against the headboard of my bed. I could smell the coffee already brewing in the kitchen down the hall, thankful that my father had installed the ability to preprogram so many functions at the touch of a few buttons in each of the suites (well, at least except for that damn woman waking me up). After my shower, coffee was always the next thing on my list of 'must-haves' each morning, and I knew today I would need it most of all.

Showered and dressed in my standard lifeguard apparel a few minutes later, I gulped down the last of my coffee as I looked around for where I had left my sun blocker, whistle, and sunglasses previously. Grabbing my keycard and my white windbreaker, I finally remembered I had left them on the small, circular table near the front door.

Heading over to retrieve them, I saw a white envelope lying near the entrance, rubber-banded to a slim DVD case that must have been slid under the door. Bending down to retrieve it, I turned the case over to see what it contained. I snorted then as I finally realized where my nickname must have come from: It was apparently the name of some hokey-looking surfer movie from the time of the caveman, at least from the look of the girl on the cover. "Gidget Collection," I read as I looked at the three names of the movies on the front. I could see one of them depicting a girl on a surfboard, apparently practicing on top of her mattress in her bedroom.

"Maybe I should start calling YOU Gidget, Surfer Boy," I huffed. After all, I wasn't the one always on the surfboard.

I still didn't understand why he was comparing me to this girl, though, except for both of us being blond-haired. Resolving to find out before I left for patrol, I pulled the tucked-in flap of the envelope open to read the note written in bold handwriting on a piece of the resort's stationery:

Don't skip lunch today. How about we eat something together? 1:00. And by the way, you're not a 'Gidget' where it really counts. ~B

What was THAT supposed to mean? "How flattering," I mumbled as my curiosity got the best of me. Pulling my cellphone out of my jacket pocket, I pulled up my internet browser to search for the term 'Gidget,' finding it listed under the urban dictionary as:

1. A movie from 1959 with Sandra Dee about a girl who has boy troubles and over the summer discovers surfing and love.

Surfing and love; that was rich. "Oh, brother."

There was also another definition underneath that one that read:

(adj)-very cool, awesome

"Hmmm," I thought as my eyebrows rose and I considered that meaning; I could certainly live with that one, although something told me that's not how he was using it. I skimmed the rest of the information on the site, noting some other, not-so-complimentary ones that followed:

To pull a Gidget: To sleep with a girl who is younger than you by more than 5 years

"In your dreams," I told him with a snicker.

And then there was this very 'flattering' one:

A Gidget is an over grown midget whose height is from 4'11-5'1/2.

"Hey!" I couldn't help responding. He'd better not mean that one. I wasn't THAT short.

And then I came to the last one:

A contraction of the words gibbled and midget; used to define a person who is humorously lacking in intelligence and/or co-ordination.

I grinned. "That one fits you to a tee," I quipped, unable to chuckle a little at that. I sighed. The man was certainly an enigma, worrying about me eating in one breath and then attaching a not-so-ego-boosting pet name with the other. One thing I knew, though; I would be pretty much a captive audience if he chose to show up on the beach later today; it wasn't like I could run off and hide somewhere. I had meant it earlier when I told him that I took my job seriously; it may not be the one that I had hoped to have for this summer, but I realized the responsibilities that came with it, and as long as I was performing those duties, I meant to do it the right way.

Placing the DVD and note down on the table, I scooped up my equipment and headed out the door.

I trudged through the sand toward my lifeguard station, stopping for just a moment to acknowledge Emmett who was dragging a stainless steel, circular postcard display out the front door of the surfer shop to place it by the entrance in hopes of luring some tourists in for the day.

"Hey, Baby," he greeted me with a smile. I couldn't help returning the smile; of course, Emmett's rather flashy style of dress was enough to make anyone smile, though. Today he was wearing a bright, fuchsia-colored, sleeveless tank top with the words "Suck it up" inscribed in big, white letters and a pair of lavender-colored, satin pants. A pair of multi-colored flip-flops completed his ensemble.

"Hi, Em," I responded affectionately.

"Ready for another round?" he asked me as I sighed in reaction.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. As long as I don't have to rescue people that don't need to be rescued."

Em laughed. "Well, I'm not sure I would agree with you there. I'd be glad to give that man some CPR any day. Honey, he's hot! There was nothing he could hide in that compression suit," he pointed out meaningfully.

I grimaced, not wanting to think about that particular statement. "Yeah, well, he's also conceited and full of himself. He...he thinks that just because he looks the way he does that everyone is going to jump into bed with him." Oops. I knew as soon as I said that that Em would pick up on it, and I wasn't disappointed. I watched as his eyes grew large.

"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed excitedly as he clapped his hands together a couple of times. "Dish! Did the two of you fuck last night? I am sooo jealous. Tell your Auntie Em all about it!"

"Hold on, Em," I hastily corrected him as he jiggled up and down on his feet like he had just won a prized lottery. "We were together..." He gasped as I rolled my eyes and held up one hand for him not to jump to conclusions. "...for my sister's birthday dinner, along with my mom and dad." I almost chuckled at the deflated look on his face, almost like I had just told him there had been a death in the family.

He scrunched up his nose in confusion. "For...your sister's birthday dinner? How did THAT happen?"

"Well, it just so happens that that arrogant hotdog surfer is none other than Brian Kinney, my dad's advertising representative. My dad was the one who asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner; I had nothing to do with it."

"OH! Well, it's not what you did with it during dinner that I'm interested in. It's what you did with 'it' afterward," Em said to me with a wink as I couldn't help finally laughing.

"I didn't do anything with 'it,' Em," I informed him. "Sorry to disappoint you." For some reason I didn't want to mention that we HAD kissed, however; I didn't want to contemplate why I wished to keep that a secret. "I have to get over to my station," I advised him as I glanced around.

"He hasn't been here yet, Baby," Em told me softly.

I frowned. "Who?"

He smiled. "You know who. His surfboard is still locked up out back, so I know he hasn't been out here yet."

"That just means he hasn't retrieved his surfboard," I clarified. "It's low tide; he wouldn't be able to use it anyway." Em stared at me with a pointed look, and I knew I wasn't fooling him for one minute. Okay, maybe I was more than a little curious.

"Gotta go," I quickly told him as I turned to leave before I put my foot in my mouth anymore.

"Anything you want me to tell Mr. Hot Stuff if I see him?" he called after me.

I just shook my head no as I heard him laugh softly behind me, feeling my face redden in response. Damn it; the man could embarrass me even when he wasn't here!

Feeling like part of a movie on constant loop, I sat down in my wooden station chair once more, this time taking care to place a beach towel down onto the seat beforehand to ward off the sun's heat. Already, even though it was just barely nine a.m., the sun was beating down mercilessly above the horizon and I could tell it was going to be a hot day. I had been smarter this time, however; I had brought with me a small, plastic cooler filled with several water bottles and even a small, battery operated fan that attached to my chair with a large clamp.

Settling into my seat, I picked up my binoculars to make a tentative sweep of my assigned area, first checking out the water, which was fairly deserted at this early hour, and then lowering my binoculars to take a closer look at the beach nearby. As I aimed my binoculars toward my immediate left, I sucked in a breath as they fell upon a very familiar man, smirking up at me and using his hand to simulate the up and down motion of the waves.

I lowered my binoculars to peer down at him. Today he wasn't wearing his aviator sunglasses, providing me with a better view of his mesmerizing eyes that I remembered so well from last night, and instead of his surfing apparel he had on a simple, white, sleeveless wifebeater shirt and a matching pair of white, linen shorts with a drawstring that hung low on his narrow hips; they were perched just high enough to be 'legal,' but still cause all sorts of vivid fantasies to filter into my mind. The color was very flattering against his bronze skin. But then again, I was beginning to think that nothing looked bad on this man. "What do you want, Brian?" I asked as I reached for my water bottle to unscrew it and took a sip.

"Is nude sunbathing allowed here?" he called up to me unexpectedly, so loudly that the few people that were on the beach this early clearly heard what he asked me. He began to pull his top off over his head as I almost choked on my water.

"What are you doing?" I asked him as he threw the shirt down onto the sand and I saw him grasp the waistband on his shorts as if he were going to pull them down, too. "You can't do that!"

His grin widened as he tightened the string around his shorts and peered up at me innocently. "What? Tighten the drawstring? You wouldn't want my shorts to fall down, would you?"

I heard a few people snicker nearby as I glared at him. Was this going to be a daily occurrence? The Brian and Justin Comedy Show with me as the straight man? "Very funny, Brian," I growled. "Why don't you go find another barracuda to play with?"

Brian laughed. "Barracuda; that's a new one. I kind of like it, though."

I rolled my eyes; it figured. "Brian, go away; I have a job to do here...For people that really do need help."

"Ouch. Hey, I was just trying to be nice, Gidget. What time do you get a lunch break?"

I huffed. What part of no does this man not understand? "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, thank you. And remind me, by the way, to tell my dad to quit stocking that God-awful DVD at the gift shop. A cross between a girl and a midget? Wow, you really know how to impress a guy." I watched, my heart thumping, as Brian limberly swung himself up onto the lower steps and began to advance toward my chair. "Get down from there; it's for authorized personnel only."

He smirked. "What are you, the beach gestapo?" Before I could say "cowabunga," he was standing on the platform next to my chair.

"You are fucking unbelievable," I growled as I folded my arms across my chest.

"I know," he told me instantly with a grin as he walked over and rested both hands on either side of my chair to stare down at me. He leaned in so there were only a few inches separating us, and I couldn't help thinking as I stared into his face how much I would love to sketch him - after he fucked the living daylights out of me. He was glorious looking.

"You didn't answer my question, Justin."

I blinked, realizing I had spaced out briefly. "What question?"

He smirked as I glared back at him over his overconfidence. "About lunch. What time do you eat?"

"I'm a big boy," I shot back, my heart pounding in my chest over his nearness. "Believe it or not, I can get something to eat all by myself."

Brian sighed at me. "You are one damn stubborn boy, do you know that? I'm trying to be civil here and you're being an ass."

"I am NOT a boy," I growled, feeling insulted, even though I had just used the same term myself. Not only was I a Gidget now, but apparently I was a little kid, too. "Will you kindly leave? It's a little hard to see what's going on with your body blocking my view. Go find a stingray and play with it," I suggested helpfully.

To my consternation, that only seemed to encourage him more as he chuckled at my response. "Don't worry; I like a challenge," he told me with a grin. "I'll just come back at noon; you have to eat sometime."

I shrugged. "It's an open beach," I told him as I reached toward my sun blocker lying on the ledge next to me, trying to ignore him but finding it impossible. I couldn't quite reach it, though, with this tall, muscular roadblock impeding my way. "Do you mind? I need to put some sun blocker on before I turn into a lobster."

He turned to snag the tube from the ledge, but held it just out of my reach as I grabbed for it. "You're impossible!" I told him, my eyes flashing. "Give me the damn sun blocker - now."

"Turn around," he told me; a surprising soft tone to his voice.

"What?"

"I said - turn around and I'll do you."

"Excuse me?" I stammered, feeling my face turning red at the thought.

He smiled at my reaction. "Turn around and I'll put some of this on your back," he explained more clearly as he rolled his tongue into his cheek.

"I'm perfectly capable of..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Justin Taylor! You are the most obstinate...I'm just trying to help you! Is it so hard to accept help from someone?"

I sighed; perhaps he was right. I was actually surprised that I hadn't had a sunburn from yesterday's escapade; of course, it was ironic that the one person who would have caused me to get sunburned was the same person offering to help prevent it now. But nevertheless, I decided I could use the help, and no one else was around at the moment. "Okay," I finally said. "But then you have to leave; civilians are not allowed up here."

Brian promptly stood up and saluted me. "Yes, Sir, Dudley!" he briskly told me with his smirk back in place.

I couldn't help grinning at him then over his antics as he waggled his eyebrows back at me. "Asshole," I muttered, but there was no sting in my words. "Well, I guess that's better than being called Gidget." He backed away enough to allow me to stand up to face him.

"Turn around," he ordered me softly as I did as I was told. I could hear the top of the tube being opened and then set back down before I felt a pair of amazingly warm hands touching my shoulders, palms down. I could feel the adrenalin rushing through my veins as he began to slowly slide his slickened hands over the curve of my shoulders and then down my upper arms with surprising gentleness, slowly and sensually, his fingers kneading my skin right above my elbows as he worked the lotion in. I closed my eyes tightly shut to somehow try and fight against the emotions swirling inside me, but I knew it was a losing battle. I repositioned my feet a little farther apart as Brian's hands moved down to my wrists, kneading them with his thumbs as he crept toward my fingers, taking a moment to intertwine them with his own.

"Brian..."

"Hmmm?"

"I can reach my hands. My back?" I reminded him.

I heard a light chuckle sound behind me before he released his grip and I heard him squirting some more lotion onto his hands. I held my breath for a moment until I felt the warmth return, this time to my upper back. My breathing hitched as his hands slowly traveled down my upper back toward my waist, his hands so strong and sure as they glided down my skin. I bit down on my lower lip as I felt his hands travel to the small of my back, inexplicably feeling exposed and vulnerable. My eyes suddenly bulged as I felt his fingers slipping underneath my swim trunks, right above the curve of my ass, and I jumped away from him, praying he wouldn't take my clothing along with him. Fortunately I managed somehow to retain my dignity - and my swim trunks - intact as I turned around to tell him, "I think that's good enough."

"For whom?" he asked me with that God-awful smirk of his again.

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you," I told him coolly as I tugged my swim trunks up a little higher. "But I think I can take it from here." I blushed as his eyes crept from my face to do a thorough sweep of my body, lingering around my groin before he lifted his gaze to meet mine.

He nodded. "What time did you say you take your lunch break?"

I sighed. "I didn't." The insufferable man just continued to stand there as if he were glued to the floor before I finally muttered, "One o'clock."

"What was that?"

"I said...ONE O'CLOCK!"

"Oh," he replied, curling his lips under in amusement. "Well, okay then, Gidget; you didn't have to shout," he told me as I huffed in exasperation. He walked over to swing himself over the side of the railing to descend, but just before he began to lower himself, he told me with that cocky expression of his, "By the way, I meant what I said in the note earlier. Later."

I prayed for a flock of seagulls just then to let forth with a shit bomb from above, but it didn't happen as I told him, "Go! Go before I change my fucking mind!"

With one last grin, he finally disappeared from my line of sight, leaving me to question whether I had finally lost all sense of sanity. One thing was for certain, however; my lunch would be a whole lot more interesting now than the tuna sandwich I had placed in my cooler earlier.