Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

she announced as she returned.

    "I thought I was going to be your towel."

    "Take a shower, crazy man."

    Libby laid down on the cool sheets and let the air dry her body as she listened to Tyson whistling in the shower. He was happy. She knew he was happy and she'd contributed to that, to making him feel loved and wanted. There was satisfaction in that knowledge.

    She let herself drift on a tide of elation waiting for his return. She was nearly asleep when he came back, droplets of water running down his skin.

    "Do you mind if I pull the drapes back?" Tyson asked, padding across the floor on bare feet. "I love looking out at the ocean."

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    Libby propped her head up on one hand. His thoughtfulness on asking her only made her love him more.
    "I definitely don't feel anyone hanging around the house. By all means, open the drapes." He looked delicious standing by the window with his hair slicked back and the small beads of water running into intriguing places.

    The view of the shimmering sea was extraordinary. The moon was nearly full and spilled light across the water making it sparkle like a thousand gems.

    "Look at the ocean, baby," Tyson said, opening the wide sliding glass door so the cool night breeze swept into the room. "The moon has such an amazing effect on the water. Do you realize that the sun has only a forty-six percent gravitational force on the earth? That makes the moon the single most important factor for creating tides."

    He turned his head to look at her as she sat up, pushing her midnight black hair from around her face.
    There in the moonlight she looked otherworldly, a little fey, a little bit witch with her enormous eyes, generous mouth and pale skin.

    Libby smiled at him. "The earth and the moon are attracted to one another, like magnets. The moon tries to pull everything on earth to bring it closer, but the earth is able to hold onto everything but water."

    He walked back to her and bent down to kiss her temple before seating himself on the bed beside her, staring out the window. "Water is constantly moving so the earth can't hold onto it." He wrapped his arm around her. "I'm going to hold you still so there's no chance the moon will make a grab for you." He pretended to frown. "You don't fly on a broomstick across the moon, do you?"

    She kept a straight face. "That requires levitation and only Hannah is really adept at that, although Joley might be as well."

    He yanked his arm away, narrowing his eyes, studying her face. "You're lying through your teeth."

    "Am I?"

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    "Why would anyone fly around the moon anyway?" he challenged.

    She shrugged casually. "To make certain the tides are behaving the way they should. That's a witch's job, you know."

    A small smile flirted with his mouth. "And all this time I thought the full moon caused those high and low tides and the quarter moons rendered the tides less dramatic."

    "Did you learn all that in science class? We were already busy making certain the sun and moon lined up for the strong gravitational pull. It was all the Drake sisters." She leaned close to him to rub her face over his shoulder, wanting the skin to skin contact. Her tongue darted out and she caught several drops of water in her mouth. "In case you didn't know, we have a symbiotic relationship with the moon and the sun."

    "I'm just learning so much tonight. It must be like the clown fish and the sea anemone—a very dangerous relationship."

    She nodded seriously.

    His grin turned mischievous and his eyebrow went up, alerting her to a possible trap. "You're aware the clown fish is covered in a slimy mucus and if the mucus gets wiped off before the clown fish returns to the host anemone it will be stung or even killed by the anemone's tentacles. I can't imagine you slimy, but I'm willing to try a little olive oil." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

    "Aw, but then you have it all wrong. We, meaning the Drake sisters, represent the anemone with the tentacles. We send the clown fish out with his bright colors to attract unsuspecting prey." Her hand slid over his bare chest and dropped to his flat stomach where her fingertips began to walk lower. "The clown fish lures our prey back to us and we strike with our tentacles." Her fingers brushed his shaft, stroked teasingly. "We kill and eat our fill and the poor clown fish