Emma.

Emma strolled languorously towards the small group surrounding the day's winner in the men's pro surfing competition. Her bell-shaped hips swung slowly side to side under the tight sheath of her see-through wrap as she stalked towards her prey. She checked Derek Britedeck out over the wide-rimmed glass of champagne she sipped, like a panther sizing up it's next meal.

As she stood on the periphery of the circle of well-wishers, the buxom brunette studied the handsome surfer from a closer vantage point than she had earlier, a floor up, through some borrowed binoculars.

The two meter plus man looked from person to person as he answered their questions and accepted their congratulations. His deep blue eyes glimmered in the warm glow of the after party lights as he listened intently to fan after fan, brushing his dark shoulder-length hair back away from his face as he nodded to their questions. Emma could see the defined cleavage of his chest muscles in the gap of his partially unbuttoned shirt. She also couldn't help but notice the healthy bulge at the front of his otherwise loosely fitted slacks, after the crowd parted enough for her to survey that low.

As her brown eyes drifted back up to the source of the conversation, she saw him glancing back at her. She flushed a little at the idea of being caught checking out his package. Emma saw him grin back at her and give a little wink as he finished up his conversation.

Emma was surprised to realize she was suddenly standing alone with the good-looking surfer. Composing herself, she took another sip of champagne to help boost her confidence and stepped up to him.

"Mr. Britedeck! You're certainly very popular!" Emma smiled, all white teeth and wide kissable lips.

"Derek, please!" he smiled back wolfishly, pausing to take a sip from the Toohey's longneck that had been at his side. "Just doing my part for the sponsors," he answered.
"You're pretty popular yourself,.. Emma, I believe it is."

Emma seemed slightly taken aback that he knew her name as well, but proceeded confidently. "How so, Derek?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Me and the lads make it a habit to be at the sponsors' table for the annual bikini pageant. You and your friend were certainly the class of the field. She's quite the little surfer as well," he gestured over to where Robyn was giggling with Larry at a small candlelit table.

"It's her passion," Emma smiled wistfully at the otherwise engaged Robyn for a moment. "I love surfing as well, but, for her.." the brunette tried to find words.

"A soul surfer, eh?" Derek said with understanding.

"Yeah, I guess you would call her that," Emma responded softly. "But, let's talk about you."

"That's my favorite subject!" Derek laughed.

Emma grasped the strong hand of the surfer and led him over by one of the beachside doors as she proceeded. "Popular, handsome, world-traveler, you seem to have it all. Bet you don't want for much, do you?" she asked with a devilish grin as they were obscured by the blowing fronds of the potted palms between them and the dining area.