I deserve to be happy, and part of me thinks she could be the one to make me happy. The other part of me wants to keep her far, far away from both myself and the curse of my family.
I push it all out of my mind as we wrap up work for the morning. “Want to swing by the excursion desk and get something booked?”
“Are you sure you’re okay with going on these excursions with me when I’ll be posting them to my blog?” she asks.
“Would I prefer to pretend it’s a date with you? Absolutely. But keep me out of the pictures, and it’s fine.”
She tilts her head. “What changed?”
I lift a shoulder, and a shudder runs through me, but I say the words anyway. “My feelings, I guess.”
“How did they change?” she asks, her voice cautious.
I stare at her a long time before I answer. “I’m not sure. But I like you. I like how I feel when I’m with you.And that’s enough for now.” I think about asking her to give this a try outside of here, but something stops me.
Her eyes mist over a little, and she nods. “I agree. Now let’s go book some excursion dates.”
I chuckle, but I lift to a stand and follow her anyway.
We book one a day for the next week. Jet skis one day, a historical tour the next. More snorkeling, a forest hike, an ATV tour, a rum tasting, and a food tour around downtown. We book it all, and then we change into our swimsuits for jet ski day.
We ride together at first, with her behind me as I take control. Her arms are wrapped around my waist, the sun kissing us as water sprays us when I squeeze the throttle too hard.
We laugh as we race through the water, and this feeling like I’m at peace lodges itself in my core. If I’ve held myself back because of my family, or my career, or my lot in life, I’m suddenly not doing that with her.
Out here in the water, she’s focused on the rush of adrenaline, the wind whipping around us, the water spraying our skin, and the sun on our shoulders. And maybe, most of all, the feelings that seem to be growing stronger and stronger between us with each passing moment.
It’s real, and it’s big. It’s terrifying. But it’s conversely also calming and soothing. It’s as thrilling as riding a jet ski, maybe.
I’m not going to want to let it go at the end of this month.
Our lives outside of here don’t intersect. She’s based in Chicago. I’m based in Vegas. I can’t move. She may not want to, and even if she did, I’d be uprooting her to a place where she doesn’t know anybody only to leave her behind while I travel the majority of the time. That’s not any sort of environment to nurture a new relationship.
But if we have each other, maybe we could figure it out.
I push those thoughts out of my mind. I can’t encourage her to live in the moment and then lose myself in the uncertain future. I’d be a hypocrite if I did that.
So I focus on here and now.
If this thing weren’t so wobbly, I’d try to figure out a way to fuck her on top of the jet ski. Instead, we return it when our time is up, and we wade back out into the water. There are people around, so we wade a little further out toward a vacant area. My head is above the water, but she’s treading, unable to stand way out here without going under.
I reach for her and pull her against me. She wraps her legs around my waist, and her mouth drops to mine. It’s so easy, so natural with her. It’s like our bodies were made for one another as instincts kick in, and I’m powerless to fight against it.
I pull back and search her eyes with mine, and I see the need in hers.
I reach down, push her bikini bottoms to the side, and slip my finger into her. She moans and tilts her head back, and fuck, it takes all my power not to pull her top off and suck her tits into my mouth.
Instead, I pull my cock out. I slip my finger out and shove my cock inside her right here in the middle of the ocean, and she drops her head against my shoulder as I fuck her in the water. She clings on around me, and I band one arm around her waist to move her up and down over me as the water pressure tries to force us apart. My other hand moves along her torso up to her tit, and I slip it out of her top. I thumb her nipple before I pinch it, our bodies still moving together.
“God, Archer,” she murmurs, her mouth close to my ear. “I love how you just fuck me anytime, anywhere.”
“Jesus,” I grunt. Her mouth moves to mine, and it’s like we’re the only two people on Earth—certainly the only two people in the ocean.
We’re both aware of what’s going on around us, but we’re in our own little cocoon of privacy here. I press my mouth to hers again, and she starts to thrash over me a bit. Her pussy clamps over me, and I can tell she’s getting close. It’s these little signals, these little details, that tell me how far we’ve come. I know her body now, and she seems to know mine, too. She knows me in ways nobody else ever has, even after only a couple weeks together.
I kiss her with everything I have as I pour myself into these feelings until I feel her body start to contract over me, her moans swallowed by my mouth, me holding her as still as I can.
Her fingertips dig into my skin as she comes, and it’s nearly enough to send me into my own release. I pull out of her before that happens, and she reaches under the water to stroke me the rest of the way off.
