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We’re outside. In the open. I’m naked in the arms of a man whose touch brought me to tears. His arms skim my bare back. Disregarding my mind’s increasing unease, my body proves to be its own and arches into him.
“I could stay like this all night.” He says and I realize he’s still inside of me. I lift my hips and he slips out of me. With a sigh, he starts to rise. He puts me on my feet in front of him. I can’t take my eyes off him, his body is so beautiful. My gaze roams over his chest, and my nipples tingle as if the hair there is still rubbing against them. My eyes fall to his hands and watch him pull the condom off his semi hard cock.
Muscle memory takes over. The moment loses the magic that the music and the ocean created. My body tenses and my brain takes over. This is when I leave. I should go.
“It’s a good thing you had that handy,” I joke. I step into my shorts, I turn around and pull my shirt on over my head.
“Indeed. It’s been in my wallet for months, my sister put it there. I was annoyed, but tonight, I’ve never been more grateful for her meddling.” He reaches for me, a big smile on his face and I step away, pretending to look for my shoes.
“Do you want to go find some real food? I’ve worked up an appetite.” He asks, tucking himself back into his jeans.
His words act like a fire hose on any remaining haze from the fantasy I’d let myself indulge in. And old habits, especially ones that have been a survival mechanism for the last few years, die hard. Anxiety sends my pulse up a few notches as my fight or flight instincts kick in.
All I can think about is my exit. I stick my feet back into flip flops and gather my courage before I look back at him.
“I should get home, it’s late and we’re leaving for Accra tomorrow, I think.” I say with a smile that feels lopsided and I’m sure looks more like a grimace. I’m grateful for the dark shadow dusk has created over us.
“I thought you were here for a few more days.” He says, his voice noticeably cooler and wary. My heart kicks against my chest. Fuck! He knows what I’m doing and it’s pissed him off. I take a deep breath and steady myself.
“Oh yeah, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just…a little out of sorts.” My mind is racing, overwhelmed by what’s just happened. I look at him pleadingly.
“Do you want to eat with me or do you want to go home?” He asks. His tone casual, but each word is weighted with a meaning I understand clearly.
He won’t give me another a chance. If I walk away after what we shared - and we definitely shared something more than a simple fuck - that’ll be it.
So, I have to decide. Right now. I need to weigh my fear of getting carried away and being vulnerable against the chance to enjoy something that was unexpected and amazing. Even if it’s only for a few more days.
I came on vacation to reconnect, to relax and I hadn’t expected any of it to include a handsome, demanding Brit with a dirty mouth who makes want to give him whatever he asks for. But here he is. And I want him.
“I want to eat with you.” I say and his relief is palpable. His shoulders drop a little as the tension rolls off them. His smile returns and he holds his hand out to me. I take it and together, we walk back to the hotel.
13
Harry
My phone beeps, and I force my eyes open. The sun is streaming into my hotel room's window and casts long, soft beams across the bare, beautiful shoulder of the goddess asleep next to me. Last night had been like a dream - a visceral, vivid one. In it, the most beautiful woman in the world bewitched me on a beach at sunset.
I’d brought her home with me afterward and we fucked. Hard and desperate, until neither one of us could move. Our bodies sticky with sweat, our chests heaving, our limbs tangled.
She's lying on her side facing me. I reach out to push the riot of chocolate brown curls that have spilled across her face away. There are copper streaks in it that burn bright in the morning light.
But before I can, I feel the soft scrape of toes tickling the hairs on my shin. My hand tangles in the soft mass of her hair and pushes it away in slow, unhurried strokes. She steals my breath every time I look at her. She’s just so damn lovely. Her eyes are closed and her thick lashes rest on the tops of her cheek bones. Her full, wide mouth is curved into a smile. A deep, gratified sigh escapes her lips when I cup her chin and stroke her cheek with my thumb.
I jerk my hand back, and her eyes pop open.
"You're burning up." I murmur, putting my hand back, this time feeling the light sheen of sweat at her brow.
"I know. I'm sick." She mumbles, "I think it was the food from the beach. You're a heavy sleeper, I got up twice to be sick." She rolls over and groans as if the movement pains her.
"The food? I ate the same thing, I feel fine." I get out of bed and walk quickly to the bathroom. I grab a washcloth and run it under the cold water.
When I get back to her side, she's lying on her back, the flush of fever apparent now. I can see the places on her neck where I sucked hard enough to mark her. The rapid rise of her chest and her compressed lips are signs of the effort she's exerting trying to sit up. My mouth goes dry with worry, but I keep my voice even.
"Hey, let me go downstairs and have them call a doctor." I lay the cool wash cloth on her forehead and she moans, a soft sound of relief.
"Call -" her voice croaks and she stops to clear her throat and lick her lips.
I grab the bottle of water by my bed and sit down, putting it to her mouth so she can sip.
