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I ease it over her hips.

And suck in a breath of air.

She’s not wearing panties.

Nothing. Not ever a tiny lace thong. Her pussy is shaved clean, and her clit is glistening.

Oh. My. God.

I quickly ease the dress off her legs until it’s sitting next to us in a puddle of white.

“Commando,” I say huskily.

“I’d already showered. Thought I was going to bed, but then something called to me.”

“What?”

“The ocean, I think. Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“I think maybe it was you, Scotty.”

I smile, glide my finger across her lower lip. “You think?”

“I suppose it sounds silly.”

“Not silly to me. I think I made it pretty clear I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You did. But…I have no right to drag you into something I can’t finish.”

“Baby,” I say, “all we need to think about finishing is tonight.” I kiss her again. Hard.

She wraps her arms around me, and I roll on top of her, bracing myself so I don’t crush her. She’s naked beneath me, the sand cushioning us. My dick prods through my board shorts. Her pussy—only the thin fabric of my shorts separates my dick from her honey.

“Em…”

“Hmmm…”

“Tell me to stop now. Please. If you can’t go through with this, you have to tell me now.”

“Don’t stop,” she says on a breath. “Please don’t stop. Take me, Scotty. Take me away from the cruel world.”

“I’m not an escape, Em. But I can take you away for this moment.” I move off of her quickly, remove my shorts, grab a condom out of my pocket, and sheath myself.

Then I move on top of her once more. “You sure?” I ask.

“Yes, Scotty. Please.”

I thrust into her heat.

A groan begins deep in my soul and flows outward as I cushion myself within Emily’s tight pussy.

My God.

It’s like she was made for me.

Every other woman I’ve ever had suddenly disappears from my mind.

There’s only Em. My wonderful pretty girl. Em. Emily.

Emily Moreno.

And I vow, as soon as I plunge into her, that I’ll keep her safe.

Safe from whatever she’s running from.

Safe from whatever she’s hiding.

Safe.

Safe and comforted in my arms.

I pull out, thrust back in. Pull out, thrust back in.

“Scotty,” she gasps. “Please. Scotty, please.”

I thrust again and again, kneeing into the sand. “Em. God, you feel good.”

“So long,” she breathes. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt so… Felt so… Ah!” She clamps around my dick.

God, a woman’s climax never felt so good.

“That’s it, baby. Come. Come for me.”

She shrieks, but it doesn’t matter. No one can hear us all the way out here.

“That’s it,” I say. “Keep coming. Keep coming.”

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

And—

“Fuck!” I clench my teeth as I release inside her warmth.

Each pulse sends a quiver through my heart, through my soul.

And I wonder…

I wonder…if I’ll ever feel this whole again.

15

Emily

I’m lost.

So lost in a sea of pleasure and happiness.

In the air, the breeze blows around us, and the sea roars in the distance, until—

“Oh!” The ocean rolls toward us, envelops us in the warm Pacific saltwater.

“Wow,” Scotty says. “I couldn’t have planned that any better.”

I laugh, though I’m still quivering from the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced.

Is it the tropical island? Is it the man above me? Is it the fact that we just acted out a scene in From Here to Eternity with perfection?

Is it the fact that I’m running?

Probably a little of each.

Mostly it’s Scotty.

Scotty, who gave me comfort. Who let me decide.

Who let me escape, if only for a few timeless moments, into his world of joy and lovemaking and tropical breezes.

“I don’t want to move from this place,” I say. “Not ever.”

“No need to be in any hurry,” he says.

“You have to work in the morning.”

“That’s still a few hours from now.”

“What about sleep?”

“Sleep? Who needs it? I’ll forgo sleep for the rest of your stay if it means I get to spend every minute with you.”

Nice line.

I don’t say it.

Because it’s not a line. Scotty is sincere. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

This man won’t harm me.

Sure, it’s an island fling.

It’s not forever.

But it’s now.

And now is all that matters.

We watch the sun rise together. If only I had my palette and a canvas. The blues and oranges and yellows and purples spiral together in a kaleidoscope of color as the sun eases over the horizon, hazing through a few scattered clouds that look like white cotton candy.

“I hate to be a party pooper,” Scotty says, “but we’re going to need some hydration.

He’s not wrong. Even in this tropical humidity, I’m feeling dry. The last thing I drank was the beer several hours ago, and that was hardly thirst quenching.

I sigh. “I don’t want to leave.”

“We can come back tonight.”

“Can we?”

“Of course! You think I’m letting you go after that? Tell me it was as mind-numbing for you as it was for me.”

“More,” I say.

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