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“No,” he ground the words from between his teeth. “There has been enough talking. Enough. Suficiente.” He took a step closer to her, pressing Addie’s back against the wall. “You want to talk about the past; I am sick of it. I am sick of hearing you attempt to explain away what you did. You lied to me, querida…”
“I told you why,” she whispered, as his fingers found the straps of her evening gown and slid between them and her smooth, golden flesh. “I told you about the accident…”
“Yes. But was it the truth? Or another lie?”
She sucked in a harsh breath at his words, anger and fury battling with sadness. “You think I’d make something like that up?”
“I don’t know!” And there was angry desperation in the words. “I never thought you would, but I didn’t know you at all.” He stared at her with abject frustration. “Every word that comes from your beautiful lips makes me doubt it.”
“Don’t,” she whispered urgently, shaking her head and slowly pushing at her dress, her eyes challenging him, imploring him to
listen to what she was sure his heart knew. “You can’t doubt me. You can’t doubt this,” she said softly, as his mouth came to her neck, brushing against the soft flesh there, finding her pulse point and running his tongue along it so that she sucked in a breath of surprise. A breath of need.
“This I do not doubt,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt while his mouth roamed higher, to her cheek, and then across to her lips. “This is all that makes sense,” he kissed the words into her, firing them into her blood and body.
“Because you love me,” she said simply. “That’s why you’re so angry at me, Guy.”
His laugh was derisive. “You’re delusional.”
“No. Why would you be so angry at me if you didn’t love me? You’re hurt. I hurt you. And I’m sorry for that.”
Guy broke away from her, pushing his shirt off his body, freeing himself from the restraint of clothing so Addie could see the way his chest was being torn with each and every hard-drawn breath.
He spun around to face her but Addie was right there. They say fortune favours the brave, and she needed to be brave, just a little longer. She stood on the tips of her toes, so she could brush her lips against his. “Stop fighting me.”
She lifted her hands to either side of his face. “Please, stop fighting me.”
She didn’t know she was crying until a tear landed with a moist thud on the soft, creamy flesh of her breast. But Guy did. He chased it down, his tongue tracing a line from her cheek to her décolletage and lower, to her breasts. He sucked a nipple between his teeth and she cried out, a sob of pleasure and need, of hope, too, because despite everything, Addie was still filled with hope.
Her heart needed to hope or it would wither away for good.
He lifted her easily, scooping her to his chest, her dress still ruched around her waist. But he didn’t carry her below deck. He placed her on the white lounges at the front of the yacht, laying her down and then bringing his mouth back to hers, while he undid his pants. He kicked out of them, his body over hers, his weight a pleasure Addie had been craving for so long.
“Please,” she murmured, and it was a catch-all ‘please’. A need for him to make love to her and love her, to give her everything she so desperately craved.
He answered it. At least, physically, donning protection and sliding inside of her as soon as he could dispense with her underwear, his body making hers stir to a fever pitch, her heart throbbing with pleasure and hope, with a tenuous optimism taking grip of her as a wave of awakening spread across the boat.
“I love you,” she said, her eyes holding his as pleasure made her body fire. “I have loved you all along.”
He said nothing.
They made love beneath the stars, and when she exploded as if moved by their celestial dust, she pushed onto her elbows and kissed him through her pleasure, her tongue dueling with his as her body sapped of strength, and she cried.
She cried for what she hoped would be the dawning of a new day, not just in general, but specifically for them. She had no reason to hope, and yet she did.
*
Addie awoke in her own bed, with no clear recollection of how she’d got there. She was naked, as she’d been on the deck late the night before. No, in the early hours of this same morning. She frowned, reaching first for Guy, and finding him missing, and then for her phone.
It was almost midday. She squawked in surprise and pushed out of the bed, her body aching pleasurably with remembered touches.
Ghosts of his kisses still tingled over her skin and she bit down on her smile. Until she moved to the window and looked out towards the island – and saw another boat instead.
And heard noises. Lots of noises.
She frowned and dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a simple white shirt, not bothering with a bra. She scraped her hair over one shoulder and then moved quickly from her room, looking left and right for Guy as she made her way through the yacht and up on deck.
Staff were everywhere, milling around, cleaning, doing things she presumed were necessary to the maintenance of a yacht such as this. But she wasn’t looking at them, nor for them. Her eyes skimmed over, until she saw a familiar face.
