Page 83 of The Prodigal Twin


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Now, we’re finally in Santorini and I can do what I love to do the most, go to the beach.

“Where are you going dressed like that?” Walt asks.

“The beach.” I answer with a frown. “Are you not coming?”

Walt glares at my two-piece yellow bikini swimsuit. I grab the yellow pleated skirt and slip it on and grab my beach bag.

“You call that cover-up?” He asks. “I swear you’re trying to drive me insane.”

“You want me to wear jeans at the beach?” I laugh, shaking my head.

“Yes.” Walt sits on the bed as he slips his shirt off, changing for the beach, I hope.

I climb on the bed and straddle him, pushing him down the bed as I grind my body on him. “You’re coming with me, right?”

Walt’s hands rest on my waist. “Always. Now, let’s go so we can come back and have lunch. We’ve accomplished breakfast in Santorini.” His voice drops showing he’s turned on thinking about how he spread me across the breakfast table and ate me out then when he ruined me for life, he placed his plate of eggs, bacon, and whatever else on the spot in between my legs then ate like I wasn’t lying there trying to find where my soul just traveled to because of Walt’s tongue.

“You cannot do what you did this morning. I won’t be able to leave the room. I want to go to the beach, baby.” I pout.

“Fuck, you’re cute. Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

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