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8
Walt
After breakfast, everyone more or less migrates onto the beach for the day. The radio starts pumping terrible music, cans of beer are already cracking open. I talk to some of my more distant relatives, trying to reestablish myself as a member of the family, but for the fucking life of me, I can’t take my eyes off Coco.
She hasn’t looked at me once since our encounter at breakfast. It’s like she’s washed her hands of me. Moved on. That’s what I asked her to do, isn’t it? I didn’t realize the outcome would cause me actual, physical pain. All my life, I’ve stayed away from serious relationships with women, afraid they would get too clingy and expect too much time that I’d already devoted to work.
But Coco? God help me, I want her to be standing beside me right now, cuddled up into my side. Never leaving me. I want to hold her hand at all times. Want the freedom to drag her off back to my room for a nasty afternoon bang that leaves her passed out in my arms.
I want to be her man. Her protector. Her Daddy.
And Jesus, I want that pussy so bad, I’m losing my mind not knowing how it feels to be inside of her. She took matters into her own hands this morning and I still haven’t recovered. I’ll never salvage my concentration from hearing that soft moan through the door, knowing paradise is one knock away and being too stubborn to take it. I’m sorely regretting it right now.
That’s when she strips down and drops her shorts.
Son of a bitch.
I thought I had regrets before, but they’re nothing compared to the tidal wave of remorse that hits me now. Her shorts were hiding a high-cut thong, a pink bow at the small of her back that sends my testosterone to the moon. Her ass is smooth and high with a nice amount of shake. I’d like to grind it into the mattress of my hotel bed while she whines and scratches at my back. No woman has ever affected me in any remarkable way—but this college girl, my granddaughter’s best friend, has me dripping come into my shorts.
You could be her Daddy.
She offered you the privilege.
I’m distracted when I hear a conversation between three of Wanda’s cousins pick up to my right. “All right, my dudes, which lucky man is hitting that?”
“My dick is very aware that it isn’t me. Someone has to be tapping her, though. Otherwise, life is just cruel. That is a body made for men to enjoy.”
“I don’t know, man. Heard a rumor that she’s a good girl, if you know what I mean.”
“Fuck off. A virgin?” A long groan sets my teeth on edge. “That does it, I’m going in for the kill. I’ve never bagged a virgin. Dying to know how tight it is.”
“Screw you, I’m calling dibs.”
“I am, too,” says the third cousin.
I’m going to murder all three of them and bury them right here on this beach. I’m seconds away from explaining to these relations of mine that they couldn’t please Coco’s needs to save their lives. That they would regret coming within a hundred feet of her. That if they so much as breathe in her direction, I’ll snap their puny torsos like twigs. But third cousin keeps going, speaking excitedly with the genius of his idea.
“How about this? Swim contest.” He looks out over the water, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “Whoever touches the buoy and makes it back to shore first gets to shoot their shot, no competition from the other two.”
“Done.”
“I’m going to smoke you both.”
“I’m going to smoke all three of you,” I hear myself say, already whipping off my shirt and kicking off my flip flops. “And before I beat all of your asses, here’s a good lesson for you three idiots. You don’t just choose a woman. She has to choose you back.”
They all turn red and stammer apologies, but I suspect they only regret that I was within earshot of their slimy conversation.
I throw down my T-shirt. “Are we racing or not?”
The young men exchange glances. “Does that mean…are you competing for her?”
I don’t have to compete. She already picked me.
In my entire military career, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a headier sense of accomplishment. Coco. Is she the best thing that has ever happened to me?
Damn, she just might be. Yes.
“I don’t compete for women.” My heart is pounding in my ears. “Like I said, she has to choose you. I’m just saving her from having to listen to your weak game. Let’s go.”
