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True to his word, he doesn’t make me do anything sexual. He hasn’t even tried anything, although when he holds me close at night, I can feel that hard part of him pressing against my butt, letting me know that he wants to.
Instead, he taunts me with light touches and caresses, sweet kisses. He tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead at random moments. A touch on my waist here. A kiss on my shoulder there.
He worships me with his eyes and makes it so I can’t hate him.
The ass.
When he goes to work during the week, I’m left alone, though I’m not locked up or anything. Our deal was a mutual agreement, and I know what’s at stake, so there’s no fear that I’ll run out on him.
I sit on his balcony and listen to the sounds of the waves crashing on the shoreline. I walk along the beach. I swim in the ocean. I lay out in the sand and let the sun kiss my skin, bronzing it even more and bleaching my hair an even lighter blonde.
I think about calling my mother, but I don’t. I don’t have a cell phone, but Dane has a phone in his home. I don’t think he’d mind, but it’s not that. I just can’t talk to her. I don’t know what Dane told her, but I can’t lie to her, and somehow I can’t fathom telling her the truth of what I’m doing to save the building—even though I’m not really doing anything but giving Dane my time. I’m not selling my body, so it’s not like I’m prostituting myself out. Somehow it feels like if I tell Mom, she’ll see it the same way, though.
So I don’t tell her.
I’m irritated with myself that I actually look forward to when Dane gets home. It’s almost like we’re playing house. He walks in, kisses me, and then either cooks dinner himself or orders out. Sometimes, he picks out one of the ridiculously fancy dresses bought for me and takes me out. I’ve never eaten or dressed as well as I have while staying with him.
I almost feel guilty, thinking of how everyone else who lives in our apartment building back home scrapes by, eating ramen noodles, and I’m eating at five-star restaurants that serve seafood to die for. How I’m lazing my days away in luxury and spending my nights with one of Florida’s sexiest bachelors and he’s not even asking anything sexual in return while they’re slaving away working as maids and waitresses just to make ends meet.
This is what I’m pondering as I walk along the beach, feeling the wet sand sinking under my toes with every step I take. I’m so engrossed in my thoughts that I don’t notice the tall form walking up to me until he’s already upon me.
“Summer!” Logan says my name in pleasant surprise.
I look up at my old high school friend. His blonde hair is mussed from the wind, and he’s so tan and handsome he looks like a living Ken doll.
Logan and I have been friends forever. He’s like the big brother I never had, and I can’t stop the smile that blooms across my face when I see him. “Logan!”
He holds his arms out for a hug, and I throw myself into his arms, hugging his neck tight.
His hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me in for a big bear hug.
“Where’ve you been, bumble bee?” Logan’s always called me that ever since we were in elementary school.
“I haven’t seen you at a game in a couple of weeks,” he goes on. “What are you doing way up here on this part of the beach?”
Logan’s used to me always being on the span of beach outside the apartment where I live. I’m usually always there on my time off playing volleyball with them. I’m sure a lot of our friends have noticed my absence.
“Oh, I,” I trip over my words, wondering what to tell him. I don’t want to tell him the truth, but I also don’t want to lie to one of my best friends.
Logan reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ears, but then I hear something like a growl behind me.
Logan drop his hand from my waist and lowers the hand that tucked my hair behind my ear as he looks at something over my shoulder. I turn around to see Dane standing there, looming over both of us. Logan is tall and athletic, but Dane is even taller and even more buff. He’s the darkness to Logan’s light, and he looks like some sort of dark angel right now with his dark hair falling forward onto his forehead that’s wrinkled with his scowl, his eyes flashing fire.
He’s in his navy blue swimming trunks, and his chest is bare, so I can see the tension in every muscle of his chest.
“Summer,” Dane says my name, and his voice is like a whip cracking onto me.
I look up at him, but he’s not looking at me. His hardened eyes are still staring at Logan.
Logan’s looking back at him in confusion. “Summer, who’s—“ Logan begins, but Dane cuts him off.
“Her boyfriend,” he says stepping halfway in front of me to shield me from Logan, though there’s no need. Logan is my friend.
My mouth drops open in shock at Dane’s pronouncement, and Logan looks equally shocked.
Neither of us is the given the chance to say anything else, though, because Dane wraps a hard, possessive arm around my waist and resolutely begins to march me back to the condo he lives in.
He’s holding me so firmly against him and taking such huge strides that I can’t turn around to see Logan, though I’m sure if I turned to see my friend, he’d probably still be standing there in shock and puzzlement at Dane’s bizarre and barbaric behavior.
