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two
“Jesus, I never want to go home,” I moan out, stretching my arms out as I soak up the sun. Two weeks’ vacation in this paradise will never be enough. My earbuds fall out, landing on the large towel below me as I tilt my head up, enjoying the heat on my cheeks.
It feels good—like a soft blanket caressing my legs after shaving—good. Like that-first-sip-of-coffee-in-the-morning good.
Delicious. Warm. Relaxing.
“Can we just move here?” my cousin Crystal says from beside me while looking toward the water’s edge.She’s been doing that a lot. Since we got here, her attention has been on a particular area near the shore.
Something, or someone,has piqued her interest, and the way she’s smiling gives her away. “You can go home, Mila. Just tell my mother I’ll send her a postcard every Christmas.”
Flipping my long hair over a shoulder, I raise a brow. “Already found a victim? That was fast, Crissy.”
Out of the two of us, she’s the most outgoing. Open about her needs without being a whore. The girl looks, but doesn’t touch. A virgin who wants it all and doesn’t hide the fact that she’s searching for her one.
While I—I hide my own dreams and live vicariously through the books I read. No man catches my attention. No one makes me want the elusive more that all women dream of.
The kind of relationship that leaves you breathless and completely consumed. You own him, and he steals your breath with each smile.
I want it. I know it’s out there, but I refuse to date a hundred toads to reach my prince. He’ll come, and when he does, my heart will recognize his.
Sitting up on my knees, I reach over and grab my sunscreen. We’ve been at the beach since ten a.m. and the high afternoon rays tell me it’s time to re-lather.
With my back to the water, I pop the cap and pour a healthy amount onto my hands, spreading the lotion over my shoulders and the very top of my breasts.
I feel exposed in the miniature teal bikini she chose for me, but I do admit it fits well. It enhances the curves I’ve been blessed with, but the attention I get in it isn’t something I’m comfortable with.
“It’s not me he wants,” she mumbles low, but I hear her. Grabbing my arm, she tries to pull me around, but I shake her off. “You need to—”
“Do you need help with that?” a deep, warm-like-honey voice says from behind me, and I freeze. Every muscle in my body locks tight, and my skin prickles with electricity. Every molecule in my DNA is set ablaze, and I let out a low whimper.
His scent, warm and with a hint of spice, hits my senses and my nipples become tight. Stiff peaks that throb—the bolt of pleasure travels through my body, settling in my core. I’m aroused. Turned on by a stranger I’ve yet to see.
“Oh shit,” Crissy says from somewhere—at this point, she could be in Alaska and I wouldn’t know. Sense and reality have morphed into a moment stolen in time that I can’t grasp.
My very soul feels the shift. The change in me.
“Look at me, sweetheart.” It’s not a request, and I do so without a single complaint over his command. Grey eyes meet hazel, and I’m lost to him, drown in the hunger I see lying just behind his soft grin.
He’s tall, easily a foot taller than me, and with tattoos. The ink on his skin, a nautical-themed masterpiece, spreads over the left side of his chest and arm. The full sleeve is beautiful, colorful and full of bold lines; it tells a story that I want to unveil piece by piece.
I want to know everything about him. The what, when, and why that brought him to this moment. To me.
This man is gorgeous. The kind of specimen women fantasize about with a sharp jaw, dark hair that’s just a bit long at the top, and playful eyes. Sweet lips that pull up at one corner while he enjoys my perusal.
He’s meant to be worshipped, and I find myself leaning just a bit closer. My hand finds purchase on my towel—keeps my balance on the sand as I shift my body.
“Perfection.” It’s all he says before extending a hand out to me. An invitation. A desire I share with him, and I place my much smaller one in his.
I gasp as a deep feeling of contentment settles within me. There’s no explaining—not enough words to describe what his skin on mine evokes.
It’s right. A coming home I wasn’t ready to admit, much less understand. Nothing makes sense at the moment, but even with the uncertainty of what this means, I don’t run.
This moment causes a shift I’m accepting.
“Hi,” I breathe out, tone soft. My heart is thumping harshly within my chest, and a bead of sweat rolls down the base of my spine.
“How can your voice be so sinfully sweet?” he says, but the question isn’t for me, and it’s the awe in his voice that completely puts me at ease. There’s something cute about the flummoxed expression, the furrow of his brows, and the way he bites his bottom lip. I’m not alone in this—whatever it is. With one tug, he pulls me to my feet and right against his chest. Skin on skin, the heat coming off him brands his essence into my flesh, and I welcome the mark. “What’s your name, beauty?”
