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She pulls my shorts back and looks down.
“Satisfied?” I say deadpanned.
“Nope, I think I need some hands-on investigation,” she adds with a wink as she sits up and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Oh, don’t you worry. We are going to have plenty of time for that, all week long.”
“Good. Now, go get my masseuse. I really do need a massage,” she whines.
“As you wish, princess,” I say. I press a quick kiss to her lips before leaving her to enjoy her spa treatment.
* * *
“I can’t believeyou surprised me,” Grant says as he leans back in his chaise lounge and stares out at the ocean. He upgraded us to two villas that share a private pool area and come complete with a butler. The insane opulence of Grant and Harrison’s lives still makes me uncomfortable at times. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun, but it’s always over the top.
“Champagne wishes and caviar dreams,” Harrison retorts.
Grant laughs and leans over to kiss his boyfriend. I turn to watch Reagan emerging from the lap pool. Her wet hair is smooth against her face. The water glistens as it runs down her pale skin. She’s perfect in every way.
“Fuck!” she cries out as she tips forward. I hop off my chair and reach her just in time as she crashes down to the cement.
“I got you,” I whisper. She smiles up at me.
“My hero,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“That’s it,” I reply as I pick her up and toss her back into the pool.
She squeals before going under. Quickly resurfacing, she glares at me. “Not funny,” she says with a pouty look on her face.
Grant laughs. “It was sort of funny.”
Her glare turns in his direction, and he raises his champagne flute. She flicks him off and proceeds to get out of the pool.
“Tomorrow is our last day, what should we do?” she asks.
I have ideas, lots of ideas, but Harrison sits up and points down at the marina.
“Sunset cruise,” he suggests.
Reagan shrugs and looks in my direction. “What do you think?”
We’ve done about every activity over the last few days. Golf. Cooking class. Spa treatment. Snorkeling. I had wanted to spend some time alone with Reagan, but when she turns to me with a face that says, “yes, we need to do this,” it’s hard to say no.
“Sure,” I agree. Little does she know, I am totally down for this, even if it means sharing her with our friends. Operation alone time with Reagan will commence after tomorrow. It took pulling many strings to get her boss to agree, but I’ve extended our stay by three more days.
Grant calls for our butler who arranges the outing. It’s the most “Grant” thing ever.
“All set,” he announces when he gets the confirmation email. “We leave at four thirty tomorrow.”
I pull Reagan down onto my lap and kiss the side of her neck. “I wonder what we should do tonight?” I whisper against her earlobe.
I watch her skin dot with goose bumps.
“I don’t know. Any ideas?” she replies coyly.
I stand up and toss her over my shoulder, slapping her behind. “We’ll see you guys later,” I announce as I carry her into our villa.
Grant and Harrison’s laughter follows us as I close the sliding door and shut the curtains before tossing Reagan on the giant bed.
