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It’s not like I pulled her hair or anything. It could have been worse. It certainly wasn’t one of my finest moments either. My mom would probably hit me upside the back of my head if she had been there.
I got my love for the sea from my parents who are currently on the open water right now on their annual trip. They go up and down the eastern seaboard, stopping in ports along the way to see friends they’ve made over the years and to enjoy their retirement. They earned it considering Mom was a schoolteacher and Dad worked at Town Hall.
They always loved Candy Cane Key. It’s something they passed down to me, though I found a different way to express my love and preserve my home.
After grilling the fish I caught this afternoon, I’m ready to unwind for a little while at JB’s Bar. If you’re a local, it’s the place to go. It’s certainly not the only watering hole in town, but you know you’ll come across friends and be able to play some pool to wind down.
I tend to avoid the places where the tourists flock. The Candy Cane is a tiki bar and I’m just not a tiki kind of guy. Hey, if that’s your thing—go for it. Most of the tourists will agree with you because they think it’ll give them some sort of authentic island experience. It’s not my scene.
Temperance isn’t bad and sometimes you just need to go somewhere inspired by Hemingway. I’ll go in every once in a while, but for me, JB’s is the best. Who wouldn’t choose a dive bar over anything else?
The moment I walk in, I start to scan the room, expecting to find a few friends to catch up with over a beer…or four. When I take in who is sitting at the bar, my cock is instantly reminded of how much I wanted to have Bristol underneath me writhing in pleasure. Because there she is.
Sitting at my bar.
Drinking something which looks far too fruity for this kind of place.
There’s a big smile on her face while her hazel eyes are big and round while taking everything in.
Like we’re on display for her. Like she’s not just passing through to use my island as a backdrop for some photoshoot for her boss.
My blood starts to boil, and I don’t bother looking around to find anyone I know. It doesn’t matter now. Because she’s here. Right fucking there. Sitting on a stool without a care in the world.
I take deep breaths as I make my way closer to her, knowing, somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m being irrational about this whole thing. Knowing it and stopping it are two totally different things.
When I’m standing right behind her, she stiffens as if sensing how close I am to her. I growl, “What are you doing here?”
Bristol turns around slowly, her eyes almost bugging out of her head, probably at how fucking rude I’m being, as she looks up at me. I should pull it back and get my shit under control, but I’ve always been like a locomotive without breaks when I get going about something.
I’m sure if I saw a therapist, they’d say that shit isn’t healthy. It’s worked for me just fine for the last 30 years, I don’t see why it needs to change now.
Sure, it’s worked except for the fact that any relationship I’ve ever had with a woman ended up crashing and burning and I can count on one hand the number of people I consider to be close friends instead of just someone I’d drink a beer with. Totally working for me.
“Well,” Bristol’s voice is filled with fake cheer which, somehow, I still find charming as hell, “hello to you too, Hayden. How was your afternoon?”
When a fresh beer is placed in front of the empty stool next to my woman, I slide into the seat and take a big swing. Is it to quench my thirst or to stop me from kissing Bristol’s perfectly pouty lips? The world may never know the answer because I have no fucking clue.
Wait.
My woman?
There’re so many things wrong with that and I’m not sure where to start first.
She can’t be mine. I just met her after I talked to her on the phone once. She’s here for work and then she’ll be going back home. Considering I’m not going to be leaving my island any time soon, the whole notion is doomed right from the start.
“My afternoon was great. A little behind schedule,” my words drip with sarcasm as I trail off and shrug one shoulder casually.
Bristol glares at me as she takes a big suck of the fruity monstrosity in her hands from the straw. The way she’s studying me makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and run away with her. Maybe I could take her back to my place? Or my boat.
I’ve never fucked a woman on my boat. It would be a whole new experience. Then I could take her out onto the water for an adventure to convince her not to go back home.
Woah. Nope. I’m not doing any of those things.
I wouldn’t mind kissing her until she clings to me and begs me to fuck her sinfully sexy body though. What man would be stupid enough to pass up her curves?
I saw the way she eyed me this afternoon. I saw the heat there. Granted, it was before I opened my mouth.
“And I’m still sorry I was a little behind schedule,” she retorts, the words sweet, but her tone cutting and haughty. She cocks her head to the side, “Big group to take out or something?”
