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“Spencer,” Percival signs, snapping me out of my reverie. “I have another surprise for you.”
“Really?” I ask, my heart racing with anticipation. “You’re like Mary Poppins, with a bag full of surprises. What is it?”
“You’ll see,” he teases, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
“Can you at least give me a hint?” I plead, curiosity piqued.
“Nope,” he replies, shaking his head playfully. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”
A grin pulls my lips up, thoroughly enjoying the sense of awe that colors our every interaction. With each new discovery, Percival’s world seems to grow more vibrant, and I find myself longing to be a part of it—even if only for a little while.
As the sun slips below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the Neptune Terrace, Percival leads me to a secluded spot overlooking the ocean. I gasp in awe as my eyes take in the stunning scene before me: a beautiful table adorned with flickering candles and delicate white roses, all set against the backdrop of the starry night sky.
“Is this for us?” I sign, unable to contain my amazement.
“Of course,” Percival responds, his smile broadening. “I wanted our dinner to be as magnificent as the rest of our day.”
My heart swells with gratitude, and I try to wrap my mind around how I ever got so lucky to have met someone like him. As we take our seats, a gentle sea breeze rustles the leaves above us, carrying with it the scent of saltwater and blooming jasmine.
“Spencer,” Percival signs, he’s becoming better and better. His dark eyes twinkling in the twilight. “This place is incredible, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” I reply, my gaze drifting past the ornate Neptune Pool and out toward the endless expanse of ocean beyond. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”
“Neither have I,” he admits, reaching across the table to gently touch my hand. “And I’m glad we get to share it together.”
The warmth of his touch sends shivers down my spine, reminding me just how much our connection has grown over the course of these past several days. And yet, I can’t shake the nagging feeling that our time together is fleeting, that our vastly different worlds will soon come crashing back down around us.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” Percival asks with concern etched across his face. “You seem lost in thought.”
“Nothing, really.” I force a smile, unwilling to let my fears taint this perfect moment. “I’m just… overwhelmed by all of this.”
“Good overwhelmed, I hope?”
“Definitely,” I assure him, my smile genuine this time. “I can’t thank you enough for today. It’s been a dream come true.”
“Today is just the beginning, Spencer,” he promises, his eyes locked on mine with unwavering sincerity. “There’s so much more I want to show you.”
“Even if our time is limited?” I ask, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.
“Especially then,” he replies, squeezing my hand gently. “We’ll make the most of every moment, wherever our journey takes us.”
As Percival speaks, I find myself believing in the possibility of a future beyond our differences transcend the boundaries of our worlds. And as we savor our dinner under the stars, laughter, and conversation filling the air around us, I hold onto that hope—that somehow, our story will continue to unfold against all odds.
Chapter Twenty
Percival
Theengineofmyblack Porsche roars as I push the gas, the wind whipping through my hair. A grin turns my lips up—oh, how I’ve missed this exhilarating speed. My heart races in anticipation of what’s to come.
As we race towards the B&B, the picturesque coastline stretches out alongside us.
“Your hand is freezing!” I say, as our fingers entwine on the center console. Her skin is soft and delicate, but her grip is firm. It’s a sensation I never knew I craved until now.
“Yours is like a furnace,” she retorts. “It’s nice.”
“Ha! I always knew I was hot stuff.” I give her a wink, but inside, my thoughts are racing. Touching her like this, it’s so intimate, so thrilling. I want more, my cock right now is hard as a rod, but I don’t want to push her away. Hell, I owe her my life—I can’t just waltz in and take what I want without giving something back.
“Speaking of hot stuff,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, why don’t you ever wear a shirt in private?”
