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AMALIE
Isavor my very first piña colada, the really sweet and verystrongbeverage that’s a perfect complement to the bright Ibiza sunshine. The moment I find myself thinking I'm ready for a second one, a man appears with perfect timing. The sun is now eclipsed by his eight-pack abs and tan hand that just so happens to be offering me another cup of the creamy, icy drink.
“What a nice surprise.” I offer a smile and glance upwards to find a broad chest with tan skin and blue eyes as clear as the water outside.
“A pretty girl like you should always have a drink in her hand. And that one looked like it was getting a little low. If you don’t remember me, I’m Bradley. You can call me Brad.” He flashes his flawless smile, teeth polished to perfection by the dentistry his daddy's money paid for.
I don't remember him. The majority of the people on this yacht are strangers to me. I'm only here thanks to a friend's spontaneity and my own recklessness. All the hallmarks of a perfect spring break.
“Amalie.” I turn my head as Brad flops onto the empty lounge chair next to me. I hear the sound of my friend Claire shifting on the other side, no doubt wanting a good view of the conversation that's about to unfold. His smile doesn’t falter. “Can I call you Lia?” There’s a clear flirtation in his voice as his eyes sweep over my figure that's stretched across the lounge chair.
For once, I'm glad I put so much effort into my looks today. Of course, I'd never admit that to my mother, who has always been so relentless about diet and fitness, and beauty.
“I prefer Amalie,” I say with a smile, just enough of an edge to my voice to let him know that I’m not going to make itthateasy on him. “You’ll have to get to know me better before we talk about nicknames.”
Now, as Brad’s gaze slides over my perfectly toned body and the black bikini that covers only what absolutely needs to be covered, all the way up to my plump lips and luxurious auburn hair, I’m secretly grateful that my mother encouraged this innate vanity in me.
He wants me. I can tell by the beginnings of a hard-on I spot growing behind his patterned swim trunks. It only becomes more obvious when his gaze settles back on my breasts.
Back in Chicago,all of my mother's worrying about looks felt pointless. She's been
reminding me since I was old enough to hop on a treadmill and pronounceprobioticthat it was my duty, as the Leone family’s second child and only daughter, to entice men. Not just any man, but one with the appropriate wealth and family connections to earn the right to slide a diamond onto my finger, preferably as close to my eighteenth birthday as possible. Never mind that I had ideas about things likegoing to collegeandsexual explorationandtravel and independence. My family—like every other crime family in the upper mid to northeastern States and probably beyond—is permanently stuck in the era of marriage alliances and using their daughters as bargaining chips. I didn’t see the point in my dinner portions being rationed out or the long workout sessions, the biweekly yoga classes, or the countless hours at the spa for facials, manicures, and hair extensions. Why go through all that trouble and wasted time when the man picked for me wouldn’t be marrying me for my looks. He’d be doing it for the association with my family name, our ties to Sicily, and the considerable wealth that would come with me.
I might still be a virgin, but I already know how predictable men can be.
I tilt my glass, letting the last of the creamy drink drip into my mouth, leaving the smallest bit on my lower lip. Brad watches, his gaze glued to my mouth, as I lick it away.
“So, uh—” he swallows, “Howareyou here, anyway? I mean, who—”
To my other side, I hear Claire stifling a giggle.
“Who do I know?” I look at him innocently. It’s such a crass question, and it’s a clear reminder of the divide between me and everyone else here, that difference between new and old money. My family goes back generations, to some of the oldest Sicilian mafia ties, but that wouldn’t mean a thing to these sons and daughters of Silicon Valley venture capitalists, tech billionaires, and celebrities. They talk about content and cryptocurrency and markets like it really matters, like all of that hasn’t made their families rich overnight.
Like it couldn’t all disappear just as easily.
That’s why I like it here, though—part of why I was so quick to jump on Claire’s offer. Here, I’m not the daughter of a mafia boss; I’m just Claire March’s friend, tagging along for her spring break adventure in Ibiza, lucky to be asked.
Also, considering my family’s recent misfortune, I don’t have such a high horse to ride on any longer.
“She knows me.” Claire pipes up, rolling onto her side and propping her elbow up. I see Brad’s gaze slide to her—surreptitiously, and only for a brief second. Claire’s boyfriend is never all that far away, and Brad knows better than to get caught checking her out. Although, with her knife-sharp blonde bob, yoga-taut figure, and perfectly sculpted cheekbones, Claire is worth getting into a bit of trouble to look at. “I invited her. My mother went to college with—”
I let the sound of Claire rattling off her family connections drone into the background briefly, while I take another look at Brad.
Could he be the one?
I made myself a promise before coming here that Ibiza would be where I’d find someone to unburden me of the virginity that I’ve been forced to cling to for so long.
I didn't dare to lose it in Chicago out of fear that the lucky guy I picked might brag, that word would spread back to my family. It was too risky. But here in Ibiza-
Here, no one is going to tell. I can do as I please.
“Do you travel a lot?” Brad scoots a little closer to the edge of his lounge, near enough to me that I can smell his lemony cologne and the scent of sunscreen. “What do you think of Ibiza?”
“I’ve been to Italy a few times. My family has property there.” I stretch out, arms up over my head, arching like a cat in the sun. I can see the twitch of Brad’s cock under those too-thin boardshorts he’s wearing, and I know that he’s mine if I want him. I’m not sure yet, though.You’ve only been here a few days,I remind myself.No need to jump too soon. There’s still most of the vacation left.“But nothing so crazy as this. I had to sneak out, can you believe it? But I couldn’t pass up Claire’s invitation.” I reach for the piña colada that he brought me, pursing my lips around the straw.
“Your parents don’t know you’re here?” Brad’s eyes light up a little—he likes the idea of me being a little rebellious, clearly.If only he knew. “What, you snuck out through the window?”
