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As I'm engrossed in watching the osprey's elegant flight, a sudden, unexpected jolt of the yacht beneath me throws off my balance.
I stumble backward, the world spinning around me in slow motion. My arms flare out, attempting to grab anything for balance. I find myself gripping onto the fabric of Alex’s shirt, but then he, too, stumbles backward.
“Ahh!” We both shriek as we flop backward onto the lounge chair, our bodies completely intertwined.
Falling on the lounge chair, I can feel his protective hand on the back of my head in an instinctive move. Our bodies somehow manage to fit together snugly. We exchange an astonished glance, with a charged silence hanging in the air, heavy with anticipation. It's like the world around us fades into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of our closeness. I stare at his eyes, looking for something I don’t even realize I’m looking for. There is a deep sense of familiarity in his eyes. Alex remains quiet, showing no discomfort, but then I see his eyes darkening as I bite my bottom lip, trying to make sense of my complex feelings for him.
He doesn’t let me linger in my thoughts. As soon as his gaze lands on my mouth, without a word, our lips meet. The kiss ignites a spark of longing and curiosity in me.
He rolls over so that he hovers above me, his weight pressing down on me gently as he continues to kiss me. His strong hand carefully caresses my cheek as he deepens the kiss, passion flowing through him with every movement.
My lips brush against his, and for a moment, I'm lost in the sensation. It's not just the kiss itself but something deeper, something about the way his lips feel against mine that tugs at the corners of my memory. Then, it hits me like a bolt of lightning.
“Wait,” I say, pulling away slightly.
Alex, breathing heavily, stares down at me with concern. “What is it?”
The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave, washing away any doubts.
It is him.
It's the same guy from the party, the man whose identity I've been unable to uncover. But now, with his lips pressed against mine, there's no doubt.
I know who he is.
“Alex,” I whisper, my voice tinged with astonishment, my heart pounding in my chest. The connection is undeniable, and I suddenly comprehend the magnitude of the situation. The man I've been searching for, the father of my child, is right here, tangled up with me on this lounge chair.
My eyes search Alex's for confirmation, my voice trembling as she asks, “We’ve… done this before, haven’t we?”
My words linger in the air as he stares down at me.
When he hesitates, I ask him outright. “Are you the man from the party?”
Alex’s eyes are filled with a mixture of emotions, and he nods slowly. “Yes, Emily, it's me,” he admits, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity.
My initial shock gives way to a complex swirl of emotions. I feel a surge of panic, a sense of betrayal, and a profound confusion about the two different facets of the man before me.
Is this really him?I wonder, my initial confusion giving way to a simmering anger.But he knew! He knew it was me all along.How could he keep this from me?
And which version of him is the real one?
The passionate, irresistible man from that unforgettable night, or the stern, business-driven figure I've come to know recently?
At least, the truth about my baby's father's identity brings a sense of relief to me, a burden lifted from my shoulders. But I can't bring myself to disclose my pregnancy just yet. That secret remains carefully guarded within me.
Despite the uncertainty and the complex web of emotions, I find myself unable to resist the pull of my heart. Memories of our intense encounter flood my thoughts, and I let myself trust my instinct instead of overanalyzing.
“I guess…we are just drawn to each other,” I murmur, pressing my lips to his once again.
I reach my hand upward and feel the hard, defined abs through the fabric of his shirt. I moan with pleasure as my hands begin to explore his body. I can’t wait for him to take control.
Pressed against the lounge chair, I give myself to him, letting all my inhibitions slide away.
He moves his kisses from my lips to my neck, leaving little pecks along my collarbone. I moan with pleasure, and he slowly takes a hand and grazes my leg, reaching up beneath the fabric of my skirt to gently caress my butt.
“Is this a good idea?” I ask abruptly as if just remembering that we are on the deck of his yacht. I glance from side to side, searching for any prying eyes.
“Probably not,” he admits. “But I don’t think anyone will see us… if you’re quiet.”
