I wipe the water from my face, smooth my hair, and fix my shirt, then walk out to the deck and check the table.
A white cloth covers the well-loved wooden table, while the glow from flickering candles reflects off elegant silver plate covers keeping lobster warm beneath.
“Fantastic job, Louis.” I slap my old friend on the back as he sprinkles the last of the rose petals around the table.
“My pleasure, Owen.”
I offer him a tip, and he leaves with a wave, taking his Seaside Serenademeal packaging with him. Guilt hits me as I take in the perfect date-night setup he’s created in a place filled with so many of my favorite childhood memories. I need to tell him and his parents about the plans for the resort. It was supposed to happen this week, with Eloise, but after talking to Charlotte and spending time here again, nostalgia has set in.
The thought of changing this place doesn’t sit well with me like it used to.
I hear the blow dryer in the bedroom switch off, bringing me back to the present.
The anticipation in my belly is uncomfortable, knotting and twisting, turning me inside out. I’m desperate for her.
She walks out wearing that dress.
All my thoughts go to the dressing room and seeing her come undone in the mirror.
I want to see it again, this time while I’m inside her.
She looks toward the deck and notices the romantic dinner set for two. “Are we eating in tonight?”
“I don’t think I can be around you in that dress for very long without making a mess in my pants again. That could be embarrassing.”
“You should probably take them off then.”
My mouth pops open in shock at her flirty confidence. “Mrs. Phillips, are you propositioning me?”
She reaches behind her back and slowly tugs down her zipper as she backs into the bedroom.
I follow her, like a moth to a flame, tugging my belt loose and whipping my shirt up and off my body.
She’s on the bed in lace underwear so sheer I can see the dark tint of her areolae and thin black strip of hair between her thighs.
My cock starts leaking like a tap in my briefs. I cup my crotch and squeeze my shaft, needing friction. “Fuck, you’ve got my body revved up like a horny teenager.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and the color blooms on the rest of her body. She’s going to kill me with that blush. I’m on her a second later, pressing her flat into the bed and rocking against her.
“I need you.”
“Touch me.” She whimpers into my mouth. “Touch me until this ache goes away and I stop wanting you.”
I still, her words stabbing into my heart. “You don’t want me?”
Fuck. I sound vulnerable and needy, the same as every other time when I found out it was my money, not me, that a woman wanted. Those same insecurities come rushing back.
Am I the only one feeling this?
Is Charlotte playing me? Is she stringing me along just to make sure that her dad gets to keep the money I invested in the business?
The money is his. I wouldn’t take it back.
I also wouldn’t have agreed to marry one of his daughters if he hadn’t been too stubborn to let someone who wasn’t family invest in the business.
But it was his stubbornness that led me to Charlotte.
I want to tell her that I know, that when I said I want her, I meant it.
