She drops back to her pillow and watches me intently. “Oh, you want to know now? Regret not giving it a go?”
Giving it a go?As if trying and the resulting failure was an option. Andwhat a way to phrase a rather momentous if clusterfucky moment in every person’s life. “No regrets.” We’ve had that conversation. I did the right thing.
“Some random guy I did a group project with during my final year at hotel school.” She drags her fingernails across my chest, gentle and yet so sensual that my skin prickles in goosebumps. “Patrick something or another.”
Clearly not memorable. And she’d waited at least another year. Why doesthatmake me so freaking happy?
“Well then, Lexi. Here’s the truth of the matter. I’d rather be the guy you remember for the three orgasms he gave you on night one, than Patrick something or another who took your virginity.”
“I see.” She leans closer, her nails stroking across my chest to my shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve got some big plans here. I’ve already had two…but three?Only?”
I laugh outright as I buckle up to please my babes. Fun sex is one thing I know how to have. “How many did you have in mind, my angel?”
“Four. At least. Maybe five?” she whispers, her thigh already sliding over my hip as she presses up.
“Happy to oblige.” I help her up to straddle me with a happy grin, pressing pause on all my wayward thoughts. “No rest for the wicked, is there?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
LEXI
Tristan and I are bleary-eyed after an epic night of more sex than I thought humanly possible, but we’re up and heading to the spa at ten to six in the morning. There’s a comfortable quiet between us as we walk along the dark forest trail, with only shards of metal gray sky visible through the stir of leaves high above. The salty-sweet scent of the sea combined with the earthy mix of tropical forest permeates the air and will always hold the memory of this moment for me as we steal a kiss along the way.
We offer each other glances that speak more than a thousand words.That was fun… Why haven’t we rolled around in the sheets before?And the one that gives me the most pause:Were we made for each other?
Everything came so easy with him, me most of all. Just thinking of it sends sweet tingles of anticipation rushing down my spine, because we’re not done. We’re still here a while and have basically just started.
“You’re good, angel?” Tristan says as he brushes his elbow against my arm. Our hands are full of his camera equipment and a tripod he whipped out of a crate.
“Yep, you?”
“Very good,” he says with a devilish grin. “So how’re we going to do this shoot?”
I think for a few paces. “I’ve been involved in a few room shoots over the years—you know, getting everything perfect for the photographers and models. Plus I’ve been on stand-by during shoots to plump that odd pillow and rearrange the grapes on a fruit platter.” Tristan laughs softly, and I giggle too. “Sounds rather silly, doesn’t it?” I whisper, not wanting to disrupt the quiet magic of this romantic moment.
“No, sounds like you know how to do this, and the bar is going to be high,” he whispers back. It’s as if neither of us wants to let anybody know we’re sneaking off to the spa, although people are already up and about and Tristan usually goes for a morning run, which he’ll miss today. “I hope my photos will be up to scratch.”
“Sure they will. It’s not that hard. We’ll need some product-style photos and some action shots. You know, the usual spa fare.”
“Yes, because I hang out at spas all the time.”
I laugh. The closest Tristan gets to any beauty treatments is a sea-sand scrub. “Let’s see what Deshni and Sarika want. They have an eye for this type of thing and will know what they want highlighted.”
We arrive at the spa to find Roger already there, and it’s clear why: the spa isn’t the way I left it yesterday afternoon. The furniture and massage beds have been rearranged, and a skylight, which I’d been totally unaware off, is opened in the roof, sending a glow of natural sunlight over the interior.
“This lighting is going to be great once the sun is a bit higher,” Tristan says as he takes a look around the space, smiling at Roger. “Well done, man.”
“This is what Desh wanted.”And anything for my girlgoes without saying.
“They had this all on hand?” I ask with a smile, pointing to a display of glass cylinders filled with raw spices the women have put together as props, as well as some dried spices and oils.
Roger looks away. “Don’t tell anybody, but I might have made a trip to Pemba last night.”
Tristan’s eyes grow wide. “For real?”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Roger says with a shrug. “I have my contacts.”
“Of course you do,” Tristan says with a knowing smile as we set his equipment on the spa’s counter.
