My pulse vibrates through my whole body, making me quiver as I stare at the worn, faded fabric. I slowly unclip my bra, letting it drop to the floor.
Shaky hands find the hem of my knickers, and I shimmy them down over my knees before bending to my ankles tounhook them from my feet. Max groans at the sight of me bent and bare. My legs are like jelly.
I straighten. It takes a few breaths of encouragement for me to start swaying my naked body from side to side. My arms stretch up and I curve my neck, staring at the light flickering through the curtains. I can't see him, but I sure as hell can feel him—everywhere. It's a sensual beat I dance to—slow and rhythmic with a bass that beats in time with my heart. In this moment, I remember the feel of his eyes on me by the poolside as he'd watched me, each sway of my breasts and movement of my backside. This time, I welcome the feeling of his gaze.
As the song ends, I turn around, my stomach fluttering at the sight of his clenched jaw and smouldering eyes. Eyes that have the power to physically penetrate a girl. My pulse is in a frenzy now. Unable to hold his gaze and maintain my composure, I bat my eyes close and rub the beads of sweat on my skin, coating myself. My hands find my nipples. My quivering abdomen. My needy clit.
"Don't stop." I hear a loud exhale and when I open my eyes, he's gripping his erection. His bicep bulges as he draws his hand up and down. "Keep going."
His breathing becomes jagged. I'm more turned on than I've ever been, watching him seated in the shadows and stroking his magnificent penis while he studies me as I tremble and tease my clit. I moan. He bites back a violent grunt.
"Come here!" he growls. I hurry to close the gap between us, and he takes a fistful of my hair. Forcing me onto my knees, he shoves his erection into my mouth. He shoots hot cum into the back of my throat. His pumping motion is such a turn on, and I fumble to find my clit again, press down on it and come wildly with him.
Plan B
When we get backto the villa, everyone has already turned in for the night, so we make love in his bed. He might not call it making love, but I do. There is no other definition that suits our speed, tenderness, and level of intimacy. He falls asleep on his side with one arm slung over my waist and his head between my breasts. I watch him sleep, his breathing even and smooth in his slumber.
When I wake up in the morning, Max is gone. He's left a note on his bedside table, which reads,
'I fucked up the other night. I didn't wrap up. We can't do that. If you're not on the pill, take these. M.'
Beside it, there is a small blue box with two pills inside it.
Looking at them, I feel a small knot start to grow in my stomach. Even though him taking care of a mistakewe both willingly participated in is sweet and responsible, I'd have liked him to have given the pills to me in person.
Because this way makes me feel a little empty inside.
I'll be fine.
Rolling around in his soft sheets, I tangle myself up, stroking the slight divot his body has left in the mattress. It's Clay's buck's party today, which means I need to pack an overnight bag and move into the other villa, so they have privacy for whatever shenanigans they have organised. Unease slithers into me; I hate that it does.
I take the first pill. The other is to be taken in twelve hours, so I set an alarm on my phone.
I spend the day alone by the main pool, drinking cocktails and reading all about the origin of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Swim. Eat. Sunbathe. For an hour, I practise my choreography for tomorrow night under the cabana. It doesn't bother me that people are watching. It's no different from doing yoga or tai chi in the park on a Sunday or working out at the gym.
When it gets dark, the staff begin lighting citronella lanterns. The thick, hot atmosphere relaxes my muscles and I roll onto my belly, nestling into the cushions.
Slowly, I fall asleep and dream of Max touching me. His hands against my skin. His fingers between my legs. His tongue on my nipple. I can almost feel him, becoming so needy and wet that I wake up. When I open my eyes, it's completely dark and I'm panting.
I stare down at my phone, lying on the sunbed beside me, flashing with a message.
I read a text from a mystery number and frown at the screen.
Unknown Number: You're a beautiful dancer.
Sitting straight up, I scan the area for Max or anyone whose eyes might be on me. I shift in the bed and feel a sudden urge to find the villa. I text back, hoping that it's Max. Hoping that he'd stopped by for a while to watch me dance by the poolside. Hoping that there is nothing sinister about this message.
Cassidy: Who is this?
Collecting my things, I ask a lovely Balinese lady to show me where we are staying tonight. As she leads me down the steps, I peer across the valley that drops between the two mountains. Tropical trees seem to disappear down into the dark and then reappear on the other side, climbing back up in a similar formation. When I stumble on a step, I decide to focus back on the path.
A rock rolls behind me. My neck prickles and a tingling sensation moves through me. I spin, squinting up the steps and to the side and through the trees—nothing.
You're being paranoid.
I follow quietly behind the lady to the new villa, my pulse a little faster than normal. Once inside, I push the latch across, locking the door. "Flick?" I look around the villa. It's much smaller than the other one. "Stacey?"
