We spent the day walking around on the beach, Nick in his sexy as hell low-slung board shorts, looking like a surfer dude, and me in my black-and-white one-piece with matching sarong.I didn’t let Nick and his every hour on the hour sunscreen reapplication get on my nerves too much.I felt like my skin was coated in thick syrup by the end of the day.Leave it to him to find something called Crocodile Sunscreen with SPF 50 and water repellent technology.I broke out laughing when I saw the bottle in the shape of a crocodile.I had to ask if it was safe to use, it looked dangerous.
Later in the evening we went shopping in the local open air market.I bought some things to take back home for everyone.I even bought a colorful little drum for Sasha that you hold in one hand and twist to make the drumming sound.Nick thought it was cute too and bought one for the baby, his first present from his first trip, he said.By the end of the day, I was so exhausted I fell asleep waiting for Nick to get out of the shower.Exhaustion won out over being taken to the brink.
I woke up around ten-thirty the next morning.I was so tired I slept through the entire night.I order breakfast and take a shower before I look for Nick.He left me a note saying he’s in the cabana.I hope he’s not talking business.I feel more relaxed and comfortable today; I’m going to put on my striped pink-and-orange two-piece halter bikini.If I were at home, I wouldn’t wear it, but what the hell, I’m on vacation.If the partially balding guy in the next bungalow with the mullet and bear belly can wear a speedo, no one should have a complaint about the pregnant chick in the two-piece.I won’t see them again anyway.
I put my sunglasses on and make my way down to the cabana across the white sand.It’s beautiful out here today.The sun is shining bright, and it’s a balmy eighty degrees but it’s not an oppressive heat like it will be two months from now in New York when I’m eight months pregnant.I put my hand on my stomach and smile.In three short months, you’ll be here.I wonder who you’ll look like.I hope you have your daddy’s eyes.On second thought, I don’t know if that’s going to be good for the little girls out there.I think your daddy might be right.You might have more testosterone than estrogen with the kicks you’re landing to my stomach.We won’t tell your dad, he’s too self-assured of himself already.I still think there’s a greater chance of you being a girl.
I reach the cabana and all the curtains are down.I step closer and hear Nick talking, he sounds like he’s on the phone.He better not be doing business; he promised me.I brush my hair to the side of my shoulder, take my glasses off, and let the curtain fall behind me when I go in.
“Who are you talking to?”I say with my hands on my hips in an accusatory tone.He sits back in the blue cushioned chair with the phone to his ear, taking a sip of his blood-red iced drink.He tells whoever he’s talking to he’ll see them when he gets home.He puts it on speaker before hanging up.
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, dear.Tell Cat I said hello.”
I press my lips together sheepishly, hearing his mother’s voice chime through the phone.
He turns the phone off, grinning at me.
“Mom says hi.”
I put my glasses on the table next to his drink and a crystal bucket of ice.“I heard.”
“I promised.No business.”
“Yes, you did.”
He sits with his legs wide apart, no shoes no shirt.He takes his glasses off and picks his drink back up with the straw to his lips.I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair and watch the red slushy liquid slide up the straw with one pull of air from his lips.Water beading on the glass running down the sides I swallow the thirst I’m feeling, I wish it was me he was drinking up through that straw with his lips wrapped around me, muscles begging to be touched, all tanned and ripped.I think I’m getting a hot flash.He’s completely relaxed in his chair, watching me under lowered lashes.I take his glass out of his hand and place his straw in my mouth, taking a long sip, knowing he wouldn’t let me if it had a hint of alcohol.
“Don’t you make a pretty picture,” I say, teasingly putting his drink down.
With his hands on the arms of the chair, he rubs his palms against his thighs.
“I’m not going to disagree.Yes, I do.”His eyes rake up my body, and he brushes a finger across my skin on the top of my bikini bottom.
“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night.”
“You don’t need to apologize.If you’re tired I want you to rest.You’re going to need your energy.”
I tilt my head to the side.“Am I?”
“Most definitely,” he says.
“For what?Are we going to surf?”
“Not in your condition.But you are going to ride a massive wave.One that’s going to leave you soaking wet.”
“Why do I have the feeling I’m going to lose my top and my bottoms in this torrential downpour?”
“You are.”
Those two words are said with promise and intent.I’m all for it, ready and willing.
I go between his legs and he turns me around; my back to him, he pulls me down to sit in his lap on his already hard erection.I put my weight down and grind myself against his lap, my hands on his thighs.Putting my hair to the side, he licks the center of my neck.I close my eyes hearing the ice in the glass clink.I suck in a breath, lips parted, when I feel the cold wet ice against my warm skin between Nick’s lips.I moan when the cool trickle of wetness races down the center of my back down my spine.He rubs an erotic wet circle around my skin as I grind on him, eyes slightly closed.When my head falls back, I notice the curtain isn’t closed all the way.The ice in his mouth melts away, and he sucks at the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder with his cool, wet lips.
“Someone might see us,” I say in a low husky voice.
“If they do they’ll turn back around and keep on walking.”
