He pulls back and grins. His smile is dazzling. Where is my prickly dive instructor? Who is this chatty guy who wants toget to knowme?
I can’t ask him that. So I ask the next thing that pops into my head.
“How long have you lived here?”
“Over three years.”
I whistle. I thought a month seemed long. Three years on an island you can walk across the whole of in an afternoon. He must really love it here.
“What did you do before you came here?” I ask. I only have the roughest outline of the man who has occupied so much of my thoughts.
“Worked on boats, mostly. I grew up in Sydney but I used to lead dive tours on liveaboards in Cairns.” He looks out at the surf as he says it, crunching on a potato chip.
“That’s where the Great Barrier Reef is, right? Do you miss it?” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and pop a slice of mango in my mouth. “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
“Nah, there’s nothing for me there.” He scrapes some tuna onto a cracker and eats it, still looking at the ocean. His voice is heavy.
“There’s nothing for me back home either,” I sigh.
“I doubt that.” He turns toward me, eyes dark with concern. It feels like he can see right through me, but we’re just getting to know each other.
I don’t want to explain. He doesn’t seem like the type to just follow the current, and I don’t want him to think badly of me for basically treading water my entire life.
So I move closer. I don’t mind the smell of fish on his breath. I don’t mind anything about him at all.
The scruff of his beard scrapes my chin as I tilt my face up. He towers over me when we’re standing, but from this angle on the blanket, he’s almost approachable. I want to capture his chin between my teeth, but I restrain my cute aggression, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, instead.
He coughs, pulling away as if he’s shy. “Junie, I’d like to spend the next few weeks with you. I feel very…”
“What do you feel?” I ask, when the silence begins to stretch. My stomach knots with tension.
He swallows, but can’t seem to find the words. I narrow my eyes. I want to be bold.
“You’re so hot and cold. Do you not know what you want?”
“I know what I want,” he says hoarsely. A vein throbs in his temple.
“Then take it. I dare you.”
He growls as he reaches for me, wrapping his arm around my small frame and pinning me beneath him. I push the picnic out of the way and clench my legs around his thighs as he presses his searing lips to my throat, my chest.
As usual on the island, I’m wearing a bathing suit beneath my clothes. He unbuttons my shirt to expose the bikini, licking devilishly around the edges of my tan lines, making me squirm beneath him. I want less barriers between us. But once again, we’re out in public in broad daylight.
He unbuttons my shorts and there’s only a small strip of fabric between his big hands and my aching core. I’m so wet for him, and I desperately want him to know. The pads of his fingers graze against my bottoms as he kneads my thighs. My body arches instinctively, grinding against his knuckles.
He chuckles, a low sound that coils in my belly. My instinct is to grow shy—is he laughing at my neediness? The way I’m falling apart for him so quickly? But then his thumb dips below the lining of my bottoms, grazes my slick lips and swirls around my throbbing clit. I gasp as all thoughts of embarrassment or shame fly from my mind.
Just as quickly, he sits up, stealing the warmth of his body and leaving me dazed and confused. My chest heaves with fast, shallow breaths. He watches me carefully as he lifts his thumb to his mouth, then sucks the taste of me off his finger.
“Fuck Junie. This isn’t slow. We can’t do this here.”
“Should we go somewhere else?” I ask, every muscle of my body taut and begging for more. Who gives a shit about slow when it feels so good?
“Yes,” he says, eyes flickering with lust as they rake over my body. “But I brought you here because I wanted to show you something.”
“Right now?” I squeak. I could kill him. The moment we find a bedroom and a modicum of privacy, I’m going to fuck his brains out.
I realize for the first time that I have no idea where he lives. The thought is distracting enough to help clear my mind.
