We walk to another stand, and she says I should stop her, but seeing longing in her face is something I cannot deal with. So instead, I just watch for signs that she wants something, and most of the time, I buy it for her, some she tries to buy herself.
“Stop spending so much on me.”
I pin her with an intent stare. “I’d spend the last dollar to my name on you.”
The only thing that matters to me is her happiness. And I guess she is. A radiant smile remains plastered on her face for the rest of the trip.
We take selfies in front of a waterfall.
We kiss at the foot of a volcano.
When we return to the villa, she can barely keep her eyes open.
I help her shower, knowing with every second my chances of fucking her drain away.
By the time I walk out of the bathroom, her light snores fill the room.
I chuckle, going to bed with her.
Tomorrow, she’s all mine.
NINETEEN
LILLY
Sunrays dance on my eyelids,and my eyes pop open, not wanting to lose a single moment of this perfect reality—better than any dream or fantasy I could have imagined.
The curtains dance in the light breeze, and I pull myself up against the headboard.
My gaze moves to him. Ian’s fast asleep, his chiseled chest rising and falling with deep breaths. My chest expands with feelings for him—the life-altering kind. I am in love with him—utterly, undeniably, incommensurable. There’s no point denying when my heart sings all the love songs for him, humming even unwritten ones.
My heart constricts, knowing I have him for now, but once we return, then what? Go back to pretending? I’m not sure if I can do that. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for him—this all-encompassing love. It fills up my lungs that I breathe him in and out of me in an endless cycle. I am sure I never will be the same for anyone else—he’s my person, my other half.
Suddenly emotional, I roll out of bed, tiptoeing outside not to wake him up. I brought several swimsuits with me, but I am mostlynaked. Our villa is the most secluded one, giving us unobstructed privacy. No one can peer inside. He’s not the sharing type. And neither am I.
Diving in the pool, I thread my arms and legs through the water, doing a few laps.
I miss him next to me, even though he’s only a few feet away. He’s a magnet drawing me in. Ignoring his pull is impossible.
I feel him long before he makes his presence known. It’s as if the air carries his essence, enveloping my senses from all directions.
I tilt my head and see him at the edge of the pool in all his naked glory. His body is pure male perfection: tall, ripped, imposing. He rakes a hand through his hair, arranging it into a sexy mess.
My eyes trail over him, drool gathering in my mouth. Stretching his arms above his head, he dives into the pool and swims underneath, surfacing right next to me.
He cages me between his strong arms. There’s no escape, not for my body nor my heart. I am trapped in his midnight blues, losing myself in this fascinating man.
“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he says in a low, gruff tone, telling of his need.
I feel the same.
Craning my neck, I palm his face. “I wanted to let you sleep longer.”
“I prefer to wake up to you.”
I brush my nose against his, caressing along the stubble. “What am I going to do with you, Ian?”
He purses his lip in a hard line sketched with frustration.
