“Tell me you want this,” he says, voice wrecked.
“I want this,” I tell him truthfully. I want him to let go and treat me like all I mean to him is sex. That’s all this is for a week. Sex.
He lets out one long pained moan before coming all over my stomach. The heat of his release rockets through me, making me close my eyes out of relief. I stand there, frozen, unable to move at all, until the soft caress of a loofah brushes against my skin. My eyes blink open to find him washing me off with his own loofah and body wash.
I get the feeling I’m in for a wild ride this week for which I wasn’t properly prepared. The man before me is not what I expected. He is soft and gentle but at other times there’s an underlying meanness to him. A dominance that I never knew I craved.
Time will tell if I escape unscathed.
The bookstore isn’t farfrom the beach house. Colby’s Jeep rumbles down the coastal highway and I feel free sitting beside him. With the top off the Jeep, the wind whips through my hair,no doubt making my curls unmanageable and messy. The car is a manual, so I spend most of my time watching Colby change gears. It’s kind of sexy. That’s a lie. It’sreallysexy watching a hot man use the stick shift.
After he parks the car in a small lot by the beach, he hops out and runs over to eagerly open my door for me. With a hopeful grin, he holds his hand out to help me climb out of the Jeep. His hand is warm and large, easily enveloping my own, and he doesn’t let go even as we cross the street to the bookstore.
Colby ushers me into the quaint beachside bookstore with a possessive hand on the small of my back. This man definitely likes to touch and he doesn’t care if anyone in this town sees. He abruptly stops at the entrance of the store.
Colby gestures for me to peruse the store. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
I take his hand into my own and start down one of the aisles. He’s a quiet presence beside me as I look through the small selection in the store. I grab a new fantasy novel I’ve been meaning to read and hand it to Colby. We go up and down the aisles like that until he can no longer hold my hand due to having such a large stack of books.
“You’ll read these all in a week?” he questions me, a frown on his beautiful face.
I shrug effortlessly. “I’m a fast reader.”
He follows me into the children’s section with an even more confused look on his face. “What are we looking for in this section?”
“You’ll see,” I tell him with a teasing smile.
I always look for a certain book in bookstores. My mother lovesThe Wind in the Willowsand I always grab a copy when I see it. I let out a triumphant whoop when I find a copy on the bottom shelf, tucked away in the corner. It’s a gorgeous version,with an illustrated sleeve, and a deep lilac hardcover. Neither of us has this one yet. A total win.
“What’s that?”
I hold it out to him. “The Wind in the Willows.”
“Never read it,” Colby says, taking a closer look at the cover.
“Ah,” I sigh softly. “It’s one of my absolute favorites. I have this thing with my mom where I buy a copy whenever I see it and send a picture to her so she knows I’m thinking about her. She does the same thing.”
Colby beams down at me. “I love that.”
I add the book to the precarious stack in his hands and nod towards the register. “Alright, husband, time to make the purchase.”
He makes a show of carrying the stack to the register. The girl at the counter rings them up with a smile at us.
“Planning to get a lot of reading done on your vacation?” she asks conversationally while popping a bubble of gum.
“If I let him,” Colby tells her before I can even attempt to answer.
I notice for the first time that there’s a tan line on his finger where a wedding band would’ve rested. I wonder if he’s married and this is an escape for him. It’s not quite my business, I’m being paid, but I always hate the idea of someone cheating with me. I never want to cause someone that type of pain. It’s not my business though, so I won’t ask. I glance away from his hand just in time to avoid being caught. He smiles at me as he pays, then takes the heavy canvas bag from the cashier.
“Should we get lunch in town?”
I look towards the restaurants, then back over my shoulder. “Let’s go back to the house. I’d rather spend the day alone with you on the beach.”
That clearly makes him happy because he aims a pleased-as-punch grin my way. On the way back to the beach house he turnsthe radio on, some rock station with songs from when I was a kid echoing through the speakers. I watch as his fingers tap the tune against the steering wheel. He pulls into the garage of the beach house, grabs the books, and comes around to open my door again.
“Colby,” I say as I take his hand but don’t get out of the Jeep.
“Yeah?”
