He was staring at me, drinking me in. I twirled, dropping my lipstick on the dresser, and his lips parted slightly, reflexively, those beautiful eyes darkening, going black with desire.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
I smiled as I walked to him. “You too.”
He lifted my hand to his lips. They were cold, and so were his fingertips. I couldn’t help noticing the slight shake in his hand, too. My heart thudded against my ribs louder than the engine of the boat approaching.
“Our ride is here.” He ambled toward the bed and picked the sandals matching my dress up off the floor. Then he nodded at the glass door. “Let’s go.”
I followed his steps before my thoughts rambled again. On the boat, a nervous smile crossed his face as sweat beaded his forehead, and I could no longer lie to myself about the nature of tonight’s surprise.
His hand squeezed mine tighter when we arrived at a local dancing club in San Pedro. Perched over the water with no walls. A host in a long colorful skirt and white sleeveless shirt offered us the two glasses of champagne on his tray before ushering us to our booth. Even though the club was packed, we weren’t mobbed by fans and photographers as always. People didn’t seem to know or care who we were. That and the cool sea breeze took the edge off my nerves. Just enough not to freak out already.
I watched other couples take the dance floor as the live band shifted to a slower song. People were dressed up for the night. The tables, the bar and the stage were illuminating with colorful light strings.
“Do you like it?” Mike asked, his fingers drawing invisible circles on my bare knee.
It’s the perfect setting. Nowhere to run.I nodded, taking my first sip of alcohol in weeks. Since I’d arrived on the island—my island—I didn’t feel the urge to escape from my feelings or to shut out the world.
I should have been the happiest girl on earth. Mike Gennaro wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, loving me, and I wanted that, too. My happily ever after could start this very night. Yet there was something, not about Mike, that scared me. A feeling that snuck underneath all the certainty and the love.
That stupid voice wouldn’t shut up. It nagged like an old wound that refused to heal. Reflexively, I felt my scar.
I wasn’t wired to believe such happiness Mike was going to offer existed in the first place, and it was only a matter of time before it would be snatched out of my heart without mercy. Which one hurt the least? Not having it at all or having it and then brutally losing it?
Mike’s fingers traveled up my thigh, distracting me for a second. “You’re nervous.” His lips curved. “Do you want me to do something about it?”
I blinked at the insinuation. “Here? We’re surrounded by people.”
He pressed his leg closely to my thigh. “So?”
My heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I gulped on the champagne as his palm pushed up the slit of the dress. “How fast do you think I can make you come?”
My skin burned. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”
“I say three minutes. Do you wanna bet?”
“No.” I shook my head quickly. It wasn’t hard to guess what he would have asked for had he won. And he would win.
“Too bad.” He smiled as he set a timer on his phone with his free hand and placed it back in his pocket. Then he slipped beneath the soaked lace of my thong and slid his thumb over my clit, sinking into my wetness. His groan drove me crazy. “I wanna spread you on this table and eat your pussy for dinner.”
I stared at him, at the narrowing of his eyes, at his tongue licking his lips.
“Yes, look at me.” His confident, firm touch built a heavy ache down my sex. “I wanna bury my face between your legs and fuck you with my mouth until I hear you scream my name and taste the moment you fall apart for me.”
I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. He leaned to kiss my neck below my ear. The wetness of his tongue sent a fresh gush between my legs. When he leaned back, from the corner of my eye, I saw a waiter coming our way.
“Mike?” I swallowed, torn between focusing on his touch and fretting about the man coming toward our table.
Mike didn’t stop, his index and middle finger vibrating inside me. “Look at him, he doesn’t know you’re about to come all over my fingers.”
“Oh my God.” I gasped for air, clutching the muscles of his thigh. Wrong move. The muscles hard and firm, and they made me think of my palm covering his cock.
He flashed his signature smile at the waiter as he refilled the champagne glasses.
“Your food should be out in five minutes like you asked Mr. Gennaro.”
“Thanks.” Mike pressed his thumb hard into my clit, and I bit my tongue, stifling a moan.
