“Too spicy?” I ask as she drinks.
“Never,” she says breathlessly, setting the bottle down, but her cheeks are flushed with the heat and she immediately takes another long drink of soda. “What is this pepper I’m tasting?”
“Piment antillais,” I tell her. “Habanero. It’s in the batter. They’re generous with it sometimes.”
“As they should be.”
With that, she grabs another fritter and swipes it through the sauce before popping it into her mouth, followed by a big bite of creamy coleslaw to ease the burn.
“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask. “Michelin worthy?”
“Best cock I’ve ever had,” she says with a grin, calling back to our joke on the day we met, though I can’t pretend I don’t know that she’s also complimenting my dick.
“Glad to hear it,” I reply. “Try the lobster roll next. No habaneros in that one.”
Blair digs into the lobster roll without hesitation. And when she makes an appreciative sound for the food deep in her throat, my cock twitches so hard I have to shift in my seat.
Fuck.
I switch my focus back to the food, spearing a couple fried plantains with my fork and shoveling them into my mouth even though they’re hot enough to burn my tongue. She’s so focused on her meal that I don’t think she notices my sudden discomfort. That’s when my phone vibrates with an incoming text from Becker.
How did the Tisdale meeting go? Everything on track?
Fuck you very much for reminding me why I have to behave, sir. I slip the phone into my pocket without texting him back.
Blair sets down the lobster roll and clears her throat. “I, um, feel like I should apologize for not telling you who I was or who my parents are.”
I wave her away. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”
“I know. But this whole thing…with us…it’s not something I’ve done before. I mean, I’m not in the habit of hooking up with strangers on vacation and hiding my identity.” She forces a laugh. “I guess I’m just so used to everyone knowing who my parents are and how much money they have that a little anonymity felt sort of nice.”
“I get it,” I tell her. “No explanation necessary. In fact, we don’t need to talk about it at all. Water under the bridge.”
“Right. Cool.” She hesitates and then goes on, “But I was thinking, Sebastian…” She says my name as if she’s trying it out on her tongue. “This doesn’t have to be over. I’m here for another week, and I’m staying at your hotel…”
But of course it has to be over. Her parents are my clients, and Blair is the commodity. Soon, she’ll be walking down the aisle with a man who can provide for her in every way that counts. I need to shut her down before she convinces me to make even more bad decisions that I’ll have to regret later.
Not that I regret anything I’ve done. I should, though. I know that.
“Let’s just enjoy right now,” I say.
“Yeah. Of course. I just meant?—”
A small shadow falls over the edge of our table, rescuing me from the direction this conversation is heading in. Glancing over, I find an island boy maybe six or seven years old, with an arm full of colorful woven bracelets. Each bracelet has a one-cent coin in the center that has been smoothed flat so most of the markings are removed, stamped with a letter of the alphabet.
The little boy turns his huge brown eyes on Blair, and she visibly melts. Before I can warn her of how quickly children around here can guilt trip you into emptying your wallet, she’s ruffling through the bracelets on the child’s arm to find her letter.
“What letter?” he asks.
“B.”
“I got you.” Flashing a megawatt smile, he immediately finds the correct letter and removes the other bracelets to get to it. Gesturing for her arm, he slips the bracelet over her hand and onto her wrist, pulling the ties so it fits snugly.
Blair oohs and ahhs and the child turns his eyes to me.
“Twenty dollars. Special price.”
It takes an effort to hold my tongue. I could get ten of these bracelets for that price at any of the kitschy souvenir shops along the beach. But knowing that I’m caught hook, line, and sinker, I dig a twenty out and hand it to the kid. He bounces away happily while Blair appreciates her new bauble.
