“Sure you don’t want a bite?” she asks. “It’s almost gone. Last chance to take me up on this amazing offer for some authentic cock salad.” She wiggles a forkful in front of me.
Relenting, I lean slightly toward her and open my mouth. Our eyes catch as she brings the utensil to my lips, and I accept her offering.
“Mmm,” I groan. The chopped vegetables and conch meat are well seasoned with a spicy-sweet dressing that surprises me. “You’re right, it does have a good mouth feel.”
She laughs and sets the empty bowl on the sand. Gazing out at the water, we sit in amicable silence, just soaking up the atmosphere. After a few minutes, I subtly glance over at her and notice her fingers drawing figure eights in the sand, her nails a glossy red. My cock gives an involuntary twitch. Nothing screams sex, power, and confidence in a woman more than the color red.
I force myself to look away and get my animal instincts under control. Maybe I’ll walk into town after work later and see if I can find somebody to bring back to my suite. I’ve clearly got some unchecked testosterone that needs to be released.
“You must be thinking about work, Mr. Scowl. You’ve got that serious look on your face again.”
“Work is the farthest thing from my mind, actually.”
Our eyes lock again, and this time the flare of heat between us is undeniable.
She licks her lips, and then takes a breath. “I?—”
A cell phone rings, breaking the tension, and she mumbles a flustered apology as she digs the phone out of her pocket.
“Hey, you. I’m just sitting on the beach having my lunch,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “Happy hour? Yeah, I’ll come over. Sounds good. See you in a bit. Bye.”
She ends the call and tucks the phone away. “Sorry. My friend says there’s quite the party going on at Hurricane Sammy’s. I’m gonna go meet her there.”
I force myself not to cringe. Hurricane Sammy’s is a dumb famous tourist bar, a loud and obnoxious place that locals avoid and that I wouldn’t be caught dead in. But I tamp down my inner caveman that wants to tell her she shouldn’t go, that I’ve got some better ideas for how she could spend her evening. She’syoung, she’s on vacation, and she should enjoy her time here however she pleases.
“Have fun,” I say. “It’s good you’re going early, by the way. The place is standing room only by nine every night. It can get a little wild once the dueling pianos get going.”
She arches a brow. “You sound like you know the place well. Would you like to join us?”
“Not my scene. But thanks for the invite.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Digging a hand into her pocket again, she pulls out a tube of lip gloss and then tears off an edge of the takeout container. I watch, amused, as she carefully writes her number on the thick cardboard with the gloss and then hands it to me.
“That’s so you can text me if you change your mind about the bar,” she says.
“Will do.”
She stands up, collecting her trash and shaking sand off her dress. “Well. Off I go. It was nice to meet you, Scowl.”
“You too, Sunshine.”
“Sunshine?” She laughs. “I like that. Hope I see you around.”
I nod, unable to keep myself from watching her walk away.
3
BLAIR
“So how was lunch?”Brooke asks.
“Good. More than good. I got the best conch salad from this great restaurant by the beach…”
I’m about to blurt out the whole story about meeting Scowl, but something stops me. I’m not sure what it is. Maybe I just like having a secret for now. Plus, I know the second I start going over all the details with Brooke, I’ll be overanalyzing every look and line of conversation. I’d rather just let the butterflies I have last as long as possible without worrying that I only imagined the spark I felt.
“How about you? Good massage?” I ask, steering the focus back to her. “You’ve definitely got a glow about you.”
