But I’ve never regretted my choice to save the land from being overdeveloped. I knew a huge hotel was wrong for this place back then, just as I do now. And as I park the scooter in the shadow of the jungle, as I take the winding path beneath the trees towards my home, I know in my heart it was the right decision.
I head for the ocean side of the house, hoping Jade might be there. She loves to sit on the veranda, watching the waves roll in. I need her, I realise. I want the peace I can find in her arms. She told me she’d help me, and I believe in her. I also have to believe in the council, that they’ll do the right thing.
As I round the corner of the house, all my troubled thoughts leave me. Candles glimmer, little pools of golden light among deep purple shadows, some on the floor, others on the small side tables. And lying on the sofa, gazing out to sea, is Jade. She lifts her head when I come around the corner, then stretches, like a cat.
Holy shit.
She’s wearing a lacy crochet dress, the weave loose enough to show me that there’s nothing underneath it, her rosy-pink nipples straining at the top. She smiles when she sees me looking, reaching out one graceful arm.
I pull my shirt over my head, drop my trousers, and walk towards her. She smells like flowers, her mouth hot against mine as I lean into her kiss, my hands already exploring her curves, pulling up the hem of her dress. I drop to my knees before her, wanting to worship this woman the way she deserves. She opens her thighs, an invitation.
I accept, bending my head, trailing my tongue down her, tasting her wetness as though it’s the sweetest nectar. I suck on her clit until she’s writhing and gasping, lick her down to her opening, fuck her with my tongue. She cries out, shuddering against me as she comes, all heat and wetness, none of the tension I felt the first time I did this. I kiss up her stomach, squeeze her nipples through the crochet dress, pulling down the neckline to take them in my mouth. Her hands reach for me, guiding my cock to where she wants it to be. I slip my tongue in her mouth as I slide inside her, joining us, a perfect circle of desire.
I thrust into her, over and over, as her sighs mingle with those of the ocean and I know something.
This woman is my home. She is my solace, my shelter after the storm. As long as we’re together, everything will be all right.
ChapterThirty-Two
Jade
Iwake up and check my phone. Nothing from Zach, thank god, but I’m becoming increasingly aware that I’ve been away for a while, and that my time on Sembuh will soon be coming to an end. Axel is still sleeping, on his back, his muscular body relaxed. I know it almost as well as I know my own, every inch of him kissed or licked or caressed, yet I still can’t get enough of him.
It’s been a week since he took me to the artisan centre. I suppose I should have taken up Mish’s invitation, especially as I’ll be leaving soon, but I don’t think this will be my last time on the island. I’ve seen her, anyway, out in the surf; I’d finally taken Dora’s board back out, unable to resist the pull of perfect curling blue waves, the hiss and sting of salt against my skin. We ended up bobbing out back of the break together, talking about surfing, before taking turns to ride the waves into shore. I don’t know that I completely trust her, still, but it felt nice to try and mend things. It was good to be in the water, too; my leg felt fine but, more importantly, so did my heart. I found that girl again, the one I thought was lost to me, who surfs for the love of the waves, for the joy it brings. The sea is part of me, and always will be.
But I always return to Axel’s arms, to his kisses.
I scroll through my messages and notifications. I posted an image, a few days ago. Just a shot of the point and the waves rolling in, nothing to identify the place. A short caption. “Taking time out before the next big wave.” That’s all. No tags, no sponsors mentioned, nothing. It still had tens of thousands of likes. Sol has been in touch, checking in to make sure I’ll be at the next competition in a couple of weeks’ time. I’ve been non-committal, citing my leg injury, even though it’s fine now.
The fact is, I don’t want to leave this place.
Or Axel.
I come to a decision. Before I can think too much about it, I message Sol.
My leg still isn’t great. I need to pull out of the next comp. Hope you understand.
I press send, then roll over, putting my phone down and pushing the covers back. I lie there for a moment, letting my decision wash over me. I rarely, if ever, miss competitions. Only if I’m really unwell. I have to let Manny know, too, but I think he, out of almost everyone I know, will understand.
I know that my time on the island is almost at an end. But I’m not ready for it to be. Not yet. This is another choice I’m making for me. Maybe I’m just trying to delay the inevitable, ignore the curl of apprehension at the knowledge that, at some point in the near future, I have to go back to the real world and keep working, for as long as I can. I mean, yes. This is definitely what I’m doing. But for now I want to enjoy Axel, and my time here.
I feel better than I can ever remember feeling, as though I’m fully present for the first time in years. A lot of it is because I’ve taken the time to face up to the realities of my own life. Because I’ve allowed myself to focus on what I want, on what makes me happy. And it’s pretty simple, really. Good surf, good food, great sex. And Axel.
My stomach growls, and I wonder what time it is. Breakfast time, certainly. I lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then slide from the bed. A cool breeze is coming off the ocean, the long muslin curtains billowing. I wander into Axel’s wardrobe, looking for a T-shirt. I could wear one of mine, but something about wearing clothing that’s also touched his skin seems far sexier. I already feel as though he’s part of me, cannot imagine my life without him. It’s terrifying and wonderful at the same time. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but if he would rather stay here, I’ll keep his secret. Return here whenever I can, to his arms, to his bed. I’m so glad I don’t have to leave as soon as I thought I did. Yes, the world is waiting for me. But it can wait a little longer.
I rummage through the chest of drawers, releasing a hint of Axel’s bonfire scent, mixed with fresh laundry. I pause to breathe it in. I cannot get enough of this man.
I slip on a navy-blue T-shirt, long enough to cover my ass, then go to close the drawer when something catches my eye. It’s the edge of a photograph. I recognise the front veranda of Axel’s house. I pull it out, then wish I hadn’t.
It’s Axel. And a young woman. Her hair is long and dark brown, the same colour as her eyes, and she’s wearing one of those perfect Victorian lacy-style slip dresses. She’s gorgeous. She’s leaning back against Axel, who has his arm around her shoulders. Her hands are resting on his muscled forearm, and they’re both smiling. And on the ring finger of her left hand is a rather large diamond ring.
Fuck.
I turn the photograph over. On the back is a message.
I’ll love you forever. Susie.
The handwriting is looping and feminine, a heart and two kisses underneath the message.
