Those words have me speechless for far too long. I try not to think about it. He just wants me to go with him so we can get food that I like, too.
“We can do that tomorrow,” I say. “We’re ordering food tonight.” I pat his chest and step out of his grip to tear my shirt off over my head.
When I’m completely naked, I turn to face Aliko and find him still fully clothed and staring at me.
“I thought we were going swimming?”
He nods, licking his lips as his gaze goes to my cock.
“Aliko,” I scold. “Stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
“A very attractive piece of meat,” he adds.
I laugh, shaking my head as I walk out of the room.
“Hurry up or I’ll go without you!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
I look around the house as I wait for him to get out of his clothes, which takes less than a minute. As expected, everything is coastal themed in light blues and coral. Seahorses and shells hang on the walls, along with oil paintings of beaches. In the bathroom, there’s a painting of a cartoon palm tree with the words “wash your palms” beneath it. It’s cute and cozy. Not at all Aliko, but it’s near the ocean, and that’s all he cares about.
Aliko finds me in the kitchen, smirking as he walks by. I take him in, very rarely getting to see him naked like this—just walking around. I enjoy seeing him when he’s hard and ready to fuck me, but I also like being able to see him like this. Normally. Not sexually. Like I would if we did this all the time—shared space. Lived together.
He opens the door and steps out into the sun. I follow after him, the sand hot and soft under my feet. It’s a short enough distance to the beach that it’s convenient, but far enough that when I’m halfway there, I feel too exposed being naked, even though we’re surrounded by trees and the house.
Anyone who has walked in sand knows how annoying it is, but Aliko walks through it like he was made for it, even though his feet are very much human. When he reaches the surf, he stops at the edge, looking down at his feet. I stop a good distance away, giving him this moment.
It’s been months since he’s felt the ocean. This is important for him. I don’t want to ruin it. So I let my heels sink deeper into the sand and the hot sun beat down on my back while Aliko does what he needs to do.
He takes one step forward, his foot sinking into the wet sand as the water rolls out. When it covers his foot, his shoulders loosen, dropping a few inches at least. He takes another step soboth of his feet are covered when the waves come up again, and then he keeps going until he’s knee deep. That’s when he turns back to look at me, squinting against the sun.
“Are you coming?” he calls out.
My chest warms and I move forward until I’m at his side. His hand takes mine, our fingers locking easily, despite the size difference. I look down at them, at how perfect they look together.
“This is perfect,” he says.
I want to think he’s talking about me, about us, but really he just means the water.
Right? Of course he means the water.
“Come on,” he says softly, taking a step forward. I go with him until we’re waist deep—well, he’s waist deep and I’m well past my belly button. The waves crash against us, droplets splashing on my face, the salt hitting my tongue.
I feel the tension in Aliko—the eagerness to go. I let go of his hand.
He looks down at me, frowning.
“Go,” I say. “I know you want to.”
“We’re doing this together.”
I shake my head. “Yes, but no. You need this. And as much as I love swimming, the ocean freaks me out a little.”
“What? Why?”
“I can’t see what’s under there. What if I kick a fish? Step on a crab? Swim through a jellyfish’s tentacles?”
“That burns.”
