by L. D. Davis
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to cover the quavering in my voice. “I guess I’m just super excited to be here.”
I got out of the bed, rushed into the bathroom and shut and locked the door. I put the lid down on the toilet and sat down.
“Lily, what’s going on?” Kyle asked from the other side of the door.
“Nothing. I have to pee,” I said and then silently cursed myself for letting my voice crack.
“Baby, open the door,” Kyle said softly.
“My god, Kyle!” I shouted. “Can I please pee in peace! I’ve used public piss rooms all day. I would like to just pee in peace once before I go to sleep for the night!”
There was a moment of silence from the other side, and then finally I heard a loud sigh from him. “Fine. Pee in peace then.”
I heard his footsteps retreat and breathed a sigh of relief. After a minute or so, I flushed the toilet and turned the sink on. I stepped back out into the bedroom a few seconds later. I climbed into bed beside Kyle, but I didn’t move to him like I normally would.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I…” I hesitated. He wasn’t going to stop asking, but if he did then he’d just be pissed. More pissed. “I just need you here with me,” I said softly in the dark.
“What? I am here with you. I’m right next to you.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” I snapped. “I need all of you here with me. You haven’t been yourself since you came back from Jersey. You do all of the things that Kyle does, but you’re not him. I’d prefer you to be a dick than to pretend to be here when you’re not.”
He was very quiet for a long time. I thought he had fallen asleep, so with a sigh, I rolled onto my side to try to force my racing mind to go to sleep. Kyle shifted behind me and then I felt his arm around my waist and his breath on my neck.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
“Are you sure?” I asked after a moment.
“I promise.”
“What is wrong?” My question was a plea.
“Lily, I’m here—with you, so nothing is wrong.”
When I didn’t respond, he rolled me onto my back. By the light of the moon I could see the sincerity in his eyes as he wrapped my hair around his hand.
“I’m here,” he said again before kissing me deeply.
Kyle’s hands roamed over my bare skin and dipped into my panties. I moaned into his mouth when his fingers traced over my clit. He pressed down with the palm of his hand. My automatic response was to rock against his skilled hand. The pressure on my clit increased every time I brought my hips up. Soon, I was groaning out my orgasm into his mouth.
He rolled over onto his back, pulling me on top of him. He used one hand to push my panties aside and the other to guide his erection to my entrance. With just the head of his cock inside of me, he placed both hands on my hips and without warning pushed himself inside of me while pushing my hips down to meet his. I cried out as I felt the length of him so deep inside of me I thought it would tear me apart.
Kyle held onto me as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, forcing his cock deeper inside of me. I started to scream, but Kyle cut it off with his mouth.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.
“No,” I said, trying to pull away.
“Wrap your legs around me now,” he grunted as he thrust his cock inside of me harder than before.
I complied, wrapping my legs around his back. If I wasn’t already impaled on his manhood, I would have fallen over. The pain was exquisite, as his cock moved unbelievably deeper.
“Do you believe me now?” he panted as he hammered his dick into me. “Do you believe I’m here now, Lily? Can you feel me?” he groaned.
In response, my body began to shudder with my next orgasm.
“That’s it, Lily. Feel me,” Kyle moaned. “Feel…unhhh…” he groaned extremely loud. “Feel me inside of you, Lily,” he almost shouted just before I felt the first spurt of semen inside of me. “Feel that?” he grunted.
“Kyle!” I screamed his name as I came again. My tight muscles squeezed him even as he continued to pulsate inside of me.
“I love you,” he whispered before taking my mouth in a sexy kiss that had my pussy squeezing his cock a little more.
This was my Kyle. My Kyle was back, but the nagging question in the back of my head was…for how long?
***
After our long day of traveling, we decided to spend our first full day lounging on the beach. I was wrapped up in Kyle’s arms on a lounger built for two. The other Kyle, the man he was being yesterday, was still a no show, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on and he wasn’t telling me.
The day went smoothly. We were in and out of the water, and twice raced back to our bed for orgasmic activity. Later that evening, just after the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen, we went to dinner at a nearby restaurant. There were a lot of people there, mostly couples, but it still had a very pleasant and romantic ambiance.
We were just served our dinner when the man at the table closest to us proposed to his girlfriend. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but I read his lips clearly when he asked, “Will you marry me?” With a smile that was just as much of an answer as her words, she nodded and said yes. He wasn’t on one knee, and he didn’t seem to want to garner the attention of those around him. It was a sweet proposal, low key, but romantic. When they leaned across the table to kiss, I turned away.
I peeked at Kyle while I cut into my fish. His brow was slightly creased, as if he was thinking hard about something. Every now and then his eyes would flicker over to the newly engaged couple, but every time he looked back to his meal, his brow was more creased. I had a sneaky suspicion that other Kyle was back. My Kyle was good at harboring secrets from me and he always wore his game face. This Kyle was wearing his worries on his sleeve, which made me believe that whatever was going on with him was major and I would be just as much affected as him.
“I’m not asking for a proposal or anything,” I started slowly, gaging his cautious reaction. “But where do you think we will be five years from now?”
The lines in his head smoothed out. “I don’t know,” he said.
I stared at him. “You don’t have any thoughts on that at all?”
He stared back at me. “I’m not sure if this is the time and place to have this discussion,” he said dismissively.
I put my fork down. “We are on one of the most romantic islands in the world. We are surrounded by honeymooners and the recently engaged and you don’t think that this is a good time and place for this discussion?”
I wasn’t trying to start an argument or be a bitch, I really wasn’t. But his answer only confirmed what I had been thinking since yesterday, that something was wrong.
Kyle put his fork down, too, but I saw danger in his eyes. “I just want to enjoy my time here with you, Lily, without the added drama that follows us at home. Can we do that?”
“Talking about our future is considered drama?” I asked, trying to keep my anger under control.
He looked irritated by my words. “As I said a moment ago, it is not the time and place to have this conversation.”
I truly believed at that moment that the reason Kyle didn’t want to discuss our future was because he didn’t see one. It wasn’t one of those shortsighted things either—I could deal with that. No, this was different. He didn’t see us together, probably not even in the near future. I know we never discussed our commitments to each other, but it was much implied. I never questioned whether or not he was in this for the long haul. I knew he was in love with me and that was all I needed to know, but now that wasn’t enough.
And why the hell had he brought me to this island if he couldn’t see a future? The realization hit me that maybe this was the calm before the breakup, that this trip was being used to soften an impending blow.
Kyle had resumed eatin
g his meal, but my appetite was gone, like my future with Kyle. I caught our waiter’s eye, bringing him to our table.
“I’ll have a Zombie,” I said. “And a shot of Patron.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the cute Tahitian waiter said with a smile.
Kyle watched me with a guarded expression. Emmy used to drink herself into a stupor when she was with Kyle. Now I understood why.
“Don’t do this,” Kyle said quietly.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t try to drink away what you’re feeling,” he said.
I let out a humorous laugh. “I can’t talk about it. I can’t drink it away. I guess I should be you and let it eat away at me in silence.”
The waiter appeared a moment later with my drinks.
“Take them away,” Kyle commanded him.
The poor guy looked so startled. He looked at me for confirmation, but I tapped the table indicating I wanted him to put the drinks down.
“If those drinks touch the table I’ll kick your ass,” Kyle said calmly and quietly, but his eyes were hard and serious. He pulled out his wallet while the waiter stood there, confused and probably a little scared. Kyle threw down a small stack of cash. “We’re finished.”
He stood up and the waiter hastily retreated. Kyle stood beside me, offering his hand. I didn’t take his hand, but I got up and stormed out ahead of him. There were two ways back to our bungalow, a paved path, and the beach. Most couples moved to the beach after dinner. It was a romantic way to unwind. Couples walked hand in hand with their shoes in their hands, or sat close on the beach talking or kissing, or other things, but there was no romance for me at the moment. I took the paved path at a record speed. Kyle kept pace behind me.
I wished there was somewhere else for me to go, away from him, so that I wouldn’t kill him, but the island would basically be shutting down for the night. Couples were expected to be in their rooms canoodling, focusing on only each other, not dancing or bar hopping. I was stuck here with him until at least the morning. I hoped I wouldn’t kill him before then.
When we got into the bungalow, I took my shoes off and threw them against a wall. Kyle was lucky I didn’t throw them at his head. As I moved into the bedroom I stripped out of the dress that he had promised to take me out of himself when I first put it on. I threw that, too before rooting through my suitcase for a pair of shorts and a shirt. Kyle stood nearby, watching me with unease. I pulled on the shorts and shirt and moved past him back to the living area. When we arrived, there was a complimentary bottle of champagne in our room. We never opened it. Now was as good a time as any. I opened the bottle, not enjoying the POP of the cork dislodging like I usually did.
While Kyle stood in the middle of the living room watching me, I sipped at the bubbles foaming out of the top of the bottle before throwing my head back and guzzling as much of the bubbling liquid as I could.
“I told you not to do that,” he said quietly, but made no effort to stop me.
I only looked at him before taking another long sip. He gave me a look that spelled out all kinds of danger, but he walked into the bedroom. I heard him kick his shoes off and a moment later I heard him peeing in the bathroom, which reminded me of how damn quiet this place was. It was too damn quiet. I can hear someone peeing in the next room.
I took his brief absence as an opportunity to get away from him. I slipped out of the door that led to the beach behind us. As soon as my feet hit the sand, I took off at a run. I was not a runner. I tried running with Kyle a couple of times and I always felt like I was dying less than a quarter mile in. Running in the sand wasn’t any easier, but my need to put some distance between us pushed me to keep going until I was far enough away from the bungalows that I could not discern which one was even ours. The night was dark, but the moon reflecting off of the water gave me just enough light to see where I was going. My bottle of champagne was pretty shaken up and I probably spilled a good deal of it in my run. As I sat down on a log to catch my breath, I found that I hadn’t spilled as much as I thought. I took long sips as I waited for Kyle to come find me, and without a doubt he would.
I knew I couldn’t go on like this. I would always feel like the bottom was about to drop out from under me, and that’s no way to be in a relationship. Maybe some people liked those kinds of dramatics, but not me. I’d had enough bottoms dropping in my life. Then again, I should have known better. It’s Kyle freakin’ Sterling, after all. He was moody, hot and cold. Within those first 24 hours that we became intimately familiar with each other, he went from being hostile and insulting to wanting to rip my clothes off and just like that he changed again to indifference. When I first started working for him, he doubted my ability to do anything besides file and mix drinks while he ogled my body. One moment he was personal and the next he was cold. Hell, a classic Kyle moment was when he was telling me how much he wished he didn’t care about me while he was trying to fuck me against his front door. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he made tender, passionate love to me and then called out Emmy’s name as a way to push me away. Classic fucking Kyle.
So, why was I so surprised that he brought me to an island that was set up for couples but then he pushed me off when I wanted to talk about our future relationship?
In the moonlight, I saw someone walking towards me. I knew Kyle would come and find me, but…well this person was a little smaller than Kyle in size.
I started to panic in my mind. Just because this was a couple’s retreat didn’t mean that I couldn’t get raped or murdered. I was suddenly aware of my folly, running out onto a dark beach alone, and far from where anyone could hear me scream.
I was getting ready to get up and run when the guy came to an abrupt halt and cursed.
“Holy shit, you scared me,” he said with a faded British accent. “I didn’t expect to find anyone else out here.”
“Me either, and quite frankly I’m still scared. How do I know you’re not going to hit me with that bottle you have there?” I asked, looking at the bottle he was carrying in his right hand.
“And waste good rum? Are you mental?” He moved in closer, revealing his face in the moonlight. He was a good-looking guy, I guess. Light hair, slim but had a toned build under a button down white cotton shirt and lounge pants.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone at night. Where is your companion?” he asked.
“What makes you think I have a companion?” I took another sip of my champagne.
“This is Bora Bora, my dear. Everyone has a companion.”
“Where is yours then?” I challenged.
“Sleeping too damn comfortably after declining my proposal of marriage,” he sighed.
“Oh,” I softened a bit. “Sorry about that. My ‘companion’ is probably out looking for me now. I took off while he was taking a piss.”
He sat down beside me on the log. “Don’t tell me you ran away from a marriage proposal.”
He offered me his bottle. I took it and handed him mine. We both took a few good gulps out of the bottles. My throat burned from the rum. Without looking at the bottle I knew it was Jamaican rum. I loved the stuff.
“I didn’t run from a marriage proposal,” I said after we switched bottles again. “At dinner, a man proposed to his girlfriend. It was quiet and sweet. I specifically said ‘I’m not looking for a marriage proposal’ before asking him where he saw us in a few years, and I got nothing.”
“You’re friggen kidding me,” he said incredulously.
“No shit. You know what I got? I got ‘this isn’t the time or place for this discussion, Lily.’ Psh.” The combination of the champagne and the rum was starting to go to my head. Though I spent most of my life behind a bar, I didn’t drink much. Kyle and I had beer a few nights a week after work, and wine with some of our meals, but for the most part we didn’t drink often. Now I was feeling that lack of drinking in my low tolerance level.
“Lily,” he said, rolling my name off of his tongue. “I’m Michael.”
>
I took his extended hand and gave it a firm shake.
“So, your ‘companion’ has commitment issues,” he said, before taking another swig of his rum.
“Amongst a host of other issues,” I mumbled and took a sip of my own drink.
Wordlessly, we switched again.
“Melanie said she isn’t ready for marriage,” he sighed. “We’ve been together for three years. At what point is she going to be ready? We’ve been living together for two of those years.”
“At least she told you she wasn’t ready. Kyle just keeps pushing the conversation off.”
“Yes, but she won’t tell me why she isn’t ready.”
“Maybe they should get together,” I suggested. “She doesn’t want marriage and he doesn’t want to talk about it. Perfect for each other.”
“I thought you weren’t expecting a marriage proposal?” he looked at me with a small grin.
“I wasn’t!” I said defensively, but then sighed. “I wasn’t. Really I wasn’t, but his response made me realize that it was something I’d want eventually—with him—and he doesn’t want it from me.”
“I have to be honest,” he said softly, staring out at the sea. “I don’t think I can continue to be with Mel if she doesn’t want me wholly. I know that some people are just as happy without the marriage aspect, but not me. She’s always known that I wanted a wife for life, not a girlfriend, not a fiancé. If I’m asking her, it means it’s extremely important to me, right?”
“Right,” I nodded.
“I feel that step will make us complete, but if she doesn’t want to be…one with me, to be whole with me, then I can’t be with her at all. It’s been long enough for her to know what she wants by now. Obviously, it isn’t me.”
We both took long pulls from the bottles before switching again. I actually started feeling a little worse for Michael than I did for myself.
“How long have you been with Kyle?” he asked.
“A few months. I’ve known him for a few years though.”