“You poor baby,” I joke. “I thought you were really roughing it on your long trips away. Now I see you’re living like a king.”
“I’ve never stayed here before,” he says. “This is all for you. When I come it’s all about business. I stay in a simple downtown hotel.”
“You did this all for me?”
“Well, mostly for you. I was hoping you’d let me hang out with you.”
I pull him close and say, “I think we can arrange that.”
While our butler puts away my clothes, I think about the conversation we had while lying on my bed in Austin and how I jumped to all the wrong conclusions. Why do I always do this? His deal is obviously important. I can’t believe he’d risk it all to come back to Austin and pick me up. I feel terrible for doubting him. I promise myself to never do it again.
By the time we settle in, it’s after midnight. I take out the red teddy and matching red panties I bought before we left, and go into the bathroom to change. The bathroom is gorgeous. It’s white with mirrors everywhere, a giant glass walk-in shower, and a large raised Jacuzzi tub in the middle. I rinse myself off, and put on a little perfume. When I enter the bedroom, Christian’s lying down. He pats the bed for me to lie down beside him, and says, “You’re so beautiful.”
I climb into bed, and lie in his arms like two spoons neatly placed in a kitchen drawer. I’m surprised he doesn’t want more because my body aches for him to finally make love to me. Instead of making love, he quickly falls asleep. I try to sleep, but I can’t because of the thoughts of him running through my head.
When I wake up the next morning, Christian’s already up reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. He already showered and he’s wearing beach pants, a white silk shirt, and deck shoes. I walk up from behind, and put my arms around his neck. “Good morning.”
He looks at me with a big smile. “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. You were sleeping so sound I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Are we going to the beach today?” I ask.
We can do whatever you want.”
What I want to do is get back in bed and do the only thing I thought about all night. I kiss him on the cheek and say, “The beach I saw when we drove here looked beautiful.”
“We have our own beach. We can walk straight down from our terrace.”
I packed my sexy black two-piece suit that will surely make him want me as much as I want him. Back in the bathroom I take off all my clothes, and look at myself in the mirror. I’m quite beautiful for a thirty-nine-year-old with three kids. I still have a nice figure, my stomach is flat, my breasts look perfect, and the stretch marks that once bothered me so much have faded with time and coconut oil. I hate the phrase, “She’s pretty for her age,” but the truth is, Christian could be here with a younger woman without any of the baggage I’m carrying. I can’t help but wonder, Why me?
I come out of the bathroom with my hair brushed back and tied in a ponytail. Christian has also changed into his bathing suit and ordered our breakfast. He’s waiting in the living room and stands when I arrive. He opens his arms and says, “Wow, you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you, babe. You’re quite handsome yourself.”
The double doors are still open. They’ll remain open our entire stay allowing the cool outside air to come in. We eat breakfast and walk through a small gate that leads to the resort’s lagoon. Along the sidewalk, there are huts, lots and lots of palm trees, chairs to sit and relax in, cabana bars, and an outdoor restaurant. The sidewalk splits leading left to the beach or right to the pool. We continue left.
The resort’s private beach is a stretch of sand without any of the crowds I saw on the beaches we drove past on the way in. The sand is bright white and soft as powder. There’s a large hut where guests pick up towels, blankets, umbrellas, kayaks, snorkel sets, paddleboards, or whatever they need. Christian grabs two large, thick, white towels and we walk to two beach chairs sitting side by side. I lie down and hand him my suntan lotion. Maybe he’ll get the hint. He massages the suntan lotion onto my back, arms, and legs. I turn over giving him complete access to my front. His hands on my body don’t help the situation.
When I’m covered in oil, I lie back and look at the softest white sand and the bluest ocean I’ve ever seen. This beach has it all, except for one thing: there are no children playing, laughing, screaming, or crying. A few days without my kids sounds wonderful. I lie back in my chair, close my eyes, and fall sound asleep. I dream about Christian and me together back in our bed.
When I wake up, Christian’s chair is empty except for his towel and an empty beer bottle. It surprises me a little. I sit up and breathe in the fresh sea air. I sunburn easily, and can see my white skin turning pink. When he doesn’t return, I grab our towels and head back to the resort, just as Christian comes running down the stairs. “Hey beautiful,” he smiles.
“I’m so sorry, I completely dozed off.”
“No worries. You’re just not used to the time change yet. Are you hungry?”
“Not right now, but I will be later.”
“Great. I told the cook to make us something to eat later. We can sit by the pool for a little while. Maybe we’ll rent some scooters later, and go shopping in town.”
We walk back to the pool. There’s a restaurant and bar with tiki torches along the edges. In front of the restaurant, there’s another outside bar overlooking an infinity pool that’s so big you can swim laps. It creates the illusion that you can dive right off the back edge of the pool into the ocean. In the middle of the infinity pool is a beautiful statue of a mermaid.
We sit by the pool in the sun and enjoy the cool ocean air. Almost immediately, a man in shorts, a collared shirt, and tennis shoes comes up to take our order. We order two pina coladas and lie back in our chairs. After sitting and talking, we order another pina colada and jump in the infinity pool along the edge, and look out over the beautiful white sand and the bright blue ocean. I put my arms around his neck and lift myself up so he’s holding me in his arms.
“I love you,” I repeat for the second time.
“I love you too,” he says, holding me in his arms. He reaches down and kisses my lips.
The sun is still shining high in the sky when we go back to the hotel concierge. Christian checks out two of the resort’s red scooters. We ride along the ocean to a small village, and walk up and down the streets. At this lovely little shop, Christian buys me a silk sundress. On our way back to our scooters, we stop at a little jewelry shop. He buys me a simple gold necklace with a cross and a tiny diamond in the middle. He stands behind me, and clips the necklace around my neck. Once it’s secure, he reaches down and kisses my shoulder sending a chill down my back. If I live a hundred years, I’ll never take this necklace off.
Back in our villa, the chef is busy in the kitchen. “Hello ma’am,” he greets us as we walk inside. “Did you enjoy your day?”
“A little too much,” I smile.
I go into the bedroom, and Christian walks in a few minutes later. He goes up to the sink and splashes water on his face. I come up from behind, wrap my arms around him, and lay my head on his back for a minute or so. I let go, open the shower door, and turn on the shower. I untie my bathing suit top, and lay it on the Jacuzzi tub. I lower my bathing suit bottoms down to the floor and slip into the shower. It’s made entirely of clear glass. The hot, steamy water pour over my head and down my body. I must have a one-track mind because the whole thing feels so stimulating. When I open my eyes, Christian’s looking right at my naked body, which turns me on. He has touched and kissed every part of my body, but this is different. It’s so open and casual—like a married couple. I put my hand on the glass and give him a smile to let him know he should join me. He smiles back and then walks right out of the bathroom, leaving me all alone in the shower. I’m now more frustrated than ever feeling the hot water runs down my body.
When I’m finished showering, I walk out of the bathroom. Christian returns, and turns
the shower back on. I go back in and put my hands on his stomach and slide my fingers into the front of his bathing suit. I don’t know how I can make my intentions any clearer, but he doesn’t respond.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Everything’s good,” he says.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. I just have a lot on my mind.”
Responding to his cues, I stop and get dressed for dinner. Back in the kitchen, I smell something delicious cooking on the stove. I lift the lid and the aroma fills the room.
“Christian said you’ll give me cooking lessons if I want?” I ask the chef.
“Yes ma’am,” he says. I’m almost finished here, but I’ll tell you about each dish.”
“Wonderful.”
“The dish you’re looking at is called moe-KAY-cuh. It originated from Brazil during the colonial period.” I stir the dish as he continues explaining. “You heat one tablespoon of palm oil in a large pot over medium heat. You want to make sure the pot has a heavy bottom so it doesn’t burn easily. When the oil is nice and hot, you add eight to ten large shrimp. Make sure the shrimp aren’t frozen. You sear the shrimp for a minute or so on each side the same way you’d sear meat.”
In the middle of him explaining, Christian comes out of the bedroom in beach pants and a button-down Tommy Bahama shirt. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks.
“Not at all,” I assure him. “I think it’s almost ready to eat.”
“Why don’t I send you an email explaining exactly how I make everything?” the chef asks.
“That’ll be wonderful,” I agree.
Christian and I walk to the terrace and sit in the two lounge chairs. He pours each of us a glass of white wine that’s been chilling in a wine bucket.
The cook brings out two bowls, and sets them on the nearby table. “This is the moe-KAY-cuh we were talking about in the kitchen,” he announces.
We sit at the table, Christian lifts his glass, and we toast to a wonderful weekend. Our bowls have large shrimp, clams, octopus, squid, peppers, garlic, tomatoes, and cilantro in a light brown sauce that looks a little like yellow curry. It looks delicious and tastes even better than it looks. It’s a great start to the rest of our meal. When we finish our soup, the cook takes our bowls to the kitchen. He returns with two large plates with steak, a large lobster tail, and asparagus smothered in butter and seasoning. The presentation is incredible. The cook lights the candle sitting in the middle of the table. He goes back inside. With one switch, all the lights around our terrace light up the night.
“Your dessert is on the counter when you’re ready,” he lets us know. “Just leave the dishes where they are. Someone will be back to clean everything up.”
We barely start eating our steak and lobster before the sun sets over the ocean. The sky turns bright orange with streaks of yellow like a fire burning overhead. Down below, we can see people eating at the outside restaurant. The terrace, the white beach, the beautiful blue water, and the setting sun makes for the most beautiful, romantic evening a person could possibly imagine. The sun disappears to a standing ovation. After dinner, Christian goes inside and brings back our dessert. It’s a pastry with some type of pecan filling and vanilla cream. We sit outside for three hours drinking wine, eating dessert, and talking.
This time when we go to bed, I’m determined not to let this opportunity pass. I shave my legs, pin back my hair, put on some light makeup, and put on my black see-through lacy top and black panties I wore in Austin that really turned him on. I come out and stand in front of him with my nipples clearly pushing through my top. I hold his face and put my tongue in his mouth. I want to please him. I slide my hands inside the front of his pants and hold him. There’s no hiding his desire. I start to remove his pants, but he stops me.
“Christian … what’s the matter?” I ask, completely confused.
He sits on the edge of the bed and says, “It’s not that something’s the matter.”
“Christian, no! I know something’s wrong. In Austin, you couldn’t keep your hands off me. Now … now … well obviously, you want me as much as I want you, but you stop me. What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,” he assures me, “absolutely not.”
“Then what?”
“It’s nothing.”
I spread my arms open wide and ask, “Then don’t stop me. I’m here for you. I want you.”
I pull him closer and again try to slide his pants down, but again he holds my arms.
“No Christian!” I plea, determined not to stop. “I want to do this.”
“Faith, I’ve thought a lot about everything you said in Austin—that you haven’t been with anyone since your husband. Some people talk about God, but you mean it. I really admire that. We’ve gone too far already. I think we should wait. I’m just not ready to be married yet. I might be someday, but it’s still so early. I don’t want to be the guy who hurts you. You’re too good a woman.”
This is the last thing I expected to hear. What … the … hell?! How did I get myself into this? I only said those things to show him how much he means to me. It was easier to lie than to explain how lonely I’ve been, and how I’ve used sex so many times to find love. Somehow, lying has become so easy for me. It started when I was little, and I just never stopped. It got me out of so many jams.
So many times, I’ve told myself that I should be more honest, but lying has become a habit that I just can’t break. Now here I am again. What a stupid thing to lie about, but what can I do now? If I keep up this charade we’ll never have sex. If I tell him the truth he’ll never see me the same. I’m stuck in another mess of my own making. I don’t know the way out.
“Believe me,” he continues. “Seeing your beautiful body in your tiny nightie isn’t easy, but you’re right. I really respect you for that.”
His words leave me nowhere to turn. I lie beside him in bed even more turned on than ever. We’re not even doing the things we were doing before, which at least left me satisfied. I try to think of some way out of this mess. I want to take off his clothes, and tell him it was all a lie, but I can’t. Maybe I should tell him that I love him and God doesn’t care if you’re in love. I have no idea what to do. Instead of doing anything, I just lie beside him until I finally fall asleep.
– CHAPTER 39 –
When I wake the next morning, Christian is again out of bed and working on his computer in the living room. As soon as he sees me he closes his laptop and says, “Good morning. Give me a second and we’ll walk down to the restaurant and grab some breakfast.”
I go outside and watch the people arriving at the beach. The sun is shining on the waves as they roll in. I sit in an outside lounge chair and take a deep breath of the morning air. Christian comes out, and we walk down to the restaurant below. I’m surprised when he doesn’t take my hand. Something seems different since we came in from the beach yesterday evening. Is he upset? I have no idea what’s going on, but my better judgment tells me to let it go.
At the restaurant, we both eat from the breakfast buffet. It has everything a person could possibly order for breakfast. There are waffles with whipped cream, pancakes with ten different syrups and toppings, French toast, bacon and sausages, shrimp, crab meat, lobster bites, and rows of hot and cold cereals. A chef is there to prepare eggs any way you like and anything else you might desire. They have a long table full of different coffees where you can order American coffee, cappuccino, macchiato, espresso, or other coffees I don’t even recognize. They have all the fresh-squeezed juice you want including orange, apple, mango, watermelon, carrot, pineapple, pear, papaya, and a few others with bright colors. They have a full bar if you want a screwdriver, a bloody Mary, mimosa, or any other cocktail.
At the buffet, Christian seems a little distant. I’m not sure if it’s him or if it’s my own insecurities. I’ve never been around Christian when he’s working. I know it’s one thing to have a good
time while you’re relaxing and another when you’re in the middle of work.
We have a light conversation about how great the buffet is. I kiss his cheek and ask, “Do you want to just relax on the beach today?”
“That would be nice, but I have to meet someone. I scheduled you an appointment for a Thai oil massage at the spa. It’s the best massage in the world.”
I put my hand on his. “Christian … are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind. This is the biggest deal I’ve ever put together. I’ve had a few snags, but don’t let that bother you. Please … enjoy yourself.”
“As long as you’re okay.”
“I’m fine … really.”
When we finish breakfast, we walk back to our villa. Again we don’t hold hands, which makes me even more insecure. I keep telling myself that it’s just his job. I kiss him goodbye and leave for my massage.
As soon as I walk into the spa, I can tell that this is much more than just a massage. I’m stunned just looking at the mosaics and luxuriant surroundings. A woman brings me a thick, soft robe to change into, and then she takes me through the spa that also looks like a magnificent rainforest. We go past a 7,500 square foot indoor/outdoor pool until we reach my luxury treatment room. A therapist takes down my entire medical background. She asks about any pains or discomforts I’m suffering from. When he’s finished, he walks me to a comfy couch with a small tub in front that I put my feet into. Small fish nip at my feet for about twenty minutes. I then leave for my massage.
My actual massage lasts an hour and a half. Instead of the music you usually hear playing at most saunas, all I hear is the sound of the outside ocean waves and the birds singing all around us. The whole world fades away as the masseuse pours hot oil on my back and works his magic. He applies the perfect pressure and knows exactly how to read my muscles. He works out all my knots, and leaves me in heaven. I doze off, but snap out of it when he puts hot stones on my shoulders, back, and legs. He then covers me with towels. I lie with my eyes closed while he finishes with my feet.
The Killing of Faith: A Suspense Thriller You Won't Soon Forget. (The Killing of Faith Series Book 1) Page 19