Good Intentions (Welcome to Paradise) (Volume 2)

by S. L. Scott

  Coating the ends of her fork, she wipes the tines onto her tongue. She’s so sexy, oblivious to what little things like that do to me. Scrunching her nose up and then smiling, she says, “I’m so glad I tried it.”

  “Really?” I asked shocked.

  “No, ya jerk! Why’d you let me put that in my mouth? You knew it was gross and you still let me do it.” She huffs.

  “Some people love it while others say it’s an acquired taste.”

  “Well, it’s not a taste I want to acquire. That’s gross!” She takes her napkin and drags it down her tongue.

  Oh, fuck me, alright already. I look at my watch, frustration of the sexual kind setting in. Two hours left until I get the sweet release promised to me earlier. I gulp loudly at the thought of her licking… The entertainment starting interrupts my dirty thoughts.

  Five hot-looking hula girls start dancing across the stage. Hula dudes come out doing some really loud chanting and stomping behind them and I recognize the one from the spear game earlier. After sending a wink in Mallory’s direction, he smiles at her. He fucking winked at my girlfriend right in front of me. He’s got some big kehones and damn lucky he’s up there dancing right now or I’d pop that winking eye.

  Running my fingertips in small circular motions around my temples, I try to calm my irritation, but then, like a bolt of lightning, it hits me. “Shit!” That’s how I used to treat women. It didn’t matter if they had a boyfriend or not. “Oh Shit!” I say, dropping my head into my hands. Guys don’t care that she’s my girlfriend! They’re going to hit on her anyway. She’s mine damn it! Karma is a cold-hearted bitch, so her name is probably Kelly. I feel a snarl rumble through my chest at the thought of her and the shit she told Mallory at the party, hoping to break us up.

  Suddenly Mallory’s hand is rubbing up and down my spine as she comes closer and whispers in my ear. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

  Looking into her sweet, caring eyes, I can’t help but smile. It’s small, but a smile all the same. “I just… I’ve been an asshole for so long,” I confide in her. “I love you.” Weak, I know, but she knows about my past so it’s all I can say that feels justified right now.

  “Oh baby, I love you.” She turns back to the stage and exclaims, “Look, a fire breather! Cool!”

  I turn toward the stage again and settle back into my chair as she rests against me. I move my arm around her shoulders and we watch the show.

  Twenty more minutes of hip shaking, foot stompin’, fire breathing action and I see the dancers roaming the audience gathering participants. I hate this kind of shit and hope they don’t come to our section.

  Tap.Tap.Tap.

  “Evan! Go!” Mallory says excitedly. “You’ve been picked. Go, baby, show me your moves.”

  I look up at the hula girl smiling down at me and then to Mallory. Wiggling my eyebrows, I whisper, “I’d rather show you my moves in private, if you know what I mean.”

  She doesn’t fall for it, so I begrudgingly stand and follow the girl up onto the stage. How can I say no when Mallory looks so incredibly happy right now. Looking at the audience, I realize there are probably five hundred people watching us on stage, and my face heats up.

  After a minute of getting adjusted to all eyes on me, I loosen up. I’m here with Mallory, for Mallory, and I’m going to enjoy myself. I meet her eyes and smile, knowing she’s enjoying this so much.

  Trying to follow the girl next to me is hard. I’m apparently doing it all wrong. She puts her hands on my hips and smiles at me. Raising my arms up, I look down trying to make my middle move the way she’s showing me. The hula girl pulls and pushes my hips side to side, but it seems of no use and I just start moving, laughing, and having a fun time anyway, throwing in a little ‘umph’ at the end just for Mallory, which makes her laugh. We’re escorted off and the girl who picked and attempted to teach me, whispers, “Hang out after the show and I’ll give you a private lesson.”

  “Thanks, but I have a girlfriend.” My tone is light, friendly, and very proud. I love that I’m taken. I would’ve never thought I’d think that way, but here I am and I’m happy.

  Mallory attacks me with kisses when I sit down.

  “I’m better with my thrusts,” I joke, not really joking.

  She laughs, and agrees. “That is for sure. You definitely have thrusting talent.” She then goes on about how cute I was up on stage. She evens mentions that she didn’t appreciate that girl’s hands all over me, but that she thought it was cool that I went up there.

  We finish our meal, the show ends, and we buy our souvenir photo. I should really be more embarrassed over how I look in these photos dressed like this, but I buy it anyway because she wants it.

  As we head for the car, we hold hands. Our body language to any passerby could be mistaken for newlyweds. I tighten my hold on her liking the possibility of this thought.

  It will take less than an hour to get back home and the first fifteen minutes is filled with an escalating sexual tension, intensifying with each passing minute. I wasn’t going to hold her to her offer from the luau, but I can’t say that I am going to let her off that easy either. I love her mouth on me and really want to feel and see her doing that to me again.

  By the time we get out of Honolulu, Mallory has a devious sparkle in her eyes as she licks her lips—slowly—making a show of it. She reaches over and rubs her palm across the top of my length that’s already hard for her, but when she moves closer, I stop her. Quickly closing my eyes, I’m shocked by my own actions.

  Since I’m driving, I don’t keep my eyes closed for long, needing a second or two to recover.

  “Evan? What’s wrong?” She sits back in her chair.

  Reaching over, I tug at her seatbelt, making sure it’s tight and she’s safe. “You don’t have to do this right now. I want to collect my winnings at home, so I can also pleasure you.”

  “Doing this for you does give me pleasure,” she murmurs into my ear.

  Her mouth trails down my neck as one of her hands explores my chest and abs under my shirt. Squirming from anticipation and nervousness, I really shouldn’t let her do this to me while I’m driving, especially after being pulled over last time, but she’s so fucking hot and persuasive…

  She lets me return the favor when we get home.

  Lying in bed, I’m physically exhausted from Evan dragging me all over the island sightseeing for more than a week. He has his mind set that I will have the same full experience as anyone else visiting Hawaii. The difference is—he’s my tour guide. My body tingles remembering some of the places we’ve been making out: in the yellow submarine off of Waikiki Beach where he bought the entire tour’s tickets so it could be only the two of us, kissing on the beach instead of snorkeling at Hanauma Bay, and hiding in the maze for well over an hour at the Dole Plantation; I hid and when he found me, he ate pineapple soft serve off my body. That was completely inappropriate with all the families running around, but was fuckin’ sexy. We couldn’t even make it home that day because we were so hot and bothered, so he pulled over on some dirt road and we finished what we started.

  That was last week and my legs are still sore from the hike up Diamond Head two days ago. Well, it might also be from our ‘doing it like there’s no tomorrow sexcapades, but I would never complain about my Evan lovins.

  Throwing back the sheet, I look to my side.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake,” Evan says, bright-eyed, all smiley, showing off his perfect teeth.

  I grumble.

  He comes over and sits down next to me. “Don’t be moody, baby, it’s a beautiful day.”

  I flail my arms in the air as I whine, “Every day is the same here. Beautiful blue skies, the ocean sounds in the distance, birds singing,” I let my finger trail down his bare chest, “perfectly tanned, muscular, strong, sexy surfer boys.”

  He tilts his head down questioningly, “Boys, as in plural?”

  “Okay, just one perfectly tanned, muscular, strong, sexy s
urfer boy.”

  “Go on.”

  “Go on?”

  “Yeah, I want to hear more.”

  “Ahhh. Well.” I continue lightly dragging my nail down his abs. “A surfer who is incredibly smart, has the best blue eyes I’ve ever seen—”

  “You’re kind of making my cock jealous of my eyes,” he says, batting his lashes playfully at me. He rubs his chest with his hand, spreading his fingers to cover a large portion of it then slides it over his abs, which are looking more defined than usual if that’s possible.

  I involuntarily swipe my hand across my mouth in case I’m drooling, but stay focused on his hand as it travels downward. I can feel his eyes burning into mine, but I continue watching the show he’s all too happy to give me.

  He dips his fingers into his pants, slides them up then back down completely disappearing into the fabric of his briefs, and grabs hold of his hard length. “You like watching, baby?”

  Gulping, I squeeze my thighs together, my body responding to him.

  His hand reappears, and I sigh in disappointment.

  “Don’t worry,” He says. “We’ll have plenty of time to watch each other when we’re apart. We’ll sex-cam.”

  “Can’t you give me a little preview of what to expect? I mean, it won’t be the same on the monitor. Wait, what? You want me…” I say, my anxiety showing through my tone. “To touch myself in front of the webcam while you watch?”

  He leans down really close, rubbing the tip of his nose along my neck, and exhaling a warm breath. “Yes baby, I want to watch you get yourself off for me like you did that time in the bathroom.”

  Open mouthed, wet, deep, and intense kisses are exchanged while he slides down on top of me and moves slowly, making me ache for more. My body flows with his as he presses his middle against my pelvis. My mind already lost in feelings and sensations as I start working against him for the friction I need. The cotton of my panties and his boxer briefs are a complete nuisance, but yet provide pleasure as it scrapes against my neediness.

  Moaning as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, he pulls back, removing his lips from mine, and says in the most sextastic voice, “Does this feel good, baby?”

  A mumbled utterance of approval escapes my lips as his hands slide under my tank top and he squeezes my breasts. His moan in return encourages me to grind harder. He kisses across my jaw, dragging his teeth and then sucking gently on my neck.

  A tight squeeze on my breasts becomes firmer as his mouth reaches my peaks and teases me with soft licks, delicate touches, and gentle hip presses.

  I lift my head to see why the change in speed. He’s looking up at me through dark lashes and half-hooded eyes as I watch his lips kiss my breast and his thumb caresses my other breast’s nipple.

  Pushing my boobs together, he appreciates them… and then begins talking to them. “I’m going to miss you girls. Remember you’re mine and only mine. Don’t let anyone else manhandle you, okay?”

  Evan releases them and abruptly takes my arms, pushing them above my head, and attacks my neck with kisses while gyrating into me again with passion. I don’t know what that stalling was all about, but I’m glad we’re back to the action portion of this morning sex.

  His lips meet mine again and as we kiss, I wrap my legs around his middle and we grind hard and fast. “Get a condom,” I mumble with his tongue in my mouth.

  “Let’s do it this way,” he says, never breaking pace. “I’m already so close.”

  So am I, which is why I thought we would have sex, but this does feel too fantastic to stop now.

  Rubbing down my sides, he glides his hands hard against me on the way up and grabs a hold of my breasts again. Our moaning takes over and he whimpers for a split second before pressing hard against my heat. Pushing back against his shoulders, I reach my orgasm. But we continue moving against each other a few more seconds before he collapses on top of me.

  After panting for a moment, he rolls off of me, eyes closed and smirking. “God, I love you.”

  “Me or my body?” I giggle at his obvious exhausted pleasure.

  “Both,” he says, turning to face me. He strokes my face with his hand, his expression turning serious. “I love all of you. Everything about you, baby. Especially that beautiful blush that’s on your cheeks now.” He leans forward, kissing me sweetly on the lips then jumps up off the bed and heads to the bathroom. Before he leaves the room, he stops and looks back at me. “Get that cute ass out of bed. We’ve got plans today.”

  I grab the pillow next to me and chuck it at him. “You can’t be serious! It’s been non-stop, babe. I’m tired. No more hiking or any activities like that. I’m good. I’ve seen more than my fair share. Can’t we just lounge in bed instead?”

  “No, we can’t,” he shouts from the bathroom. “We’ve got big plans today.”

  “Uggghh! What do I need to wear and bring?” I give in. Apparently, he has set his mind and there’s no changing it.

  “Wear what you would normally wear. Or, we can wear our matching Hawaiian clothes,” he says and laughs.

  “No! Absolutely not! It was cute one time. Twice is too much.”

  “Okaaayyy, but if you change your mind…” He’s wise and doesn’t finish that sentence, but he does start the shower.

  I get out of bed, disgruntled I might add, and pull off my soaked panties and scrunched up tank top. Tossing them on my growing pile of dirty clothes, I walk naked into the bathroom. He’s naked and brushing his teeth, but stops to drink me in with his eyes. With the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and foamy paste all over his teeth, he releases it and takes my arm, pulling me in front of him. His body is flush against the back of mine as his hands feel me, wrapping around my ribs and stopping on my stomach. Gently rubbing his hands, palms flattened, on my breasts, he cups them. He’s been watching me move under his touch until it seems to dawn on him that he’s supposed to be brushing his teeth. He lets go of me and starts brushing again.

  When I exhale, I realize I’d stopped breathing altogether when he looked at me the way he did. He’s touched every inch of my body before—gently and sexually—but something about the moment we just shared reminded me of the way he looked at me the very first day we met.

  As I walk under the spray of the shower, I ask, trying to sound casual, “You asked me if I enjoyed myself after the first time we were together. I remember thinking that was thoughtful that you were concerned with how it felt emotionally for me.”

  He steps in behind me and holds me so were both under the water. Backing up, he grabs the shampoo, squirts some in his hand, and starts washing my hair. “I also washed your hair that first night.” He kisses my shoulder. “If you’re asking me if I always ask girls that question afterward, the answer is no. I never cared enough about anyone to even think to ask. I really cared if you had a good time.” He leans down to my ear and whispers, “I secretly hoped you’d stay with me that first day, but—”

  “But I was so pissed that I woke up alone.”

  “Yeah, you scared me a little,” he laughs.

  “You made love to me when all I was looking for was a good time.” I also laugh, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

  His hand goes to his chest, ego wounded, and all dramatic. “Oh how your words pierce my very manhood. So, you didn’t have a good time then?”

  He slides his fingers, conditioner coated, through my hair, carefully spreading it throughout.

  I playfully respond, “I didn’t say I didn’t have a good time, but you made love to me. You didn’t fuck me.”

  “Oh, I see. So Mallory Wray came to the island to get laid? Thank god, I was there to be of service, but my humblest apologies that I left her dissatisfied and in need of a proper fucking. I can only hope that I’ve made up for it.” I see the sparkle in his eyes as he teases.

  Shimmying my soapy body against him, I say, “More than made up for it, but if you’d like to keep making up for it, you know where to find me, hot stuff.”

/>   He steps out from rinsing his hair and I step under, closing my eyes and letting the water fall down my body. When I open them again, he’s staring at me and I recognize the look though it takes me a second to place it, a flashback to our first night together again.

  His smile lessens as he looks at me, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze drops away for the briefest of seconds, but when it returns there’s confusion, his expression mystified again.

  He asks, “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Just love me. That’s all.”

  “That’s easy. I meant what am I going to do when you’re gone?”

  “You’re also leaving.”

  “But not for a week. You leave in…” A heavy sigh fills in the rest and we finish our shower in silence. Both of us are well aware that I leave in three days and we don’t need the reminder.

  Within the hour, we’re on the road. But when we pull into the airport, I get confused. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re doing a day trip to Kauai.”

  I grab his hand, stopping him as he tries to move forward. “Really?” I can’t hide my excitement.

  “C’mon or we’ll miss our flight.”

  After the short twenty-minute flight, we rent a convertible and drive along the coast eventually turning inland until we arrive at a place called Wailua River Cruises.

  “It’s pretty here. Are we going on a boat?” I ask as we walk to the ticket office.

  “Yes, we are. This is where parts of that old show “Fantasy Island” and I think some of “Lost” was filmed.” He leans forward over the counter, and says, “I have a reservation for two under Ashford.”

  The girl smiles at him and then starts typing. “Yes, here you are, Mr. Ashford, aannnndddd…” She eyes me up and down, but easily disregards me and focuses her attention back to Evan with a flirty smile.

  Squeezing Evan’s hand, I answer confidently, “Mrs. Ashford.” As the words leave my mouth, I go into some minor form of shock. Why did I do that? I claimed him because I got jealous. I turn around quickly to walk away, embarrassed for acting so childish and for doing that to Evan. But Evan stops my retreat, gripping my hand tighter in his then bringing it to his lips and placing one sweet, slow kiss on my knuckles. A gentle smile plays on his lips as he takes the tickets without any further acknowledgment of the girl behind the counter.