”Did I hurt you? Tell me. I'm sorry, I never meant to cause you any pain."
This is such a different Alex, a side of him I’ve never seen, something so vulnerable, hidden so deep it never surfaces.
"No, you did not hurt me. It's not that. I just....it was so beautiful and intense. I never looked someone in the eyes like that."
A sigh of relief escapes his lips and the painful expression slowly fades away, replaced by his usual, calm look.
"I thought I hurt you. I saw the tear and I didn't know what to think.”
While his face looks calm, his voice betrays him and comes out a bit shaky.
“Why did you suddenly get worried, almost panicky? The pain on your face looked unbearable."
A shadow crosses over his features, and is gone in seconds.
"Perhaps someday, not now. We both have our life stories to tell, let's not do it now."
I can relate to that, so I don't push it. I would hate if he did that to me.
"Let's take a shower before we fall asleep again." I smile at him and wink.
"We can actually do it without our clothes this time." I’m giggling now to hide my self-consciousness, and he sees right through it.
"You’re beautiful. Embrace it!" He lifts himself off me and pulls his length out. We fit so perfectly together, and I wince at the loss. He smiles knowingly.
"Kind of got used it already, huh?" I flush crimson, and he extends his arms and pulls me up to him.
"You are something else; I have never met anyone like you."
"Why?"
"I guess luck was not on my side."
"Same here I guess."
"I would hope so."
He lifts me into his arms and carries me back to the shower. This time he lets the water run down first and steps in after it’s warm. I slide down his bare chest and stand on the shower tiles.
"I want to wash you."
I feel the need to show him how much I care. I think washing each other is a deeply intimate act. I take a sponge and add a generous amount of shower gel. It glides around his shoulders, then lower, to the dusting of hair on his chest. My other hand touches and explores his body, as if trying to memorize every curve, every ridge. He is still under my touch, except for his fingers playing with my wet curls. I take my time and go over every inch of his chest and shoulders, drawing slow, teasing circles.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, as his lips find mine. He sucks on my lower lip gently, then teases it with his tongue. He breaks the kiss, turns me in place so my back is to him, and starts working the sponge from my neck down my back and around my waist to my breasts.
I give up the sponge along with my perceived control. How is it possible I feel powerful one minute and completely at his mercy the next? This emotional roller-coaster is unfamiliar to me. It’s exciting and exhausting at once. I seem to have had more emotions running through me in these past few days than in the past year. I have to keep my head straight, or I'll be a wreck when this is over. This is too good. Like all fairytales, this one won't last forever. It would have to be over, it’s just a fling, a vacation romance sparked by the sun and the heat. I will, however, enjoy it while I can. I just hope to god it doesn't consume and crash me in the process.
Maybe we should take it slower. I can't think with his hands and lips on me. So that's it, one more time, and then we slow down. I make a deal with my traitorous body and turn around to find his lips. I take his mouth in mine and dig my hands in his hair. My leg wraps around hips while I rub my pelvis against his erection. He grabs my bottom with both hands and lifts me up. I wrap both legs around his waist and thrust against him. No words are needed, he knows exactly what I want and how. He guides his cock inside of me, slowly pushing in, and I marvel at the sensation of being filled to the brim. I tighten my core muscles, and he groans in response. Then we start our slow dance, my body meeting his, thrust for thrust, our bodies melting into one. The water pours down, washing away all the moisture created by our arousal, creating friction between us. A shudder runs through me with each new thrust, and I can't take it any longer. My over-sensitized body is on the brink of another explosion.
"Oh god, I’m so close, come with me, come with me!"
"Emmeline!"
It's not a word, it's a cry from somewhere deep inside of him. He thrusts into me several more times, and we both shatter to pieces, orgasms taking us. I grip him tight, pull his hair and bite down on his lip. His fingers dig into my thighs, and it’s sure to leave bruises. We’re marking each other as our own.
As we are coming down from the high I loosen my grip and let go of his lip only to find I bit him too hard. There’s a drop of blood there. I panic. I can't believe I hurt him like that. How did I lose control? How did I not see I was doing this? I kiss his lips, licking the blood away, running my tongue over his lip to taste if there is more coming.
"I hurt you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened, I didn’t realize I was biting you. Is it bad?" My eyes are panicking and pleading with him. He nudges the tip of my nose with his and smiles.
"Stop! No worries, remember! Just kiss me."
"You aren’t in pain?"
"No. Kiss me, now!" And so I oblige. I kiss him gently and run my tongue over his lip again and again, making sure there’s no more blood.
"Ok, easy there now, unless you want round two before we leave the shower." He smiles down at me, and I realize he’s still inside of me, and I can feel him growing. I can’t believe this guy. Doesn’t he need rest? At this pace, I won’t be able to walk. As it is, I am pretty sore after the last time. Water with the lack of lubricant to blame.
"Wow, don't you need a break or something?" He just laughs and slides me off his length.
"You need a break, or else I’ll be stuck carrying you around, since you’ll lack the ability to walk. On second thought, this might be a great idea; you'll stop running away from me." He tries to slip back inside of me, and I smack him playfully to break free.
"Ok, how about we finish the shower and you get ready? I’ll make a quick run to my place, change, and pick you up in half an hour. We can go for dinner, then maybe a walk. I'll show you a few cool places around South Beach."
"Sounds like a plan. Where are we going?"
"It’ll be a surprise. Do you have any preferences?"
"I have one request.” I’m met with his lopsided smile and a raised brow.
“We’re taking my car. I rented a convertible, and I intend on enjoying it while I’m here. I'll drive, and you'll tell me where to go."
I stare him straight in the eyes with a determined look and a mischievous smile.
"How come you didn’t ask if I have a fun car? What if I have a convertible too?" He practically pouts before breaking into a laugh.
"It doesn't matter. You can ride in a new car—should be fun—and I get to drive my Audi. Besides, I would never drive a car that isn’t mine. So, are you in?"
Alex actually rolls his eyes at me, knowing full well he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
"You are something else. Usually women try to lure men out to their cars, just to see the ride and assess the male. You almost hurt my feelings by being so openly disinterested." I just shrug.
"Really, I think it's just boys and their toys. You guys are obsessed with them and think we actually care."
"I love my car, but that's not the point."
"Proves my point exactly." I laugh at him and he smiles back. There is something in that smile that is deeper than the simple joke. I can't place it, and the look is gone before I get to examine it more closely.
"So, I will see you in the lobby in half an hour. Will that be enough time for you to get ready? Or do you need an hour?"
"Half an hour should be good, and if I'm late, don't take it personally. I'm going to take some time getting control of my crazy curls."
"No, leave them alone, and down, just like now. You look magical. Don't even waste your time."
"This is not my look, I
'm never this crazy and wild."
"I can tell. I see it, but nonetheless I love your hair raw and untamed. Maybe you should consider reinventing your style."
At some point, I feel we’re no longer just talking about my hair. How does he know? How does he sense it? His thumb runs across my forehead, and I look into his eyes.
"You’re doing it again. Stop. Just get ready and be yourself, no need to go through the trouble of perfecting something that’s already perfect."
He places a gentle kiss on my forehead and steps out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walks out of the bathroom in search of his now-dry swimming trunks. The door closes behind him, and I’m left with my thoughts. Why couldn’t I have met Alex under different circumstances, when we could have had a future together?
Nine
I decide to follow Alex’s advice and waste no time. After a quick towel drying, I head straight to the walk-in closet, where my clothes are hanging neatly. Being an obsessive control freak has its advantages. I flip through my outfits in search of something light, casual yet elegant. A perfect outfit is staring right at me. A white strapless dress that hugs my chest and waist in just the right way, with the skirt flowing down my hips to my knee. It’s practically see-through, so I decide on nude underwear, to create a naked look. I love white. Whether it’s linens or heavy sweaters, I'm a sucker for white. Too bad I don’t get to wear it often. My business wardrobe is primarily navy blues and charcoal greys, highlighted by the occasional pastel. I'm going to take full advantage of being in Miami. In fact, I need to go shopping tomorrow and pick out a few more white outfits, preferably linen. They would be perfect in this humid, hot weather.
I finish my outfit with a pair of white platform sandals that tie around my ankles. The white looks perfect against my now-tanned skin, the platforms making me just a bit taller and giving my legs a few extra inches, the ankle ties accentuating the look. I grab a white scarf to go over my shoulders in case I get chilly in the air-conditioned restaurant, and also to cover my hair while driving.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize I like my hair curly and messy. Besides, I cannot win the battle against the humidity here, especially if we're going to be driving with the top down.
And the last step: makeup. I want nothing dark or heavy, instead opting for a light, shimmery look. I apply a silvery, powdered eye shadow that makes my already big eyes look even bigger. A layer of mascara, some lip gloss, a quick spritz of my favorite perfume, and I’m ready to go.
One last glance in the mirror reveals very few similarities with the girl who came here a few days ago. A tired look and sad eyes are replaced with flushed cheeks and a smile that lights up my whole face and finally touches my eyes. The curls make me look much younger than my 27 years, especially combined with my barely-there makeup. The change is striking.
As I put on my white-gold watch, a graduation present from my parents, I realize the timing is perfect. I’m not late, even a few minutes early.
The valet guy takes my ticket and is on his way to get the car. I’m waiting patiently until I see it pulling up from around the corner. I step forward and get in as soon as the valet gets out. I put the top down and wait for Alex. Checking the instrument panel for GPS, I fail to notice him standing by the car. At some point I feel eyes on me, and I know it’s him even before I turn my head. I finally turn around to see a gorgeous male standing right by my car door, just a step behind me. He looks even better than he did on the beach, if that’s possible. He is wearing a white shirt with the top few buttons open, sleeves rolled up to reveal a pair of strong arms. The shirt hugs his muscular chest and hangs loosely around his waist. A pair of washed, light blue denims hangs low on his hips. I am openly ogling him.
He smiles, takes a step forward, and bends over to place a kiss on my lips.
"Hello, Angel!"
"Hi," I almost whisper back.
"So, I take it you’re driving?" He nods to my position behind the wheel.
"Yep, do you mind?"
"Nope, I trust you."
"You do? I mean it’s great you do, but really?"
"I don't have any reason not to."
"I guess you could say that, but do you have any reason to?"
"Do you need a reason to trust me?"
"Yes… No… I don't know. That depends I guess."
I can't help but think we’re talking about something bigger again. How does he do that? It's strange he would even raise such a serious topic, trust. Why point out the weakness in our relationship when, since we’re just having casual fun anyway, we could simply pretend it doesn’t exist? It's not like this is serious for him. It's just a short-lived vacation romance.
My thoughts are interrupted when he lowers to kiss my forehead. The gesture so simple, yet every time, it feels extremely intimate. His lips linger there just a second longer than usual, and I close my eyes and inhale his scent. He smelled like ocean and sun before, but now that scent is replaced with something fresh, masculine, with a hint of spice. It’s familiar, but more intense.
He lifts his lips and looks at me, my eyes still closed. I'm caught in a blissful moment of daydreaming. He chuckles softly and pecks my forehead gently one more time, as if to wake me up.
My eyes fly open, and I yelp when I realize I’ve been caught.
"You’re like a dream angel, you know that? One minute you’re here, and the next, you’re in your own dreamland."
"Sorry, I got carried away."
"It's ok, I’m used to it, and I think it's pretty cute."
He walks around the car and gets in.
"Want me to lead you or would you prefer the GPS?"
"Lead the way, mister!"
"With pleasure!"
We spend the next half hour driving, laughing, and talking about everything and nothing. I feel so at ease around him, not planning what to say next, not worrying what he’s going to think, not paying attention to how I look, not obsessing over what impression he’s going to get. It’s amazing and so unbelievable.
We arrive and park the car. I put the top back up, and we walk out of the parking garage tower.
He gives me a walking tour of Lincoln Avenue, around the small shops, cafes, and restaurants. We settle down in one of the small South American restaurants that have tables along the sidewalk. It’s decorated in orange colors, small tables topped with candles. The sun has set, making the whole scene incredibly romantic. I look over the menu, searching for something interesting and not too big.
"Want a suggestion?" Alex asks, noticing my indecision.
"Tell me, everything seems delicious, but I want something light."
"Fish. Baked, seared, or even raw if you don't mind it."
"Well, I like sushi, but I’m not sure how it’s done outside of Japanese cuisine."
"Let's get a couple of different ceviche dishes and you can pick the one you like."
"What’s ceviche?"
"In short, fish and other seafood in lime juice, topped with a variety of things, like cilantro, mango, bell peppers, tomatoes, or pineapples. Whatever you can think of. Every place does them differently, but they are great. Best of all, they use local fish that was just caught."
"Sounds delicious. I'm salivating already. What are you drinking?"
"Mojito, you?"
"I was just thinking the same." I wink at him.
"We think alike a lot."
He is smiling at me, and I have the biggest urge to kiss him. I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him to me, placing a deep kiss on his lips. He kisses me back, taking my other hand in his and running circles with his thumb.
The waitress arrives to take our order. Alex goes over the dishes and drinks with her, all the while holding my hand. The girl is ogling him openly, her eyes lingering around the open buttons of his shirt. I feel rather possessive of Alex, wanting to put my claim on him, let her know he is with me, off limits. He seems completely oblivious to her looks and simply holds my hand in his, gently r
ubbing it with his thumb. I look at him and realize he’s not even remotely interested in this girl. Regardless of her hot body and seeming availability, he simply does not care. He’s not pretending, not trying to look disinterested while sneaking a look at her. He's here with me and that's all that matters. As soon as he finishes ordering, his eyes are on mine again. One look and I forget all the worries I just had. Amazing!
We chat a while, waiting for the food to arrive. Our drinks come first, and Alex raises a toast.
"To you, my dream angel!"
I smile and click glasses with him. Sipping the mojito, I feel alcohol spreading through my body. I realize I did not eat anything today and driving back might be a problem.
"So, do you like convertibles?" This simple question makes his head fly up in surprise.
”Why? Do you want to know what I drive?" A cautious look crosses his face, but vanishes before I have the chance to get a good look.
"Not really, why? I was just wondering if you would like to drive back?"
The smallest wrinkles around his eyes and forehead relax, and he smiles back.
"Sure, I’d love to get a chance to drive your Audi."
I wonder what made him look tense. What could he be worried about? Maybe he had an accident, or something like that. I decide to not raise the subject again, since it clearly makes him uneasy.
As we finish dinner, Alex slips his credit card to the waitress before I have a chance to protest. He looks determined and I realize arguing is useless.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Yeah, sure, I’d love to.”
My hand is in his, my small palm fitting perfectly in his masculine one. We wander the small streets, making our way to Ocean Drive, where the party is on. Trying to move with the crowds of people, we soon give up and cross the street to walk along the beach walkway. There, the crowd is thinner, and the smell of the ocean is stronger. I can even hear the waves. Alex stops me and with a swift lift, sits me up on the stone pillar half-wall separating the beach sand from the walkway. He gently squeezes my calves and unties the straps of one sandal, then the other, taking them off completely. I look at him in surprise, not knowing what to expect next but too excited to protest. His hands slide from my ankles up to my knees, continuing their trail on the sides of my thighs. I try to push my knees together to relieve some of the tension he’s building, but Alex is standing right against the pillars. Our lips touch softly, breaths exchanged. My head falls back with Alex leaning further into me, his hands supporting me. My legs wrap around his as he intensifies the kiss, pushing me further back. My heart races with both arousal and fear of falling over the pillar. Legs crossed, I lace my arms under Alex’s elbows and hold on tight, our bodies pushed together, hearts beating against each other. We kiss for minutes, consuming each other, learning each other’s taste and curves, my hands gliding over Alex’s muscular back, remembering every ridge and valley. His fingers skim my thighs, whispery touches igniting a spark deep inside my core. He doesn’t even get close to the lace of my underwear, which is soaking wet by now. His passionate kiss and a hint of his touch are enough to make me a hot, wet mess.
ONE To Watch Me (The ONE Series, Part 1, Book 1) Page 7