by Ava Claire
The car eased to a stop beside the nicest golf cart I’d ever seen. It took me a second to realize that Jacob wanted me to get out and I scrambled to join him, eyeing the tiny vehicle as he pulled the suitcases from the trunk of the Mercedes. I realized my first guess was wrong. It was a little too sleek and round to be a golf cart. It was one of those electric cars that one kept an eye out for when parking creatively downtown. But it was definitely the Bentley of electric cars with glossy red paint and dark leather seats.
The driver smiled at me, speaking in thick, accented English. “Called a mule.”
“A mule?” I answered, skimming my fingers on the metal frame. “It’s the nicest mule I’ve ever seen.”
I walked to a low hanging branch, bright pink flowers as delicate as the breeze glittering in the sun. I plucked one and spun it between my pointer and thumb before sweeping my hair behind my ear and perching it against the pushed back curls. Jacob slid behind the wheel and I scooted into the seat beside him, clutching the sidebar as he reversed, then the small car jerked forward up the hill. The strip of fabric meant to be a seatbelt was what I held onto for dear life as we skittered up to the house. Mule? The thing was closer to a golf cart on steroids.
I didn’t even mind that he swerved a bit near the end, locking eyes with me and catching my reaction. I stepped out of the mule, hesitating as I gazed at the open front door, down through the front entryway and out to the sea.
“Jacob...” I moved closer, eyeing the beautiful tile work that led up to the house, the rustic, yet classic lines of the hardwood exterior entryway. It had such a lived in, casual elegance from the built in shelving to the chic white furniture.
The island was the star of the show. Everything was bright, lush and tropical. I felt like I was in paradise when I stepped out on the back deck. The crystal pool opened up to a sky as blue as the water that flowed past the horizon.
“What do you think?” Jacob came up behind me, wrapping me in a warm embrace as he drew me close to his chest.
“It’s incredible.” I gripped his arms and did a bonafide happy dance. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”
He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I felt another part of him stir. “You know the first thing we have to do?”
I had a pretty good idea, but I played dumb, spinning around and bringing one arm up, then the other. “What’s that?”
He swept my hair back then brought his fingertips back to my face, skimming my jaw line and sending sparks through me. “Make every area of this place ours.”
My breath came ragged, my body already onboard. His to command. His to do with as he wished.
I managed to perk and eyebrow and play coy in spite of the overwhelming desire to jump him. “Every area on Mustique?”
His eyes flashed as the side of his mouth twitched and he brought his hands down until they dropped on my fly. “I like ambition.” He brought the zipper down in one single pull. “How about we start with the villa?”
I turned my mouth up to his. His mouth was warm and hungry as I loosened his belt and fly, thankful that it wasn’t an obstacle to be conquered. Everything was easier here, my anxieties relaxing and letting him strip me down and he followed suit. I imagined a four poster bed with sheer mosquito netting draped luxuriously around each post, but he didn’t take me back indoors.
I watched him stride toward the pool’s edge, a living statue of muscle and sin. I could literally watch him walk back and forth, buck naked and come without even touching myself. But once he submerged himself in the water and gave me a look, I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy...and I had to force myself to maintain my composure and not bolt into his arms and cannonball into the water.
I loved the way the air felt on me. I loved the way his eyes felt on me. Touching, lingering without lifting a finger.
I found my way down the stairs. The weight of the water coated me as he took my hand and stopped me on the bottom step.
“Right here.”
I frowned. “Here?” I bit my lip. “On the steps?” His movements answered me as he lowered me down. My bottom made contact with the slick surface and he came forward, spreading me. He drew his cock up and down my opening until I found myself lifting my hips and pleading with my eyes.
“You want me inside you.”
There was no holding back the moan when he thrust inside me, a single, piercing thrust before he slid out, tempting my entrance again. Waiting for my answer.
“Yes.” I breathed deeply. “I need you inside me.”
His eyes were as blue and soothing as the water as moved in me. Skin to skin. Heart to heart.
His fingertips caressed my wet skin, tugging at my nipples until he could wait no longer. He drove into the water and gripped my bottom, drilling deeper, harder, eyes no longer soothing but fierce and wild.
He balanced my bottom with one hand, using the other to find my clitoris and rotated his thumb around it slowly and quickly. The speed, his hands, our bodies built to a maddening pitch.
“I’m so close,” I gasped, arching up as I felt my toes curl and the electricity of the orgasm close enough to light me up from head to toe.
“Come,” he said thickly, his thrusts more demanding, his face contorting with his own proximity to bliss, everything taut and feral as I felt the warmth of him filling me.
Paradise. It was more than this Caribbean escape. Heaven was in his arms.
Heaven was Jacob.
****
"Leila?"
I twisted in the covers, the soft Egyptian cotton too perfect to give up. "Five more minutes, Jacob." I figured he'd be more than a little understanding considering he was the reason I was so exhausted in the first place.
The pool had been just the beginning. He took me on the stairs, then up against the side with my legs on his shoulders, showing me I was much more flexible than I gave myself credit for. We'd barely made it back inside the house before I got to see the craftsmanship of the travertine tiles up close and personal. And then there was washing up. Water raining around me beneath the rain fall shower head--with his head between my thighs.
The room came in focus, but I squeezed my eyes shut. I let out a groan and flipped the other way.
"Leila?"
My eyes flew open. That wasn't Jacob's voice. I lurched from the bed, yanking the sheets to my chest. I wasn't naked to the world since I'd pulled on a tank at some point in the night, but I was close enough considering there was some strange woman standing in the doorway.
She didn't seem threatening, standing in the door with a mug in her hand. She had to be barely five feet with a petite frame to match. Her features were angular and accentuated by a pageboy haircut and white blond hair. She wore a heather gray Ramones T-shirt, cut off denim shorts and cowboy boots. She obviously wasn’t there to steal my clothing because I could tell just from looking at her she was more fashion conscious than my wardrobe could provide. Not to mention my clothes would swallow her tiny frame whole.
She arched a single eyebrow, intensely blue eyes taking me in warily.
I would have put a hand on my hip if that meant not releasing the cover. She was an intruder. I’d be doing all the glaring, thank you very much.
I came forward a step, balling the sheet in my fist and trying to seem more threatening than I really felt.
"I don't know who you are, but my husband--" I paused, surprised by the word coming out my mouth so effortlessly. At first I thought it was because I was frightened and somehow, husband sounded better than fiancé. But it felt so natural on my tongue, even if it wasn't exactly true.
The woman walked to the mahogany dresser near the door and lowered the mug. "I’m Naomi. Mr. Whitmore is finalizing the wedding plans.” Her voice had an Australian lilt. “He sent me here to show you the dress options and help you decide on a bouquet and hair." The sides of the woman's mouth curled upward in amusement. "Relax. I'm here to help." She gestured at the cup. "It's fresh.” She snapped her fingers, and fished a note
out of her pocket, dropping it beside the coffee. “Why don't I let you get dressed and you can meet me in the sitting room? A friend of yours is waiting to video chat--"
I dropped the sheet. "Megan?"
Naomi inclined her head, her bight eyes twinkling. "She told me to tell you to 'hurry up so she can yell at you in person'." She turned to go. “I’ll be right outside.”
I was still catching up, smiling like an idiot because Megan was going to be apart of my day. I told her my name and that it was nice to meet her even though it was obvious she knew exactly who I was.
Once I was alone I went to the dresser and picked up the folded note, relaxing a little when I saw Jacob’s handwriting.
All of the paperwork came through this morning. Tonight, I’m making you my wife.
Naomi comes highly recommended.
I’ll see you on the beach, Lay.
xx Jacob
I brought the note up to my nose, sniffing it like I expected to smell some hint of him. Just seeing those words were enough to make sparks light in my chest.
I went to my overnight bag, pulling out a pair of cotton shorts and a bra and shimmied into something presentable in record time. I pulled out one of the scarves and tied it around my head, holding back my frizzy locks.
I grabbed the coffee and took a hearty gulp before I stepped out in the hall. I heard the early morning sounds of the island mixing with a familiar voice and stepped into the room beside the entrance.
Naomi was holding a strand of pearls in front of the computer.
"That's a little too formal for the beach--Leila!"
Naomi stepped to the side and I rushed forward, almost hugging the monitor. "Oh my god, Meg! It's like you're here!"
She huffed, flipping her red hair with faux annoyance. "I wish. I'd much rather be on a Caribbean island than grading these papers, that's for sure!" She smiled, dropping the joke and nodding with approval when Naomi came up with a pair of diamond earrings and held them beside my head. They were studs but they caught all the light in the room and glittered like stars. "Those are perfect! What do you think?"
"They're beautiful, but--"
"Naomi, can you show her my favorite dress?"
I whipped around as the woman shuffled to a metal rack and thumbed through until she got one with a pink tag near the back.
"Oh wow."
Naomi held it out as I took it in. It had two thin straps with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice swept to one side with a thin white sash that highlighted the breezy fabric. The bottom flowed to the ground, the chiffon light and airy. It was the perfect dress for the beach. Elegant but whimsical. It was a little bit of him--powerful, rich; and a little bit of me--unruly and free.
It was perfect.
I touched it fondly with my fingers, caressing the fabric. "You picked this out?"
"I thought it was weird when Jacob called me to get the store’s information.” When I turned back to her, confused, she gave me a tiny smile. "Yes, I picked them out. Well, me and your mom. We were going to show them to you during the dress shopping appointment next week."
I hung my head guiltily. I'd robbed them of the moment. Of the memory. "I'm so sorry Megan. And Mom--"
She held up a hand. "Don't you dare apologize! We're so freaking proud of you for doing something that makes you happy. This is your day, Leila."
I felt the tears pricking my eyes so I cleared my throat. "I still wish you were here."
"Me too." She said fanning her own tears. "If it makes you feel better, it wouldn't have worked out anyway. Scott's been starting trouble with our boss and--" She stopped, shaking her head like she was clearing out some terrible image. "You know what? This isn't about me. Not today."
I wanted to find out what was going on with Scott, but something in the way her eyes flashed told me she didn't want to talk about it. Like she could sense the tension, Naomi came up behind me.
"How about her hair?" Naomi looked at me and gave me a pensive look. "May I?"
I pulled the scarf off, not sure she knew what she was getting herself into. "Good luck."
She pulled it into a low ponytail. "A bun would be pretty." She released it. "Or something half up and half down?"
Megan tapped a finger on her chin. "How about if you did something with braids or twists with all of it down?"
I gave her a skeptical look.
"Just go with it." Megan looked to Naomi. "I'm seeing two braids on each side sweeping to the back and soft curls flowing down her back."
Naomi turned to me, narrowing her eyes as she studied me, like she was picturing it before she nodded, slowly, then more enthusiastically. "It'll be beautiful!"
I still wasn't completely sold, but I figured anything would be better than the frizzy mess I had at the moment.
"I'll give you two some time alone," Naomi said, releasing her hold on my hair and stepping to the side. "Do you need anything before I gather the things for tonight?"
I shook my head and she and Megan said their goodbyes before we were in the room alone.
"Private island, servants--you're living the life, Lay," she teased, green eyes glimmering.
"My heads still spinning," I laughed, pulling up a chair and collapsing with a sigh. "I can't believe I'm getting married tonight." I bit my lip, the tears coming back. "And my best friend in the world won't be there."
It was almost ironic in the worst possible way. With every headline about the event the press coined ‘The Whitmore Affair’ I winced, pretty much praying for something to happen and put a stop to it. Eloping with Jacob was something I didn't even think was an option--and the rueful look on Megan's face was enough to remind me that running away with the man of my dreams did have a price.
I pulled at a fuzzy curl, not looking at the screen because it was a sure fire bet that I would start sobbing uncontrollably.
"Looks like I'm gonna break my promise."
"What promise?" she sniffled.
"You beside me on my wedding day," I said softly, a tear breaking free and dashing onto my cheek.
"Look at me, Leila."
I swept the tear away and brought my eyes up to her tear splotched face.
"I am gonna be beside you."
I made a face. "Yeah, yeah--in spirit."
"You see that white box over near the rack? On the little bookshelf?"
I slid back from the desk and went to the bookcase, a single white box with an ivory bow on it sitting on top of a leather bound copy of Great Expectations.
I picked it up and lifted the lid and let out a tiny gasp, my heart swelling in my chest. Inside on a bed of cotton was a circle of gold links, a thin strip of white and blush fabric wrapped around the length of it.
I took it out, looping it around my wrist. "Megan...this is gorgeous."
"I'm a pretty big fan of it myself."
I'd been ready to stick my tongue out at her until I glared at the screen and saw her holding up her own wrist. She was wearing the same bracelet.
My whole face tingled with emotion as I brought my hand to my mouth, not even bothering to pretend my face wasn't melting. "It's...like...the..."
"Cutest friendship bracelet ever?" She finished in between tears of her own.
I nodded, looking down at it again, then back at her. "Not the same as you being here, but this means more to me than I can even say."
She used her t-shirt to wipe her eyes. "You're gonna be absolutely gorgeous."
I chewed on my bottom lip. "Yeah?"
"Hell yeah." She pulled her hair up, her face going serious. "I've already informed Jacob that billionaire or not I will seriously injure him if he breaks your heart."
"Is that right?" I laughed, sitting back down.
She gave me a solemn nod before bursting into laughter. "I better go get ready for school. Call me the minute you're back in the States, okay?"
I gave her a salute and stared at the blank screen for a few minutes after she signed off before admiring the bracelet. Wiping a few happy tears
that swept down my cheek, I went back to the rack where my dress hung.
The dress I'd wear when I became Mrs. Whitmore.
****
I stood in front of the full length mirror and I could barely recognize myself. My eyes swept up from the floor, over the glossy layers of the chiffon, fingers guiding the way until I stopped at the sash, inhaling as Naomi did a slow circle around me, tucking and smoothing.
“It’s really happening,” I said softly, butterflies beating in my stomach. My cheeks flushed and my hands were clammy with sweat. “I’m really getting married.” I paused at my lips, almost bringing my hand to my mouth before I realized I would have smudged the beautiful job Naomi had done. All the joy and excitement I felt came through the glow of my cheeks. My brown eyes were enhanced and rich. My lips were lush with just the right amount of gloss to make me tremble as I wondered what it would be like to kiss him after our vows were exchanged.
To be his wife.
I felt the tears come back and Naomi clucked her tongue with disapproval. “No crying! You’ll mess up my work,” she chided, but not even her frown could hide the hint of a smile. She came back toward me with a small bunch of tropical pink flowers. “Hibiscus for your hair.”
I turned back to the mirror, lowering myself so the petite woman had better access to my hair. I couldn’t get over how she made the braids work with my curls without me looking like a hot mess. She’d parted the front of my hair into four sections and after taming the wiry bunches, braided each into a fishtail. Then she connected each strand and pinned it towards the back. When she finished, my hair was sleek in the front, with the braids acting as a headband with a few free tendrils drifting down my shoulders. The back was conditioned and springy instead of frizzy and poofy. She was right about how it would bring together casual and sleek. It captured the island’s relaxed vibe but the order and soft curls made it sophisticated.