by Kira Blakely
Lindsey’s right. I shouldn’t be sad or worried. I’m here on my honeymoon, after all.
Remembering what Lindsey said, I go to my suitcase. How on Earth did she even manage to slip something in?
After a few seconds, I find the item – a black one-piece swimsuit with a plunging halter neckline and a lattice back with cut-outs on the sides.
What the hell? Is this even a swimsuit? It’s revealing more than it’s covering! There’s no way I’m going to wear something like this in public.
Then I find the note.
Rekindle the flame. Don’t let him look at anyone else but you.
I frown. I can’t say the flame’s burning out, though I have to admit since Marius was born, Grant and I haven’t been having sex as much as we used to. And more often than not, the sex is rushed. It’s like we’re on a timer, or like we’re only doing it because we should or need to and not because we really want to.
Maybe it’s time to bring back the desire.
“So, how’s Marius?” Grant asks, coming out of the bathroom.
Quickly, I shove the swimsuit back in my suitcase.
“Great.” I give him a smile. “He doesn’t miss me at all.”
Grant dries his hair with a towel. “Hey, don’t take it the wrong way, okay? I’m sure he loves you. He’s just… carefree.”
“I know.” I stand up. “And don’t worry. I’m not upset. In fact, I’m ready to have some fun.” I give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Great.”
“Just let me take a shower and then we’ll go have breakfast, okay?”
***
“What exactly is this?” Grant asks as he holds up a piece of the reddish brown meat on his plate with his fork.
“Tocino,” I inform him. “Basically, it’s sweet, cured pork. And that side dish is salted egg with tomatoes and strips of raw papaya. They go well together.”
“I see.” Grant eats the piece of meat and then some of the side dish. “It’s not half bad.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I smile, eating my own chunk of tocino with some of the garlic fried rice.
Since we arrived yesterday, we’ve been eating almost exclusively Filipino food. So far, Grant has liked all of it. He even loves the kare-kare and the lechon. Then again, I’ve only asked him to eat food that I like or would normally eat, not stuff like balut, or chicken feet, or soup made with a bull’s penis. That would seem unfair. Maybe even mean.
“So, is this the kind of breakfast you’d have everyday?” Grant asks.
“Heavens, no.” I eat another spoonful of rice. “The rice, maybe. But only with egg – regular egg, not salted egg – and dried fish or hotdog.”
“Hotdog?” He raises an eyebrow. “You eat hotdog for breakfast?”
“Yes, with rice. Kids who go to school usually eat it for lunch, too.”
Grant nods. “Interesting.”
I grab my cup of coffee. “Those who work don’t have time to cook, though, so they usually have pan de sal, which they dip in coffee or instant noodles.”
“I see.”
As I gently blow on the surface of my coffee, the image of my grandmother, my lola, in her loose, floral dress comes to mind, sipping coffee in her old blue and white cup on a makeshift bench outside our house.
Strange. How am I suddenly remembering that after all this time? And so clearly, too.
I wonder if she’s still alive. Maybe if Grant and I have some time, we can go…
No. I set aside the idea. Even if she’s still alive, she might not want to see me. Or she might have forgotten all about me like old people sometimes do.
Who knows how she is now? Maybe she doesn’t go to church every morning anymore like she used to. Maybe she doesn’t drink coffee anymore. I don’t even know if Filipinos still eat the same breakfast I used to. Who knows how much has changed?
I take a sip of my coffee, glancing around at the other tables. Well, it doesn’t seem like much has changed. As far as I can remember, the other Filipinos still dress the same and talk the same. The only difference is that they now have their phones on the table.
As my gaze wanders over to the corner, my eyes meet with a woman’s. She looks away as soon as our eyes meet, but I’ve already caught her staring. She’s not the only one, either. I’ve been catching women staring at me this whole trip. They’re probably wondering how long I’ve lived in the US or, more likely, how I met the man I’m with. No doubt they think I’m some kind of slut or that I don’t deserve him simply because they’d rather have him for themselves. Crab mentality, they call it.
Well, some things never change.
“Is something wrong?” Grant asks, wiping his lips with the table napkin.
“Nothing.” I set my cup down. “I guess it just feels weird. I feel like I belong here, but at the same time, I feel like a stranger.”
“Hey.” Grant reaches across the table to place his hand over mine. “Don’t pay attention to whatever anyone thinks, and definitely don’t let it dictate how you feel.”
I nod then smile as I look down.
“What?” Grant asks, eyebrows creased.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “I’m just glad I’m surrounded by people who give such good advice.”
He chuckles. “You mean you’re surrounded by people who love you.”
He’s right, of course. I am lucky to have so many people who love me, especially this man in front of me. I’d be a fool to ever take him for granted.
I take his hand in both of mine as I look into his eyes. “I promise to make this honeymoon the best ever.”
“You don’t have to,” Grant says. “I know it will be.”
The warmth in his eyes takes my breath away, at the same time causing warmth to well in my chest. When did he get to be so sweet? Now that I think about it, though, since Marius was born, he’s been taking better care of me while taking a step back so that I can take care of myself and Marius first.
Why am I only noticing this now?
“You’re right. It will be,” I tell him then pull my hand away to continue eating. “If we ever get away from this table, that is. What do you say we finish breakfast so we can get to the more fun stuff?”
Grant picks up his spoon. “My thoughts exactly.”
I shove another spoonful of food into my mouth, smiling. Again, Lindsey’s right. This is my special time with Grant. We deserve this. We need this. I shouldn’t waste any moment of it.
“So, what are we doing today again?” Grant asks, slicing a piece of tocino. “Swimming?”
“Not just swimming.” I get another sip of my coffee. “We’re doing the whole tour of the islands.”
***
The islands of El Nido have been named among the most beautiful islands on Earth several times, and as we go on our private tour in our small, rented boat with our twenty-something guide, I understand why. Every island is shrouded in its own brand of mystique and surrounded by spectacular scenery. It’s almost as if every island is a different world in a fantasy realm, a chunk of paradise that delights the senses and soothes the soul.
The waters are all clear, calm and of different colors – some deep blue, some calming green, some enchanting turquoise, some almost colorless.
At first, I’m just content to stare like an astronomer mesmerized by the stars. But as we come to a lagoon, I can no longer resist. I stand up and start taking off my shirt.
Seconds later, I hear a whistle. I turn my head to find Grant staring at me, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
So, he likes the new swimsuit, does he?
“Oh, stop it,” I scold him halfheartedly, taking off my shorts after turning my back to him so he doesn’t see me blush. “I don’t look as well as I used to.”
“Says who?”
The mirror, I want to tell him. Everyday, it reminds me of the weight and stretchmarks I’ve gained since pregnancy, especially around my waist. I’m starting to feel like I’ll never get my old body back.
&
nbsp; “You look just as hot to me,” Grant says. “Hotter even.”
My cheeks grow warmer. Me? Hotter? I admit my breasts have grown a bit bigger and my hips have grown wider... but hotter? He isn’t just saying that to make me feel good, is he?
No, I conclude as I meet his gaze again. He looks absolutely sincere, which makes my skin burn a little more.
Oh, come on, Abby. Stop acting like a virgin. It’s not like this is the first time Grant’s given you this look. Besides, he’s already seen everything, remember?
Yes, he has. But it seems like he’s looking at me for the first time, and I’m reacting like I did before he first touched me.
It’s exciting, yes. And yet, this isn’t just lust. This is love.
I have nothing to fear.
I smile, putting a hand on my hips. “You’re not just going to stare at me all day, are you?”
Grant grins. “Tempting, but no.”
He takes off his shirt as well then his own shorts so that he’s just in his royal blue trunks.
Now I feel like whistling, except I can’t because my mouth’s hanging open. While I was getting out of shape, Grant seems to have been getting more in shape. Come to think of it, he’s been joining marathons and climbing rocks and mountains. His chest looks bigger, his stomach packed with more muscle and his arms and legs more defined.
Again, I’m only noticing this now?
In spite of myself, my gaze is drawn to his Speedo, particularly to the bulge there.
Well, that’s grown bigger, too.
I tear my gaze away, looking at the water instead as I walk to the edge of the boat.
It seems like both of us need some cooling off.
I stretch my arms and take a deep breath. “Time for a swim.”
***
For the next few hours, Grant and I go swimming and snorkeling, not just in that lagoon but in neighboring waters, some deep and some shallow. Then we decide to take a break for lunch: grilled seafood and vegetables that our guide, Tomas, helps me prepare.
“You’re Filipino, aren’t you?” he asks in the native language as he scoops some rice onto the plate I’m holding.
“Yes,” I answer readily, no longer ashamed of it.
“How long have you been living in America?”
“More than twenty years.”
“Wow.” Tomas gives me a look of surprise. “And you only came home now?”
“Yes.”
I set down the plate I’m holding and lift another for him to put rice on.
“Where do your parents live?” he asks.
“They’re gone but I have relatives in Cavite.”
“Have you gone to visit them?”
Wow. I didn’t know Tomas was so chatty.
“No,” I tell him.
“Why not?”
I shrug, not knowing the answer. Maybe I should go see them?
But even if I want to, I can’t just leave Grant nor can I bring him all the way to Cavite just to meet them. That would be unfair to him, especially since this is our honeymoon.
“Hey,” Grant interrupts the silence. “He’s not flirting with you, is he?”
“No,” I tell him, handing him a plate. “We’re just talking.”
“Please don’t worry,” Tomas assures. “I have a girlfriend back in Puerto Princesa. We’re getting married soon.”
“Really?” Grant raises an eyebrow. “Good for you.”
“Congratulations,” I tell him. “Oh, and your English is quite good.”
Tomas smiles. “Thank you.”
Grant and I leave him, sitting at a table with our heaping plates in front of us.
I take a sniff. “Smells good.”
“Eat up.” Grant pops a grilled scallop into his mouth. “We still have lots to do.”
***
After lunch, we continue our exploration, swimming, diving and even hiking to the top of a cliff to enjoy some great views. Then in the late afternoon, Tomas takes us to a hidden white sand beach where he leaves us.
“Where is he going?” I ask, alarmed as he sails off.
“Don’t worry,” Grant tells me. “He’ll be back in an hour. That should give us plenty of time.”
I look at him with creased eyebrows. “For what?”
“This.”
He grabs me by the waist and kisses me, his lips taking mine captive. I close my eyes and kiss him back, one of my hands becoming entangled with his still damn hair, the other caressing his nape as his hands move up to caress my back.
When his hands reach my nape, his lips part, his tongue melding with mine. I feel the heat all the way to my toes, which curl into the warm sand, and I place my arms around him as my knees tremble.
The salty breeze blows my hair into my face, creating a veil over me and Grant. I brush the strands away then place my hands on Grant’s chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath my palms.
He pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. I feel the hardness between his legs and it causes an ache between mine.
I’m breathless, weak, aching, wanting.
I’m a mess.
Damn. I’ve forgotten how amazing this feels.
Suddenly, Grant pulls away. I kneel on the sand, unable to remain standing as my head continues to reel. He goes over to his backpack, opening it.
“What are you doing?” I ask him as soon as I’ve caught some of my breath.
He doesn’t answer, just pulling out the large, colorful towel that he spreads out on the sand. Then he grabs me and puts me on it before it flies off, pushing me down.
“Wait.” I place my hands on his chest as some of my sense returns. “We’re going to do it here? Right now?”
Sure, we’ve had sex outdoors before, but that was in a tent. This is out in the open.
“Why not? We’re alone.”
He glances around and so do I. He’s right. There’s no one else on this beach. Even so…
“What if someone comes?” I voice out my concern. “What if Tomas comes back?”
“He won’t,” Grant assures. “I’ve paid him enough to stay away and to make sure others do, too.”
I see. That’s good. But wait. That means…
“You told Tomas we were going to…?” I blush, unable to finish.
Grant chuckles as he brushes a wisp of my hair aside. “What? He’s not a child, and he knows we’re married.”
I pout, still embarrassed. He’s right, though. There’s nothing wrong with it.
There’s nothing wrong with us having sex on this secluded beach right now. I’m not sure I want to, though. What if the sand gets… well, in places it shouldn’t get to? I may have become a little less of a germaphobe since I had a baby, mainly because it’s impossible to keep things neat and orderly with a baby in the picture, but I still prefer things as clean as they can be.
I purse my lips. “Can’t we wait until we go back to the hotel?”
“No. I’ve been waiting to fuck you all day.” He placing a hand on my cheek. “Ever since I saw you in this black swimsuit.”
He stares at the outfit, though I wonder whether he’s really seeing it or what’s beneath it.
“Do you like it?” I ask him, touching his arm.
He takes my hand and places it on his crotch. “Does this answer your question?”
His erection throbs, straining against my palm, and I draw a deep breath. “No.”
“No?” His eyebrows furrow.
“I don’t know if it’s the swimsuit or me that’s earned this reaction.”
“Well, it’s both.” He places his hands on either side of me. “It’s all of you. I want all of you, Abby. Don’t you want me?”
Right. I’ve been keeping my husband waiting far too long. To hell with the sand. I can’t wait any longer, either.
Instead of answering, I place my hands behind Grant’s neck, pulling his face lower as I lift mine to kiss him. He lies down beside me, our arms and legs entwining as our mouths and hands devour each other.
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sp; His fingers become entangled with my hair. His hand caresses my neck, my shoulders, my arms. He squeezes my ass then runs his fingers through the back of one of my quivering thighs.
I climb on top of Grant, pinning his arms down as I take control of the kiss, pushing my tongue deeper into his mouth to taste every inch.
I want him. I always have and always will.
I pull away to breathe and wipe the trail of saliva that has trickled down my chin then brace myself on his chest as I grind against him, feeling his cock through the elastic fabrics between us.
God, I want him.
My sex aches, weeping as it longs for him. I bend backwards, closing my eyes and letting my hair flow past my shoulders as I throw my head back and continue grinding, savoring the exquisite friction.
My eyes fly open as I feel his palms on my breasts, slipping under my swimsuit to cup, rub, and caress. I continue grinding, keeping my head back as I relish each new sensation, gasping when his fingers find my nipples and twist them playfully.
Oh, God.
He pushes my swimsuit off my shoulders, my breasts springing free. I shiver, the air feeling cold against them but then Grant sits up and takes one inside his mouth and I shiver for a different reason.
He lies back down then pulls my hips forward, all the way to where his head is. Then he pushes aside that strip of my swimsuit that is soaked with the essence of my arousal and starts licking.
I fall forward, my hands clawing at the soft sand, burrowing into it as the pleasure churns inside me, that wicked tongue plundering my very core. My hair flows over my face like a veil, swaying in the breeze. I gasp. I moan. I cry softly. The pleasure is too much, his finger teasing my sensitive nub even as his mouth feasts on me, his tongue swiping at all the right spots.
My head spins. My breath comes in gasps.
Yes! No. Not… there!
I come, my orgasm washing over me like a strong wave, sweeping me away and knocking me over. Gasping for air, I climb off Grant, sitting on the towel. He doesn’t give me much time to catch my breath, though, as he spreads my legs and kneels between them before lowering his trunks to give me a glimpse of his hard cock.
I want to stare at it a little more. Fuck, I want to touch it, taste it, but Grant wasn’t joking when he said he was at the limits of his patience.