by S. M. Koz
I lean over the edge to see beyond the metal separator between balconies. Toward the front of the boat, people are already getting off. Some of them stroll through gates into town, but most of them climb into large tour buses.
“Is this what you always sleep in?” Brad asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He presses his cheek against mine and squeezes.
I glance down and suddenly feel very exposed in the flimsy, skin tight material. I cross my arms over my chest.
“Hey,” he says, pulling my arms away. “I was enjoying the view.”
“So was everyone out there,” I reply, pointing toward the dock.
“Only if they have binoculars.”
He slides his hands over the strip of skin between my top and my shorts while leaving a tingling trail of kisses from my ear to my lips. I turn around and hang my hands loosely around his neck.
“Now, we’re really giving them a show,” I say with a smile.
“It’s about to get even better.” He moves his hands lower until they cup both sides of my butt. As much as I love the feeling of his hands on me, one of us has to be practical.
I grab his hands and pull them down between us. “Not with your parents right next door.”
He kisses my cheek. “They’re really hurting my game.”
“They’re parents. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”
He sighs and then says, “We don’t have much time anyway. The only tour I could get us on leaves in forty-five minutes.”
We spend the next half hour finishing breakfast, changing clothes, and packing a bag for our tour. Then, we go downstairs, meet at the designated spot, and take a five-minute bus ride to our destination.
I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the falls. Layers upon layers of rocks with cascading water link them together. Brad holds my hand and, together, we climb all the way to the top where we’re rewarded with a magnificent view of the river lined with ferns, towering trees, and short, wide-leafed and brightly flowered tropical-looking bushes.
We sit on a rock with water splashing against our backs and around our legs as it begins its downward journey. “Having fun?” he asks.
“You have no idea.” If someone a year ago had told me I’d be here now, I would have called them crazy. I’m still amazed by what’s happened. When I get home, I’m going to call Sherry and thank her again. If she hadn’t pulled me from my house, who knows what I’d be doing right now? Well, actually, I know. It wouldn’t be good.
He plucks a red flower from a nearby bush and slides it behind my ear. “Free romantic gesture number two,” he says with a smile.
I lean over and kiss his cheek. He’s always been sweet to me, but he’s going out of his way today after the incident at dinner. The effort and thought he’s putting into it makes him even more amazing than he already is.
After a few moments of silence, he says, “Dad’s disappointed I’m not stepping up more with the baby.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m a horrible, selfish person, aren’t I?”
“Selfish, yes. Horrible, no.”
“Do you think I’d be able to make time for him or her while I’m in college?”
“You seem to be able to do whatever you set your mind to.”
He’s quiet for a couple minutes before saying, “Mom said you’re thinking about NC Central for college.” He splashes his feet in a collecting pool between the rocks.
I tilt my head and study him, surprised by the change in topic. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”
“It’s in Durham.”
“I know.”
“Duke’s in Durham.”
“I know.”
A black bird caws overhead and we watch it fly from one treetop to another. “Maybe we could see each other every now and again?” he asks, pushing a floating leaf with his toe to the edge of the collecting pool.
“You’re assuming I’ll get in.”
“You’ll get in. I’m not worried.”
“Are you asking me out for some day like nine months from now?”
“I like to plan ahead.”
“Where will we go?”
“Taco Bell or McDonald’s.” The leaf returns and he pushes it again. “I know how opposed you are to nice restaurants.”
“There’s nothing wrong with chalupas and Big Macs.”
“Definitely right up there with lobster and bacon-wrapped tenderloin.” The leaf returns again. This time, he picks it up and tosses it into the forest. “If you’re lucky, I may even take you to Dairy Queen for dessert.”
“I love a good Blizzard.”
“Who doesn’t?”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warm air, cool water, beautiful scenery, and each other. I can’t imagine life ever getting any better than this.
As I watch a hummingbird dart from one bush to another, he reaches down and plucks the pile of leaves surrounding my feet in the water, tossing the handful into the forest next to his earlier one. “Free romantic gesture number three. Keeping your feet clean.”
God, I’m falling for this guy. Hard.
Chapter 32
HAILEY
“Let’s go this way,” he says, heading toward a door.
As soon as we step outside, the warm breeze whips and I have to grab my dress to keep it from flying over my head.
“I thought we could sit on the deck,” he yells in my ear, “but this wind is crazy!”
I nod and we walk along the wall to the next door where Brad pushes the button. The door whooshes and we both fall inside, thrown by the wind and rocking of the ship. We left Jamaica a couple hours ago and the breeze and ocean swells have been picking up steadily since then.
He grabs my arm to keep me from landing on my face. “Maybe our balcony won’t be so bad,” he suggests, heading for the elevator. When we get back to my room, we find a note from Gigi: Decided to go to the show and dancing after all. Be back late. Don’t wait up.
At dinner, they said they were undecided on what their night would hold, although Gigi really sounded like she wanted to go dancing. It seems she was able to convince Gil.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Brad says, lowering the paper to the vanity before kicking off his shoes. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves for a while.”
“Guess so,” I say, watching him in the mirror in front of us. He steps behind me and meets my eyes. Then, that mischievous grin I’ve grown to love comes out in full force. “Uh oh, that look means trouble,” I say as the fluttering starts to build in my chest.
“What look?” he asks innocently, still watching me in the mirror.
“Your wicked smile. It looks like you’re preparing for the biggest chess tournament of your life.”
“Close. Checker tournament.”
My lips reflexively curl into a smile at his words.
“I need a little pre-game warm-up,” he says, stretching his hands overhead.
“What exactly does that entail?”
Rather than answer, his hands run up the sides of my body, moving slowly past my chest, to my shoulders. Then, he leans over and barely brushes his lips under my ear.
“I had a great time with you today,” he murmurs, his mouth inching closer and closer to mine.
I had an unbelievable time. After climbing the falls, we laid on the sandy river beach where I got to secretly gawk at his body through sunglasses as he slept. After studying him and all the other half-naked tourists there, I decided he is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met. I am hopelessly attracted to him, not only physically, but in every other way, too. He treats me like someone special. I feel important around him. I feel strong around him like we could do anything together. I’ve never felt like this before, which makes me think there’s a good chance I’m falling in love with him. Not that I’d ever tell him right now.
“What happened to your pre-game warm-up?” I ask, turning around and placing my hands to his chest.
“Time for t
he main event.” He lowers his lips to mine and I taste the cherries jubilee we shared not too long ago. It’s sweet and tart and quickly works my butterflies into a real frenzy.
“You taste good,” I whisper between kisses, enjoying the fluttering in my chest. “Even better than dessert.”
I feel him smile against me. “I’d take this over dessert any day.”
Between his words, kisses, and the fresh, salty ocean air, I feel like I’m living a dream. My dreams from now on will definitely involve a cruise ship and Brad.
He reaches behind my back and lowers the zipper on my dress. His hands glide inside the fabric, sending tingles everywhere they touch. “I’ve wanted to do this since your zipper situation the other day,” he whispers, lowering his mouth to my collar bone.
“Hmmm … this is nice,” I murmur, running my hands through his hair.
He fingers glide lower and lower, finally clearing the elastic of my underwear. It turns the tingles to something stronger and causes the fluttering to migrate south. I squirm under his touch because it feels too good, and I know we probably shouldn’t be doing this right now.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“You really want to do this right here? Right now?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“What if they come back?”
“They’re not coming back.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yeah.”
“Absolutely positive?”
“Yes. The show won’t be over for another thirty minutes and then they’ll dance for at least an hour.”
I hope he’s right. Even though his parents are basically looking the other way on us dating, I don’t think they’d be pleased to come back to the cabin and find us in our underwear. I’m sure that’d be too much for even them to ignore.
“You’re positive?”
“Yes.”
I bite my lip, but my hormones ultimately win out. I rationalize that if he’s not worried, I shouldn’t be.
After stepping out of my shoes, I reach for his polo shirt and pull it over his head. Then I unbuckle his belt and help him slide his khakis over his hips, so he’s standing in just his boxers and socks. He removes my dress, then picks me up and carries me to my bed.
“Wow, an actual bed? This is luxurious compared to your car.”
He smiles and then rushes to the door where he latches the safety lock. He opens the closet door, too, so no one would be able to see the bed, even if they unlocked the door and opened it the crack allowed by the safety lock. He disappears to his room, makes some noise, and then returns.
“I thought you said you were absolutely positive they wouldn’t come back?”
“Double defense.”
“Of course.”
I don’t tell him, but I’m secretly relieved by his double defense. This makes me feel much better about the situation.
“Now, where were we?”
I grin and reply, “You had your hand down my pants.”
“That’s right.” He hurls himself onto the bed and then teases me, his fingers running along the elastic of my underwear.
“Lower,” I say.
He dutifully obeys and the tingling from earlier returns.
“Lower.”
He fingers continue their downward search, but fail to reach the area that most wants his touch.
“Lower.”
“What exactly do you want from me?” he whispers, kissing my neck, then moving to my chest.
“More of this.”
“How about this?” He pulls my bra down and refocuses his kissing efforts.
“Mmm hmm.”
“What else?”
I desperately want his fingers to continue their downward movement. He has to know that. I grab onto them and urge him even lower.
He lightly brushes against the area and I respond reflexively, pushing against his hand. “God, that’s good,” I say, pushing again and sighing at the overwhelming sensations that are totally foreign to me.
“Can I take over?” he asks.
I pause. Was I taking charge? I hadn’t even realized. I nod, let go of his hand, and try to stop my hips, but it’s nearly impossible. It’s like they have a mind of their own.
His delicate brushing from earlier takes on a more concentrated pattern, right where I need it. He expertly circles the area, alternating between feathery-light touches and rock-hard grinding. I close my eyes and give in to the sensations—the fluttering in my belly, the haze in my head, and the shivers running up and down my spine.
My body begins pushing against his hand again, slowly at first and then more quickly as he sets the pace with his touch. This time, I don’t stop myself. I give in and relish in the pleasure coursing through my body. It’s never been like this before and I don’t want it to ever stop.
But it does. Suddenly and without warning, every muscle in my body tenses in a coordinate wave from head to toe. I draw in a sharp gasp as my body shudders. Then, I fall back on the bed in a heap, shocked but feeling more content than I’ve ever felt.
“That was hot,” he says, kissing the hollow at the base of my neck.
“Uh-huh,” I reply, stunned by what just happened. I’ve never had that happen before. Ever. I pretended every time, but never got even close before. I often wondered if there was something wrong with me, but now I know there wasn’t. There was something wrong with Chase.
“Your turn,” I say, rolling over to face him, my heart still beating in my ears and my muscles still pulsing.
“You’re smiling.”
“You’re good.” I reach for his boxers, but he lowers his hand on top of mine to stop me.
“It’s okay. I don’t want to make a mess in here and I have no way of doing laundry. That could be hard to explain.”
“Who says we’ll make a mess?”
His eyes grow wide, letting me know he understands. “Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never …”
“Do you want to?”
“Well, yeah. If you do?”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“For the first time, I can truly say I do.”
He lies back with his arms folded behind his head, propping himself up.
His watchful eyes follow my every movement, from trailing my fingers up his legs to drawing down his boxers. My eyes widen at the sight of him, at seeing him fully naked for the first time. I’ve only seen one other guy in all his glory, but, I have to say, Chase wasn’t all that glorious. Everything about Brad is perfection. I waste no time kissing him absolutely everywhere, until his eyes close and he loses control.
“You’ve done that before,” he murmurs moments later in a lazy voice.
“Not when it meant anything.”
“I feel totally inadequate now.”
I lay down next to him, my head on the same pillow as him, as we both stare at the ceiling. “Why?”
“There’s no way I made you feel nearly as good as you made me feel.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. That was a first for me and it felt pretty amazing.”
He rolls on his side to face me. “Yeah?”
I meet his eyes and smile. “Yeah.”
“We make a good pair.”
“Definitely.”
Chapter 33
BRAD
“This is my favorite picture of you,” I say, holding up my phone for Hailey to see. “I love the look on your face. You look like you’re going to piss your pants!”
“That sting ray jumped out of the water, right at my face,” she says, rotating the phone to see the screen better. “I thought it was going to bite me.”
“I think they sting, not bite.”
She rolls her eyes. “And where were you during all this?”
“On the boat. Nice and safe.”
“You let her swim with sting rays by herself?” Dad asks from the front seat. We�
��re back in Pinehurst and just a few minutes away from the end of our vacation. As wonderful as it was, it will be nice to get home, celebrate Christmas in a few days, and have a little downtime before school starts back up. Plus, with Dad and Mom at work, Hailey and I will have plenty of alone time.
“I got in the water,” I say in a sad attempt to defend my manhood.
“That doesn’t count,” Hailey says, giving me my phone back. “You got in for like a minute and didn’t even touch any of them.”
“I wanted to make sure I was in a good position to save you in case anything happened. I could see everything from the boat.”
“My knight in shining armor,” she says, with a yawn before reaching for my hand across the seat. I give it to her and smile. It’s been a tiring day, but I’m hoping I can convince her to stay up at least a little later than my parents so we can take full advantage of the current state of our relationship. It’s been four days since we’ve hooked up. Four long days of trying to find a little privacy on the boat without any success.
We pull into the garage, and I start unloading the bags while Dad unlocks the door and turns off the alarm. He steps inside and then I haul the biggest suitcase up the stairs, as Mom and Hailey exit the car with smaller bags.
“Back in the car!” Dad yells, charging out the door and practically knocking me over.
“What?”
“In the car. Now!”
He’s not making any sense, but his urgency gets me moving. Mom and Hailey do the same and then he backs the car up, tires squealing, and peels out of the driveway.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks, gripping the dashboard.
“Call 9-1-1. Someone broke into our home.”
“What?” Mom and I ask at the same time. We live in Pinehurst. Safest city in North Carolina, possibly the country. Homes don’t get robbed.
“The house was trashed. I don’t know if they’re still in there, but we’re going to Andrea’s until the police check it out.”
“Trashed?” Mom asks, her voice cracking. She’s painstakingly decorated our house for the last twenty years, slowly gathering keepsakes from all our travels and every antique store in the southeast. “The artwork?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t get that far.”
“Please not the Monet,” she cries, her hands trembling as she dials her phone. The Monet is a family heirloom, passed down to her from her great, great, great-grandfather. He was a property owner in Germany and rented a house to Monet’s family. This was before he made it big as an artist. One month, Monet couldn’t afford rent, so he gave him a painting instead. I’m sure my relative had no idea how much it would eventually be worth or how it would inspire his great, great, great-granddaughter to become an art dealer. If it’s gone, she’s going to be devastated.