Him and I

by Melody Eve

  Nerves scramble my brain, and I laugh as I swim further away from him. My depth is of no concern to this man full of possessive insanity, in fact, it may be propelling him.

  “Aria, come here this instant! This isn’t a nude beach. It’s not even a topless beach for Christ’s sake!” he yells before diving underwater in my direction. Oh my God, for the first time since I let spontaneity take over, I worry about the repercussions of my actions.

  What will he do when he catches me? He will catch me of that I am sure. I can see crazy in his eyes. He’s angry, and I am wild. He is possessive, and I need to be free. He is controlling, and I am rebellious.

  I dart to the right, but it’s too late. His hand closes around my ankle, and I take in a huge breath right before he pulls me under. I can’t see him, my eyes are closed because of the salty water, but his hands are around my waist hauling me to the surface.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind, woman? Somebody could have seen you.”

  I try to blink the water from my eyes since he has my arms pinned to my sides. “So?”

  “So? You just finished telling me that you’re mine while we are here, and in case you haven’t noticed, we are still here!” he shouts, and I recoil. I’ve never been shouted at by a man, especially right in my face.

  I roll my lips inward and hold my breath unsure of what to say or do next. It turns out I don’t have to say or do anything. He turns toward the shore and starts walking us in that direction pushing through the water with such force it leaves a wake behind us. I know, I looked!

  He turns me in his arms so that my front is plastered to his hiding my breasts from onlookers’ eyes of which there are only two—an elderly man and his wife sunning in lounge chairs a couple of doors down. I wave at them, and the woman waves back smirking in solidarity.

  Roman is overreacting. I’m naked, so what? Women all over the world sunbathe topless and nude. He’s acting like I committed a felony.

  “Stop fraternizing with the neighbors,” he growls. How did he know I waved?

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Oh yeah? You’re not swimming naked anymore, are you?”

  “Because you hauled me out of the water like a sack of potatoes!”

  “A sack of potatoes has more sense than you right now.”

  “I don’t think I like your tone.”

  “I don’t like your defiance,” he says storming through the patio doors with his clothes dripping water all over the carpets. He doesn’t stop to put me down. Instead, he makes a bee-line for the bedroom. Goodie!

  He tosses me on the bed, and I laugh. I can’t help it, he is being so absurd. “You’re a caveman, Roman Forrest. You know that, right?”

  He closes the door to the bedroom.

  “You act like I’m your wife.”

  He shoves his hand through his silky black hair and unbuttons his wet shirt.

  I pull a sheet over myself suddenly feeling exposed and nervous.

  “You don’t own me, you know,” I say, but he says nothing and walks in his squishy shoes to the edge of the bed and yanks the sheet off the bed.

  “Hey!”

  “You wanted to be naked so bad, why the sudden modesty?” he snaps.

  “Because it’s my body to do with as I please. I wanted to skinny dip out there, and now I want to cover myself in front of you. You’re acting like a loon.”

  “I’m acting like a man who doesn’t want to share his woman with the whole fucking world!” He unzips his slacks and shoves them down along with his black boxer briefs. He kicks off his shoes and socks and crawls up the bed pushing me down to hover over me.

  Unsure of how far to go, I lower my voice but stand my ground. “I’d hardly say that grandma and grandpa are the whole world, and since when am I your woman?”

  “Since the first time I put my mouth on you,” he says and lowers himself down to take my mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. My toes curl, my belly flips, and I fight the urge to wrap my arms and legs around him for oh, maybe two seconds, tops.

  Groaning, I press myself against him and without warning, he thrusts inside of me. I cry out, and he begins to thrust in and out of me at a deliciously punishing pace. Our faces are buried in each other’s necks. I’m holding on for life while he fucks me for defying him, and somewhere in my mind, my minx is furiously writing down ways to defy him again, and again, and again.

  The only sounds in the room are flesh against flesh, ocean waves, and panting as he delivers his own kind of punishment. The problem is, I fucking love this kind of punishment. It’s almost worth his overbearing, possessive, bossy, and controlling ways until he pulls out and comes all over my belly and breasts when I’m on the cusp of one giant orgasm.

  “Hey!” I say flopping my arms out to my sides smacking the mattress with frustration. He looms over me, stroking his cock in long, drawn-out pulls until he has spewed every last drop from the tip onto my wet skin.

  “Don’t swim naked.”

  “You’re not the boss of me, you pig,” I yell and squirm out from under him using the sheet to wipe myself off.

  He rolls onto his back and lays his hands under the back of his head watching me as I throw my things back into my bags. “I’m not staying with you, you’re insane. I’m going back to my room, and I don’t ever want to see you again.” He is still quiet, and I glance up to find him looking smug. “What?” I snap.

  “You’re angry.”

  “Way to state the obvious.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “I’m furious!” I shout pulling on my skirt and looking around for my tank top.

  “You can’t leave, you know.”

  I stop and straighten to glare at him. “Oh, yes, I can. Watch me.”

  “No, I mean your room has been given to someone else, and the resort is booked solid for weeks.”

  “You can’t do that! That room is paid for. I have it for two weeks!”

  “Not anymore, you checked out.”

  “I did no such thing. You bastard, you’re manipulating me, and I don’t like it. I want my room back, and I want it right now or I’ll… I’ll…”

  “You’ll what? Contact the owner? Tell a manager? I bought this place, papers were signed this morning.”

  I growl, but I want to scream at the top of my lungs. This is what I get for not listening to that little voice in my head that kept saying, ‘This isn’t a good idea, Aria. This is too much, too fast, and you don’t know what kind of man he is.’

  “Fine. I’m sleeping on the couch, and I still don’t want to see you again for the rest of my vacation. I’ll find things to do away from the room during the day, and I expect you to keep your distance at night.”

  “Aria,” he says shaking his head. “All because I withheld as punishment for showing the world your gorgeous body? The body you promised was mine while you were here. The body I can’t stop thinking about no matter what I do? Come on, you know this isn’t what you want. You’re pouting.”

  Pouting? “I can assure you this is not me pouting, this is me fuming!” I yank a shirt from my suitcase and grab a pair of flip-flops, slide my feet into them, and storm from the room.

  I’m angry, hungry, under-caffeinated, and I smell like sex and the ocean and Roman. Dammit, this day isn’t going well at all. I’m thinking about the way Roman manipulated his way into my honeymoon when I run straight into someone and make an ‘umph’ sound when we collide. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I gush looking up into a pair of liquid blue eyes. Familiar eyes. “Brandon?”

  “Aria? What on earth are you doing here?” he asks. Brandon used to work for me at my bookstore in Chicago when I first opened. Then he graduated college and took a position as an editor for G&F Publishing in New York City. I was so proud of him, I wanted to burst. He was living his dream. Brandon was a handsome college student then, blond with perfect skin and a lean runner’s build. Today, Brandon is similar but more muscular and mature, his well-manicured goatee makes him lo
ok a little exotic even.

  “I… I uh, well, I was supposed to be on my honeymoon, but the wedding fell through, so I came by myself.”

  “Oh my gosh, Aria, I’m so sorry. That guy, David?” he asks, and I’m surprised he remembered his name.

  “Yes, David.”

  He shakes his head. “I had no idea you two were still together. I never liked him. In fact, I always thought he had something going on with one of your friends. I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

  “No, no,” I wave my hand like his comment means nothing. He has no idea how on spot he is. “You were right, he was cheating on me with my best friend for… well, now I know for much longer than I’d expected.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking bringing that up. You must be so hurt.”

  “No, actually, I’m doing okay. I think I always knew things weren’t right between us. I’m glad I found out before I married him.”

  “Me, too.”

  “So, what are you doing down here? Vacation?”

  “Yes, sort of. It’s a business thing. There’s a book signing tomorrow afternoon, and one of our biggest authors is going to be there. I came along to help her out.”

  “Wow, anybody I know?”

  “Pricilla Ward.” A smile spreads across his face when he says the author’s name. He knows she’s one of my all-time favorite romance authors.

  “No way!” He nods.

  “I can get you in if you’d like to come.”

  “Oh, would you? That would be so perfect. I need to fill my time with activities while I’m here, so I don’t think about things, you know?”

  “Of course, yeah. There’s a dinner tonight, the signing tomorrow, and then a party after the signing. You’re welcome at all the events. I’ll put you down under the bookstore’s name in case there’re any questions as to how you got a non-existent ticket.”

  “You’re the best. Thank you so much.”

  “No problem. Where are you off to?”

  “Breakfast, you?”

  “I have a breakfast meeting with Pricilla. Care to join us?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t intrude. I’m sure you have business to go over.”

  “I can make you part of the business. We could talk about a signing at your bookstore. It would be great for both of you.”

  I lean to the side and peek around to look behind Brandon. “Are you sure you’re not an angel? I don’t see any wings, but you’re seriously turning a crappy day into a dream.”

  He chuckles. “Nope, I know a lot of people who would laugh at the idea of me being an angel. I’m happy to help you out, though, Aria. You were always so good to me when I worked at Savage Books.”

  “Okay, well I’m not dressed very well, and I’m not wearing any makeup. I just took a dip in the ocean.”

  “Do you want to go freshen up first?”

  I look back from where I just came and shake my head. “No, I’d rather not. I’ll stop in the restroom on the way and gather my hair.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yep, perfect now that you’re here,” I say and link my arm with his.

  We walk arm in arm to the restaurant. I duck into the bathroom and French braid my hair down my back to get rid of that just-fucked look and wash myself off with paper towels so I don’t smell of Roman.

  Pricilla Ward is lovelier than I’d ever imagined. The three of us talked books all through breakfast. She signed autographs for several people who stopped at our table, and she agreed to do a book signing at my store next month.

  Brandon is a lifesaver. If I hadn’t bumped into him, I would have eaten alone and wandered the beach all morning to keep from going back to Roman’s room.

  After a long breakfast, I say goodbye to Brandon and Pricilla and walk to the front desk to see if Roman was telling the truth about my room. He was. He was also not lying about the resort being booked.

  “But, how could you give my room to someone else when I paid for it for two weeks?” I ask the front desk manager whose name is Delilah.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Savage. Mr. Forrest told someone that you wouldn’t be needing the room any longer. I don’t have a room now, but there will be a smaller room without a view of the ocean available day after tomorrow. Do you want me to hold it for you?”

  “Yes, please. And I won’t be charged, correct?”

  “No, of course not. I apologize again for the mix-up.”

  “Oh, it’s no mix-up. Your new owner took liberties he shouldn’t have.”

  Her eyes go wide, and she fiddles with the scarf around her wrist that is a stupid addition to their already unattractive uniform. “Again, I apologize. If there is anything I can do for you while you’re here, please let me know right away.”

  Did she just put it together that I am sleeping in the same suite with the owner of the resort, or is she so damn confused by all of this that she’s being an awesome employee doing everything she can to rectify the situation?

  “I appreciate that. If a room becomes available sooner, please let me know.”

  “I will.”

  I walk away feeling her eyes on my back judging me. She’s wondering why Mr. Big Shot Resort Owner, Roman, is trying to keep Plain Jane, me, booked in his room. I’m wondering the same thing.

  I’m nobody’s property. I’m not submissive, and I am certainly not into games. I think I want to go home. No, I’m sure I want to go home, but not until after the book signing tomorrow and the party afterward.

  I make my way to the computer room and sit down to book a flight home day after tomorrow. I scan through my options and find nothing under eight hundred dollars. Dammit, last-minute flights are such a rip-off. I don’t have a lot left in my savings after the wedding and having to pay someone to move me back into my apartment. It’s not worth it. In a couple of days, I’ll have a new room to hide out in. I’m going to have to stick it out on Roman’s couch for the next two nights.

  I flop back in the office chair and let my arms hang limply at my sides. How did I let myself get into this mess? I should have just stayed in Chicago and locked myself in my apartment after the non-wedding. At least there I wouldn’t have to hide from a pompous asshole who thinks he can boss me around like I’m his property. The nerve of him thinking he could punish me. I am an independent, autonomous, grown woman. Not even the best sex in the world is going to make me abandon who I am.

  I guess I’ll go out to the beach and get some sun. That’s what people in resorts do, right… relax, get a tan, forget their worries? Yeah, right, not me. I come to the most beautiful place on earth, and what do I find? Trouble.

  Chapter 7

  My heart is pounding. I can feel his fingers digging into my flesh, his mouth devouring me, the smell of the ocean floods my mind, and then a strange voice calling my name.

  “Ms. Savage? Ms. Savage, you have a phone call,” the woman’s voice says, and I open my eyes. I’m on the beach, and I was sound asleep having a dream about… I groan and look at the beautiful Polynesian woman with sleepy eyes.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “A phone call,” she says thrusting the phone into my hand and walking away. Before I can think about who it might be, I raise it to my ear.

  “Hello?” I blink in the sunlight again and try to sit up. I need more sunscreen. I’m glad I thought to buy some in the gift shop, or I would be a total lobster. How long have I been out here anyway?

  “Aria, oh my God, finally. Do you know I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over a week? Why aren’t you answering my calls?” It’s David. Dammit, why did I accept the phone?

  I clear my throat which has just gone dry as the desert. “I think I made that pretty clear at the church, David.”

  “Baby, you’ve got it all wrong. Those pictures weren’t of me. I don’t know who she’s screwing, but it’s not me. Somebody’s got some mad Photoshop skills or something, but it’s not me, I swear!”

  I sit up and lean forward on my lounger. Nausea
hits me hard out of nowhere. Could it be true? Could someone have doctored those photos to make it look like David and Lynn? His penis, that was David’s penis, I’m sure of it. If someone was doctoring photographs, how do they know what his cock looks like, and where did they get photos of it?

  “David, I’m not an idiot. You’re not exactly well-endowed, and after six years, I know what your little dick looks like. Those pictures were of you with someone, maybe not Lynn, I don’t know, but she wasn’t me, your fiancé, your wife to be.”

  “No, Aria, no, it wasn’t me. I swear on anything you want me to swear on. Jesus, please, believe me.”

  “I can’t David. I can’t believe you because it’s you and someone in those pictures on my couch, whoever it was. Don’t contact me again. I’m done, move on, leave me alone.” I jab my finger on the red disconnect button and drop the phone in the sand.

  I want to scream and pull my hair out and get drunk. And I want to complain to the front desk manager about bringing me a fucking phone call when I specifically told them not to! If the owner weren’t one of three people in the world I don’t ever want to talk to again, I’d want to complain to him too!

  I stand up too quickly and grab the edge of the mini cabana behind my chair until my vision clears. “Are you okay, miss?” a young girl asks walking by.

  “Yes, I got up too quick, fell asleep in the sun.” I smile, and so does she. She takes the hand of a young man standing next to her, and they walk away down the beach. I make my way to the bar and order two drinks and two shots like I’m with someone who also needs a set of drinks. It’s not until they are in front of me that I realize my mistake.

  How am I going to carry all of this back to my chair? “Here, I’ll help you,” Brandon says appearing from out of nowhere next to me.

  “Oh, hey, thanks,” I say unsure of how I’m going to explain four drinks.

  “No problem. Where are you and your friend sitting?” he asks.

  “Um, well, over there.” I point in the direction of my cabana and lounger. He scoops up the Mai Tais, and I take the shots of tequila and follow him. What am I going to say when we get there, and it’s just me? This is so embarrassing. Why didn’t I just start out slow?