Playboy in Paradise

by Scott, S. L.

  The three of them look at me, surprised by my outburst. I close my eyes and try to rid myself of the strong emotions that seem to engulf me when it comes to Evan. When I open my eyes again, Zach is shaking his head at Kate and whispering something about me knowing, but I didn’t catch it. She uses her eyes to answer him silently which makes me feel I’m definitely missing out on something.

  “Is there something I should know?” I demand.

  Zach looks at Kate one last time before turning toward me. “No, we were talking about someone else.”

  As much as I want to delve into whatever they are secretly discussing, emotionally I’ve lost the energy, so I let it go.

  When we finish our drinks, we follow Kate down to the surf shack located on the beach for our lesson. Zach and Sunny lag behind, chatting to each other and holding hands. It warms my battered little heart to see them together like that.

  After catching up with Kate at the shack, I look up from my sandy toes and see Evan’s sea-blue eyes gazing right at me. “Mallory.”

  “What are you doing here?” My tone is too harsh as my heart races because of the confusion of seeing him here.

  Kate’s phone rings interrupting us. “Hey … Oh! I’m on my way.” Frantic, she says, “Mallory, I have to go. My friend … cousin … I just have to go.” She dashes off across the sand to the path.

  “The lesson is already paid for,” Evan says. “I hope you’ll still take it. I’m not allowed to give refunds and I could get in trouble if you deny me. Well, deny the lesson that is.” He comes out from behind the counter, stopping in front of me with his hands on his hips … or should I say, right at the top of the sexy V his muscles form that leads to a dangerous and delightful place. I sigh out loud, missing those hands on me and missing that V.

  “She’s staying,” Sunny says, her voice firm. “Zach said he can show me the basics. Evan, you can give Mallory a private lesson.”

  Trying to set her on fire with just a look, I give her the evil eye, but she doesn’t back down. Zach reappears holding a board and takes Sunny down closer to the water. Looking back to Evan, I bow my head, and concede. “Sure. This should be interesting.”

  Ten minutes later, I’m in a bulky life jacket, boobs squeezed tightly together—I think he tightened it like that on purpose. “Why am I in this life jacket? Sunny isn’t wearing one.” He chuckles and looks down. I’m pissed. “I don’t need this do I?”

  “Technically, no, but I feel better that you’re wearing it if that makes a difference.”

  I unsnap the clasps and pull the jacket off, tossing it into the sand. “It doesn’t.” Although it kind of does make me feel all better that he seems to care, warm inside too, but he doesn’t need to know that. “We should get back to the lesson.”

  The next thirty minutes pass as I practice pop-ups on a large foam board set on top of the sand. Evan is analyzing my action, I mean my pop-ups, and smiles. “You look good. You ready to get in the water with me?”

  Um, no … I would rather stay here on the beach feeling this awkward for the rest of the day. I just think that, but don’t bother saying it. I know Evan will get all analytical on me saying that I’m just defensive. Damn right, I’m defensive. Why am I having pretend arguments in my head? I’ll tell you why. Because the pretty boy next to me has my soul and emotions all twisted and I don’t like it, not one bit. I roll my eyes, a little because of him and a lot because of me. “Let’s do this.”

  He takes the board and carries it waist deep before setting it on top of the water. I follow, jumping as the waves hit against my chest. “Hop on,” he says, smiling. His voice is light and playful and I can tell he’s in his element.

  I roll onto the board like some fat seal that has flippers instead of arms. “Are you sure you’re ready for the task at hand?” I ask, referring to my obviously not ready for surfing skills.

  “Getting on is one of the hardest parts. You’ll get better at it.” He starts swimming next to me and dragging the board with him. He’s strong and I watch his muscles working beautifully together across his shoulders and back, but I scold myself for still finding him so damn attractive.

  We go out quite a distance from the beach, when he says, “Let’s try once from here.”

  Sunny and Zach have already caught a wave riding tandem. They make it look so easy.

  Without warning, Evan says, “I’ve missed you.”

  “You have?” I ask, surprised by his revelation.

  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” I quickly remind myself that he’s a paradigm, he’s setting the mold. He’s not changing for me which helps keep my guard up. “Can we talk about that?” he asks, floating next to me.

  “Talk about what? How you acted after our night together, those girls at the store? I don’t think we have much to talk about.” I look ahead and see Sunny and Zach on the beach waving at us. I sit up on the board to get a better look. “They’re waving ‘hello’, right?” I ask concerned, and wave back.

  I start paddling and look back at the wave coming up behind us. But Evan’s holding me steady in the water.

  Then I see Zach grab Sunny’s bag off the sand and they walk away. “Are they leaving?” I’m nervous she’s gonna leave me with Evan all alone. “Get on. She’s my ride.”

  He slides onto the board, bumping against my back then onto his knees looking over my head. “I think they are leaving.”

  I lift my legs up onto the board and paddle with my hands even faster. “Harder, faster, Evan!”

  He chuckles behind me. He’s got such a dirty mind and I like that. It makes me smile.

  By the time we reach the shore, they are long gone. “I’m starting to think we’ve been set up,” I say, more to myself than to Evan.

  He smirks like he always does and my knees weaken just as they always do when he does that. Why does my body have to react like this to the bad boy? Why not the good guy, like Noah? “I can drive you home.”

  “No. That’s fine. I’ll call Sunny to pick me up.” I look around the shack for my stuff, but it’s all gone. “She took it, didn’t she? Ugh!”

  Evan goes into the shack and tosses me a shirt. “I only have the one shirt, but you’re welcome to wear it, but I have to say you’re looking really hot in that bikini.”

  I catch it. “Thanks, I guess.” Don’t fall for his charms. Don’t fall for him again.

  “Let me change into some dry shorts and I’ll take you home.”

  I don’t have much of a choice, so I wait. He starts stripping his swim trunks off and although I should be polite and give him some privacy, it’s Evan, and he’s hot.

  “Mallory? Mallory, you’ve got a little drool right there on the side of your mouth,” he says, mocking me. I have no response because I was busted and deserve the sarcasm. “You can change here or up at the hotel, wherever you feel more comfortable.” He walks out swinging his arm out to allow me entrance into the shack.

  I look around and can tell that no one can see in there, so I walk in and duck down. After untying my bikini top, I set it on the counter and slip on the t-shirt. It’s large on me, but does the trick. I’ve actually seen dresses shorter than this, so I decide to take off my wet bottoms and place them on the counter. But one big gust of wind will definitely expose my hoo-ha to the world, so I tug at the bottom of the shirt to hold it in place, standing there—shoeless, braless, panty-less—with no money, phone, or dignity.

  Evan tilts his head, slightly amused by my situation, and makes me an offer I can’t refuse. “Would you like to wear my briefs?”

  “Very much,” I answer without hesitation.

  He steps back into the shack, keeping his eyes on mine and takes his shorts off. Everything is in slow motion and I find the sexual tension almost stifling in the small shack. He lets his shorts drop to the ground, still not losing eye contact, and steps out of them. My eyes leave his and roam downward.

  His skin is like a satin sheet revealing every perfect muscle underneath. I want to tou
ch him. I really want to lick him and taste the dry, salty ocean water on him. When I look up at his face, I know I’ll find his standard smirk firmly in place, but it isn’t there. I’ve just ogled him, he should feel a little violated or proud, but he doesn’t. His eyes are too busy appreciating me, but it feels more personal than that, like he appreciates my body because it’s me. I open my mouth to help counteract the lack of air while trying to calm my heart that’s pounding in my chest.

  His voice cuts through my wondrous thoughts. “Why are you fighting this?”

  My head bolts up. His eyes are curious, but sad.

  I know what he means, but he doesn’t deserve any more of me. He’s a taker, and I’m not willing to fall for his game again. I look down at his black boxer briefs and point. “Are you going to let me borrow those or not?”

  “Of course,” he says, sliding them down and exposing himself to me.

  It hardens as I watch him strip the underwear completely off. How do I keep forgetting how perfect his erection is? “You like what you see, Mallory?” He holds the briefs in the air in front of my face.

  I snatch them. “Thanks,” I say, grinning then licking my lips for some odd reason.

  Turning around, I slip one leg at a time into the briefs. Sliding them up so he gets a glimpse of my ass, an unsubtle reminder of what he’s been missing. Yes, I can tease, too. As I adjust the waistband, his hands grab my hips, pulling me to him. Pressing his hardened self against my bottom, his warm breath hits my neck, and he whispers against my ear, “I think about you all the time.”

  Stepping forward, freeing myself, I walk around him. Without looking back, I say, “Except when you’re sneaking out in the early morning to avoid the mistake you made the night before, or when you’re fucking other girls.” I leave him in the shack, alone and naked.

  I’m almost to the hotel by the time he catches up with me, swim trunks back on. “I left your required little courtesy note.” He takes hold of my arm, and I turn back to face him.

  “It’s not about etiquette, Evan. After what we did, you should want to tell me goodbye. When you don’t, I not only wake up alone but feel like a whore.” I yank my arm from him and turn to walk again, but he blocks my path.

  “You’re not a whore and I didn’t use you, I—”

  “Ashford! Over here. Now!” Some guy in a staff shirt yells from the patio of the hotel.

  “Shit! I’ll meet you at the car. This conversation is not over,” Evan says before jogging toward the man.

  The man seems to be griping at him, but Evan glances at me then stares out at the water with his arms crossed, giving him no respect. Typical. I watch him nod and then argue.

  The employee parking lot is huge and I don’t see his car anywhere. Suddenly, Evan grabs my arm directing me to walk with him. “Let’s get out of here. I’m parked over here.” As we’re walking, he hands me my wet bikini then releases my arm, and says, “You left this.” His pace is quick and I can tell he’s anxious to leave. At the edge of the parking lot, he stops where the grass ends and the rest is cement. He turns and looks at me. “The pavement is hot. I’ll carry you the rest of the way. Hop on.”

  Being stubborn, I touch my foot to the pavement to test it.

  “I’m parked six rows over. You can walk if you want.” He shrugs, but looks confident.

  He starts walking, but the ground is too hot and I don’t want to scorch my feet. I huff, putting my hands on my hips. “Fine. I’ll take the ride.”

  And there is that self-satisfied smile. If I wasn’t anxious to get out of here myself, I’d protest just to spite him. But I want to get home, so I swallow my pride.

  He comes back and bends over and I hop onto his back wrapping my legs around his body and my arms loosely around his neck. My cold, wet, bathing suit is in my hand, dripping down his bare chest, and I find a tidbit of pleasure in that annoyance. He’s getting me back five times over with the friction of his body against my nether region as he moves though. All that separates us is the soft cotton of the briefs I’m wearing.

  He makes me want him! It’s hard to give up the best sex of your life over stupid stuff like principles and pride.

  We reach the car and he grabs me from the side, spinning me to his front and pinning me against the vehicle with his body.

  “Whoa! What are you doing?” My feet don’t reach the ground and he’s holding me by my ass and enjoying himself at that.

  “I told you our conversation wasn’t over.”

  “Do we have to finish it with your cock pressed against me while your hands fondle my ass though?” I ask, sneering.

  He laughs then leans his head against my forehead. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be talking.” His lips graze mine and my body relaxes under his grip. Sensing the tension dissipating from my body, he kisses me. I hold out for exactly point two seconds before I kiss him back.

  The kiss is heated from the moment our lips touch, on fire by the time our tongues meet, and burning when I wrap my arms around his neck giving him everything he wants—everything I want. His bulge presses against my sex and I moan into his mouth. Lifting my legs up higher, I wrap them around him tighter as he adjusts his hold on me, so we both benefit. I can feel how much he wants me and that thought alone brings my buried desires to the surface.

  His mouth pulls away and he rests his head on my shoulder. “God, Mallory. How do you do this to me?” He sounds as if he’s selling his soul to the devil. “I can’t fight you. You’re all I fucking want.”

  I tilt my head back to get a better look at him, understanding exactly what he’s experiencing. I’m battling my urges for him too. It’s been a struggle and is much easier when I don’t see him, when I’m not reminded of our chemistry. I bring my legs down, straightening them down toward the ground. His hands loosen and he lets me slide down his body, but his hands remain on my hips, his grasp tightening. When I look into his eyes, he needs me too much and yet not enough—conflict.

  My senses take hold of me. “I think you should drive me home now, Evan.”

  Just as my feet touch the hot parking lot, he opens the door for me without question or further intention. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he lowers his head, running a hand through his hair aggressively as if he’s struggling inside. He doesn’t speak. He just shifts into reverse, and starts driving.

  We need a distraction. I need a distraction from the tension filling the car. “It looked like you were arguing with that man back there. Are you in trouble?”

  He doesn’t look at me. I can tell it’s on purpose. “No. He was just mad.”

  “About me? You know, dressed like this?”

  “Not about your clothes.” He explains, “He asked me if I had sex with you in the shack. I told him no. Then he asked if I wanted to keep my job.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, but I told him to go fuck himself—”

  I turn, shocked. “Why would you say that to your boss?”

  “They won’t fire me.” He looks at me, the smug slowly reclaiming his gentler features. “They use me to draw in the clients. I benefit them just as much as the job does me.”

  “Is that how you met those girls? You gave them a lesson—”

  “I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t sleep with them, Mallory. I swear.”

  Belief is a powerful commitment. I want to believe, but everything I saw overrides any trust I consider giving him. “The porn, the girls, it didn’t look innocent.”

  “Have you ever watched porn?”

  “Don’t turn this around. I’ve watched those kinds of movies and I’m not judging you for that.” I scrunch my nose in disgust, and say, “But you were obviously going to have sex with them.”

  He pulls to the side of the road, slamming on his brakes, and throwing the car into park. “I was. You’re right or I wanted to. FUCK! I thought I wanted to. I thought it would help.” I can feel his anger through his words. “But I didn’t. I didn’t sleep with them. I didn’t have sex with them
. I didn’t even kiss them, but honestly, does it matter? Are you going to believe me?” he asks, his voice suddenly softer in the confined space. “I screwed up and I’m sorry. I need you to believe what I’m telling you. I was only going to hook up with them to get you off my mind. When you kicked me out that night, it upset—”

  “I didn’t kick you out forever,” I say, sitting up while standing my ground. Tears well in my eyes and I say more than I should. “You hurt me. How many times am I supposed to let you come into my life and do that? I’m a girl and emotional. I need you to be there when I wake up so I don’t feel used.” I turn away to look out the window.

  I can hear him trying to bring his breathing back under control. Seconds later, his hand runs gently down my arm, and he whispers, “I’m sorry I hurt you, but I don’t know how not to.”

  Absorbing his words, I let them enter my soul. Minutes pass before he starts the car back up again. We remain silent the rest of the trip. When Evan pulls up to the apartment, he cuts the engine. There are two possibilities here: he’s going to talk to me or he’s going to walk me to the front door and end this once and for all.

  He opens his door and comes around to open mine. Guess he’s made his decision. He offers a hand and I take it though I know by this stage in our convoluted relationship that I shouldn’t. I’m weak to him and touching him removes the last of my will-powered walls every time.

  We walk in silence. At the front door, I stop and point at the shirt I’m wearing. “I’ll get your clothes back to you soon.”

  “I was actually hoping to collect them now,” he says, adorable with a sweet tilted smile in full effect.

  “No, Evan.”