by S. L. Scott
Moaning as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, he pulls back, removing his lips from mine, and says in the most sextastic voice, “Does this feel good, baby?”
A mumbled utterance of approval escapes my lips as his hands slide under my tank top and he squeezes my breasts. His moan in return encourages me to grind harder. He kisses across my jaw, dragging his teeth and then sucking gently on my neck.
A tight squeeze on my breasts becomes firmer as his mouth reaches my peaks and teases me with soft licks, delicate touches, and gentle hip presses.
I lift my head to see why the change in speed. He’s looking up at me through dark lashes and half-hooded eyes as I watch his lips kiss my breast and his thumb caresses my other breast’s nipple.
Pushing my boobs together, he appreciates them… and then begins talking to them. “I’m going to miss you girls. Remember you’re mine and only mine. Don’t let anyone else manhandle you, okay?”
Evan releases them and abruptly takes my arms, pushing them above my head, and attacks my neck with kisses while gyrating into me again with passion. I don’t know what that stalling was all about, but I’m glad we’re back to the action portion of this morning sex.
His lips meet mine again and as we kiss, I wrap my legs around his middle and we grind hard and fast. “Get a condom,” I mumble with his tongue in my mouth.
“Let’s do it this way,” he says, never breaking pace. “I’m already so close.”
So am I, which is why I thought we would have sex, but this does feel too fantastic to stop now.
Rubbing down my sides, he glides his hands hard against me on the way up and grabs a hold of my breasts again. Our moaning takes over and he whimpers for a split second before pressing hard against my heat. Pushing back against his shoulders, I reach my orgasm. But we continue moving against each other a few more seconds before he collapses on top of me.
After panting for a moment, he rolls off of me, eyes closed and smirking. “God, I love you.”
“Me or my body?” I giggle at his obvious exhausted pleasure.
“Both,” he says, turning to face me. He strokes my face with his hand, his expression turning serious. “I love all of you. Everything about you, baby. Especially that beautiful blush that’s on your cheeks now.” He leans forward, kissing me sweetly on the lips then jumps up off the bed and heads to the bathroom. Before he leaves the room, he stops and looks back at me. “Get that cute ass out of bed. We’ve got plans today.”
I grab the pillow next to me and chuck it at him. “You can’t be serious! It’s been non-stop, babe. I’m tired. No more hiking or any activities like that. I’m good. I’ve seen more than my fair share. Can’t we just lounge in bed instead?”
“No, we can’t,” he shouts from the bathroom. “We’ve got big plans today.”
“Uggghh! What do I need to wear and bring?” I give in. Apparently, he has set his mind and there’s no changing it.
“Wear what you would normally wear. Or, we can wear our matching Hawaiian clothes,” he says and laughs.
“No! Absolutely not! It was cute one time. Twice is too much.”
“Okaaayyy, but if you change your mind…” He’s wise and doesn’t finish that sentence, but he does start the shower.
I get out of bed, disgruntled I might add, and pull off my soaked panties and scrunched up tank top. Tossing them on my growing pile of dirty clothes, I walk naked into the bathroom. He’s naked and brushing his teeth, but stops to drink me in with his eyes. With the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and foamy paste all over his teeth, he releases it and takes my arm, pulling me in front of him. His body is flush against the back of mine as his hands feel me, wrapping around my ribs and stopping on my stomach. Gently rubbing his hands, palms flattened, on my breasts, he cups them. He’s been watching me move under his touch until it seems to dawn on him that he’s supposed to be brushing his teeth. He lets go of me and starts brushing again.
When I exhale, I realize I’d stopped breathing altogether when he looked at me the way he did. He’s touched every inch of my body before—gently and sexually—but something about the moment we just shared reminded me of the way he looked at me the very first day we met.
As I walk under the spray of the shower, I ask, trying to sound casual, “You asked me if I enjoyed myself after the first time we were together. I remember thinking that was thoughtful that you were concerned with how it felt emotionally for me.”
He steps in behind me and holds me so were both under the water. Backing up, he grabs the shampoo, squirts some in his hand, and starts washing my hair. “I also washed your hair that first night.” He kisses my shoulder. “If you’re asking me if I always ask girls that question afterward, the answer is no. I never cared enough about anyone to even think to ask. I really cared if you had a good time.” He leans down to my ear and whispers, “I secretly hoped you’d stay with me that first day, but—”
“But I was so pissed that I woke up alone.”
“Yeah, you scared me a little,” he laughs.
“You made love to me when all I was looking for was a good time.” I also laugh, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.
His hand goes to his chest, ego wounded, and all dramatic. “Oh how your words pierce my very manhood. So, you didn’t have a good time then?”
He slides his fingers, conditioner coated, through my hair, carefully spreading it throughout.
I playfully respond, “I didn’t say I didn’t have a good time, but you made love to me. You didn’t fuck me.”
“Oh, I see. So Mallory Wray came to the island to get laid? Thank god, I was there to be of service, but my humblest apologies that I left her dissatisfied and in need of a proper fucking. I can only hope that I’ve made up for it.” I see the sparkle in his eyes as he teases.
Shimmying my soapy body against him, I say, “More than made up for it, but if you’d like to keep making up for it, you know where to find me, hot stuff.”
He steps out from rinsing his hair and I step under, closing my eyes and letting the water fall down my body. When I open them again, he’s staring at me and I recognize the look though it takes me a second to place it, a flashback to our first night together again.
His smile lessens as he looks at me, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze drops away for the briefest of seconds, but when it returns there’s confusion, his expression mystified again.
He asks, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Just love me. That’s all.”
“That’s easy. I meant what am I going to do when you’re gone?”
“You’re also leaving.”
“But not for a week. You leave in…” A heavy sigh fills in the rest and we finish our shower in silence. Both of us are well aware that I leave in three days and we don’t need the reminder.
Within the hour, we’re on the road. But when we pull into the airport, I get confused. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re doing a day trip to Kauai.”
I grab his hand, stopping him as he tries to move forward. “Really?” I can’t hide my excitement.
“C’mon or we’ll miss our flight.”
After the short twenty-minute flight, we rent a convertible and drive along the coast eventually turning inland until we arrive at a place called Wailua River Cruises.
“It’s pretty here. Are we going on a boat?” I ask as we walk to the ticket office.
“Yes, we are. This is where parts of that old show “Fantasy Island” and I think some of “Lost” was filmed.” He leans forward over the counter, and says, “I have a reservation for two under Ashford.”
The girl smiles at him and then starts typing. “Yes, here you are, Mr. Ashford, aannnndddd…” She eyes me up and down, but easily disregards me and focuses her attention back to Evan with a flirty smile.
Squeezing Evan’s hand, I answer confidently, “Mrs. Ashford.” As the words leave my mouth, I go into some minor form of shock. Why did I do that?
I claimed him because I got jealous. I turn around quickly to walk away, embarrassed for acting so childish and for doing that to Evan. But Evan stops my retreat, gripping my hand tighter in his then bringing it to his lips and placing one sweet, slow kiss on my knuckles. A gentle smile plays on his lips as he takes the tickets without any further acknowledgment of the girl behind the counter.
I don’t say anything as we walk hand in hand down the long sidewalk to the pier where the boat is boarding, mainly because I feel a lump forming in my throat. He glances my way several times and I can see the smile that he’s trying to hold back. I’m so gonna be teased over that remark.
After finding our seats on the boat, in the back, he can’t resist, and asks, “Mrs. Ashford, huh?” His gentle smile gets all smirky —arrogance and satisfaction playing equally.
My face flames with heat. I’m about to go into all the pathetic reasons why I said that back there, but before I can speak, he says, “Stop freaking out. I like the sound of that name. Mallory Ashford has a nice ring to it. Is this something you’ve thought about before or did the green-eyed monster say that back there?”
I drop my head into my hands, humiliated in my weak jealousy. He’s not stupid. He knows I got jealous and I hate that I did. “I’m sorry. Yes I’ll admit, I got jealous, but did you see how she was eye-flirting with you. Seeing that set something off inside me.”
“I think it’s cute that you said that and no, I didn’t notice her eye-flirting with me.”
“That’s because you think that’s how girls look at everyone, but they don’t. They only look at you that way and I’m leaving in less than three days and I don’t like that girls are going to do that to you and I’m not going to be here to put them in their place and even though I’ve given you a hard time in the past about territorial pissing on me that’s all I want to do is mark you as mine and make sure that every female in a hundred-foot vicinity knows you’re mine and only mine!” I word vomit then take a deep breath since my lungs are completely deflated from my rant.
He leans over and kisses me softly. “Welcome to my world, except I don’t want guys closer than a hundred yards to you.” He laughs, making me smile and a little less crazy for how I acted.
As the boat travels leisurely toward our destination, there’s a cool breeze coming off the water. I lean back against Evan, resting my hand on his leg, and appreciate the view.
Earlier on the drive from the airport, I noticed Kauai is less populated and not as built up as Oahu. It really has a peace and calm about its natural beauty.
“So, how do you feel about the name?” Evan asks, breaking into my daydreaming.
“Name? Oh, as in your name? I love your name, Evan,” I state simply.
He laughs. “My last name, silly?”
“Ashford is a great name. What do you think about Wray?”
“You’re being difficult, so I take that as a no to changing your name one day, even for the man that you’re madly in love with?” He waggles his eyebrows and drapes his arm across the back of my shoulders as I sit up.
I’ve given this thought before and always knew I wanted Wray to stay my name. But he’s the first one to ever make me think twice about this stance. “I think I’d be willing to change it as long as it wasn’t to a more boring name than mine like Smith or Jones.”
Sitting up and turning to face me directly, he says, “What about Ashford specifically? Is that more boring than Wray?” He’s serious, hopeful, and curious, and wearing his heart on his sleeve for me.
“I like Ashford. I already told you that.”
“Do you like it enough to change it if we ever get married?”
I lift my legs and spin so they rest across his lap. “Is that important to you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve not thought that much about marriage before, but I do like the thought of my family having one shared name. It feels more like a unit that way.”
“A unit?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him for his choice of word. “Well, I understand that and it definitely makes it easier with kids, but it would be hard to give up a name that you’ve been called your entire life.” He seems to be waiting for the ‘right’ or different answer. “I think Ashford has a very nice ring to it, but I don’t think Mother Ashford would ever allow that to happen and by ‘that’ I mean us.”
“Shit, you’re right. You sharing a name with her won’t go over well at all. That only leaves us one option.”
“What is that?”
“We should elope at once and change your name immediately,” he says, laughing.
I laugh because that’s funny, but our laughter teeters off as the realization of a real future sinks in, wondering if we even have a chance. We both lean back again and let our minds wander back to the breathtaking scenery along the river.
When we dock, we walk up a long pathway surrounded by the flora of what I’d always imagined for Hawaii. I still can’t get over that Hawaii really is this amazing looking, so natural and beautiful, but with this element that feels like you’ve gone back to the Jurassic era.
Music wafts through the air, and Evan winks at me. “We’re here. This is Fern Grotto.”
Looking ahead, I see a large open cave structure with ferns hanging from the upper rock covering. “Is this real?”
“Nature made the grotto out of lava rock. It’s pretty, huh?”
“Very pretty.”
We walk within it and sit on ledges that are used as seats to watch the Hawaiian quartet play their ukulele’s and a woman singing in her native language. When she’s finishes the song, she announces that the next song is the traditional marriage song, explaining, “In ancient and modern times, couples came to the Grotto to be married. Instead of speaking their vows, this song was played and when it was over they were officially married.”
Songs are about feeling and it seems to be joined in matrimony in this place, which is just so romantic to me.
Just as she starts to sing, Evan takes my hands in his, glancing at me, then focusing back on the music.
The song is long, but it’s easy to feel the love in it. When it’s over, the other tourists start meandering around the Grotto. Evan says, “You know in the Hawaiian culture we’re now married.” He gets this devious look in his eyes as he smiles all cocky. “May I have a kiss, Mrs. Ashford?”
Taking my hands from his, I slide them around his neck, tug him closer, and seductively whisper, “Is a kiss all you want from your new wife?”
He sighs, arching his eyebrow, and tilting his head to the side. “You’re a tease and right. I do want more, but I also don’t want to be arrested.”
I kiss him before he can say anymore, my tongue moving smoothly past his open lips and melding with mouth. His warm breath envelopes me as his hands slide from around my back to my ribs and his thumbs press purposely against the side of my breasts.
It doesn’t matter that we’re in public because I have his hands on me and his tongue in my mouth and the rest of the world disappears, like it always does when I’m with him.
Our make-out session is interrupted by an older woman who promptly clears her throat, getting our attention. We both look up, but I notice Evans thumbs are still totally copping a feel of my side boobs.
“It’s so lovely to see newlyweds,” she says. “You’re a very attractive couple and will be blessed with beautiful children. Congratulations.”
In a most charming tone, Evan says, “Thank you. I’m a very lucky guy.”
I playfully swat at him and correct him, “I’m the lucky one.”
We all giggle at the playful banter, and in that moment, it really feels like we’re starting our forever together. Catching his smile as it reaches his eyes, I smile in return.
The woman clutches her bag, as if it gives her strength as she speaks. “I lost my husband of forty-one years three years ago and I still miss him every day. We used to say the same thing about the other because we both thought we were the lucky ones.” She laughs to herself.
“Cherish each other and every day you have together.” She smiles one more time and walks off to join the group tour of the grotto.
We start down the path, but Evan stops me. His smiling eyes have turned serious, desperate even, and he says, “From now on, we’re officially married in Hawaii.”
He’s stating something that legally I know isn’t true, but it feels tangible, like something we can hold onto, when here in paradise. We’ll always have Hawaii to connect us, to hold us together. He kisses the fourth finger on my left hand then slides a ring onto it.
“Uh!” I gasp loud enough to draw surrounding attention. Cupping my hand over my mouth in surprise, I ask, “What is this?”
“A present for you.” His answer seems simple, but there’s so much more weighted behind it after what we just shared.
“But babe—”
“Will you accept it?” He watches me with intent, trying to read my emotions through my reaction.
I lean my head against his chest, staring at the rose gold Plumeria flower ring with a diamond in the center that’s now on my finger. “Absolutely. It’s beautiful, Evan. Thank you.”
He rubs my back, tracing his finger down over my spine, then begins drawing circles on my lower back. “I’m glad you like it, and you’re welcome.”
“I, uh,” I start to say, but stop to wipe at my eyes. “I love it. It’s perfect and thoughtful and uniquely paradise just like you.”
Hope fills my heart as I stare at the ring like it’s the forbidden fruit I shouldn’t touch.
He spins the ring around on my finger, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. His voice is low enough for only me to hear. “It looks good on your hand.”
Touching his cheek with that hand, I say, “Evan, it’s stunning.”
“Just like you, Mallory.”