“I promise you’re in expert hands. You know you can trust me. I’m Captain America, after all.”
“What makes you think I need a man to take care of me? I am Harley Quinn, after all. You should be afraid of me.”
No truer words have ever been spoken.
We take our drinks and move away from the crowded bar. I’m forced to let go of her and only hold her hand as we work our way through the crowd and find an empty table. I pull out her chair for her to sit first, then move the other chair as close to hers as possible. Once I’m seated, I slide my arm along the back of her seat and reestablish the body contact.
She lifts her glass to her lips and looks up at me from under her eyelashes. I purposely keep from staring directly into her eyes, just in case she recognizes anything about mine. “What brings you to this resort? I’d imagine you have men lined up a mile-long at home, waiting to make you theirs.”
“Not hardly.” Her self-deprecating laugh has a nervous edge to it. “But I’m actually here for Tracy. She views this as a kind of high-end matchmaking service. It’s only for singles who are looking for that special someone. Only the more adventurous people will jet away to a remote location like this, and that characteristic definitely attracts her. I couldn’t let her come alone.”
“Does that mean you’re not here looking for your soul mate?”
“I’m not sure I even believe in that anymore, to be honest. Not that I’m a cynical old spinster, but life has made me become more of a realist in that area than it has her.”
Just like that, I want to know everything about her. If I can get inside her head, I can figure out what makes her tick. I want to know what she’s passionate about. What she loves, what she hates, what she wants out of life. And why she doesn’t believe in love anymore. Yeah, I heard what she said, but I also listened to what she didn’t say.
She finishes her first drink and sets her glass down. Before she asks for another one, I want to get her on the dance floor for a little grinding of our own. When I open my mouth to ask her to dance, the music changes, and the lights dim even more. When the Righteous Brothers croon “Unchained Melody,” I can’t sit still any longer.
“Dance with me, Miss Quinn.” I extend my hand toward her and hold my breath at the same time.
She places her soft hand in mine, and we walk to the dance floor with our fingers laced. I turn and pull her tightly against me as we sway to the soulful sounds of the best love song ever recorded. Her hands slide up my chest and wrap around my neck. Even with her heels, I have to bend to keep her from stretching too much. But that doesn’t bother me since it puts me even closer to her.
When she releases the anxious breath she’s been holding, her entire body relaxes, melting into mine. I slide my arms up her back, holding her possessively against me. I feel her sigh and hear the whimper she tries to hide. She’s every bit as affected by me as I am by her, but she doesn’t know I’m me me.
The DJ is reading the room and feeling the vibes from the crowd because the next song, “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men, cues up immediately. I’m glad he’s paying attention because I’m not ready to let go of Daisy yet. Before I even realize I’m doing it, I softly murmur the words of the song in her ear, singing along with the music. I tell her I’ll make her wishes come true. I promise not to let go until she tells me to. All the words simply flow out of me as if I penned the lyrics exclusively for her.
Just when doubts start creeping in, concerned I’m overstepping another invisible boundary, her fingers curl into my skin through my super suit. She turns her face toward mine, and our lips are only a heartbeat away. Like a man lost in the desert, I’m dying for just a taste of her sweet lips to quench my thirst. But just as quickly as she turned toward me, she looks the other way. Second thoughts cloud her eyes in that split second, guarding her heart, body, and mind all at once. A passionate woman lies underneath the layers of caution and leeriness that govern her life.
I can’t stress how fucking much I want to be there when she finally unfurls her freak flag.
Since she purposely moved her lips out of my reach, I slide mine along her jawline until I reach her ear. “Now I can’t wait to see you dressed up as a genie. I already know what my three wishes will be.”
“In that case, I’ll make sure I look extra special for the next costume night.” That little coo of hers sends all my blood rushing to my cock. Being a nice guy is killing me. “As much as I hate to say this, I’d better head back to my room. We have an early morning excursion scheduled, and this has been a long day.”
“I’ll walk you back so I know you arrive safely.”
“You don’t need to do that. We’re at an exclusive resort. I’m sure it’s safe.”
I pull back and look at her. Thankfully, the room is still mostly dark because I hold her gaze while I speak. “It’s not safe at all, beautiful. You’re on an island with a bunch of single guys, most of whom are drunk. And even if it weren’t a singles resort, there are still plenty of male workers and places they can hide your body until they can toss you into the ocean in the middle of the night. I won’t pull any fast moves on you. You have my word. But I won’t sleep at all tonight if I’m not one-hundred percent certain you’re safely inside your room.”
She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at me in thoughtful reflection. “All right, Cap. You can escort me to my room, but no funny business. You’ll be sorry if you’re lying.”
“Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers to emphasize the point.
“Were you a Scout?”
“Nope, never.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “At least you’re honest about it. Lead the way out.” She motions toward the door and tells me her room number on the way.
When we reach her room, she unlocks it and checks behind all the doors and curtains while I stand in the open doorway, watching her every move.
“All safe and secure now. But thank you for walking me back. That was very thoughtful of you.” She stops moving when we’re so close our bodies are almost touching again.
Is this a test… or an invitation?
“Be safe on your excursion tomorrow. I’ll be dreaming about my genie in the bottle until the next costume night.”
“Are you changing costumes? How will I find you?”
“Don’t even worry about that, beautiful. I’ll find you. You’re not slipping through my fingers.”
I lean in and leave a lingering kiss on her cheek. Her soft gasp and the rush of her breath create visions of the other sounds she would make under my hand. Our faces are still touching, and her fingers brush along the scruff of my beard and along the back of my neck. With every fiber of my being, I want to capture her mouth with mine. When her quick inhale makes her lips part, I want to seize the opportunity and plunge my tongue deep inside her mouth, owning it with every moan that escapes from her. That I want to feel the velvety smoothness of her tongue gliding across mine in an erotic dance nearly breaks my resolve to keep this encounter PG-13.
When the urgency building inside her overflows, I want to know the very second the cracks and fissures form in the walls she’s built around her, undermining her willpower. When that dam breaks, sending a tsunami crashing down on both of us, I will be there to save her from drowning in a pool of want and need and desire.
But tonight’s intense reaction is fueled by alcohol, island stimulation, and not knowing who I am. I can’t take advantage of her state of mind like that.
“Good night, beautiful. Sleep well.” I murmur the words against her mouth, our lips barely touching, because I’m nowhere near ready to leave her personal space just yet. But I force myself to do just that anyway and walk backward, away from her. “Lock that door and don’t open it for anyone you don’t know.”
“Yes, sir.” She gives me a mock salute, and I’m surprised my spandex suit isn’t teepeed. She slowly closes the door, and when I hear the locks click into place, I turn and head back to my room.
/> Alone… with only visions of my personal Harley Quinn-sexy-genie to keep me warm tonight. Warm isn’t the right word. It’s more like my body catches up in flames that can’t be extinguished.
Yeah, this will be a long fucking night, all right.
CHAPTER SIX
Daisy
“Change of plans for today.” Tracy walks into our shared room with an enormous smile on her face.
“We’re not going on the eco tour I booked?”
A disgusted expression flashes over her face. “No, Daisy, we’re not. I’m not wasting my time here hiking and biking in this heat and humidity. Do you have any idea how frizzy my hair will be by the end of the day? We’re here for one reason—men. Plus, there are cruise ships docking today, and they’ll have those little half-sized human-things with them.”
“Do you mean children?” One feature she liked best about this resort, other than the hot guys, was the “no children allowed” policy.
“Yes.” She shakes her entire body as if trying to ward off any curses at the mere mention of kids.
“Did someone just walk on your grave?” I can’t help but have a little fun at her expense.
“You know I love your Southernisms, but that one is just creepy. I don’t have a grave, and I don’t even want to think about dying yet. Are you planning to kill me or something?”
“That depends on what you signed us up for today, instead of the hiking and biking tour I wanted to do.” I fold my arms across my chest and wait to make my decision.
“We are joining a group of outgoing people at a private cabana owned by the resort. It’s built on top of the water and has a big water slide, a hot tub, a fully stocked bar. And–” She pauses for dramatic emphasis, “–It also comes with a chef, a butler, and a bartender. Get your bathing suit on, pack your beach bag, and let’s go.”
“Who are these outgoing people we’re spending the day with?”
“Just a bunch of people I met in the club last night when you ditched me at the costume party, so you could hug up to Captain America on the dance floor. Don’t worry, you’ll like them.”
“If you say so. And I didn’t ditch you. You looked content in Popeye’s arms. Give me a minute to change and get everything together.”
“That’s my girl.” Tracy turns to rifle through her drawers for her bikini, ignoring my return jab.
While changing, I can’t shake the feeling she’s up to something, and I’m being played. But I’m going along with her plan either way. If there’s one fact I’m sure of, it’s that she’d never do anything intentionally to hurt me. She and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. We graduated from the same college, then moved to the Atlanta metro area together five years ago.
From the outside, everyone thinks everything comes easily to Tracy. She is tall and beautiful, with perfectly coiffed black hair and pearly white teeth. She’s one of the smartest people I know, and her sense of humor matches mine to a T, sarcastic and witty. We’ve been inseparable since the first day we met. She pushes me out of my comfort zone and is the sole reason I had the courage to attempt most of the daring feats I’ve accomplished.
I see polar opposites when I look at pictures of us together.
She’s outgoing and boisterous. I’m quiet and reserved.
She’s tall and perfectly poised. I’m short and awkward as hell.
She’s a beautiful, strong black woman. I’m a timid blonde with longstanding self-esteem issues.
Her childhood was one tragedy after another, but she chose to rise from the ashes and make something of herself rather than let anyone drag her down to their level. Many people in our small town, including her parents, believed she should stick to her own “kind” instead of the blended and diversified friends she chose. When we were seniors in high school, she announced she was in love with a white guy and didn’t care what anyone thought about it. While she wasn’t bothered by their differences, her parents certainly were, and forbade her to date him. Tensions remained high in her family for weeks, then tipped over the boiling point when she brought him home for dinner one night, unannounced.
All I know for certain is a huge brawl quickly ensued, but both families were tight-lipped about the details and the aftermath. The black eyes, busted lips, and icy glares between her brother and her boyfriend in the school hallway were the only confirmation the rest of the school had that the fight happened. I was the one who tried to console her broken heart and endless tears every day when we got home.
A few months after we graduated, she walked away from what she called a toxic family atmosphere and has barely looked back since. She still refuses to visit her family for more than a few hours at a time, and she never has taken another date home to meet them. She’s as stubborn as she is strong. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I have just as much strength, only in different areas. I find it harder to believe in myself than she does. In fact, she has ample faith to support both of us.
I feel her eyes burning a hole through me. When I turn my attention to her, she narrows her eyes, reads my body language, and immediately knows what’s going on in my mind.
“Get those thoughts out of your head right now. You are more than good enough for anyone on this island. In fact, you’re too good for ninety-nine percent of these fuckers. If you end up with anyone, he’ll be lucky to have you. If you decide no one is worth your time, I’ll fully support you in that too. Deal?”
“Deal.” I pull my beach bag onto my shoulder, and we make our way down to the excursion departure area of the resort.
Her ability to decipher my thoughts and emotions at times goes beyond how well she knows me. At twenty-seven, I should be more comfortable in my own skin. But I’m not quite there yet. But she’s right, I need to let my guard down and attempt to have a pleasurable time. Demons from my past try to cripple me and keep me locked away in an invisible cell. I’ve literally only had blind dates Tracy coerced me into accepting over the last several years.
The man behind the mask I met in the club felt so different from all the other men I’ve ever known. Maybe the real charade is his knight in shining armor act. But his concern for my safety wasn’t fake. There must be women in his life he cares deeply about—maybe his mother or even the sister he mentioned. That small, chivalrous act of walking me to my room made me trust him when he never even told me his name or showed me his face.
We were so close to an actual kiss while we stood in my doorway. His lips were right there, and I turned toward them, fully intending to be the one to initiate the kiss. In one second, I was ready to be bold and go for what I wanted. In the next, there was a voice in my head asking if I knew what I was doing, what I was inviting, and what could go terribly wrong. The cynical view won that round because I turned away from his full lips before anything happened.
Then he kissed my cheek instead.
That minor act spoke more to me than all the words in the dictionary combined. He knew I was hesitant and understood I was conflicted. Rather than pressuring me, he was giving me space to decide while still showing how much he desired me.
What makes a man really are the little things.
Those little things become the big things we can’t live without. They show character, define integrity, and reveal who the person really is. Anyone can pretend to be someone they’re not, but the truth will always show. Eventually.
I haven’t told Tracy about that encounter with him yet. She’ll think I’m crazy for being so infatuated with a stranger dressed in a Captain America costume. To be honest, I can’t explain it myself. But the truth is, I don’t want to try. Dissecting my feelings will only burst the bubble of giddiness I’ve felt since he approached me in the club. This is the first time, in a very long time, I’ve been excited about meeting a guy, and I’m not ready to lose that loving feeling.
Tracy and I reach the offshore excursions desk and check in for the magical outing she signed us up for without asking me first. We move to the area designated for o
ur boat ride out to the small island just offshore and wait for the others to join us.
“Good morning, ladies. Fancy meeting you two here.” The deep masculine voice resonates from behind me, and the flurry of birds in my chest takes flight all at once.
I turn my head to find Rod and Kevin approaching us, wearing swimming shorts, tank tops, sunglasses, and enormous smiles. Two more guys are right behind them, barely awake and possibly still drunk from last night. Their black shades cover their eyes and their preppy sun visors do nothing to hide their bed hair.
“Good morning, boys. Where are you headed today?” I already know the answer. I’m curious which one will confess to the charade first.
“We’re just along for the free booze. I heard drinking first thing in the morning cures a hangover from the night before. Fuck, I hope that’s true.” The blond guy rubs his temples. The dark-haired one beside him simply nods, then immediately winces, regretting the sudden movement.
“Please ignore our obnoxious friends. We tried to sneak out of our room without them hearing us, but no such luck.” Kevin rolls his eyes. “Rod rented the private cabana on the small island today and we invited a bunch of people from the party last night to come along for the fun.”
Kevin cuts his eyes to Tracy, and the intimate change in them is overt and instant.
I jerk my gaze toward her to see if she returns the sentiment. When her eyes soften, my jaw drops open before I can stop it.
She senses my stare and turns toward me. “What?”
“You and I will have a long talk. Later.” She’s leaving me out of the loop on this developing relationship with Kevin. She’s making plans and not involving me until they’re already set in stone. She’s supposed to be my best friend. We’re supposed to talk about all the guy stuff when they’re not around.
“If you don’t want to go to the cabana with a bunch of people, we won’t force you.” Rod pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, only improving the sexy, messy hair vibe he has. My heart sinks to my ankles, and the flurries in my chest seize in place.
All of Me: Rod & Daisy Duet Box Set Page 5
