by Maida Malby
Her hand gripped his right shoulder, her fingernails dug into his muscles, leaving half-moon marks. She cried out when Blake’s fingers finally enclosed her nipple and pulled gently. Her head thrashed on the pillow when he bent to lick the hardened nub and close his teeth around the tip. Her back bowed as his hands pulled her closer, and his mouth opened wider to take more of her flesh in. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rolled her hips as he moved to lavish the same treatment on her left breast.
The hammock swayed when Blake removed his knee from between her legs to replace it with the hardness of his full arousal. Only two damp pieces of clothing kept them from a complete joining.
Something was building inside her, but she didn’t know how to get relief from it. “Blake … please …” she begged. For what, she didn’t know. What she knew was that only he could give it to her.
He moved his hands to her bottom and locked their lower bodies together, his rock-hard cock rubbing faster against her flimsily covered mound. Her mind emptied of thought, her body filled with sensations—heat, friction, speed, light. The pleasure ratcheted up and finally burst as he tore his lips away from her breast and fastened them onto her mouth, swallowing her scream of release.
***
Blake gathered Krista close, feeling the early dusk air cool down their heated bodies. He searched beneath him for the sarong she discarded earlier and pulled it over them to keep away most of the breeze coming from the sea. He rubbed down the goosebumps that started to break out on her skin.
Her first orgasm, he realized. What gifts she had bestowed on him with her first kiss yesterday and now her first orgasm.
When he came out of the water and saw her lying nearly naked on the hammock, he almost fell to his knees as the desire for her slammed into him.
His gaze roamed over her smooth skin, and he questioned her desire to blemish it permanently with black ink. But, it was her body, her choice. He had no option but to accept her decision as long as she was happy with it.
He understood now how important it was to her to live up to the principles of the motto she’d recently embraced. Krista had told him about her friends from college—about Sheila who inspired the dictum, and her belated commitment to fulfill the promise they all made to their deceased friend. The vow was to seize every moment that came their way, and make the most of their time in the present. That was why she wanted to try doing things she had never done. He had promised to assist her in making all of them happen.
Every second they spent together revealed more and more about Krista. What he knew so far impressed him greatly. His attraction to her evolved in a totally unusual way than his norm with every other woman he’d dated. He noticed her for her brain before he came to appreciate her physical beauty. After what they had just done, there was no question about her desirability now or ever.
Their lovemaking went further than Blake expected. He had only planned to touch her, but her passionate response was his undoing.
When he gazed upon the bounty of her breasts bared for the first time, he offered up a prayer of gratitude to the Creator for making such a perfect being. And when he tasted her, how sweet and soft she was. But hard, too. His mouth watered at the idea of taking her taut nipples into his mouth again. His hands tightened on her back as he fought the urge to feel the weight of her luscious breasts once more.
He’d tried to take his time; he truly did. But her throaty moans and husky entreaties egged him on until he was out of his mind with the need to come. Somehow, he found the strength to remain in control of his body and hold off his climax.
When he finally let himself come, it would be inside her. What an explosion it will be. Just then, color burst from the sky to his left, perfectly matching the image that popped into his head.
Krista’s head lifted at the noise. “What’s that?” She felt around for her bikini top and to his disappointment, put it back on.
“Fireworks,” he said, sitting up and pulling her body to rest on his chest. He arranged the sarong to cover her front, then wrapped his arms around her. “Perlas puts on a display every Sunday to signal the end of the week and welcome a new one.”
“Nice, but why not Friday? Isn’t that when most guests arrive?” She nestled closer, seeking his warmth. The sun had fully set, and the night air had cooled considerably. Faint illumination was provided by the fireworks and the tiki torches that guarded the entrance to each cottage.
“They can do Fridays too,” he promised her. If she wants fireworks on Friday, I’ll make sure there is a display this coming weekend.
“Hey, are you hungry, sweetie?” He liked having her close, but he was starting to itch from the sand and salt, and his swim shorts needed to be thrown in the wash.
She yawned. “Yeah, but I want something light, like soup or salad. I’d like to sleep early, too. We got a lot planned for tomorrow.” She moved to get off the hammock, so he gave her a little push to aid her ascent. He heard her murmur of thanks as she looked around for her stuff.
Seeing Krista yawn made Blake realize that he was beat. He’d been operating on only four hours of sleep, and he hadn’t fully shaken off the effects of the alcohol yet.
Dismounting from the hammock, he took her hand to walk her back to her cottage. He halted at the beginning of the path that marked the entrance to her kubo. Their day together was at an end. He had to hit the pause button on his seduction plan right here.
“Thanks for letting me spend the day with you. I had fun.” He didn’t lie. He’d truly enjoyed being with her, especially during the past hour. He could spend the next five days doing what they did in that hour, over and over again.
“I did, too.” She reached out a hand to touch his jaw, her soft palm brushing against his bristly stubbles. She raised herself on tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “Goodnight, Blake.”
He caught the back of her neck lest she move away. That measly peck didn’t satisfy him. What am I, five years old?
He pressed her closer, slanted his mouth over hers, and gave her an adult kiss—a kiss that mimicked the sexual act they hadn’t yet engaged in but soon would. His lips worked hers open, his tongue tangled with hers before he let her go.
Blake stepped back, looking with satisfaction at Krista’s flushed cheeks and the plumpness of her just-kissed lips. Now, that was a proper goodnight kiss. “Goodnight, Krista. Sweet dreams.”
MONDAY
Chapter Nine
Tatay [ta-tie] n. – father.
It is indeed better and wetter under the sea. Krista kept thinking of the tune from The Little Mermaid as she, Blake, and Dencio, the Perlas’ Dive Master, hovered near Friday’s Rock, a fish-feeding station that was probably the most popular scuba diving site in Boracay. Because its bottom was only eighteen meters deep, all levels of divers could go there.
It didn’t surprise her that Blake was certified as an Advanced Scuba Diver. More astonishing would be to discover the things he couldn’t do rather than those he could. The man was just so darned impressive.
Look at him now with his fancy underwater camera, taking close-up photos of the colorful fishes. She would love to see the pictures later; now, she wanted to take in the astounding marvel of this underwater world. She smiled widely, nearly dislodging her regulator from her mouth, when a school of striped fish passed by and she thought she saw Nemo. All I know of marine life, I learned from cartoon movies.
She blinked when she saw Blake. He’d swum closer to take pictures of her. Scowling, she covered her face with her gloved hands. Ugh. How anyone could look good wearing a full-face diving mask was beyond her. They tussled playfully underwater. Blake swam around trying to capture her expressions while she kept turning away.
Their fun was interrupted by Dencio, the spoilsport DM, who signaled thumbs up, meaning they should ascend. It was the end of the dive. That hand signal was one of the first things she learned this morning when she sat down for the crash course in scuba diving.
Being with Blak
e and a Dive Master allowed Krista to go in open water. However, if she wanted to dive in the future, she would need a certificate. She thought she would do exactly that; it had been so much fun.
On the boat for their return trip to the resort, she said as much to Blake. She gave an okay sign—thumb and index finger forming a loop, the other three fingers extended—to both the dive and to removing the heavy equipment from her body. She couldn’t wait to get back to land and take off the neoprene suit as well, but that was a minor complaint compared to the wondrous experience she just had.
Comfortably dressed now in one of the tank tops and shorts ensembles from her island wardrobe, Krista perused the lunch menu at one of Perlas’ restaurants and made a face.
“What’s the matter?” asked Blake. He had also showered and changed into a t-shirt and shorts.
Looking at him, she wondered why the company had hired the Hollywood actor to endorse their male grooming line. Blake could do an excellent job himself. Even better, they would save money on talent fees.
In marked contrast to yesterday’s five o’clock shadow, Blake’s face was clean shaven. She blushed remembering how the bristles on his jaw left chafe marks on her breasts.
She shook her head at the dangerous direction her thoughts were taking. “I don’t think I can eat fish ever again after seeing those colorful creatures today.” She grinned at Blake. “Did you take a picture of Nemo?”
Blake laughed. “No, but I found Dory.”
This guy gets me. He really does. The waiter interrupted their amusement to take their orders—chicken inasal for Blake, and La Paz batchoy for Krista. Both dishes hailed from Western Visayas, the same region as Boracay.
“I can see now why my friend Angela loves scuba diving. That was incredible! I’m sure she’s having so much fun in Koh Samui right now,” she told Blake. Angela also had advanced certification.
“Koh Samui? Does she live there? My brother Craig is there, too. He’s the executive chef at one of the major hotels in the island.” She heard Blake’s pride in his brother’s accomplishment in his voice. His closeness to his family was another thing they had in common.
“No, Angela owns a travel adventure company. She’s on the island for a couple of weeks to network and to see how her Thai counterparts do things, so she can replicate them in the Philippines,” she explained. “I’ll text her to check out your brother’s restaurant while she’s there. She loves good food as much as I do. She’s this tiny little thing, a little over five feet tall, but boy, can she eat.”
Then she remembered something he said earlier. “Wait, your other brother is Aidan, you’re Blake, and now there’s Craig. A-B-C. Let me guess, your sister’s name begins with a D!” She chortled when Blake groaned, amused by how that naming convention was so like the Filipinos’.
“Darcy—the runt of the family is named Darcy,” he confirmed. He brought out his phone and clicked on the photos app.
She gasped when she saw a studio portrait of the Ryans. “You have a gorgeous family, Blake.” Not surprising, really. But she was blinded by all that beauty in one photo.
“Thanks. That was taken last year after Aidan’s promotion to lieutenant colonel.” Blake pointed to the commanding figure of a military officer in dress uniform who could pass for his twin, only leaner and more stern-looking. He handed the phone to Krista so she could take a closer look.
Aidan, Blake, and Darcy all looked like their mother, who was still pretty for a woman Krista guessed to be in her late fifties. Craig, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of their dad. Both built like bruisers, but they had warm smiles.
It was easy to see why Blake called Darcy the runt. Not only was she much younger than her brothers—probably mid-twenties compared to their thirties age range—but also of medium height and slender build. The only girl had the black hair and blue eyes that ran in the family’s DNA, and they looked stunning on her. The Ryan family was most certainly a supremely photogenic clan.
Krista handed the phone back to him, suddenly missing her parents and siblings. This was her first birthday without them. She’d just have to try to get them on a video call on Wednesday. Her father hated the impersonality of modern technology, but as a former teacher, he respected the genius of their inventors.
“Food. Yes.” Blake cheered when he saw the waiter approach with their order. “Gutom na ako. Sobra,” he said in Filipino, meaning he was ravenous. She couldn’t help but be charmed by his occasional lapses into her native language.
“How did you learn Filipino? Did you take classes?” She dug into her batchoy—a soup made with pork organs, crushed pork cracklings, chicken stock, beef loin, and round noodles that originated in the district of La Paz, Iloilo City.
“From my aunt,” Blake replied.
“You’re part-Pinoy?” Her jaw dropped at his statement.
“Unfortunately, no. I have an honorary aunt who is Filipina. We call her Tita Belen. She’s the cook at the pub my father co-owns in Hell’s Kitchen. Her husband, Uncle Jack—also Irish-American—is my dad’s business partner. They’re my parents’ best friends, and their two sons, Patrick and Ronan, grew up with us.”
“She must have been happy that you’re working in the Philippines, her native land,” Krista commented, but she barely listened to Blake’s response. She applied herself to her food and only nodded absently when he excused himself to take a phone call.
A Filipina and Irish-American pairing that worked? That puts ideas in my head, doesn’t it? Dare I hope that something more can develop from the physical attraction between us? Can there be something to look forward to beyond this week?
The American and Filipina unions that she knew of didn’t make it—they’d all divorced, with the women coming back to the Philippines much worse off than when they left.
Would her own parents have done well together? If her biological father had known her mom was pregnant, would he have come back to marry her? She loved her tatay, the man who raised her as his own, but something in her called out to finding her real father. Krista acknowledged the futility of such thoughts, but she couldn’t help the longing inside.
“Aray!” The simultaneous exclamation of pain, the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor, and the crash of glass snapped her out of her reverie and onto the tableau in front of her.
Blake bent to help a server to her feet, offering his apologies for bumping into her. He got down on his knees, assisting in the clean-up, putting the nervous girl at ease. He took Krista’s breath away. He should have looked subservient in that position—humble, diminished. But, no. His kindness enhanced his masculinity and his strength.
Oh, Krista. If you’re not careful, that girl won’t be the only one who fell because of Blake. You will, too. Harder. With no chance of being able to get up. The question is, would I really want to?
“No …Yes … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?” Blake was back on his seat beside her.
“Uhm, I don’t know how you keep any employees if you mow them down like that,” she said teasingly. Good save, Krista.
Blake laughed. “Yeah, I’m such a klutz. We have to double their salaries and workers’ compensation insurance to get them to stay with Perlas.”
His appreciative gaze roamed over her face, showing his liking for her humor. He reached for her hand. “Sweetheart, I know I promised to spend the day with you, but I’m going to have to beg off this afternoon. Some urgent business came up with the resort and since I’m the only partner in residence, I have to take charge.”
She squeezed his hand in reassurance. “That’s okay. I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can find things to do. If not, I can always read and just relax. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“Thanks. Dinner later?” At her nod, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left. She watched as his long strides took him away from her.
That, Krista, is why you should be able to get up if you fall. She must get used to seeing his back as he left
her. Because he would. Eventually.
***
Krista selected the cabana as the best place to relax. The sun was very hot, so she chose not to go for a walk on the beach. Instead, she did the yoga exercises she had been neglecting since arriving on the island.
She didn’t want to stay inside her kubo after her workout; it wasn’t much different from being in her condo in Makati. She also had no desire to get wet again after being in the water all morning, but she liked the view her small garden pool offered.
A massage so soon after lunch didn’t appeal to her, so she booked a session for another day. All the unaccustomed exercise from this morning, and that she planned to subject her body to in the coming days, would surely leave her aching. If she went ahead with her plan to go to bed with Blake on Wednesday night, she’d need the spa even more on Thursday. Krista sighed. “Who am I kidding? Sleeping with Blake is not a question of if, but when.”
Krista posted a few pictures of the dive on her online diary page, then grabbed her romance novel and eyeglasses. Adding to her pile a bottle of cold water, one of the hats that Blake gave her, and a towel, she headed to the cabana and its sunbeds. With the fan overhead stirring the air made fragrant by the ylang-ylang flowers in the garden, Krista should have been as comfortable as anyone could be. Except that I am not comfy—far from it, in fact.
The love scene in the book was not helping lower her body’s temperature. The author’s description of the couple’s lovemaking was far too reminiscent of last night’s make-out session. Only she and Blake didn’t go all the way like the fictional lovers in the book, who consummated their relationship on the night they met.
Could I have slept with Blake right after my job interview last April? Krista flushed at the thought. No, even knowing how great he is, it wouldn’t have happened. Neither of them were hit by insta-lust that day, as far as she could tell.
