by Nina Strych
The driver opened up the cooler built into the bench and pawed around in the ice. “Drink?” he asked.
They got their drinks and settled onto the benches, him keeping an eye out for Mike and everything else while he told her about the area, the various spots for seeing turtles or sharks, and all sorts of interesting things.
His accented English and deep voice combined with the rocking of the boat to sooth her nerves and soon enough, Amy found herself sprawled comfortably with her feet up on the rail. She felt good. Really good.
“Ah, here he comes,” the driver said, tucking his drink bottle into a bag for trash and moving to the swim platform in case Mike needed a boost.
Amy had been purposefully low in her seat—at first anyway—because she didn’t want to stare like a creeper at Mike in the water. Watching him swim with those strong strokes and his wet skin when he surfaced was making her nether regions very uncomfortable. In a good way, but still uncomfortable.
There was no looking away as he climbed up the platform, taking up so much space with that incredible body of his. The driver pointed to the towel and she tossed it his way, then enjoyed the view of Mike drying off his face and the way his chest and stomach moved with his harder breaths.
He grinned at her and stepped inside the boat proper. “That was amazing. I wish you’d have come in.”
She tucked her empty drink bottle into the trash to avoid staring at the way his board shorts were clinging to him now that they were wet. She could see the outline of something not at all small inside there and she definitely didn’t want to get caught staring that direction.
When she turned back around, he leaned over and shook the water out of his hair at her, sprinkling her with now-cold water and making her squeal. He laughed and said, “See, next time come in and that won’t work. I’m tempted to rub my head on you!”
She giggled and flinched into a ball when he took another step toward her, water dripping all over from his shorts and body. Then what he said sunk in and she froze, trying to hold back a laugh, which only served to make her snort. He must have gotten the unintended dirty joke at the same time, because he put a hand to his mouth and it was obvious he was trying to suppress a laugh too.
He took his hand away and said, “That came out wrong.”
She spluttered and that set him off. He dropped to the bench next to her and then made good on his notion, sticking his cold wet hair into the crook of her neck while she squealed and pressed up against the back of the driver’s seat.
By the time she managed to slither out from under him to the bottom of the boat, she was soaked through and she tasted salt on her lips. She threw another towel at him and scrambled for the bench on the other side, grabbing up his shirt and holding it over the side.
“Truce or shirt?” she hollered, still laughing.
“You win. I love that shirt,” Mike said, flipping the towel over his head to dry his hair.
She tossed the shirt at him and then noticed the driver. He was sitting in his seat and watching them with a grin on his face. He shrugged when she started at finding him watching.
“We go?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m starving. I feel like eating an obscene amount of food.”
Mike slid the towel back around his neck at the word food. “Oh yeah, let’s do that!”
Nine
Mike looked out at the late afternoon sunshine on the water and wondered if there was any place on earth more beautiful than this. The simple combination of sunshine, warm tropical waters, and the soft sand under his feet did something to the human mind and body. It was like a welcome home of sorts.
Of course, he was having an amazing time and that might be coloring his views to some extent. After their boat ride the day before, they’d had dinner on the patio. Unlike during their late lunch, the conversation had been easy and friendly.
Amy’s eyes sparkled when she spoke and the way she leaned over when she wanted to say something in particular made him forget about the food on his plate every time. It wasn’t just the way the leaning revealed that hint of cleavage or made the hollow at the bottom of her throat deepen. It was also the way she focused on what they were saying, as if the actual conversation between them were important to her.
They’d brought the big hotel book with them to dinner, then proceeded to debate the merits of every single activity on offer. Weighed against each day they had available versus the time required, they’d narrowed things down a bit by the time they were sipping coffee.
Mike did worry that she might be filling up the time with activities to avoid what she really came here for, but on the balance of things, it wasn’t a ridiculous schedule and it left them each evening together.
And the nights were unscheduled. The nights were what he was really hoping to fill for her, and not just because he had a job to do.
This morning they’d done breakfast again, then walked the beach a while and talked. Not about anything specific, but just getting to know each other. There was a lot Mike couldn’t reveal—that was escort 101—but he’d learned of her and she of him even with those restrictions in place.
Afterward, they’d driven into town and window-shopped, looked in a gallery filled with amazing art, then lunched at a popular local joint, relaxing with a couple of beers and enjoying the sight of so many people going about their day.
And what he’d discovered more than anything was that he genuinely liked Amy. She was exactly the kind of woman that he would have wanted to date, to hang around with, to simply be with.
And that was a very bad thing.
Suddenly, he had a feeling Amy was close. He turned to look in the direction of her cottage and saw her walking his way. She was wearing a swimsuit and nothing else. A beach towel swung from one hand and made the sway of her hips even more eye-catching.
He sucked in a breath and looked at her, all of her. Her suit was some sort of nod to a one-piece, but it showed a wide expanse of her peachy skin. Her waist curved in tightly over her rounded hips, a perfect representation of what a woman should look like. Her breasts were so much fuller when not hidden under a shirt. Her legs were long, the muscles in her thighs flexing beneath the flesh as she strolled through the shifting sand.
She gave him a tentative smile and a little wave, then tossed back those curls and revealed her neck and shoulder. The urge to run up and bite her was so strong it was almost a physical push.
Almost as if she had some sort of string going from her to his cock, he felt himself twitch and begin to rise inside his trunks. It would be obvious and probably off-putting, so he turned and ran into the water, hoping that would hide what was rapidly growing down below the waistline of his trunks. By the time he turned back around to face her, he was as hard as a rock and he hoped no one was wearing a swim mask anywhere close by.
Waving her in, he said, “The water’s amazing! Come in!”
It was all he could do not to grab himself and push his cock down into a position uncomfortable enough that it might make his hard-on go away. He was too visible for that so he ran another awful baseball game through his mind as she dropped her towel to the sand.
When she put out just one foot to test the water, emphasizing the curve of her hip and holding her hair away from her just so, he had to duck under the water for a second. It was either that or run up and start humping her leg like a dog. And if a hard-on was off-putting, then that would be a major turn-off.
“It’s warm!” she called, smiling at him where he bobbed in the water and begged his cock to go to sleep.
She waded in, her breasts moving in the most delightful way as she swung her arms against the resistance of the water. All Mike could do was back up a little more, getting into slightly deeper water.
When the water was waist high on her, she was close enough that he could see the outlines of her water-taut nipples through the suit. They were small, tight little nubs and his hands almost got away from him. The desire to brush his thumbs across them and s
ee if he could make them even tighter was nearly overwhelming.
She dipped her head back into the water and then she was there, almost within arm’s reach and so enticing that Mike didn’t know what to do. He was entirely at a loss. What was it about this woman that drove him crazy with desire like this?
“It feels like a bath,” she said, delighted and splashing a little. “I can’t believe I haven’t been swimming yet. I’m an idiot!”
He laughed with her and then swooped around her, splashing her a little as she bounced on her toes. She arched so that she nearly floated on her back, her breasts out of the water and her legs gently kicking within arm’s reach. Little flashes of pink from her painted toes reminded him of the way her skin felt when he put sunscreen on her.
It was too much to bear. Really.
Mike swam after her and grabbed her ankle, making her squeal and kick at him half-heartedly. Shifting his grip up to her calf, he pulled her along in the water for a second so that her arms flew out to her sides. She floated past and her hand brushed his side, the fingers leaving little hot spots where they touched.
Almost by instinct, his hands circled her waist. The feel of her slick skin and the way she was moving in the water made him act without thinking. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her closer. He wanted to pull her against his cock, for her to feel it and for him to feel her against him. He wanted to kiss her, to lick the drops of salt water from her lips and bite at her, to feel the soft underside of those luscious lips with his tongue.
Her hands connected with his chest before he could do any of that, her elbows locking against him and her knees bracing against his thighs. In her eyes he saw desire. The way her breath came through parted lips made that abundantly clear. But he also saw her nervousness and knew she wasn’t ready for this. He was being selfish, letting his all-consuming need to touch her cloud his judgement and forget his place.
He smiled and let go of her waist, swishing the water to pull his body back from hers. Once some space opened between them, he turned a little to side so she wouldn’t see or touch his almost painfully rigid cock by accident.
The moment passed and they returned to their swim, but her legs brushed his as they played in the water at odd times. Each time they did he had to force himself not to let his fingers trace a path up her legs and seek out the center of her.
This was, Mike decided, going to be torture. He’d never wanted anyone like this, not ever. Not even his first girlfriend in high school had inspired this kind of desire. And that was back when his virginity was clouding his judgement and his jeans strangling his eagerness.
This was different. It came from some other place and Mike didn’t understand it at all. It wasn’t only physical, but something more. It was a tug that pulled at his whole body and not just the parts of him usually reserved for business.
They’d really only known each other for a day and a half, but by the time they left the water, he was aching with desire for her. It had to be some bizarre chemistry between them, but if it was only that, why did talking with her about nothing at all feel so good, so right? Why did her voice burrow inside him like it did?
And why was he thinking thoughts that a man in his position should never, ever think?
Ten
Amy paced with the phone in her hand, her finger poised above the green square that would connect her with Marion. She’d been on such a tight budget for so long, the very idea of using the phone internationally was difficult to contemplate.
Screw it, she thought and stabbed the button. As she listened to the phone reach across the sea, she paced in front of the windows and watched the moonlight dance on the low waves. It really was breathtaking. And now, for the first time in her life, she had swum in water so warm it felt as if she were merely floating in a perfect summer breeze. It really was everything she’d been told.
Perfect.
And so was Mike. He was like some sort of ideal specimen of male, like someone had delved into her mind and picked out every fantastic aspect of every man she’d ever dated and then rolled them all into one guy.
It wasn’t just his incredible body, which was truly, epically incredible. It wasn’t just his far-too-handsome face, all chiseled planes and soft eyes. It was the way he spoke, the way he looked at her, the way he touched things, as if he knew he was too strong to be rough or careless.
When she’d changed into her swimsuit and met him at the beach for a late afternoon swim, she’d been able to pick him out instantly. Facing out to sea, his broad shoulders and rippling muscle were like a beacon amongst the smaller figures scattered around. His dark hair fluttered in the breeze and she picked out hints of deep red—yet more fire—when the sun shone down on him.
Amy had almost turned around right then. Her suit was a one-piece, but that was a technicality. It was Marion’s choice, of course, and nothing that Amy would have ever selected. She’d been looking at simple tank suits meant for swimming laps, but Marion had snatched those away with a snort and shoved this one at her. Black, with a wide scoop cut out at the side that bared her midriff and most of her back, it had one wide strap over the shoulder and showed far more skin than she liked.
Almost as if sensing her, he’d turned and stared as she picked her way over the hot sand. Amy thought she’d seen something in his face, a hint of desire, a fire being stoked. Then he’d jerked a little and splashed out into the water, beckoning her from a waist-high depth.
And later, when they’d been playing, she’d wanted him to kiss her so badly her legs would have buckled had she not been held up by the water. And it looked like he’d wanted to as well. His hands connected with her waist and he’d kicked closer, but then Amy had chickened out and locked her elbows so he couldn’t get any nearer, her hands splayed across his slippery chest.
“Oh my god! Did you screw him yet? Please send me a picture,” Marion said as the line connected.
“What if this would have been someone else?” Amy asked, laughing.
“It’s your phone, you ding-dong. So, did you boink him? Gross, I got pee on the seat.”
The sound of Marion rushing about filled the line, then the distinct sound of a flush. “I don’t even want to know,” Amy said.
Marion laughed her big, unashamed laugh and said, “My phone was on the table and I was taking a piss. You do the math.”
“You could have just called me back, you know.”
A snort came through the line and Marion said, “Abso-fucking-lutely not. Did you sleep with him?”
“God! No, I haven’t slept with him.”
“Will you send me a picture?”
“I am not going to hold up my phone and snap a picture to text you. He’ll know what I’m doing. That’s crass.”
“You could do it sneaky like. Catch him during the afterglow or something. So, boink him so I can get a picture.”
Amy watched as two people walked along the moonlit beach, the man’s arm around the woman’s waist and their heads close. She sighed. “I’m not going to do that so you can have a picture.”
Marion didn’t answer right away. When she spoke, her smart-alecky tone was gone. “Are you okay? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Plopping down on the couch, Amy sighed again. How to put it all into words? Well, this was Marion, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t read between every line Amy had ever drawn. “He’s great. Too great. I mean, he’s a hooker, so maybe he’s just really good at his job and a good actor or something, but he seems so…so…”
“So what?”
“Nice. He’s considerate, polite, open and incredibly sexy. I mean, he’s like a walking and talking fantasy come to life.”
“And this is a problem for you how, Amy?”
Amy ran her hands down the beautifully rough robe provided by the hotel. Like everything else, it was perfect. Too perfect.
“I paid for him,” she finally said.
“Yes, yes you did. Which is why you should boink him.”
Amy shook her head, wishing she could see Marion face to face. She might be full of smart remarks, but she would read the conflict in Amy and know exactly what to do. Marion was sure of everything all the time. But she wasn’t here, which meant Amy had to use her words. That wasn’t so easy.
“Marion, I like him. I like him a lot.” There, those were the words. Let’s see what her friend would make of those.
“Oh,” Marion replied, using a single syllable for the first time in a very long time.
“That’s not encouraging me, Marion.”
“Yeah, okay, I’m thinking here.” A bit of humming came through the line, and the rustling of Marion pacing her apartment far away. Finally, she said, “I don’t have an answer here, but Amy, you know the deal. This is temporary. It’s supposed to be for you, not for you to hurt yourself with. Do you like him too much to keep perspective?”
“Perspective is just not going to be my friend,” Amy said truthfully. “I can remind myself after the fact, but when I’m near him, all I see is him.”
“Damn, that’s bad,” Marion said. “I’m so sorry, hun. What can I do?”
“Nothing. What could you do? I just needed to tell you because I knew you would understand.”
“Are you going to come home? Call it off? Maybe ask for a replacement or something?”
Amy slouched further down on the couch so that the couple was no longer in sight. They’d stopped on the beach and were kissing, which is the last thing Amy needed to see. She looked up at the ceiling and thought about her answer.
“No, I’m not going to do any of that. This place is beautiful and I’ve never seen anything like it. I do feel some of the stress going away, even though this other thing is stressing me out too. And I think Mike is having fun. He’s great to hang around with. He has a way of getting me to do stuff that I really want to do, but wouldn’t on my own. And he’s fun to talk to. Did you know he knows the names of fish? I mean, like the real names, the Latin ones. Not all of them, but some of them…” She trailed off, realizing she sounded like she did when she first started dating someone she really liked.
