by Rylee Swann
I shake my head, baffled, as I study the menu.
“Is something wrong?”
I try for a reassuring smile. “Not at all. It’s just everything on the menu sounds so good. I’m just trying to figure out what to order.”
He nods with a smile and retrieves a lighter from his jeans pocket. There’s an unlit candle on the table, and he proceeds to light it. “I hear the lobster is very good here,” he says as the candle sparks to romantic life.
I gape at him. Then start to bluster. “Oh, umm, no. Lobster is too expensive, I’m sure. Let’s see. How about—”
With a finger, he pushes down my menu so he can see my face. “Look, Kim, I know this is just a first date, and we don’t know where it’s going or anything, but I feel like splurging on you, okay? Get the lobster. I’m getting it too. Then, if this does go somewhere…” He shrugs and smiles. “Well, then we have a great first date story. I don’t know. I hope I’m not coming on too strong. I sometimes do that.”
His smile falters, and I realize he’s nervous. This self-confident Adonis is nervous, and I’m the cause. I’m flabbergasted. It also makes me feel good. Very, very good.
I smile back and motion to the waitress. When she arrives at our table, I order the lobster.
Scott adds a bottle of wine, and when that and the food arrives, the conversation starts to flow. It’s like we’ve known each other for years, and I’m finding it a little insane how comfortable I am with him.
We chuckle over the silliest things, and when I have trouble cracking my lobster claw, and it flies out of the nutcracker, Scott nearly chokes. I join in and don’t feel embarrassed. Why am I not at all self-conscious with him?
“I wish I had a camera to capture your face when the claw went flying,” Scott says as he leads me from the restaurant. “It was a priceless moment.”
I bump his arm with my shoulder as we walk. “Stop reminding me,” I say, but can’t keep a straight face. It was funny. “I’ll never live that down.”
“You’re not supposed to. I’ll tease you about it forever,” he says and laughs again.
I peek up at him. “Well, I do have to admit, it was the best lobster claw I’ve ever eaten.”
He looks at me to see if I’m serious and then we both burst into renewed laughter.
After a few more moments, he starts leading me in the opposite direction of his car. I hesitate, thinking he might have lost track of where he parked, but he pulls me along. “It’s still early. I thought we could walk along the boardwalk for a little while.”
I nod, but otherwise remain quiet. I don’t want something flippant, coy, or stupid to fly out of my mouth and ruin this perfect moment.
We walk up the wooden incline to the boardwalk, our shoes making a pleasant thwapping sound on the planks. The moon is shining a path on the ocean, other couples are walking hand in hand, music is playing from a band farther down the beach, and a sweet light breeze carries the heavenly scent of coconut oil. If I tried, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this moment.
Scott puts his arm around me, and we walk in comfortable silence for a while. Finally, he steers us toward an empty bench facing the ocean. We sit close together, our legs touching. It’s comfortable and erotic at the same time.
“It’s really nice here,” Scott says and pulls me in closer, the arm around my shoulders causing heat to sizzle along my skin. “I don’t know why I don’t come here to surf on my days off. I guess I should start.”
I laugh. “I knew it! I knew you were a surfer.”
He chuckles. “Am I that obvious? I’d want a place to shower and change though. Sad but true, I don’t have a beat up old surfer car anymore. Someplace close to the beach, to shower, I mean.”
I gulp and try to find my voice. “Yeah, umm… that would be convenient.”
Scott laughs. “You’re not going to give me an inch, are you?” He looks down at me, and I see something — lust? desire? heat? — smoldering in his blue eyes. “Well, Kim, I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind?
Did I miss something?
“Umm… mind what?”
His eyes darken. They really are smoldering just like in those romance books. I’m in awe and almost miss what he says next.
“I want to kiss you now, so I hope you don’t mind.” His voice is low, rough, and yet, at the same time, very sweet.
My mouth drops open. Oh, how very convenient.
He smiles and inclines his head until our lips are just barely touching. The shock hits me like a tidal wave, and I feel like I’m drowning. His lips are soft and hot. He’s burning me, but I press my lips harder onto his, seeking the flame. I can feel him smiling, and he traces a path across my lips with his tongue before sitting back and breaking the gentle contact. I think I’m whining deep in my throat.
In protest.
I want more.
“That was nice,” he says in a tender whisper. “Thank you.”
I’m amazed by how much we learn about each other while we sit and talk and look out at the ocean and at each other.
He’s a middle child. His parents are still together. He almost drowned the first time he went surfing and had to be rescued by a lifeguard. He loves scary movies. His favorite food is Italian with seafood being a close second. He wanted to be a cop for as long as he can remember. I laugh when he tells me he’s addicted to the TV show “Cops.” And he laughs with me.
He’s so damned easy to talk to, and I could sit here listening to him forever.
And I try so hard not to let the doubts creep in.
Why is he with me?
Me?
Yeah, that was a real good attempt at keeping the doubts at bay.
I’ve lost track of the hour when it’s time to end the evening. We both look sad and disappointed as he drives me back to my apartment and walks me to the door.
I wonder how it will end. Will he kiss me again? Should I invite him in? I mean, this was like the perfect date. Does it end with sex?
I fumble in my bag for my keys, find them amidst all the other junk, and turn to him, anticipating another heavenly kiss.
“Let’s take this inside?” he asks and smiles at me.
I swoon. I want to say yes so much. The entire evening has been erotic foreplay, and I want the grand finale. I want him. But then, at the most inopportune time, that damned nagging voice of reason speaks to me inside my head.
Don’t put out on the first date, or you’ll never see him again.
I don’t want to listen, but I know the voice is right.
I sigh and put my hand on his arm. “Next time? I hope there’s a next time.”
Scott nods in understanding, but I can see the disappointment on his face. “Are you sure?”
I nod and force myself not to drag him inside. “Next time,” I say again.
He sighs and studies me. I bite my lip and look down. “Okay. I had a wonderful time tonight. I’d like to see you again.” He leans down and lightly brushes his lips against mine and then straightens before I’ve barely had a taste of him.
I guess he’s from the leave ‘em wanting more school of dating. It’s maddening but refreshing in a weird tingly sort of way.
I push my hair back from my face. “Me too. I’d like that.”
He smiles, and I almost reach for my sunglasses. “Great! I’ll call you soon. G’night.”
And he’s gone before I can blink.
CHAPTER 16
Michael and I just had sex. The voyeur is gone, and my boss is in the bathroom. He didn’t ask me if I’d had sex or touched myself before we got started, and I had to work at hiding my disappointment. It was almost like he wished that conversation hadn’t taken place at all.
I’ll admit it. Michael’s mixed signals are driving me crazy. It makes me question whether there are any mixed signals in the first place.
Yet, the sex with him was as amazing as ever. I’m still flushed with the afterglow, and I don’t think my muscles will work when I ask the
m to. Slowly, I get out of bed, and half hobble to the hotel dresser where I’ve left my clothes. There’s a large mirror above it, and I stare at myself for several long minutes.
How is it possible anyone wants to fuck this?
Or watch?
I’m fat. My hair is a wreck.
I jump when Michael slides his arms around me from behind and pulls me against his chest. Our eyes meet in the mirror.
Why the hell did he hire me?
“Why are you frowning? Is something wrong?” he asks with what sounds like genuine concern in his voice.
“It’s nothing, really. Nothing’s wrong.” I try to pull away, but he holds me in place.
My eyes must have gone back to their harsh appraisal of my body because Michael’s next words shock me. “You’re not fat, Kim. In fact, you’re beautiful.”
“W-what?”
“I see you frowning at yourself. It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, come on. You told me to lose weight the first time we met,” I remind him.
He nods. “Yes, I did. I know what the voyeurs want to see, what they’ll pay the big bucks for. They’re assholes, Kim. I told you that too.” He pulls me back a couple of steps so that my body is fully revealed in the mirror. “Let’s take an honest assessment, shall we?”
I shake my head, but he continues. He reaches down and lightly places his hands on my knees, then teasingly draws them up my legs. I quiver at his touch and lean into him, closing my eyes. I could get used to this kind of assessment, but it ends all too quickly. “Open your eyes. I want to show you something.”
I sigh and start to turn to him, but he stops me. “No, look at yourself in the mirror. Here.” He taps my thighs gently. “Your thighs remind me of the greatest beauties like Marilyn Monroe. Too much thinner and you’d be rail thin. Nothing to hold onto.”
I start to squirm and protest this dissection of my body, but he continues to hold me tight and presses on. “Just listen to me.” His hands creep up my thighs and dance playfully between them for a moment, but he moves on, much to my disappointment. His hands rest on my stomach now. “Your stomach is a little rounded, but you’re not fat.”
“Yes, I—”
He doesn’t let me finish. “What you are is out of shape. That is your disappointment with your own body. You are not fat; you are not ugly. You just don’t take the time to take care of yourself. Am I right?”
He rubs my belly like I’m some kind of Buddha, and I shake my head in denial. “I am too fat. Look at that double chin, for crying out loud.”
He rumbles a sound of annoyance in his throat and lifts my chin with his finger. “Kim, you’re smarter than this. Everyone but super models have double chins when they hold their head that way. You are not fat, you do not have a double chin. Get yourself to the gym daily, tone your body, and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
I’m near tears. Fuck, I’m such a baby. “But you were so mean the first time we met. You said—”
He sighs. “Yes, I know what I said. You were a stranger, and I was sizing you up as a potential employee. I told you the truth then, and I’m telling you the truth now. Kim…” He spins me around to face him, my breasts crush against his shirt. “Look at me.” It’s a command, and I slowly, hesitantly lift my eyes to his. He’s smiling, which is the last thing I expect to see.
“I—”
“A few minutes ago, I said you were beautiful. I meant it, but it’s more than that. You’re…” His smile widens, and I wait breathlessly for what he’s going to say. “You are charming and adorable and what makes that so thrilling is knowing what a wild tiger you are in bed.” He spins me back to the mirror. “Look at you. Look at your smile, your eyes, those sweet lips. Adorable. And you’re so short.” He laughs. “Petite adorable. And I’m not even mentioning your tits which you know are my favorite part. You are so fucking adorable and so fucking hot, Kim. It pisses me off when you put yourself down like this.”
I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to see what Michael says he sees. I start to smile. He’s making me feel so good, and I love him for it.
Wait.
What?
No, no, bad, Kim!
But I can’t help it, and I turn to him, my smile widening, my mouth opening and…
He makes a stop sign with his hand. “Don’t forget the rules of this job. Please.”
My jaw snaps shut, my smile momentarily disappearing. But I still feel so good; Michael’s compliments have done wonders. “The first rule? Don’t talk about fight club?” Michael blinks at me, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “You know that movie, right?” I’m teasing him now and enjoying every second.
He nods. “Yes, I’m aware of that movie. I’ve even seen it a time or two. I watch movies, I read books, I follow the stock market.”
I smirk. “Nerd.”
He reaches for me, and I try to dance out of his reach, but he’s too fast. His lips are crushed against mine before I can draw another breath. His tongue battles its way past my lips and tangles with my own. My knees grow weak, and I’m glad for his strong arms holding me close to him. He’s as far from being a nerd as I am from being super model thin. Oh, does he know how to kiss.
He thrusts me away from him all too soon and rakes a hand through his hair. “The first rule is to not fall for your boss. And I’m your boss. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
I’m breathless but unwilling to let the point go. “I think you’re the one who forgot.”
He makes a low sound of derision. “Ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” My voice is a little higher than I’d like. “Ridiculous to fall for me?”
“No, ah, damn it, that’s not what I meant.” He takes a deep breath, and I wait nervously for what he’ll say next. “Ridiculous to fall for anyone at all. That’s what I meant.”
I blink at him stupidly. “Huh?” I try to digest what he just said. “You don’t believe in love?”
“I believe in sex.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No, it’s all there is.”
“Huh?” I say again like an idiot. “You don’t think love even exists? Wow, who hurt you bad enough to make you believe that?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Michael’s dark eyes turn fiery and not in a good way. Anger radiates from him, and I involuntarily take a step back. “I’m sorry.”
He just shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair again. “You should get dressed now. It’s time to go.”
How did things go from so good to so bad so fast? I want to fix this, but don’t know how. “I’m sorry, Michael, really. I—”
He stops me with a look, capturing me in his glare, but I see more than anger. I see confusion too. He stares at me for long minutes, and more than once, I think he’s going to say something… something I think I want to hear, but in the end, he just shakes his head. “I’ll call you,” he says and walks out.
CHAPTER 17
Michael
The ocean is my salvation. Some days I’d be lost without it. Many days I thought I was… lost. Some days I think I still am… lost. Fuck.
Even when it’s too cold to dive into, I’ll just sit on my deck, sometimes bundled in my winter coat. Listening to the crash of the waves soothes the angry beast inside me. I wasn’t always like this but…
No, these are thoughts I cannot allow. Will not allow.
It’s why I’m swimming frantically against the pull of the tide, my mind raging with thoughts I’d long buried. Damn them for resurfacing now. Damn them for their very existence.
Taking a deep breath, I dive under an approaching wave and come up on the other side shaking water from my face, my eyes. The ocean clears again, not a wave in sight on the horizon, and I return to my freestyle strokes. Faster and faster, harder and harder, trying to outstroke the swirling thoughts that threaten to take me under. I reach the jetty and turn, back and forth, forth and back, plowing through the ocean to the
point of exhaustion. That way, I can’t think. Can’t wallow in agony and self-pity. When will this fucking end?
No one else is here, in the ocean or on the beach. It’s my property. I own it. Anyone thinking this would be a great spot to set up chairs and umbrellas would be trespassing. That’s why I start with a jerk when I glance toward my home. There’s someone on the beach right now. Who the hell…? He’s just sitting in the sand. I’m too far away to make anything else out. I’m not in the mood for a confrontation, but my mood demands that I defend my territory. So alpha male. So stupid. Childish. Me.
Swimming until I can stand, I rake the fingers of both hands through my hair, keeping the dripping mess from my eyes. I walk the rest of the way in as fast as one can walk through water, and slowly, the person I’m heading toward takes shape.
A familiar shape.
He stands, and I see that it’s Jack. A wave of terror rips through me. What is he doing all the way out here? Hours from Brooklyn? I quickly scan my memory. No, we didn’t have plans of any sort. A fist tightens around my heart. Jack appeared out of nowhere that terrible day at the hospital… when he grabbed me and held me up when my knees gave way.
Why is he here now? Fuck! When will this end? I take a deep breath and then another and do my best to act like everything is alright as I jog up the beach toward him.
He smiles, and that loosens the fist a bit, but I’m still on edge. Will I ever again see him unexpectedly and not fear the worst?
“Jack.” I greet him and grab him in a half-nelson, like we’re children wrestling in a playground. “What brings you to the Hamptons? Got kicked out of Brooklyn?”
“Lemme go, jerk,” he says with a laugh. “Fuck, you’re getting me soaked.”
“Ass,” I counter. “Seriously, why are you here?”
I walk up to the steps leading to my house, and Jack follows.
“I ran into Claudette last night. She mentioned she was getting together with you this evening.”
I glance back at him. “Yeah, so?”
“So? C’mon, Mikey. Are you really gonna see her?”
