Villa Blue

by Isla Dean

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. And I guess I’m asking myself that question too.”

  She maneuvered onto her side, propped up to face him.

  He hadn’t considered those questions, maybe ever. He’d only ever been one to go, to get out, to get away. He was the oldest brother and the most adventurous, maybe because he’d also been the one most likely to bear the brunt of their father’s tirades. “I’m kind of the nomad of the family.”

  She yawned, smiled sleepily. “We’ve both gone rogue from our families.”

  He looked over to her, watched her eyes struggle to stay open, then pulled her close. Her body tucked perfectly into his, like two pieces of a complicated puzzle coming together. “I guess we have.”

  One hand around a woman who had somehow managed to inspire questions he’d never thought to ask or answer, and one hand behind his head as he watched occasional stars shoot through the sky, Aiden James wondered what the hell had changed.

  Something had, he thought, as his eyes closed to the world and he fell into sleep.

  Just as dawn cracked through the chilled darkness with a quiet call to awaken, Aiden cupped Ivy’s face that was inches from his. He’d watched her sleep for those few moments, then watched her stir and slowly slide her eyes open.

  And when her ripe, unpainted mouth curved into a sleepy smile, his body responded.

  “Morning,” she said, her voice as gentle as the wisps of clouds that gathered above them.

  “Morning.”

  His lips met hers, sampling, teasing. And when her mouth opened, his body tightened and he reached his strong arms around her, scooted her closer.

  Their movements mingled, mouths touching simply, sweetly, then as if overcome by curiosity, by desire, they moved beyond what was simple into straight need for the other.

  Beneath the blanket that kept their warmth between them, he reached down and felt his way up her body, lifting her shirt, unhooking her bra, and finally, finally feeling her skin naked against his.

  Cool air, brought on by the morning that hinted around them, caressed their faces as their heated bodies touched. Her mouth was supple, silky, and when he reached down to tug off her pants, to reach her, he heard her whispered breath utter his name.

  She reached down for him, feeling her way along his stomach, around the waistband of his jeans. Heat rose and his muscles hardened as her fingers worked to unfasten buttons and push away material until clothes were removed and only the softness of woman and blanket remained.

  Her hands, her capable hands, skimmed along his body and when he saw a spark in her eye, that spark of wanting, he decided that instead of devouring her, instead of bodies pulling and pushing one another in a race forward, he would take his time with her. He would do as he desired, feeling his way around her body and finding what delighted her, what excited her.

  He rolled her onto her back and started with her alluring face, trailing a thumb along her jaw line, then over her lips where he watched intently as they parted, imagining them on his skin. A rush hammered through him, storming his system.

  He dipped down further to her neck, ordering himself to go slow, sampling with his lips along the way. He traced the soft lines that led to the swell of her firm breasts, hearing her breath catch as he paused to play with her nipples. He lingered, listening to her subtle sounds of pleasure.

  Aiden kept going, trailing down between her breasts, over her belly button, then down lower until he reached the heat that he craved. Her hands pulled through his hair, gripping, as he laid gentle kisses, surrounding, teasing, then plundering and playing with mouth and tongue.

  She arched and he heard his name again—gently, desperately—as he felt her body shudder, tense, then release on a gasp for air, for more.

  Unable to wait, to wonder any longer, he rose to face her then drove into the liquid heat. She’d gone molten beneath him but had come alive again in a combustion of smooth, silky flames. He watched the way light and pleasure, torment and demand played on her face, in her eyes.

  Her legs wrapped around him, drawing him closer, and he tossed off the blanket—too damn hot—and their sweaty bodies slid together. Senses collided—cool air, the velvety warmth of her surrounding him—as her hips raced with his.

  In a rush that pounded through him, he felt her once again soar over the edge with a shudder and gasp, and he followed, emptying into the heat and flying right along with her.

  “Water,” she breathed out.

  “Champagne’s all we got.” He handed her the bottle and with eyes unable to focus yet, he watched the blur of her maneuver to sit up and drink from it.

  “I think I just swallowed a bug that slept in our champagne.”

  “Protein.” He took the bottle she offered and drank generously.

  He set it aside and lay back under the drifting clouds. She followed suit and, next to each other, naked body to naked body, they watched the sky turn purple then pink, the golden sun sneaking above the horizon, sending soft splashes of color onto all it touched.

  She really was swimming, she thought. Swimming like a mermaid through a sea of color. She felt weightless and more open than she’d ever felt. “Two. Two orgasms. That’s what I had.” Her relaxed laugh drifted with the faint sound of waves that crashed below. “I can’t talk yet.”

  “We’ll go for that five you mentioned next time.” He’d finally begun to focus and he slid a look toward her, finagled limbs and blanket to keep her close and warm.

  “I’ve never even had two before.”

  “You’re kidding,”

  “Not kidding. That was… Aiden James, you’ve got moves.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “Feel good?”

  “Feel great. Amazing. I’ve never had sex outside before either.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re kidding.”

  She propped up on her elbow, looked at his face, and felt twinges of satisfaction that he’d just been inside of her. The idea of it vibrated through her already buzzing body. “Never before.”

  “Ivy Van Noten, you’ve got some living to do.”

  Her sparkling blue eyes turned sultry. “How many more days are you here?”

  He gave her a little tug so she fell against him.

  Smiling, she kissed his mouth, then kissed it again, then gasped as she pushed back. “Oh my God, I almost forgot. I have to get paintings to the gallery this morning. Oh my God.”

  Ivy pushed to standing with a look of pure panic on her face. “I can’t believe this. I have to go. I have to… I have to make sure the frames all look okay, that the matting is all still intact. Oh God.” Her fingers pressed against her eyes as her mind spun, attempting to gain traction.

  Aiden rose, wrapped the top blanket around her body, though he was sad to cover it, as the view of her was infinitely more fun to look at than the view of the harbor. “I’ll help. It’ll be fine.”

  He tugged on his jeans, leaving the top button undone, then grabbed the heap of her clothes.

  “I can’t ask you to help, Aiden.” She began walking toward her studio, her mind already thrusting ahead.

  “You don’t have to ask. And it’s done. Tell me what you need.”

  They scurried around, her mind ablaze with details. Wrap frames in blankets—thankfully they had a couple of extra blankets at the ready—grab stash of supplies including a hammer, nails, tape measure, a level, and extra wire just in case.

  When she realized she hadn’t completely dressed, only made it as far as her pants and bra, she slipped on her shirt that’d been cast aside, and swirled her hair into its usual topknot to get it off her face.

  He retrieved a shirt from his room in the villa then drove the golf cart down the scraggly trail to her studio. Together they loaded her supply bag and four paintings.

  She crouched onto the seat since the frames wrapped in blankets were propped on the floorboard. “Whatever you do, drive really slowly and don’t hit any bumps if you can help it. I really hate
being late. It’s unprofessional and I hate that.”

  Before pulling away, he glanced over at her. “We’re not going to be late. We’ll be exactly on time. Breathe.”

  “I’ll breathe once I hang these, then paint—God—six more paintings in the next two weeks, then that will make fifteen.” She massaged her temples as she spoke. “I really should’ve been done with those paintings by now.”

  “Five orgasms and fifteen paintings. At least we have goals,” he told her as they started down hill.

  She didn’t want to chuckle but she couldn’t help it. “Fifteen orgasms and five paintings might be an easier goal to achieve.”

  At his pained face she laughed again, feeling the knots inside of her loosen. “I’m suddenly feeling inspired,” she said with a conspirators sparkle in her eyes.

  Chapter Nine

  Klem was there, waiting in the gallery as he said he would, wearing pressed salmon colored pants, a navy blue polo shirt, and a belt that featured a row of hand-stitched sand crabs.

  His head tilted to the side as he watched Aiden and Ivy carry in the art she’d promised.

  “Sorry we’re late, Klem.” Ivy lugged in the largest of the paintings, having elbowed Aiden aside when he’d tried to take it from her.

  “You’re not late, hun. But you are wearing yesterday’s clothes and you have some sort of… What is that? A weed? You have a weed in your hair, honey.”

  “I’m an artist. I do weird things like decorate my hair with weeds,” she said offhandedly as she slipped outside then carried in the next painting.

  Aiden held the door open then carted in the last two pieces.

  “You’re the most normal artist I know. And the luckiest. He’s sexy,” Klem whispered loudly, proud to be in what he considered the know.

  She glanced around at the space, the surrounding art, figuring out where she wanted each of the pieces.

  “So how was it?”

  “How was what?”

  “Sex with Mister Sexy Man.”

  She spared Klem a quick fleck of her attention. “You insulted me by calling me normal. Normal is boring. No details for you.”

  Immune to the rebuff, Klem didn’t budge from his lean on the front counter—it was too entertaining to watch Aiden muscle paintings to where Ivy pointed, then bend down, pick them up, and move them again. This was better than that extra hour of sleep he could’ve had, he decided. Way better.

  “What do you think of this arrangement? I think if we put this one here on that wall, it’s a good opener. It has striking colors, cliffs. Dramatic so it grabs your eye as you’re walking by outside. What do you think?” Ivy asked aloud, primarily talking to herself, though Aiden stood next to her, and Klem, happy to be near Aiden, joined.

  “Or,” she continued, brow tensed as she studied the art, the walls, the space on a whole. “We could put the softer scene, this one with the wildflowers from early spring, over here. I guess this might be more inviting for people. What do you think?” she asked again.

  “How about this one? I like the waterfall and all that green around it. A lot of life to it. Is that somewhere here on the island?”

  She nodded without looking at Aiden, her mind on its own track. “West side of the island, yeah,” she mumbled. “Okay, I like your idea, maybe we put that one up front. It has a good island vacation kind of feel to it. Klem?”

  “Aiden’s not only mouth-watering, but he’s smart as well.”

  “Still straight,” Aiden told him with a friendly smirk.

  Klem followed with a quick, “Damn,” then strode away to nab coffee from the back room.

  “All right, I like that. Good idea. Let’s hang the waterfall first, then Sailboats at Sunrise, then on that wall over there…” She gestured, pointing through the air. “We’ll put the wildflowers then the bold cliffs,” she finished then thought about it.

  “No, that’s wrong. Waterfall then wildflowers on these two walls, then…” She trailed off even though her hands still made the motion she was meaning.

  “Sailboats then cliffs?” Aiden finished.

  “Yeah, that’s good.” She sucked in an inhale then let it out with a readying push. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  After hanging all four of the paintings, she stood back and studied them one last time before Klem flipped the sign around for opening time.

  “Look okay?” she asked the two men who stood behind her. Her mind had honed into that place of productivity and creativity. Hanging her art, her work, made her feel rooted, especially after spending the early morning soaring with a man arguably still considered a stranger.

  Not wanting to focus on Aiden—she could do that later—she answered herself as she hadn’t heard either of the men’s responses. “Yes, I like it. Just like this.”

  Ivy reached into her supply bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s a price sheet I worked up.” She handed it to Klem. “Let me know if you need anything else and thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’m not sure if I say it enough, but I truly am grateful that you guys feature my art here. You’ve been so good to me.” Her eyes swam with soft sentimentality.

  “You going to cry, honey?” Klem asked.

  “I’m just appreciative. And tired.”

  “Sex will do that.”

  “Jesus, Klem.”

  “Call it like I see it. Not that I saw it but—”

  “Bye, Klem!” Ivy interrupted before he could say anymore, kissed his cheek.

  “See you, man,” Aiden added then held the door for Ivy to walk through.

  Klem fanned himself. “Damn that’s one sexy beast.” Then he lowered his voice and set his face in what he considered a cool-guy look, mimicking Aiden. “See you, man.”

  “Breakfast?”

  Ivy frowned at Aiden as she climbed into the golf cart. “Did you say something? Sorry, I was in a zone.”

  “I can see that. That’s not our cart.”

  She glanced around, confused, then got out. “Guess I really was in a zone.”

  “What were you thinking about?” He reached for her hand, figuring he wouldn’t wait for a response on breakfast, and simply walked her toward the rich scents of morning food that rode alongside the swirls of sea air.

  “Oh, I was in my imagination. I was thinking about the waterfall. I was actually thinking, well, seeing I guess, how I’d do the next painting there. I think I’ll tape off the water area of the painting then paint around it, so then the water will be clean white after taking the tape off. Kind of a crisp, refreshing feeling. Then the trees crowding in around it... Wait, where are we going?”

  “Breakfast,” he told her as they continued down the promenade. “What will you do with the trees?” he asked before she could think too much about it and decide she wanted to get back to work before eating.

  He was starting to understand her, he thought. Pleased with the idea, he spotted the restaurant where the smells of bacon and hash browns originated, and kept ahold of her hand, clasping her fingers with his.

  “This place has great omelets. You should eat here, but I really need to get to work.”

  He gave himself points for having anticipated her.

  Aiden stopped outside the restaurant, faced her. “Let’s eat breakfast then we’ll go back to the villa, grab bathing suits, then you take the day off and we’ll head to the waterfall together.”

  “No, definitely not. Not only do I need to make sure I work for at least eight hours today, I have to figure out what to do about my mother and sister being here. I don’t have time.”

  He watched her begin to fidget, knowing he had her right where he wanted her. “Then at least have breakfast while you figure out what to do with your day. That way you won’t have to stop later to eat.”

  “Hmm. That’s actually a good idea. Okay, I can’t take the day off, but I guess I can do breakfast.” She walked in through the door he held open then pivoted, poked a finger in his chest. “Hey, wait. You tricked me.”

  He w
inked at her and strode toward the hostess stand.

  “You’re a tricky one.” Ivy told him as they slid into a booth that overlooked the harbor. “Distract me with a big ticket item then easily sell the little item. You’re a sneaky businessman, Aiden James.”

  “I’m a man who wants some breakfast. And coffee.”

  “Oh God, coffee, yes.”

  The hostess overheard and brought over two fat white mugs filled with coffee. “Your waitress will be right here.”

  “Thank you,” she said to the girl then looked to Aiden. “And thank you for this morning. I couldn’t have done it without you. Well, I could have, but it would’ve been a lot harder, taken a lot longer by myself.”

  He drank from his coffee then leaned back in the booth, taking in the view of the woman and the water behind her. “You’re welcome. Sex is more fun than masturbating.”

  Closing her eyes, she held in the hot gulp of coffee, using great restraint to swallow and prevent it from spraying out of her mouth.

  “You all right there?” he asked playfully.

  Finally able to laugh without spitting out her coffee, she opened her eyes. “You’re right about that. Usually. And I was talking about your help at the gallery—getting the paintings together, getting them hung. That was really kind of you.”

  “Glad I was here to help.” He frowned as he said it and glanced up to see her looking out to the boats that swayed with the waves. She would’ve told him his face had changed again because this time he felt it. He was glad he was there to help, but something about the statement sounded so temporary.

  He liked temporary, fleeting fun, spontaneous adventures that featured no ties to anyone, anywhere. He liked going places, doing things, meeting people without being held to one location. He’d built his life around his desire for freedom.

  Reminding himself of that felt hollow somehow. Empty. What exactly did he want to be free of?

  “What can I get you two kids?” the waitress with curly gray hair, purple eye shadow, and a series of miniature bells around her wrist asked.