Sunkissed

by Traci Hohenstein

  Trista stared out at the rushing, white water that was the boat’s wake. She had no idea that Riker had money. Of course, it didn’t change the way she thought about him. Rich, poor, it didn’t matter. She was falling in love with him. “Let’s enjoy our time at the resort. We can talk about everything when we get home. I just want to not think for the whole day.”

  Riker kissed her on the cheek. “Okay. No more talk about work or money. Let’s just enjoy each other.”

  The dock master and an island hostess met them when they stepped off the boat and into paradise. The island hostess introduced herself as Mila, and she escorted them to their private bungalow. On the way, they passed the island’s restaurant, a tropical pool complete with waterfall, the health spa, a human-sized checkerboard game displayed in the sand, and the Zen garden, which had a koi pond, a bridge, and a gazebo.

  Trista immediately felt the stress of the last few weeks leave her body as they explored the private island. Finally they arrived at their own little thatched-roof bungalow. Walking inside, Trista took in the cozy living area decorated with a Tommy Bahama theme. A dozen roses, a bottle of chilled champagne, and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries greeted them on the coffee table. The bedroom held a king-sized bed with romantic netting draped overhead. Tropical-scented candles lit up the room. A bathroom with a claw-foot tub, two separate sinks, and an entrance to the outdoor shower completed the ensemble.

  “I think I’m in heaven,” Trista gushed to Riker as he held her hand tightly.

  The bellboy came inside and set their luggage down on the floor. “Dinner is served from six to eleven. The spa is open from nine to six. We have all kinds of water sports and fishing. Just see the guide at the kayak stand behind the pool. Anything else?” she asked.

  Riker handed a tip to Mila and the bellboy. “We’re all set. Thank you.” He closed the door behind Mila and took Trista in his arms. “Get naked,” he whispered, before kissing her.

  Trista could see his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. Just seeing him excited made her feel the same way. She eased her dress over her head then slipped off her panties, standing before him naked. He did the same, stepping out of his jeans and underwear and then unbuttoning his shirt. He took her hand and led her over to the couch, where he sat down, pulling her toward him.

  “I want you to ease yourself down on me. Show me how much you want me.”

  Trista licked her lips as she took his cock in her hand. She moved the head back and forth over her opening, teasing him mercilessly.

  “Good God! You’re so fucking wet. I want to taste your sweetness,” Riker growled.

  Leaning forward, Trista sank down hard on the entire length of his cock. She sat still for a moment, clenching her muscles.

  “Holy shit, babe.” He grabbed a handful of her hair, as she plunged her tongue in his mouth. She lifted her hips, sinking down on him again, harder and harder. His other hand slipped under her bottom, guiding her up and down as she continued to ride him.

  “I love the way you feel when you are inside of me.” Trista gripped his shoulder as she continued to grind against him.

  “I’m going to come,” Riker moaned as the sensation built for both of them.

  “Riker!” She called out his name as she reached a climax of epic proportions. She collapsed on top of him, feeling him shudder beneath her.

  “I’d say now is a good time to test out that outdoor shower,” he panted in her ear.

  ***

  The next morning, Trista woke up to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes to find that she was alone in the cavernous king bed. Her hand felt the warm indention in the covers where Riker had slept beside her all night. Wrapping her nude body in a luxurious robe that Little Palm Island had graciously provided, she wandered into the living area looking for Riker. The room was empty. She opened the front door of the cottage to find him on the front porch. Dressed in boxer shorts—and nothing else—he had an apple in one hand and a knife in the other. She watched as he cut off pieces of the apple and then threw them one by one into the bushes. The sun was just beginning to rise over the Atlantic Ocean.

  “What in the world are you doing?” she asked him. He smiled and whispered, “Shhhh. You have to come see this baby.”

  Suddenly interested in whatever had her boyfriend all excited about an apple, she walked quietly to his side. Miniature deer, three of them, were standing just below the porch, happily munching on the apple slices. The deer were so close she could’ve reached down and touched them.

  “Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?” Riker said quietly, throwing out another piece of apple. “The maintenance guy came by here earlier and told me that the Key deer swim over to the island in the middle of night to forage for food. Usually they swim back over to their side of the island by sunrise. As you can see, they’re a little shy.”

  Trista wrapped her arms around Riker’s waist as she watched him feed the deer. Yes, they were cute. And so was her boyfriend. “Who are you? And what did you do with my boyfriend?”

  “Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He tossed the last of the apple slices and then the core. The smallest of the three tucked the whole core into its mouth. With the roar of an incoming golf cart, the Key deer scattered into the bushes. One of the maintenance men waved as he drove by.

  “They sure do get started early in the morning,” Trista commented as she watched the golf cart zoom by.

  “I imagine it takes a lot of people to run this island.”

  “Hmmmm. I hate that we have to go back tomorrow.” Trista laid her head against his chest.

  “I have a special surprise for you.” He tucked a loose tendril of Trista’s hair behind her ear. “How does some time at the spa sound?”

  “Sounds about as delicious as you,” she teased, reaching up to nibble on his ear.

  “I booked you a half day starting at ten o’clock this morning.”

  “Ahhh. I see. Sending me to the spa is a ruse so you can spend the day fishing?”

  He laughed. “You’re on to me. Just a few hours of flats fishing. There’s a guide who the island recommends, and he guarantees a fun time.”

  “I can guarantee a fun time if you stay here with me.” She licked her lips and ran her hand down his chest.

  “Very tempting.” He gave her butt a hearty slap. “Seriously, I just realized something.”

  “What is that?”

  “We’ve never been on a proper date.”

  Trista thought about that for a moment. “I do have a bad habit of doing things back-ass backwards. Sex first, then dating.”

  “After your spa day, I’d like to take you out to dinner. Consider it our first date.”

  “Do I have to put out?”

  Riker laughed. “It’s optional.”

  “Go on, do your fishing thing. We can meet back at the cottage for a little rendezvous before dinner?”

  “Deal.”

  While Riker took off for his fishing trip, Trista had a few minutes to kill before her spa appointment. She snuck her cell phone out of her luggage and put it in her pocket. She had seen all the signs around the island regarding cell phones: a red circle with an angry red slash through it and NO CELL PHONES ALLOWED. There were also no TV’s in the bungalows or on the island, except for one flat-screen TV in the library that was used during football season. Apparently you couldn’t keep the men away from their sports. She understood the idea of “it’s an island and time for rest and relaxation…leave your worries and cell phones behind” but Trista had seen other people sneaking calls on their cell phones. She desperately needed to check her messages and see if Kate had called.

  Walking around the island, she found the Zen garden. It was used for meditations and massage therapy sessions, and was a great place for photographs. They even held small weddings there. If she ever got engaged again, this place, she thought, would be the perfect place for a wedding. Looking around, she saw the garden was empty, save for a few
egrets that were eyeing fish in the koi pond.

  She turned on her cell phone, not expecting to get much of a signal. To her surprise, she had full bars and a 4G connection. Quickly checking her voicemail, she had several urgent messages from Kate: call ASAP. And she had a message from Quinn, just seeing how things were going. Trista realized she hadn’t spoken to Quinn since she found out about Blake’s marriage—and her new replacement on the show. Waiting for Kate to pick up her call, she nervously paced back and forth.

  “Congratulations, kid. You got the job!” Kate greeted her after the fourth ring.

  “Are you serious?” Trista yelled out, scaring away the egrets.

  “They want you in New York on Friday to sign the contract. Rehearsals start a few weeks after that.”

  Trista started to say okay, then she realized that the big play for Blue Mountain Beach Children’s Theatre was on Saturday night, with a matinee on Sunday. She couldn’t miss that and let down all the children she had been working with for weeks.

  “I can’t make it Friday. I have obligations this weekend.”

  “Trista...” Katie started.

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t.” Trista dug her heel in the sand. “Why can’t they send me the contract to sign via email?”

  “They can, but the director has a cast meeting set up for Friday morning. I figured we could do everything then.”

  “How long do you think the meeting will last?”

  Katie sighed. “You never know. A couple hours maybe?”

  Trista mentally calculated flight times in her head. If she left tomorrow morning, she could fly out of Miami directly to New York. She would be there bright and early for the cast meetings. Sign the contract. And fly back to Blue Mountain Beach in time for dress rehearsal at six. At the very least, she would miss dress rehearsal, but she would be there for opening night and the matinee on Sunday. She could fly out again later that week to start apartment hunting so she would be settled by the time rehearsals started. She would tell Riker about the new job tonight at dinner. They could still see each on weekends. It could work.

  “Trista, are you still there? Is everything okay?”

  “I can be there by tomorrow night. I have to leave by Friday afternoon and come back for the weekend. Like I said, I have obligations this weekend that I can’t get out of.” Trista told Kate about the play and her role as director.

  “I understand. Just make it work.”

  “Okay. See ya tomorrow!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “You look beautiful,” Riker said as Trista walked out of the bathroom. After a half day of spa treatments, including a body scrub and heavenly massage with ginger and mango oils, she glowed from head to toe. She wore her favorite maxi dress, a simple, white chiffon dress with a plunging neckline and a glittering, sequin gold band around the waist. The dress reminded her of something a Greek goddess would wear. All she needed were the olive branches in her hair for decoration. She pulled her hair into a loose bun with several tendrils framing her heart shaped face. A swipe of lip gloss, a touch of blush, and a coat of mascara were her only makeup. Her tanned skin glistened from her favorite vanilla-scented body lotion.

  “Thank you,” Trista said twirling around for a dramatic effect. “A day at the spa was just what I needed.” She kissed him on the cheek. “You look ravishing too.”

  “I clean up pretty well.” Riker was wearing pressed khaki slacks and a black polo shirt. His dark hair hit just below the collar and was still wet from the shower. The crystal blue color of his eyes really stood out against his tan and dark shirt he wore. He was so handsome that it took Trista’s breath away. She gave him a hug, relishing the way he smelled of her favorite men’s cologne, Bulgari. “You better stop that or we won’t be on time for our dinner reservations,” he teased.

  She could feel him hardening against her thigh as she giggled and took a step back. “I think we should take our desserts back to the room after dinner.”

  “Great idea,” he agreed with a wink.

  Dinner was a five-course affair with crab-cake appetizers, coconut lobster bisque, grilled swordfish and mango salsa for her, coriander-crusted elk for him, and key lime pie and chocolate Kahlua cake to go. During their dinner, Trista wanted to bring up the play in New York but couldn’t bring herself to do it just yet. She settled on waiting until they went back to the cottage.

  They paid the check and headed to the cottage. “I’m going to need a workout after all this delicious food,” Trista said, opening the door. Riker had secretly arranged for turn-down service. The housekeeper had already come by and lit candles all through the cottage. Rose petals were scattered over the bed and around the floor. A bottle of champagne was chilling in the ice bucket.

  She gasped with appreciation. “Wow, I’m beginning to think I’m never going to leave this place.” She set down the Styrofoam containers that held their desserts and picked up the champagne. “Dom?”

  “I say we get started now with a little warm-up.” He took away the chilled bottle of Dom and pulled Trista into his arms, kissing her.

  Trista tried to pull away. It was now or never. She couldn’t keep putting off telling Riker about New York. “I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  He held her tightly with one arm and used his other hand to work the zipper on her dress. “No talking. It can wait.”

  “No, it can’t wait. I need to—”

  Riker covered her mouth with his. His tongue hungrily explored her mouth. While he kissed her, he carried her to the bed. Staring at her nude body in the candlelight, he whispered, “Wow. You look amazing.”

  Trista started to speak again, but realized it was useless. Once Riker got into sex mode, nothing could stray him. He stepped out of his clothes and got into bed with her. “Let’s make this a night to remember,” he said, running his hands down her body. Trista closed her eyes as his mouth sucked on her nipple and his fingers found her wet and ready for him. After two hours of delicious love- making, and three intense and memorable orgasms, she felt herself drift off.

  At midnight, Trista woke up thirsty. She looked over at Riker, who was softly snoring, his sexy, nude body half-covered with a tangled sheet. She tiptoed into the bathroom and filled a glass with tap water. Her throat was parched; she greedily drank the water in one long gulp. Returning to the bedroom, she found Riker awake, sitting up in bed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Just thirsty. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He patted the bed, and she sat down next him. Stroking her hair, he said, “I can tell when you’ve got something going on in that pretty head of yours. What’s up?”

  “We do need to talk.” Trista pulled the covers over her body.

  “Okay.” He sat up straighter. “If this is about your sister. I’d like to talk to her—”

  She interrupted him. “It’s not about that. I am moving to New York.”

  “What? When?”

  Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I got a job offer to star in a leading role for Love Potion #9. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime. The play starts rehearsals soon, and then we’re slated to do a six-month run on Broadway.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “Next week.”

  “How… when did all this happen?”

  Trista told him about the call from her agent. The quick trip to New York to read for the director. And the call she’d just received from her agent telling her the good news.

  “So you’ve known all this time that there could be a possibility of a job waiting for you in New York? While we were in Key West and I was making plans for us to move here?”

  “Wait a minute. I never agreed to a move to Key West. I only said that I would accompany you to take a look at the bar.”

  “Yeah, well you never said anything about New York.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was even going to happen until today. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

&nbs
p; “So you’re taking the job?” Riker studied her face.

  She nodded slowly.

  “I guess there’s nothing else to talk about then.” He jumped off the bed and pulled his suitcase open. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt then started to throw the clothes he’d worn to dinner in the bag.

  Trista tried to touch him on the arm, but he pulled away from her. She said, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. We can still see each other.”

  “When?”

  She started to say, “On the weekends,” but she realized that this job would be a full-time commitment. Daily rehearsals with evening performances. Weekends were not an option. This would be a six- or seven-day-a-week job with little time off until the play closed or she moved on to something else.

  “You knew that I was looking for other work. This situation has always been temporary.”

  “Which situation? You and I?”

  “I meant me living in Florida. It was never a permanent thing.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “You never asked.”

  Riker slammed his suitcase shut. “Then I guess there is nothing left to talk about. It seems that you’ve made up your mind.”

  Trista watched as Riker grabbed his toiletry bag and headed for the bathroom. “Can you please quit packing and sit down and talk to me?”

  Riker kept walking to the bathroom. “There is nothing left to say. It sounds like you’ve made up your mind. Commuting to and from New York is out of the question.” He turned when he got to the door and stared at her. “It’s over Trista.” He slammed the bathroom door shut.

  Trista sat on the couch, stunned. This was her career. Her life. Why she should give up her dreams?

  ***

  The next morning Trista woke up before sunrise. Riker was still asleep. After their argument, he spent the next two hours on the front deck drinking beer. She pretended like she was asleep when he came back inside, drunk and stumbling into furniture. She was already packed and ready to go. She had arranged for a private car to drive her to the Miami airport. The chauffeured ride had cost her a pretty penny, but it was worth it. The last thing she wanted to do was ask Riker to drive her. She knew that his plane didn’t leave until three that afternoon. She hastily wrote him a note on the Little Palm Island stationery.