Paradise Lust
Page 4
He locked eyes with her again. A wide grin became a sweet, almost serious smile as he lifted himself off of her. He tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and pulled them off. “Prove it,” he said, the sly grin reappearing.
Laughing, moved by an impulse of lust, yes, but also something else—cuteness? Damn this guy was just so adorable—Adele reached up to pull him back down.
All playfulness disappeared when she felt his body meet hers. There was now nothing between her and that hard swell she’d felt behind his shorts, and now she could feel him pulsing between her thighs. She wrapped both legs around him this time, and moved her lips away from his, kissing his cheek, the line of his jawbone, his neck. His hand navigated its way over the hollow of her hipbone and up her side, caressing her breast, giving her shoulder a deep squeeze, tiptoeing across her collarbone, massaging her neck, cupping her head. The other hand played gently with her nipple.
And then it was his turn to stop. Both hands pressed flat down onto the couch as he pushed himself off of her. “This is—Adele,” he began.
“Good job, you got my name,” she responded, her voice full of humor, though she was panicking inside. Was he about to end this? She needed him, couldn’t leave without having him.
“No,” he said, laughing, shaking his head, “Of course I know your name is Adele. What I’m trying to say, is that this is, maybe, I don’t know. Maybe this is too much too soon? I barely know you.”
“You live in Bali on a resort where they hold yoga trainings full of attractive young women like three times a year,” Adele retorted, trying to keep her voice playful. “I doubt knowing somebody well is a pre-requisite to anything.”
Danny blushed and looked away, then looked back at her. She was shaking inside as she waited for his response. From the way his face flushed she knew her allegation had some truth. She must be just another stupid girl to him—not that it mattered, this was a one-night stand, right? But it did matter, for some reason. His eyes became softer, more solemn.
“No,” he said. “You’re right. But everyone else felt like…like feathers floating in the wind. You don’t. You feel…real. I don’t know if I have a better explanation than that. I don’t know.”
She let her wry smile fade, and looked back up at him. “No,” she said softly. “I think I know what you mean.” They looked at each other for a moment, and she could see the question in his eyes. “It’s okay.”
With that, she reached up and pulled him down to her, and this time there was no hesitation from either of them. His hips pressed down against hers, his hands moved up her waist and onto her breasts, while she ran one hand through his salt-textured hair, and moved the other down his back to the perfect curve of his ass. She let out a small sigh of pleasure as he pushed himself against her.
She tugged lightly on his earlobe, then moved her mouth from his lips to his ear, licking the ridges and hollows as he moaned in pleasure.
“Real doesn’t have to mean scary,” she whispered.
He kissed her passionately in response, and his hand moved between her legs. She knew that he’d understood what her words meant, even if she hadn’t fully. She moved her hand down to meet his, and interlaced her fingers with his, moving with his hand. In a moment, she was helping him guide himself inside her.
In unison, they both sighed as he entered her. He was big, big enough that she wasn’t going for any sort of dramatic effect when she said, “Go slow.”
He looked at her, serious, “You okay?”
“Stop it,” she laughed. “No more serious,” and used her legs to bring him deeper inside her. They both moaned, and their lips found each other again. She thrust her tongue deep inside his mouth as he pressed himself fully inside of her. Their moans were muffled against one another’s mouths, their hips working against each other with more and more speed.
“My God,” the word erupted from his mouth as he pulled away for a moment, then pressed his lips against hers again.
She could feel the warmth of orgasm spreading from her lower abdomen, clouding her thoughts. She pressed her hips up higher, harder, needing more. The only word in her mind was more, more, more. She almost pulled her face away in order to say the word, but before she could she felt it, radiating from deep inside her, the throbbing, pulsing glow of her climax. She pulled her mouth away from his and buried her face in his neck.
“My God,” she echoed his words.
“Oh,” was all he said in response.
Her legs tightened around the backs of his thighs as his arms clutched her shoulders, and, pressing together in one hard, final, thrust, they both came. The sweeping wave of orgasm pulsed through her, sending warmth all the way through her toes.
After the vibrations had moved through their bodies, they stayed locked in their tight, tangled embrace, panting. Finally, after five minutes or maybe more, she loosened her grip, and so did he, and they fell against each other, lazy and lax on the couch.
They only breathed. The rain still fell outside, though more slowly. The waves rolled in, more quickly. Their breath rose and fell, quickly at first and then slowly. Finally, Danny lifted himself up and looked down at Adele.
“Well,” he said, the corners of his mouth creeping up into a smile.
“Well,” she said.
And just like that, all of the racing thoughts that she’d been working to keep at bay all day came rushing into her head. What was she doing? Both here with this guy, and—while we’re at it—in life in general? What the hell was she doing having impulse sex with some surfer bro when she was on a yoga retreat trying to figure out her life direction, trying to get some clarity on what she would do with her life now that everything she’d planned on had crumbled around her? Had she just ruined her entire experience by introducing sex into it? How could she figure out how to put back together her professional life when her mind was clouded with…with him?
“Hey,” she said, and gently pressed his chest away from her. He sat up, letting her escape from under him. She grabbed the towel and pressed it again to her chest, suddenly self-conscious in her nakedness. “Hey, I’m—I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I should go, I’ve gotta be up super early for asana.” She looked at him apologetically.
“No, no, totally,” he said. She couldn’t read his face because he immediately stood up and walked toward the clothing he’d dropped on the floor. She had to stifle a groan of misery at the perfection of his ass as he walked away. “Here, wear these home. I hung your wet clothes up to dry and I can give them to you, you know, whenever.”
He handed the small pile of clothing to her, and though she didn’t look up, she could tell he was trying to read her face, seeking her eyes.
“Great, thank you,” she said, and scrambled into the clothes. She somehow felt even more exposed than she had been a moment ago, despite the fact that she’d been naked then.
“Thank you,” she said again, now fully dressed, letting her eyes meet his for a moment. His face was puzzled, curious, the kindness and openness still there. “This was a good shelter from the rain,” was what came out of her mouth.
“Anytime,” he said.
And then she grabbed her yoga mat, pulled open the big sliding double doors, and strode across the porch and onto the grass. The rain had stopped.
Chapter 6
After that horrible afternoon with Kelly in the GreenGrub conference room, it hadn’t taken long for Adele to crumble. As someone who had always prided herself on her emotional resiliency, who rarely cried and always focused her attention on finding a solution rather than wallowing in pain, this crumbling surprised her. But in some ways, it made sense: she’d kept a stiff upper lip (and stiff power suits, stiff shoulders, stiff everything) during her years in corporate law. She’d done the things she was supposed to do, had paid off her law school debt and made her billable hours (90 hours a week? No problem!), and had been about as tightly wound as one of Val’s perfectly rolled yoga mats. GreenGrub had been the thing that had reignited the soul, the pas
sion, the vulnerability that she’d pushed deep down sometime in high school.
So when GreenGrub collapsed, she was left not only without a job, but also lacking the emotional defenses she’d spent over a decade cultivating.
Within a few weeks the offices were shuttered, and Kelly had returned to Ireland to spend an indefinite amount of time with his extended family. Adele had quickly fallen into a daily ritual almost indulgent in its dreariness—she would wake up sometime before 7, her veins coursing with stress, then frustrated anger, then deep sadness as she lay awake in bed, eyes squinched shut, half trying to fall back asleep and finally giving up at around 10. Then she would get up, put on her yoga clothes, stare at her yoga mat, and then grab her laptop and bring it over to the couch, where she’d remain for most of the day. She mostly read business and tech articles about the startup scene, learning about more companies like Organify, as well as a whole slew of just plain dumb apps and mobile games making billions and billions of dollars, and would become increasingly depressed with each one. She thought about texting Jeremy but, even in her compromised emotional state, knew it was a bad idea. He’d thought she’d gone insane when she left corporate litigation and ended their relationship; this would only support his point. The only things that broke up her day were opening the door for the delivery guy and watching episodes of Scandal.
After four or five days, she began to tire of the articles (or, more truthfully, had quite literally run out of them), and started to peruse other corners of the Internet. While on the website of a nearby yoga studio, looking at the schedule for a class that she had no real intention of attending, she noticed a brightly colored box advertising “Newly Opened Spots in Bali Yoga Teacher Training Program! Limited Availability!” Behind the text was an image of a golden sandy beach leading to a cerulean sea.
She clicked.
It made no sense to go. It was a six-week course (Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do), it would cost thousands of dollars (I do still have some leftover funds from my corporate days), not to mention the fact that she wasn’t really even all that good at yoga (I mean, I guess it’s time to develop some new skills). It would be insane to do this.
Two weeks later, Adele was on a flight to Bali.
Danny had gone to bed almost immediately after Adele left. The fact that he drifted off to sleep the moment his head touched the pillow testified not to his peaceful inner state, but to a rare skill he’d developed. In truth, Adele’s abrupt departure had been jarring, if not painful. But Danny’s life had been filled with enough anxiety, upset, and disappointment that at a certain point his body had adapted to the emotional pain, and he’d learned to simply shut off his brain when he wanted to sleep. It was a unique ability, and one he was grateful for, because Lord knows he had enough things to keep him up all night if he wanted to indulge them. But tossing and turning in bed never solved anything. Plus, early to bed meant early to rise, and there looked to be some good swells in the early morning hours.
Indeed, the next morning Danny woke at the first hint of dawn’s light, the salty, rain-cleaned air already humid with the coming day’s heat. He pulled back the sheet and stood up, still naked from his encounter with Adele, and stretched hugely, taking in the new day. That was another helpful technique he’d learned—start each day with a big stretch and a bigger smile. The lingering scent of Adele’s cocoa butter lotion on his skin caused a brief pang in his chest, but he stretched deeper, smiled harder, and it passed.
He pulled on some swim trunks, rubbed sunscreen over his stomach and chest, and smeared balm over his sun-pouted lips. Grabbing the surfboard that stood by the door to his porch, which still stood open (another pang), he headed down to the beach. Diving into the waves, the thoughts melted away once more, as in sleep, and he surfed away the early morning, riding the waves in the blissful Zen of nothingness.
Hours later, as the heat of the day began to truly rise and the rest of the world was beginning to wake, he emerged from the waves. Drops of seawater dappled his tanned shoulders and chest as he splashed through the shin-height water, his board tucked under one arm.
He was starving. Glancing up at the sun, he began calculating what time it must be. Past nine, at least, which means the kitchen would be open. Bringing his eyes back down to earth and happily fantasizing about fried eggs and fresh mango, he saw her.
She was barely visible, perched inside a little hollow in the rocky cliff at the edge of the beach, and yet his eyes went straight to her. Leaning against one side of the tiny cave, she had what looked like a large book propped up on her bent legs, and seemed to be intently focused. One hand absently twirled a lock of hair as she read. She was wearing a bright white sundress that had tumbled down her thighs to the crease of her hip because of how she sat.
As Danny reached the water’s end and began walking on dry sand, Adele’s head suddenly snapped in his direction. Though she was still far enough away that he couldn’t make out the details of her face, he saw her body stiffen. She made a few awkward adjustments to her position and then turned her head back to her book.
Always one to try to smooth over awkwardness rather than avoid it—another little skill he’d picked up—Danny continued to stride toward her. He forced a big grin across his face and walked confidently. This was no big deal. This was a cute girl he’d slept with the night before, and that was it. He was just walking over to say hello, because why wouldn’t he? It was sex, nothing more, and they were both adults.
“Hey there,” he called out as he came within earshot of her cave. He waved with his free hand and was displeased to feel his stomach dropping out from under him as she turned her face toward him again. She had somehow gotten more beautiful overnight. He smiled wider and added some extra swagger to his step.
“Hi,” she said, her voice friendly but guarded. She straightened out her legs in front of her and smoothed her dress back down over her thighs. Danny suppressed the urge to smirk at her sudden modesty.
“I see you’ve upgraded from your cabin?” he said, gesturing toward the rock hollow in which she sat.
She looked around her little cave, and he was happy to see her lips turn up in a smile that seemed genuine. “Yup,” she said. “I said give me the Luxury Jagged Rock Suite or I’m walking.”
“A woman who knows what she wants. I like it,” he said, realizing after the fact the connotation that could have. They both looked down for a moment.
“How’s the surf?” She asked.
“Really good today. Perfect, actually. I don’t even know how long I was out there. What time is it?”
“Almost 9:30,” she said. “I need to head back to the studio soon for class. Just doing a little last-minute studying now actually. We’re giving little mini presentation things about the eight limbs of yoga.” Her hands moved wildly as she spoke, gesturing toward the barely visibly yoga hut, then her asana manual, and Danny noticed that her words came quickly and her voice betrayed an edgy tremor.
“You nervous?” He asked, belatedly aware once again of the connotations the words could carry.
“For the presentation? No. Not really. I’ve always been pretty good at school. Probably the main reason I went to law school, to be honest.”
“Interesting,” he said. A few silent moments passed. “So, do you think you’ll teach? When you get back to the States?”
“Not sure,” she said. “I never really envisioned myself as a yoga teacher. But, I mean, I never really envisioned myself living in a hut on a remote beach in Bali either.”
They both laughed, though it really wasn’t very funny, and were happy at the tension laughing seemed to dispel.
“What do you do, by the way?” Adele asked, her voice returning to its normal cadence, her posture relaxing. “I mean, you’ve gotta support this surfer bro life somehow, right?”
She smiled at him, her face open and curious, but Danny felt his stomach tighten. Work. He didn’t want to talk about his work. Usually he tried to avoid having this
question come up at all, as he still hadn’t found a good way to answer it without inviting more inquiry.
“I’m a consultant,” he said vaguely, trying to make his voice off-handed and casual, hoping to convey that it was a boring topic.
“Oh, interesting,” she said, and the knot in Danny’s stomach grew harder. “Here in Indonesia? Or back in the U.S.?”
“Kind of everywhere, mostly in the U.S., but I can do it all remotely, so I decided to live here. I have an apartment in south Bali—Seminyak—and come over to these parts now and then to get some better surf. Just need Wifi, y’know, to do work. Digital age and all,” he said, hearing himself ramble. Now it was his turn to speak quickly and avoid eye contact. It’s not that he had anything to hide, he just wasn’t very proud of the truth. He just wanted to talk about something else. “It’s pretty boring stuff, I mainly do it so I can buy shiny new toys,” he said, gesturing toward his surfboard, hoping to change the course of the conversation.
But Adele’s eyes didn’t follow his gesture, stayed trained on his instead. “Do you consult on anything in particular?”
“Nah,” he said. “No specialty.” He glanced up the beach, and was deeply relieved to see that people were migrating toward the yoga hut. “Hey, looks like people are heading to your class. Do you need to get up there?”
She peeked out of her cave and craned her neck to see. “Oh shit,” she said. “Yeah, I gotta run.”
She closed her asana manual and hopped out of the little cave and onto the sand, landing directly in front of Danny. She looked up at him and laid a hand lightly on his forearm. He felt the touch reverberate all through his body.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, her voice lower and softer than before.
“Yeah,” Danny said dumbly, unable to think for a moment.
Her hand dropped, and then she was gone jogging lightly down the beach away from him. He was happy to feel all real thought melt away at the sight of her gorgeous ass lightly bouncing with each stride.