She grins, and I can tell from her eyes that she can read my thoughts, so she does as I ask and rolls onto her stomach, leaning her head to one side.
Without taking my eyes from her, I get up, straddle my legs either side of her sunbed and sit myself lightly on the cheeks of her ass. Brushing her hair from her neck, I pour and rub the cool white lotion onto her shoulders, working my way up to her hairline, I let my fingers wander, and as I begin caressing her neck, I push my hands under her tankini, feeling my way down her back.
“That feels so good,” she groans.
I blow out and close my eyes. She’s telling me! It’s a good job I’m not a Speedo man and these shorts are baggy. I clench my thighs; wriggling beneath me, she tickles my balls.
“Slap me if I start to twitch,” she titters.
I lift my hand slightly and smack her ass, watching as her cheeks bounce.
“Oi, don’t get too comfy. I’m not having a repeat of breakfast, so we won’t be staying here long.”
She attempts to look round at me, but I take her hair between my fingers and lower her head back onto the sunbed. Leaning over, I place a soft kiss on her cheek.
“You’re going to love what I’ve got in store for you,” I whisper into her ear. “As we speak Chase is driving over to Zeus, our sister hotel. He’s gone there specifically to pick up the speedboat.” I glance at my watch. “He should be back in the next couple of hours. The restaurant’s opening specially. We’ll have an early lunch and then I’m going to take you to my own private island, where we’ll spend the remainder of the day on a private beach.”
We reach shallow water. Steering, Chase swings the boat round in a wide figure of eight and turns off the engine, allowing us to drift closer to the shore.
“Have fun,” he says with a cheeky grin as he reties his white bandanna.
I slip off the boat into the warm turquoise ocean, small waves lapping against my knees. Looking into Darcy’s eyes, I reach up to take her hand. She edges towards me, lifts her leg and lowers herself over the side. As I support her weight she tilts herself forwards, wrapping her arms around my neck. I slip one hand around her back and the other beneath her thighs, cradling her. Her toes break the water’s surface, leaving a line of ripples as I wade towards the beach.
“And what am I meant to do?” Chase shouts after us.
“I don’t care!” I shout back. “Drop the towels and cool box off, then make yourself scarce. I don’t want to see you back here till after sunset.”
I lower Darcy’s feet onto the powdery white sand.
“And here,” I say, looking around, “there will be no interruptions.”
She tilts her head, looking up under her lashes. I grab her arms, pulling her down onto the sand.
Half an hour must pass as we sit on the shoreline. I turn and am met with her profile. I lean over and slide my fingers through the sand to meet hers, but she doesn’t link them with mine; instead, her nails brush back and forth over my arm in time with the waves.
“Darcy…”
“Not now, this is perfect, too perfect to spoil.”
Dismissing me, she continues to look out to sea.
Damn it, I brought her here for a fuck, not just to sit for the entire afternoon and admire the scenery. I kneel beside her, and reaching down I squeeze the inside of her thigh. She jumps and giggles; taking my wrist, she wraps my arm around her waist, which forces me to sit back down. I slump over, resting my chin on my hand; this is like some boring chick-flick with no fucking action. Well, fuck this. I jump to my feet, ripping my shorts down my legs and kicking them off. I glance down; I’m not aroused yet, so I don’t wait around for her to see. I turn, leaving her to watch my ass disappear as I throw myself head first into the waves.
“Come on, Darc,” I call, beckoning her to join me. “Get ‘em off!”
“Snow,” she says, wide-eyed, “we can’t.”
“You joking? Why not? Who’s here to see? The palm trees?” I laugh sarcastically. “You were more than happy for us to fuck in the back seat of the police car, and round the back of the opera house.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“It was dark and we’d been drinking.”
Stark naked, I wade back to shore. Small waves break over her toes as she dips her feet. I lunge forwards and grab at her ankles, making her squeal.
“Snow, let me go!”
She kicks her legs, but I ignore her completely and turn back towards the ocean. I drag her behind me till she’s out of her depth. Still pulling her legs, I glance over my shoulder. All I can see are her feet … her head’s underwater! I drop her legs and grab her arms, and she comes up spluttering.
“You arse!” she gasps, hitting out at my chest while trying to catch her breath.
“God, Darc, I’m so sorry.” I try hard to sound sincere, but my shoulders begin to shake and I end up laughing in her face.
I don’t mean to, I really don’t, but the irony, it’s just too damn funny. I bring her into the sea to seduce her and instead nearly drown her in the process. I’m quite the charmer! Chase is going to love this one.
“It’s not funny!” she spits out, though it’s only a matter of seconds before her lip trembles and she’s laughing too.
Still laughing, I lean over and flick her drenched hair from her eyes. She smiles up at me as I cup her face between my hands. Droplets of water drip from her lashes and spill onto her cheek. She’s beautiful, so fucking beautiful; her eyes, her features, the tone of her skin. I glance below the surface of the waves, searching for her body, but as they splash against her shoulders, her curves are distorted. What does it matter though, when I can see all I need with my hands?
“I want you,” I growl into her ear.
Her reply is a mimicking echo of my words. I reach beneath the surface, pawing at her breasts; they’re not exactly a handful, but they’re good enough for me. I lean my face into hers, nipping her bottom lip with my teeth and then running my tongue along it, licking away the briny aftertaste. I’m half-expecting her to pull away, but am pleasantly surprised, for she’s rubbing her hands down my groin. I clench the cheeks of my arse at her touch and feel myself heat up inside. Her doing this tells me all I need to know. I take her hand before it has chance to wander towards my throbbing cock. I can’t let her go there, I’ll come. No, I’ll explode in her hand, after days and days of utter frustration watching her feline frame wandering round half naked before me. As a wave hits, pushing us closer together, I clasp her waist and she arches her back. Leaning into her, I suck fiercely on her neck, grabbing her ass. She jumps up, wrapping her legs around my waist. I laugh to myself. Quite the dirty bitch and I love it, I love this side of her.
Holding her in my arms, I turn; this time I’m not dragging her into the sea but back to shore. I carry her to where Chase lay the towels, and with her still tucked up in my arms I sit down, then slowly lean back, taking her with me so that she’s sitting astride my waist. She leans over me, her long hair falling across her face. Her sand-grained fingers stroke my cheeks.
I glance up. The sun gives the illusion of a white backdrop behind her, and as she looks at me all I can see is her outline. It’s like an angel is gazing down at me. Fucking hell, Snow, get a grip, you’re starting to think like a woman.
And then it slips from my lips. “I love you.”
I clasp my hand to my mouth. Her hair tickles my shoulder as she tilts her head.
“Snow, say it again…”
My hand slides down to my chin.
“Darcy, I love you.”
“Tell me you mean it.”
I nod and say, “I mean it.”
Wow, where did that come from? I remember the flippant way it had slipped out to Darcy before, but it wasn’t really meant, and was purely for effect. But now I’ve realised I’m falling, no, I’ve fallen in love. I never knew someone could make their way so completely into someone else’s heart, yet as I look up at Darcy, I know that sh
e has. She completes the moment by telling me that she loves me too.
I reach between her legs, pulling her tankini bottoms to the side. She lifts slightly, taking me in her hands, and then manoeuvres herself over me. I feel the head of my penis as it rubs against her damp opening. I can’t control myself any longer, and grabbing either side of her hips, I thrust myself deep inside her. We haven’t fucked in this position before, but I can hear from her groans and the way she tenses around me that she’s loving it. I jerk my pelvis up and can feel that our movements are not quite in sync, so this is for me to take charge. Using slightly more pressure, I squeeze my fingers into her sides and rock her hips back and forth until simultaneously our movements coincide.
Warmed by the blistering sun, I hold her close, her head nestling comfortably against the side of my neck. Overwhelmed by emotion, I gaze down; this is no meaningless embrace. With Darcy so close it feels as though I’m holding my world. I know it sounds soft, but I really don’t give a shit. I can’t believe how much I’ve changed, how much she’s changing me. This time we didn’t fuck, we made love. In the past I’ve only ever fucked in the dark and whoever she was facing away from me; why would I want any of those meaningless shags to look at me? They weren’t looking at me as a person, all they saw was my money. Yet when Darcy looks my way, I know it’s me that she sees.
She stretches her arm over the side of the towel, and lifting the lid of the cool box, she pulls out her flowery beach bag.
“Snow, it’s been a couple of hours.”
I prop myself up on my elbow.
“And?”
“Well, don’t you think it’s about time you reapplied my suntan lotion?”
I allow my hands to glide over her back.
“Guess you’re wanting another massage?”
Her teeth shine as she gives me an open-mouthed smile. She giggles, rolling onto her stomach, and throws me the bottle. I catch it and sit up, crossing my legs, and begin to unscrew the lid. Looking back down, I notice she has her phone in her hand.
“I’ve got ten missed calls and five texts off Jenny.”
“What’s she say?” I enquire.
She flips from her stomach onto her side.
“She wants me to ring her as soon as I can.”
“What else did she say?”
I watch her eyes drop as she scrolls though her messages.
“That’s it, that’s all she said.”
She holds her phone at arm’s length, squinting at the screen.
“I’ve hardly got a signal, it keeps dropping out.”
I laugh. “What do you expect out here?” I say, tipping the lotion between my palms.
“Snow, what if something’s happened to her; maybe she’s gone into labour early or something’s wrong with the baby,” she says as she sits up, raking her hand through her hair.
I blow out a long drawn-out breath and wipe my hands down the side of my legs to free them of lotion.
“The signal’s not great out here, but I can guarantee you at least one bar in my beach house.”
“Beach house?”
“Yes,” I say, taking her hand. “Over there.”
Pulling her to her feet, I point.
“Behind the palm trees.”
I grab the cool box, and she throws the towels over her shoulder, while I throw my shorts over mine. Long grasses sprout from the sand, brushing against our legs as we snake our way between the huge trunks. Shaded by broad palm leaves, I walk her towards a lush landscaped garden and my glass-fronted beach home. I can see by her widening eyes that she’s impressed. I watch sand flick from her feet as she runs towards the three white concrete steps that lead to the sliding glass door. She stands and waits, looking in. I steal up behind her.
“What are you waiting for?” I ask.
“For you to open up, what do you think?”
I smirk, lifting the latch, and pull open the door. She steps under my arm and into the open-plan living area. When I need some me time, to get away from it all, this is where I come. I moor up the speedboat and stay here for days. I love this place with its contemporary feel, its straight lines and its uncomplicated decor, quite the opposite to my complicated life.
“This is amazing,” she exclaims, and with her arms out at her sides she turns full circle and gazes up into the light airy ceiling.
She flits around, looking in cupboards and opening doors. I can hardly wait to see her face when she steps out the back onto my veranda and sees my saltwater plunge pool.
I switch on the air-con, getting a cool blast, and shake the sand from my shorts before pulling them back on. I take a slow walk into the kitchen area, open my American-style fridge and search through my vast wine selection for something white and sweet.
“No way…”
I hear her voice. I place the cold wine bottle down on my white granite worktop. She’s sitting cross-legged on my leather settee with her mobile pressed to her ear. She jumps up.
“You’ll never guess what.”
I raise my eyebrows, attempting to look enthusiastic.
“What?”
“It’s Chris, he’s won the lottery!”
“You’re shitting me!” I call out, and she frowns. “I mean, you’re joking!”
“I’m not.”
She shakes her head, and then her concentration’s gone as she talks back into the mouthpiece of her phone.
“Yes, Jenny, I’ve just told him, didn’t you hear me?” She holds the phone between her shoulder and cheek and begins to jump up and down, clapping her hands. “Three hundred thousand!” she bellows.
I rub my ears with my fingers. Have I heard her right?
“How much?” I pipe up, butting into their conversation. “Darc, do me a favour, put Chris on the phone. I think congratulations are in order.”
“Jenny, put Chris on the phone.”
She waits for a second and then slides her mobile across the breakfast bar. I pick it up and press it to my ear.
“Hello…” I hear.
Just one word from that man, and his voice already grates on me. Clenching my teeth, I smile so that Darcy can see.
“That’s amazing, Chris,” I say in a jovial tone, though I am lying through my teeth. I lift my finger. “One moment, Darc, just popping to the bathroom.”
“Where are your glasses? I’ll pour the wine.”
I gesture with my head to the place where they’re kept, then walk through a small hallway and into the bathroom. Once inside, I turn on the taps to make sure she can’t overhear.
“Chris, I take it you’re on your own?”
A muffled “yes,” comes back. “I’m outside the flat,” he tells me.
“Good, keep it that way. Three hundred thousand, where’s the rest?”
I scratch my head. The streets, that must be where I know him from.
“Please, Chris, tell me you haven’t ordered a hit on Lenny?”
“No, but if you return to England I suggest you watch your back.”
This guy can’t be fucking serious! I try not to laugh.
“Oh, we’re playing games, are we? Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t mess with me. I can get you nobbed off with a click of my fingers.”
I laugh down the mouthpiece. I know I’m talking shit, but I’ll do anything to unnerve him.
“Chris, you’ve made one massive mistake. Sleep well, old friend.”
My finger’s on the button and I’m about to hang up.
“No, Snow, wait.” There’s an anxious tone in his voice. “I lied, I didn’t order a hit on you. I didn’t order a hit on anyone. Why would I pay to have someone murdered?” The line goes quiet. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“Chris, I’m losing my patience. Where’s the rest of the money?”
There’s no reply.
“That was meant to give you and your family a better life,” I hiss.
His voice is raised and erratic as he begins rambling on about the odds, red and black, the horses… Chris,
Chris, where do I know him from? Fuck me! It’s clicked.
“You’re the little prick from gamblers anonymous,” I spit out.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. With Rayne on my case it was money I could ill afford to lose. I wrote Chris a cheque for eight hundred thousand, but for what? He has no idea about my past, and knows nothing about my time on the streets and the gang I was in. I shake my head; the little fucker has nothing on me. We just happened to share the same addiction and attend the same weekly meeting.
“I could have doubled my money, and we could have…”
I can hear his voice breaking; is the pussy crying?
“Chris, will you never learn?” I say in a derogatory manner, shaking my head. “Didn’t those meetings teach you anything? The casino, the bookies, whatever, they always win…”
I slam my hand against my head.
“You gambled away five hundred thousand pounds in a casino, you stupid fucking idiot. When you kiss Jenny and your kids goodnight, I hope for your sake that you can look them in the eyes and live with yourself.”
“Snow, do you think you could—”
“Chris, fuck off.” I cut him dead and end the call.
I press my head against the wall. It’s not often in my life that I meet someone and immediately think they’re a cunt; not until I met Chris, that is. He was a cunt five years ago, and he’s still a cunt today. It’s quite ironic that I knew him back then; he would already have been married to Jenny, and therefore would have been Darcy’s brother-in-law. We were indirectly linked, yet five years ago we would never have known what a small world we live in.
It must be ten minutes or more that I stand staring at the grout between the mosaic tiles on the wall. There’s a knock, and I can hear Darcy’s muffled words. Backing away from the wall, I open the door and peer out.
“The wine’s getting warm,” she tells me, red-cheeked; I can tell that she’s started drinking without me.
Bypassing my eyes, it seems she looks at my forehead; it makes me wonder how many glasses she’s had.
“Okay,” I say, passing back her phone. “I’ll be there in two secs.”
A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) Page 17
