“You’ll see,” she said, nabbing the bag and her purse.
I waited for her outside the ballroom, and she came out in a red mini dress that made me want to come in my pants. It hugged every curve, showed those strong thighs I wanted wrapped around me. She twirled for me, and I grinned, pulling her in and nuzzling her neck. I meant to just breathe her in and tell her she was beautiful, but I had to taste her skin, had to glide my tongue along her collarbone. I sucked her neck, pulled her aside until we were down a hallway by a palm in a huge brass pot.
“I want you right here,” I breathed, aching for her, “now.”
“You know I would. I’m shameless when it comes to you. But I don’t really want to get arrested at Elise’s wedding. Nice hotels have cameras in the hallways,” she said with a sigh. I gave her one searing kiss and led her back to the ballroom.
We sat at the head table with all my brothers. Karin and I shared cake, toasted with champagne, and she scurried around with her camera during the first dance for the bride and groom. I’d never seen everyone so happy. Friends of Elise’s from New York and her family embraced the island spirit, snatching flowers from the arrangements and putting blooms in their hair, dancing barefoot to the local band. It was a hell of a party and there was, of course, Guinness flowing freely for the O’Shea side.
The best part was dancing with Karin in my arms, right where she belonged. Her body pressed to mine, her arms looped around my waist and her head nestled against my chest where she fit just below my chin. Holding her like that, swaying to some sappy song, I had never been happier. I felt her sigh right in my own chest, and knew she felt the same.
In the early hours of the morning, after Elise had taken a nap with her head pillowed on her arms right at the head table, and people were peeling off into groups to go to bed or an early breakfast, I grabbed Karin’s hand and led her out. We drove back home to my cabin. I’d convinced her to move in after the Dominguez incident, which was the best decision she’d ever agreed to so far. Weary and happy, we stumbled into our cabin. She dropped her bag by the door and went for a glass of water at the sink. I came up behind her and unzipped her dress. I put my mouth to her bare back and kissed my way down her spine.
I heard the glass clang into the sink as she turned around into my arms, her lips open under mine. I picked her up, those thighs wound around my hips, and carried her to our bed. I ran my hands all over her through that red dress, touching her everywhere, making her twist and gasp in my arms. I stripped her bare and before I could take off my own clothes, she was practically climbing me, all strong, tanned limbs wrapping around me, her mouth on mine. I helped her shuck off my clothes until we were naked together, tumbling onto the bed, laughing.
I grabbed her arms and hauled her up against me, trapped her hands against my chest so I could kiss her deeply, slowly. I felt her melt in my arms, felt her wrap that thigh over my hips. I had meant to take longer, to worship her body, to let her know how desperately I’d wanted her all day, but when it came to the moment, I felt the head of my swollen cock brush against her wet, aching slit, and I went for it. I pumped my hips forward and breached her with my cock without warning. She moaned as I went in deep, letting myself savor the grip of her muscles, the joy of tunneling into that tight passage, stretching her with my cock and feeling her accept me. Her bare stomach against mine, her breasts rubbing on my chest—every point of contact was on fire with Karin and me. I reached back and gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly so she could take me deeper, to give myself a little more room to pump into her. She cried out at the sensation, shouted, “More, Mick, give it to me!” and started to buck her hips into me frantically. I fastened my mouth onto her nipple and sucked, burying myself in her so deep it took even my breath away. I felt her start to come, heard the strangled cry she gave before my tongue filled her mouth and I pounded into her, my back arching, my cock exploding inside of her with lavish spurts of my cum searing her sex.
When we were sated and exhausted, she curled up against me. I kissed her forehead and reached over to my nightstand. I pulled out the box and set it on my chest. She took it in her hands, eyes wide as they met mine.
“Marry me, baby,” I said.
“Yes,” she answered, tears filling her eyes. She grinned as a happy sob racked her body, and I held her close as I kissed her tears away.
Epilogue
One Year Later
A honeymoon in Paris had been the gift I surprised her with. All I wanted was to be married to her, and we had made it happen. Our wedding was simple and sweet, and we’d managed to get her mom to come to the island for the ceremony. It had meant so much to Karin to get to show her mom the business and life she was so proud of building in St. Martin with me.
Two days after the ceremony, I’d spirited my bride onto an airplane and settled her in a beautiful, historic hotel with a view of the Champs-Elysees. We had tried escargots and drank Cotes du Rhone wines. We visited Notre Dame and got ice cream from a famous stand on the island. Every single street and café had been photo worthy to my wife. She was in a constant state of euphoria, pointing out gorgeous sites, insisting I look up what year something was built or what style of architecture it was. After a morning making love and an afternoon at the Louvre, I took her to dinner and to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I knew that one of her most cherished bucket list items had been to take nighttime shots of Paris from that vantage point, and I had made it my mission to make that wish come true for her.
After about an hour of watching her take photos from different angles and with different filters, holding her bag and switching out her equipment, I laughed and asked her if she thought she had enough pictures yet.
“I think I do, but there’s just one that I really want you to see,” she said, her eyes shining.
I stepped up to her camera, and she switched on the screen, flipping back to the photo she wanted to show me. I tried to think of something artistic and thoughtful to say about whatever shot of a dark street with headlights that she was about to show me. I knew this excited her, and I wanted her to know how special she was to me. I just couldn’t really tell the difference between most of the shots of the same thing she showed me. I thought she considered tossing me in the Seine when I thought two of her gargoyle pics were identical—apparently shadows or contrast or something made a huge difference to the untrained eye. I gazed at her face, at her lovely profile and the excited energy that bounced off her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you, too. Now give me your honest opinion.”
Karin turned the screen toward me. It wasn’t a shot of Paris at night. It was a shot of a white stick with two pink lines on it like the number eleven.
“So, I took a little test this morning back at the hotel,” she grinned, “and it looks like you’re gonna be a daddy.”
I was overjoyed. I swept her into my arms and spun her around, kissed her face, her cheeks and her lips.
“You’re amazing. This is the best thing you could have shown me.,” I said.
We had come a long way from where we started, standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, kissing passionately in the city of love.
The End
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Chapter 1
Elise
“I can’t believe they charged me extra for my suitcase,” I muttered as I unpacked my stuff.
“Really? You brought like everything you own, plus six pairs of shoes. We’re only here for ten days. I’m curious to see how often you change clothe
s on vacation,” my best friend Karin teased.
“At home, I’m a one-outfit-a-day girl, but on vacation, I turn into Barbie,” I joked. “I need at least four changes of clothes a day, more if we go out to a club.”
“Well, if you need to change your makeup look every time you try a new outfit, I’ve got you covered. It looks like I went easy on the clothes and shoes, but I packed the entire contents of a Sephora in my cosmetic bag. I literally forgot to bring toothpaste, but I have four different eyeliners. Plus two kinds of bronzer. I mean, hello? It’s an island. There’s sunlight. I don’t need bronzer,” she groaned.
“You’re used to New York, where you can get a smog-tan but not a suntan,” I quipped.
“Oh, you’re so clever,” she said, “look at you with the jokes. Meanwhile, I know why you’re in a good mood.”
“It’s not a big mystery. I’m on St. Martin looking out at a gorgeous beach. I get to manage my own photoshoot this time. It’s all good,” I said happily.
“You’re happy that there’s no Gavin coming up behind you with the shoulder rub of doom,” Karin said, “that guy has no boundaries.”
“He’s my boss. I’m a direct report. His attitude is just something I have to live with until I—,”
“Until what? You get promoted again? Because you just made Junior Exec, Elise. It’s going to be a while before they bump you up again.”
“Maybe not. If I can make this shoot run perfectly, come in under budget with great results, I’m proving I can handle it on my own. Run my own accounts, start to finish. It’s the first step to moving farther up the ladder. I’m not going to let that handsy douchebag Gavin Peters derail my career. I love advertising, and I’m going to make the most of this opportunity.”
“He’s the fucking Harvey Weinstein of the ad world. You said yourself that he tries to look down the front of every woman’s top. You really lucked out getting to report directly to him, didn’t you?” Karin asked sarcastically.
“Don’t remind me. What did you think of the Pinterest board I messaged you, that color scheme?”
“Love it, but part of it requires night shooting. I went ahead and rented equipment for that. It’ll be delivered to the hotel day after tomorrow.”
“Terrific. What about scouting those locations?”
“I think we’re all set. Have I mentioned that without you and the ad jobs you hook me up with, I’d be eating ramen instead of staying at this resort?”
“No way. You’re brilliant. Besides, you understand my vision, and your aesthetic is exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Would you say that if I tried to look down your top?” she laughed.
“No. I’d fire you.”
“What if I borrow your shoes?”
“As long as they’re not on my feet, I’m fine with it. Besides, I have amazing taste in shoes.”
“I do appreciate those sandals,” she said, wistfully eyeing them.
“Well, when I’m done with them, they’re all yours.”
“We’re going to get into a lot of trouble on this little trip, aren’t we?” Karin asked with a wicked grin.
I shook my head and tried to look serious. “No. We are going to be professional and businesslike 24/7.”
Karin giggled. “Sure. Sure we are.”
I took my best friend’s hands and squeezed. “We’re in this beautiful place. I have my first campaign shoot without Pervy Gavin sniffing around behind me. Let’s go grab a bite to eat and do a little sightseeing.”
“Don’t you want to change clothes first?” she teased.
“Sure. Sounds great,” I said and looked at the items I’d just hung up in the closet.
I chose a sundress I’d grabbed on sale because I thought it looked tropical. It was a linen shift, aqua-colored with some kind of white fern print on it. Now that I looked at it, I felt like it was maybe less island getaway and more mahjong in Miami. But with the right shoes, it would be fine, I told myself.
“My grandma has a top like that,” Karin said, arching one eyebrow.
“Shut up,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Look, we have a few days off shooting this round. We have a chance to explore this place and get in some trouble. You’re not going to have any fun dressed like that. You’re way too pretty to dress like a pillow on somebody’s patio chair.”
“You’re just being silly,” I said, putting on some hoop earrings and taking my hair down.
I shook my curls loose from the messy bun and gently combed my fingers through them. The sea air was definitely giving me some beachy waves. I loved that. Shame about the dress, I thought.
“Do you have a belt?” I said hopefully, “Just a skinny one? To give it some shape?”
“Uh, did I mention all the eyeliners? Could I interest you in any of these three eyeshadow palettes?”
“I’ll take that as a no on the belt. Exactly what kind of mischief are you planning for us?”
“The naked kind,” she said.
“I only like you as a friend,” I deadpanned.
“Your loss. My boobs are amazing,” she said with a laugh, “but I plan to find a gorgeous beach bum with a year-round tan and one of those pukka shell necklaces, and we’re going to go all night long.”
“Making necklaces from shells you find on the beach,” I said sarcastically.
“Yes. I assume that’s how he makes his living—selling shell necklaces. And hopefully his favorite hobby is full-body massage.”
“Ah, I see. A renaissance man,” I giggled.
“And you’re going to find one, too. You’re so serious. You’re not even thirty. Live a little. You’ve been so caught up in your career, you forget to let your hair down.”
“My hair is, quite literally, down,” I said, indicating the red hair tumbling down my back, “Look, I even got highlights before we came. So I look beachy.”
“They’re good. Very subtle. Unlike that dress.”
“Oh my God. I’m taking it off right now,” I whipped it over my head and flung it in disgrace onto a chair.
“When we get back home, maybe have it made into some throw pillows.”
“I’m gonna throw a pillow at you any minute now,” I said, “now find me something else to wear. I don’t know how to dress for a vacation. Just the office.”
“That is so sad. Especially when you brought enough clothes for both of us to survive the apocalypse.”
“Just help me,” I said.
“Wear this,” she said, pulling out a romper with tiny polka dots on it, “this actually looks like someone in their twenties would wear it. Tell me again how you own something this cute and trendy?”
“You bought it for me,” I groaned.
“Exactly. I have fabulous taste,” she said.
I wiggled into the romper and changed sandals.
“Better?”
“Yes. Now how do I look?”
“You came here in those shorts. And that tank top. What did you even do?”
“I put on more eye makeup since that’s mostly what I packed apparently.”“Were you planning on doing makeup videos on the smoky eye from the hotel room?”
“I have no idea what I was thinking. Our flight out was at six this morning so it’s a miracle I even showed up in time. I can’t be held responsible for idiotic packing choices.”
“That purple eyeshadow is so… purple,” I teased.
“Yeah, it goes good with your throw pillow dress,” she said sarcastically.
“Let’s go find you some beach boy to bang. No reason to waste any time,” I said.
“I’m not picking someone up tonight. I’m going to be jet-lagged tomorrow. I need to rest up, lounge around.”
“We’re working tomorrow.”
“You’re relentless. Are you trying to make sure I don’t have the energy to have fun?”
“Nope. You’re more than welcome to hook up with whoever you want on this trip. I won’t say a word.”
“Bullshit. Of course
you will.”
“Okay, I’ll tease the hell out of you, but I’m not going to judge or anything. I want you to have fun,” I said.
“Thank you. I want that for you, too. Promise me you’ll try. You won’t be closed off to anything.”
“I’m not forward like that. I can’t go after guys.”
“Sure you can. You go after what you want at work,” she protested.
“I know, but this is different. I don’t want guys to think I’m easy,” I admitted.
“Honey, I promise. Everyone knows you’re difficult,” she said flatly.
“Asshole,” I responded with a smile.
“You know what I mean. You do not give off the vibe of a woman out for a good time.”
“Really. What vibe do I give off?”
“Waiting for a reply to a priority email you just sent to the office. All business. All work and no play,” she said.
“Really? Even in the cute romper?”
“Yeah. It’s just a romper, honey, it’s not a disguise,” she said.
“You’re so salty today, I swear,” I laughed.
“Let’s go,” she said, “My purple eyeshadow and I are ready to rock.”
Chapter 2
Brendan
I stowed my equipment and put my shirt on. Another full day of teaching surfing lessons to tourists was in the books. I had been scheduled solid since seven-thirty in the morning. Business was booming, and my surfing business, which was only opened eighteen months ago, had already turned out to be a strong addition to the O’Shea portfolio. My brothers and I had started investing in the island as soon as we arrived one by one. By the time I retired from the Navy after twenty years, my older brother Connor had already moved down to St. Martin and opened the pub.
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