by Scott, S. L.
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
“Really. Now go. We only have thirty minutes before we need to check in.”
She spins, eyes scanning the merchandise, and says, “I almost don’t know where to start.”
“Start wh—”
“Shhh, I’m a girl. That was rhetorical. Stay quiet and try to keep up.” She scurries through the racks of clothes.
The sections are divided by design: traditional, modern, muted, and some crazy ones. She goes to the traditional section and pulls out a shirt and some other things. I’m paying attention, but not that closely. I follow her to the dressing room, sit in the provided ‘guy’ chair, and wait.
When she comes out a few minutes later, she’s wearing a blue-based flowery button up shirt. She twirls for me. “How do I look?”
“Um, it doesn’t show much skin.” That’s all I can think to say because I don’t think I thought this through thoroughly when I came up with this idea. Why in the hell would I take her shopping for clothes that cover her up?
“I like the colors,” I say, circling my finger in the air at her shirt.
She turns on her heal, huffing, and goes back into the dressing room. Two minutes later, she returns wearing a dress in that same pattern. It’s fitted to her breasts and has small thin straps. The skirt portion is tied up on her hip and shows off her curves nicely. I stand up and plant a gentle kiss just behind her ear. “You look amazing.”
“So, that’s a yes then?”
“A definite yes.” I’m too busy to say more because I’m still appreciating her soft skin against my lips. “Keep it on. I want you to wear it tonight. I’ll meet you up front at the register.”
Reaching around, I take the tag off, leaving her to gather her stuff. Then I rush back through grabbing a Hawaiian shirt for me and pulling it on over my head as I walk to the jewelry section. Scanning the cases quickly, I know what I’m looking for because I’ve seen Kate in a similar pair of earrings, but I’m not looking for earrings. When I spot exactly what I want, I make all my purchases there, hidden from Mallory’s sight.
Mallory is on her tiptoes looking for me a few feet away. I hurry to her side not wanting her to wait any longer and ask, “Did you see anything else you’d like to have to remember your trip to Hawaii?”
“I’ve got you. That’s all I need.” A huge smirk crosses her face as she pokes me in the chest. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks.”
Her finger sways between us several times as she takes in the fabric. Yeah, my shirt matches hers. I went there. “You don’t think we’re a little matchy-matchy?” she asks.
“I want everyone there to know that I’m the guy lucky enough to get to wear a shirt that matches my incredibly stunning girlfriend’s dress. Not too psycho for ya, is it?”
“A little, but I’ve always been a sucker for your stalker tendencies.” Her finger taps my chin and she walks toward the exit, leaving me there to watch her fine ass.
She’s fucking hot.
In the car, she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for the dress. It’s really pretty.”
“You look beautiful, Mallory.”
“I feel beautiful. Thank you.”
I throw the bag in the trunk after retrieving her surprise out and shoving it deep into my pocket.
The mood is light and easy on the drive. We finally pull into the large lot on the other side of the tourist buses, and park. We walk to the entrance and down the bamboo corridor that leads us to the greeters. They hand us a Mai Tai, and a girl in a traditional hula outfit welcomes us, “Aloha. Welcome to Luau Paradise, step on up, and we’ll take your picture as a souvenir. You have the option to purchase the picture at the end of the evening.”
We’re shuffled forward by a big burly dude and suddenly a man with some very large parrots is standing very close, warning us. “I’m going to put one on each of your shoulders. Don’t make any quick movements, scare, or harm the birds. Mahalo.” And that’s how I come to find myself standing next to Mallory in a matching Hawaiian shirt, Mai Tai in hand, a very large bird on my shoulder, and posing for a souvenir photo that I’m definitely going to purchase.
Mallory has the biggest grin on her face says, “Cheeeeessssseeeeeyyyy.” The flash goes off and she looks up at me. “You weren’t looking at the camera.” Oops, guess I wasn’t, but she can be very distracting, too cute for her own good.
The photographer holds his finger up and says, “One more. Face me and smile.” He snaps another shot and we laugh, gently, so we don’t scare the birds. The birds are immediately removed from our shoulders and we are shuffled along to make room for the next couple.
Mallory takes my free hand and says, “This is fun. Let’s go make a lei.”
“Yeah, that sounds fantastic,” I reply not hiding my sarcasm.
Thirty minutes later, I managed a bracelet after destroying about a hundred flowers trying to shove that damn needle through their tiny, delicate centers. Mallory, on the other hand, is the proud new owner of a perfect, handmade lei that’s already being displayed around her neck. She slips my creation around her ankle and then slips her flip flop back on.
Checking out my girl covered from head to touristy toe, I smile. “I meant to tell you, I’m liking the ensemble tonight. Very hot.”
“Hot enough to want to get it on later?” she asks playfully, poking me in the stomach.
“Hot enough to want to get it on now.”
With a hit on the chest, she blushes. “You say the nicest things, Mr. Ashford. Are you this nice to everyone?” Walking ahead of me to the old fashioned games area set up on the beach, she turns abruptly before I can answer, and throws her hands around my neck. “Tell me you’re not this nice to everyone. I need to hear you say that to me.”
She lowers her head in shame, but I lift her chin back up and pull her against my body while gently squeezing her ass. “I love only you. So, those words only come to mind when I’m with you or think of you.” I push a section of her hair that the wind has carried across her face back, and say, “I won’t ever hurt you. I may disappoint you, but I will never hurt you, Mallory.”
She tucks her head under my chin and I can tell she’s satisfied with that answer. With a renewed excitement she pushes off me and says, “Now go spear me a target, sexy.”
I turn and suddenly a guy in a Hawaiian loin cloth is handing me a spear and mocking me with a challenging smile. “It’s simple, haole. Take the spear in your hand and hit the target. Like this,” he says, throwing the spear and hitting the bulls-eye. “See? Simple. Nice shirt, dude.”
More mocking. He’s getting close to an ass kicking. Glancing at Mallory, I’m rewarded with an encouraging smile. I throw the javelin as hard as I can and miss the target completely. The guy snickers under his breath and says, “Want to humiliate yourself with another try?”
“Yes, he’ll try again! Go on, babe. I know you can do it.” Mallory stands proud and pushes me forward to the table of spears. My girl’s got a competitive streak it seems. She leans over and whispers in my ear, “You hit that target and I’ll make the drive home a drive you won’t forget.”
She definitely knows how to motivate me. Puffing my chest out, I step up for another go. The guy eyes Mallory up and down, lingering on her breasts a bit long for my liking. I grab the spear from his hand and give him a glare that sets him straight. With all my strength and jealousy, I angle the spear back and throw it, focused on my target.
“Yes!” Mallory exclaims, jumping up and down and clapping. She grabs my face and her tongue enters my mouth all possessive and showy, which is totally fucking hot. Just as I slide my hand up to the sides of her breasts, a loud conch shell is blown in the distance, breaking us out of our little world. She wipes the side of her mouth, and announces, “I’m so proud of you. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
I start to smirk at loincloth guy, but I’m yanked away too fast to show off.
After we’re seated at the long banquet tab
les, the staff starts handing out trays of food. The place is packed and apparently they’ve done this a few times because they have this service down and they’re fast.
Mallory works her way around her divided plate, clockwise, tasting one bite of each thing on her plate until she gets to the Poi. I watch wondering if she’ll try it.
She points her plastic fork at it and asks, “What’s this?”
“Poi.”
“What’s Poi?”
“It’s made from the Taro root.”
“Why is it grey? It looks like glue?”
“Just try it.” I roll my eyes.
Coating the ends of her fork, she wipes the tines onto her tongue. She’s so sexy, oblivious to what little things like that do to me. Scrunching her nose up and then smiling, she says, “I’m so glad I tried it.”
“Really?” I asked shocked.
“No, ya jerk! Why’d you let me put that in my mouth? You knew it was gross and you still let me do it.” She huffs.
“Some people love it while others say it’s an acquired taste.”
“Well, it’s not a taste I want to acquire. That’s gross!” She takes her napkin and drags it down her tongue.
Oh, fuck me, alright already. I look at my watch, frustration of the sexual kind setting in. Two hours left until I get the sweet release promised to me earlier. I gulp loudly at the thought of her licking… The entertainment starting interrupts my dirty thoughts.
Five hot-looking hula girls start dancing across the stage. Hula dudes come out doing some really loud chanting and stomping behind them and I recognize the one from the spear game earlier. After sending a wink in Mallory’s direction, he smiles at her. He fucking winked at my girlfriend right in front of me. He’s got some big kehones and damn lucky he’s up there dancing right now or I’d pop that winking eye.
Running my fingertips in small circular motions around my temples, I try to calm my irritation, but then, like a bolt of lightning, it hits me. “Shit!” That’s how I used to treat women. It didn’t matter if they had a boyfriend or not. “Oh Shit!” I say, dropping my head into my hands. Guys don’t care that she’s my girlfriend! They’re going to hit on her anyway. She’s mine damn it! Karma is a cold-hearted bitch, so her name is probably Kelly. I feel a snarl rumble through my chest at the thought of her and the shit she told Mallory at the party, hoping to break us up.
Suddenly Mallory’s hand is rubbing up and down my spine as she comes closer and whispers in my ear. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
Looking into her sweet, caring eyes, I can’t help but smile. It’s small, but a smile all the same. “I just… I’ve been an asshole for so long,” I confide in her. “I love you.” Weak, I know, but she knows about my past so it’s all I can say that feels justified right now.
“Oh baby, I love you.” She turns back to the stage and exclaims, “Look, a fire breather! Cool!”
I turn toward the stage again and settle back into my chair as she rests against me. I move my arm around her shoulders and we watch the show.
Twenty more minutes of hip shaking, foot stompin’, fire breathing action and I see the dancers roaming the audience gathering participants. I hate this kind of shit and hope they don’t come to our section.
Tap.Tap.Tap.
“Evan! Go!” Mallory says excitedly. “You’ve been picked. Go, baby, show me your moves.”
I look up at the hula girl smiling down at me and then to Mallory. Wiggling my eyebrows, I whisper, “I’d rather show you my moves in private, if you know what I mean.”
She doesn’t fall for it, so I begrudgingly stand and follow the girl up onto the stage. How can I say no when Mallory looks so incredibly happy right now. Looking at the audience, I realize there are probably five hundred people watching us on stage, and my face heats up.
After a minute of getting adjusted to all eyes on me, I loosen up. I’m here with Mallory, for Mallory, and I’m going to enjoy myself. I meet her eyes and smile, knowing she’s enjoying this so much.
Trying to follow the girl next to me is hard. I’m apparently doing it all wrong. She puts her hands on my hips and smiles at me. Raising my arms up, I look down trying to make my middle move the way she’s showing me. The hula girl pulls and pushes my hips side to side, but it seems of no use and I just start moving, laughing, and having a fun time anyway, throwing in a little ‘umph’ at the end just for Mallory, which makes her laugh. We’re escorted off and the girl who picked and attempted to teach me, whispers, “Hang out after the show and I’ll give you a private lesson.”
“Thanks, but I have a girlfriend.” My tone is light, friendly, and very proud. I love that I’m taken. I would’ve never thought I’d think that way, but here I am and I’m happy.
Mallory attacks me with kisses when I sit down.
“I’m better with my thrusts,” I joke, not really joking.
She laughs, and agrees. “That is for sure. You definitely have thrusting talent.” She then goes on about how cute I was up on stage. She evens mentions that she didn’t appreciate that girl’s hands all over me, but that she thought it was cool that I went up there.
We finish our meal, the show ends, and we buy our souvenir photo. I should really be more embarrassed over how I look in these photos dressed like this, but I buy it anyway because she wants it.
As we head for the car, we hold hands. Our body language to any passerby could be mistaken for newlyweds. I tighten my hold on her liking the possibility of this thought.
It will take less than an hour to get back home and the first fifteen minutes is filled with an escalating sexual tension, intensifying with each passing minute. I wasn’t going to hold her to her offer from the luau, but I can’t say that I am going to let her off that easy either. I love her mouth on me and really want to feel and see her doing that to me again.
By the time we get out of Honolulu, Mallory has a devious sparkle in her eyes as she licks her lips—slowly—making a show of it. She reaches over and rubs her palm across the top of my length that’s already hard for her, but when she moves closer, I stop her. Quickly closing my eyes, I’m shocked by my own actions.
Since I’m driving, I don’t keep my eyes closed for long, needing a second or two to recover.
“Evan? What’s wrong?” She sits back in her chair.
Reaching over, I tug at her seatbelt, making sure it’s tight and she’s safe. “You don’t have to do this right now. I want to collect my winnings at home, so I can also pleasure you.”
“Doing this for you does give me pleasure,” she murmurs into my ear.
Her mouth trails down my neck as one of her hands explores my chest and abs under my shirt. Squirming from anticipation and nervousness, I really shouldn’t let her do this to me while I’m driving, especially after being pulled over last time, but she’s so fucking hot and persuasive…
She lets me return the favor when we get home.
46
Mallory
Lying in bed, I’m physically exhausted from Evan dragging me all over the island sightseeing for more than a week. He has his mind set that I will have the same full experience as anyone else visiting Hawaii. The difference is—he’s my tour guide. My body tingles remembering some of the places we’ve been making out: in the yellow submarine off of Waikiki Beach where he bought the entire tour’s tickets so it could be only the two of us, kissing on the beach instead of snorkeling at Hanauma Bay, and hiding in the maze for well over an hour at the Dole Plantation; I hid and when he found me, he ate pineapple soft serve off my body. That was completely inappropriate with all the families running around, but was fuckin’ sexy. We couldn’t even make it home that day because we were so hot and bothered, so he pulled over on some dirt road and we finished what we started.
That was last week and my legs are still sore from the hike up Diamond Head two days ago. Well, it might also be from our ‘doing it like there’s no tomorrow sexcapades, but I would never complain about my Evan lovins.
T
hrowing back the sheet, I look to my side.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Evan says, bright-eyed, all smiley, showing off his perfect teeth.
I grumble.
He comes over and sits down next to me. “Don’t be moody, baby, it’s a beautiful day.”
I flail my arms in the air as I whine, “Every day is the same here. Beautiful blue skies, the ocean sounds in the distance, birds singing,” I let my finger trail down his bare chest, “perfectly tanned, muscular, strong, sexy surfer boys.”
He tilts his head down questioningly, “Boys, as in plural?”
“Okay, just one perfectly tanned, muscular, strong, sexy surfer boy.”
“Go on.”
“Go on?”
“Yeah, I want to hear more.”
“Ahhh. Well.” I continue lightly dragging my nail down his abs. “A surfer who is incredibly smart, has the best blue eyes I’ve ever seen—”
“You’re kind of making my cock jealous of my eyes,” he says, batting his lashes playfully at me. He rubs his chest with his hand, spreading his fingers to cover a large portion of it then slides it over his abs, which are looking more defined than usual if that’s possible.
I involuntarily swipe my hand across my mouth in case I’m drooling, but stay focused on his hand as it travels downward. I can feel his eyes burning into mine, but I continue watching the show he’s all too happy to give me.
He dips his fingers into his pants, slides them up then back down completely disappearing into the fabric of his briefs, and grabs hold of his hard length. “You like watching, baby?”
Gulping, I squeeze my thighs together, my body responding to him.
His hand reappears, and I sigh in disappointment.
“Don’t worry,” He says. “We’ll have plenty of time to watch each other when we’re apart. We’ll sex-cam.”
“Can’t you give me a little preview of what to expect? I mean, it won’t be the same on the monitor. Wait, what? You want me…” I say, my anxiety showing through my tone. “To touch myself in front of the webcam while you watch?”
