Though this time, I have come away with more than I bargained for.
Still, strike while the iron is hot. And that sangria has turned the temperature to sweltering. Maybe the water will finish the job and get her to talk.
I pour the last of the sangria into her glass. She gives me a scolding look as though she knows exactly what I’m doing, but drinks it all the same.
While she finishes her glass, I walk over to the bar and pull out my wallet, keys, and phone to hide in a cupboard. Although the bar is set to close down until reopening at eight this evening, I’ll be able to slip back in and rescue my things before then.
By the time I make it back to the table, she’s finished her drink and is already out of the chair. She reels, looking amusingly surprised at her inability to stand.
“Cuidado,” I caution, as she grabs the edge of the table to steady herself. “Perhaps we should save the beach for another—”
She angrily glares at me, then sets her mouth into a firm, determined line and straightens up.
A smile comes to my lips as I watch her carefully try to walk her way out of the bar. It’s a good thing she has such sturdy shoes. I’m sure that’s the only thing keeping her from toppling over.
My smile fades as I follow her out to the beach. Once again, my mind goes to work.
Who the hell would be after a twenty-year-old American?
Is it something she’s done? Seen? Or is it just a matter of who she is?
And why the hell would she pick Santa María of all places to hide out at?
She walks a few steps into the sand before realizing that it would be much easier without the clumsy shoes on. She nearly topples over as she tries lifting first one leg, then the other to remove them, then continues on. Winding her way through the crowd, she finds a spot about two meters away from where the water gently laps in small waves against the beach.
I remain a few meters behind her, just waiting to see what she does. The shoes slip from her hands and fall with a plop onto the sand. My brow rises when I see her hands come up, presumably to unbutton the shirt. It lowers when she opens it and allows it to slide from her shoulders down her arms to join the shoes on the sand.
Maybe the sangria worked a little too well.
Being in her bra and underwear isn’t a problem. The demure, white cotton covers as much as anything anyone else is wearing here, probably more.
I swallow hard when her hands come back behind her to undo her bra. Not even an hour ago, she was appalled at the idea of going topless at this public beach. Now, she might as well be under some type of trance, considering how she’s undressing without any hesitation.
I’m completely mesmerized. Nothing is left but a stretch of dark, coppery skin that glows in the sun, separated by a triangle of white cotton. Her thick mass of curls stirs in the mild breeze.
From behind, she looks like some sea goddess.
Scratch that. There’s something a little too mortal about her. But she is a hypnotizing figure, the kind that could easily draw men to their doom.
I’m annoyed to note that I’m not the only one who seems to be under her spell as she slowly walks to the water. Young men who should be focused on the group of topless girls next to me. Older men who should be watching their kids. Much older men who should know better, but are beyond caring. Even boys who are probably getting their first taste of puberty as they steal surreptitious glances her way.
But this mermaid is mine. I’ve already claimed her.
I quickly step out of my shoes and remove everything save for the black briefs I have on. By the time I head for the water, she’s already dived into the waves.
It doesn’t take me long to catch up to her. I dive and easily find her in the crystal blue water ahead.
I break the surface and find her standing there looking out to sea, the water rising to just above her waist, enough to lift her body slightly with each swell of a wave. She has her hands crossed over her chest as she turns to face me.
As soon as I stand to my full height, almost a head taller than her, she laughs and twists around to dive back into the sea like some playful water sprite.
My brow furrows with irritation for some reason, and I dive in after her. This time when she comes up for air, the water is just high enough to reach her naked breasts. She uses her arms to keep herself steady as the water rocks her back and forth. Her hair spreads across the water like twisted seaweed.
I’m more steady, and some impulse has me pulling her in closer, my hand coming out to her lower back. Just as instinctively, her arms come up around my neck like I’m a buoy keeping her from drifting away. The tips of her breasts graze against my chest, stirring something in me that’s much more active than the waves passing by us.
The rest happens so naturally, I almost don’t realize I’m doing it. My hand slides down to cup her ass through the soaked fabric of her underwear. Her legs come up to circle my waist. My free hand slips in between us, creeping past her waistband. Her eyes close in anticipation of what’s coming.
I find the tiny bundle of nerves hidden in the private depths underneath that cloth, and she throws her head back. I stroke, slowly at first, watching her nostrils flare, her throat pulsate, her lips tremble. Her thighs clench around my
