“What do you think?” He shoves them in my face and the expression on his chiseled features reminds me of a puppy begging for praise.
Anger quickly nests in my chest like a burning coal in a cold furnace, replacing my fear from earlier. “What took you so long?” I ask. My tone comes out more accusing than I want, but he deserves it. My legs are still wobbly and I clench my hands into fists to keep myself from shaking too much.
He looks a little hurt. “I wanted to get all three of them. It took a while. I didn’t have the right tools.”
“Why did you take so long?” It doesn’t really matter why. I was so scared that something had happened to him. My entire body is shaking, releasing the avalanche of fear that has paralyzed me before he came back into the boat. I am trying hard to keep it together. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I scream silently and beat myself up.
“I just told you,” he answers flatly, throwing the lobsters into the styrofoam cooler at the end of the boat and slams the top shut. I know that my reaction has disappointed him. That realization also disappoints me. I guess we just don’t understand each other.
“Let’s just head back.” He sighs.
What would I do if I lost him? Does he know how worried I was? Does he understand how scared I was? He doesn’t even care. He just wants to show off and be a big shot. Does he even care about how I feel? Big, ugly tears roll down my face. Frantically, I try to wipe away the tears with the backs of my hands like a little kid who has been wronged. My embarrassment joins my anger and all I want to do is disappear.
I thought he would drawback in disgust at the grown woman who is bawling like a spoiled little kid. Instead, he reaches over and wraps his arms around me. He smells masculine and musky, drenched in seawater and sunshine.
“Hey, hey,” he coos. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” His voice is soft as he looks into my eyes. My heart leaps with joy. He does care! A voice cries out in my head.
“I was so worried! I was so scared!” I sob with my face pressed against his bare chest, finally letting it all out.
He squeezes me tighter and rocks back and forth as if I am an upset toddler that needs to be soothed. “I shouldn’t have just jumped off like that. I’m sorry. I’m here now. It’s okay.” I feel safe in his arms, and his voice is the gentlest lullaby in my ears.
He touches my face, and we kiss. My pain and anger go out the window with his comforting touches. Even though I barely know him, even though we’re in a little raft in the middle of the ocean, I feel at peace that I am here with him.
He gently lowers me into the boat. His hands roam and explore my body as I moan into his mouth. His tongue darts out and traces the outline of my teeth and teases my tongue. Gingerly, I place my fingers on his chiseled biceps and feel the heat radiating off of his skin. While my head is still spinning, he pulls my dress over my head.
I am a little ashamed of the old white bra and granny-style underwear that I am wearing. I wish that I had the money for lacy designer underwear that would make me look sexy for him. I’m wishing the first time he saw me like this, he was seeing me draped in sexy lingerie. But he doesn’t seem to mind. All he sees is me, the real me, not some fictional, dolled-up version of me. I realize I don’t want to hold anything back from this man.
My cheeks burn as I reach my hand behind me to unhook my bra. My fingers slip a few times due to the saltwater and nervousness. The bra falls on my lap. Immediately, he clasps his mouth over my breast and cups one with his hand. His mouth is wet and hot as he sucks. The strange tingling sensation travels from my chest to between my legs. My center is getting embarrassingly wet.
His fingers pry at my waist and pull off my underwear as well. Reality sinks in and I blurt out, “I—I’ve never done this before.”
I can’t believe I just said that to him. I can’t believe I admitted it to him when we have gotten this far! He probably thinks that I’m a prude or a tease. He’s going to stop and walk away now. I am such an idiot.
“Good.” He nips at my earlobe and growls, “I want to be your first and your last.”
The heat burns through his dark eyes, and I tremble as I look into them. He kisses me from my face down to my navel. I yelp in surprise as his long, burning tongue plows into my center. Foreign waves of ecstasy wash over me and my breath catches in my throat. I never thought it would be like this. I feel as if I’m on fire and the only thing that would quench me is his touch.
He deftly tastes my center and swirls over the hard nub at the peak of my mound. With each flicker of his tongue, my body shakes and quakes. White lights dance in front of my eyes and my eyes roll to the back of my head. Desperate to hold on to something, my hands grasp onto the wooden ledges of the boat and I cry out into the sky.
He slows down and speeds up in sync with my cries. He plays me perfectly like a musical instrument, attentive to my sensitive spots and clever in his application. My heels are digging into the bare wood
