And each time was better than the last.
Like, how is that even possible? But it is. Seriously.
And don’t even get me started on the orgasms.
Okay, get me started. Because I have lost count of how many I’ve had with West so far.
I’m totally lying. I haven’t forgotten. I had two orgasms the first time we did it. One the second time. One when we sexed in the middle of the night. And two this morning. That’s six orgasms.
SIX!
Can you believe it? I don’t think I had that many orgasms in the first month with Tim.
And there’s more to come. I have twelve more days’ worth of orgasms.
Hallelujah. And praise the Lord.
After our morning round of sex, I went back to my villa to shower and get ready for breakfast. We’d arranged to go together. And it was him who had asked me to go to breakfast with him. There was no way I was going to ask him. I was totally playing it cool.
After breakfast, West went to the gym, and I decided to go for a wander around the resort. Check some of the shops out.
There wasn’t much going on at the shops, so I hit up the beach. Got myself set up on a lounger with a mocktail and a book and just lounged and read. Took a nap. Grabbed some lunch from the bar and just chilled. It was perfect.
I felt all light and happy. Literally nothing could burst my happy glow.
Well, except for maybe finding out that my mum had also had sex with West.
Which would be impossible. So, yeah, not ever gonna think about that.
And I also didn’t think about West or what he might have been up to all day.
Nope, not me. I was chill.
Okay, maybe I did think about him a little bit. You know, just wondered what he was up to.
I didn’t see him for the rest of the day, and he wasn’t at dinner.
I might have knocked on his door on my way there to see if he wanted to come with me. But there was no answer. And he wasn’t in the restaurant.
I might have glanced around, looking for him.
But I didn’t knock on his door when I came back from dinner.
I resisted.
Go me.
So, now, I’m out on the deck, relaxing on a sun lounger. Sigala and James Arthur’s “Lasting Lover” playing out of the speakers on my phone. I’m enjoying the peace and gorgeous night sky while basking in my afterglow from all the sex and orgasms I had last night and this morning while not thinking about what West might be up to right now.
I stare up at the stars. I just can’t get over how clear the sky is here. No smog and clouds blocking up the view. It’s gorgeous.
Shooting star! Oh my God! I’ve never seen one before.
And I have no one to tell because I’m here alone.
West is off, doing whatever he’s doing. Which is perfectly fine because we’re not together. We’re just fucking.
I could text Aunt Jenny and tell her that I just saw—
“Hey.”
“What? Fuck!” I scream, jerking up to sit, seeing the dark outline of a very wet West emerging out of the water like fucking Aquaman and coming up the steps and onto the deck to my villa.
“Christ on a bloody cracker,” I huff, pressing my hand to my chest. My heart is beating like crazy.
I actually shit myself then. Well, I didn’t actually shit myself. But it was close.
I hit pause on the music on my phone. “You scared the actual crap out of me.”
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t look it. He’s standing there, smiling, looking all hot.
Bastard.
“So, should I ask why you just emerged from the water in the dead of night like Aquaman and not used the front door like a normal person?”
He laughs low. The sound runs over my bare skin like invisible fingers, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. Thought I’d try your way of entry. And it’s hardly the dead of night.”
He’s referring to how I got in my villa yesterday after drunkenly locking myself out.
Smart arse.
“Well, it’s not fucking daytime. And how’d you know I was out here anyway?”
“Heard the music. Thought I’d surprise you.”
“You definitely did that.” I curl my legs under me, tucking my hair behind my ear. I’m suddenly very self-conscious of how I look right now. Which is stupid because the guy has seen me wasted, wearing day-old clothing.
He’s also seen me naked.
Shiver.
“So, um”—I clear my throat—“how was your day?”
“Good. Went scuba diving, which actually turned into a night dive. I didn’t mention it to you because I didn’t think it’d be your thing.”
“You don’t have to let me know your every move.”
That’s the right thing to say, right? Play it cool. He doesn’t need to know that I’ve been thinking about him today, worrying a little that he was avoiding me, which was totally silly because we’d had breakfast together. Which he’d invited me too. Even though we probably would have both ended up there at the same time.
Fuck’s sake, I really need to get out of my own head. It’s not a healthy place at times.
I have to stop acting like I’m cool and actually be cool.
“And you would be right about the dive. Scuba diving sounds … fucking awful, and doing it at night is just like a death waiting to happen.”
He chuckles, stepping forward, coming more into the light. Droplets of water slide down his chest and in between those gorgeous abs, heading for the prize encased in those swim shorts.
I suddenly feel very, very thirsty.
“How was your day?” he asks me.
“Good. Yeah. I chilled on the beach. Read my book. It was nice.” Wow. For a writer, I’m truly shite with words.
“Cool. So, I come bearing gifts.” He walks toward me and pulls a bottle out from behind his back.
“Um, where was that? Strapped to your back?”
He grins down at me. “Tucked in my trunks.”
“You swam over here with a bottle tucked in the back of your swim shorts?”
“Yep.”
He really is Aquaman. Just less tattoos and blond. And no beard. But he does have a five o’clock shadow right now, so there is that.
I could be his mermaid tonight.
I feel giddy all of a sudden.
Okay. Enough of that.
“Where did the bottle come from? Aside from your pants,” I ask him.
The villas have a minibar, but that’s stocked with wine, beer, and soft drinks. And from here, that looks like either vodka or gin. That’s only stocked in the bar, and you can’t take bottles from the bar back to your room.
Unless he’s getting special privileges that I don’t know about. But if he is, then I definitely need to know.
“I might have slipped the guy who cleans my room some money this morning in exchange for a bottle of liquor. This is what he left for me. It was there, waiting for me, when I got back to my villa. I thought we could have some fun tonight.”
I take the bottle from his hand and read the label, “Death’s Door.” My brow lifts as I look up at him. “It’s called Death’s Door.”
He grins. “I didn’t exactly get a choice in what I got. Just asked for something strong.”
I turn the bottle, reading the back, “Forty-seven percent ABV. That’ll do it.” I chuckle.