Reef takes the pineapple, lightly dips it, then watches me watching him.
I decide on the apple with more sauce and feign concern of it spilling on my jacket.
Reef picks pineapple next and allows the chocolate to drip on his rock-hard chest. He leans back in the chair as it trickles a path between his pecs down to his abs. Taking the hint, I stand and squat between his legs, leaning in to lick the sauce from his chest. He makes a sound in his throat—a sound I want to hear again. He holds my gaze, only the wind picks up and blows his hair about as well as my dress.
He takes my hand, the platter in his other, and leads me to the dining table. Reef sits on the long bench and pats the seat beside him. I do one better. I stand and sit on the solid wooden table before him. Unbutton my coat. His eyes are locked with mine until I peel the material from my shoulders.
“Fuck,” he says. With his eyes on my chest I lean across to dip sauce on a strawberry, and swipe it over my cleavage. His mouth finds the sauce, kissing, licking, and sucking. He slides a strap down my shoulder and makes the noise I love to hear as he takes my breast in his mouth.
I lean back allowing pleasure to rise. “Yes,” I whisper.
With gentle pressure, he opens my thighs, and his hand is between my legs, his mouth on my breasts, and I’m bucking my hips on his table.
“Reef…” I gasp.
The pleasure stops. He stands over me, staring as though I’ve become dessert. “I’m out of action to a degree, but my tongue works fine.” He takes hold of my underwear and pulls the material down my thighs. “Take off your dress.”
I’m not drunk enough for him to see my curves in bright light. There’s no sheet to cover me. I love to expose my breasts because they are my thing, but my rounded hips and butt are something else. The bulge in his board shorts is a tell he’s barely containing his excitement. I fall back on my elbows, open my thighs, and say, “Not yet.”
His hands run up and down my inner thigh before I lose sight of his face.
“You’re right.” I gasp. “Your tongue works fine.” He peers up with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Don’t stop.” Strong hands hold my thighs open and still while he works me like never before. “Reef…” I fist his hair, hold his face to my sex while resting my legs on his back. Sparks of pleasure shoot up my groin, and I scream, “Yes,” as colour explodes around me.
Scrambling to my elbows, I reach over and grab the pineapple and feed it to him. “Perfect.”
He slides onto the table next to me. “You are,” he whispers while he picks up a strawberry and places it on my lips. “You have an amazing body, Mace. I was nervous about you coming. Thought you’d expect more. But fuck… you’re perfect.”
I’ve never been told I’m perfect before. Only by my father and he doesn’t count. I blink at Reef, bewildered, and smile. Then remember what Georgia had said and warned me about these guys being a number to him. I need to keep it physical. “I can return the favour,” I say, then slide off the table and kneel before him.
“I don’t know,” he hesitates. “I’ll blow quickly because—”
Stretching the elastic of his board shorts, I slide them down to free his cock. While taking it in my hand, the pink scar to his upper thigh close to his groin is on show. “I’ll be gentle.” I lower my lips over his silky skin, my tongue swiping the path of my lips. He bucks a little on the wooden bench. One hand clutching the seat for support, the other gripping my ponytail, he pilots me as he soars toward orgasm.
“Mace,” he rasps the moment he comes in my mouth. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. Gave you a chance—”
“You taste as good as the fruit,” I tell him.
He leans his forehead on mine, both hands on my shoulders. “Stay the night?”
Chapter Twelve
MACY
“I can’t,” I rasp. “It’s too early.”
Reef leans back and assesses me, his brows pulled tight. “Too early?”
I place my hand on his cheek and hold his gaze. “I don’t need to hear the nice things, or for you to spoon me to feel okay about this. I know what it is we’re doing.”
“Right,” he says abruptly. “And what do we have going on here between us?”
I drop my hand when he flinches away. “It’s about the sex. It’s okay, I’m a big girl and can handle that it’s nothing more. I know where I stand.”
“You want to explain it better to me?” he asks, his arms now folded across his broad chest.
What? I imagined him being relieved that I was letting him off the hook and not all clingy because this is a speech I’ve practiced in my head. “We both enjoy hooking up, and each other’s company, but nothing can come of us.”
His expression changes, and for the life of me, I can’t work it out because, for a moment, it looked like disappointment. But he shuts down whatever he’s feeling and says, “Good.”
We stand in silence for a moment.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He grabs a T-shirt and pulls it over his head.
“I don’t need you to.” I find my bag. “I haven’t parked far.”
Reef walks me to the lift, presses the button, and waits with me. When the doors ding open, he takes my chin in his hand and gives me a tender kiss on the lips. “See you soon, Macy.”
I drive home unsure of where we’re at because that kiss did not feel like it was all about the sex. I trace my lips with my finger. This guy is not like anyone I know.
After locking the front door, I peep in on Dad. His loud, audible breaths comfort my panic, and I tiptoe along the hallway turning off lights and reach the lounge and check by his chair for beer cans. There are none. He kept his word. It’s a little after ten, so I head to bed and open Netflix on my iPad to re-watch one of the horror movies on my list.
Only I stall, opening romantic movies instead and scroll through the titles shaking my head in denial to the happy-ever-after fairy tale portrayed. I do what I vowed not to and click allowing my heart to swell even with the opening soundtrack tricking me to believe in hope. I snuggle down on my pillow, preparing my heart for a different kind of fear.
The marriage proposal in the movie plays on my mind. It’s not real. Still, I’m charmed post-movie to believe it’s possible, and like every other movie watcher, allow myself to feel worthy. I fall under a spell and drift off to sleep thinking about Reef.
I sit up in bed, remembering my dream of Reef making love to me. My heart pounds, and no longer under a ridiculous spell. I shower and head out to the kitchen ready to make breakfast for my father.
“You were home early.” He glances up from reading the paper. It’s two days old since I bring home a newspaper from the restaurant for him each day. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, and how did you know? You were snoring when I checked in on you.”
“Heard voices and music coming from your room and realised you were watching a movie.”
“Sorry, did I disturb you?” I rest an arm on his shoulder and look at his empty bowl with yoghurt smeared on the edges. I smile, knowing he’s trying to become healthy, and his eyesight has improved with the new medication.