Good Vibrations (Welcome to Paradise) (18 page)

He rests his hand on my bare knee and gives it a little squeeze. “So am I.” I can see the sincerity in his eyes and know he means what he says.

“So, are you going to fill me in on these big plans of yours?”

“No.”

“I had a feeling you might say that.”

“Do I need anything for these so called plans?”

“Definitely no.”

“That’s intriguing.” I sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride to his place. We have the windows cracked open and the music becomes background to the sounds of the ocean.

As we park and then walk the side path to his house, he carries my plant for me and holds my hand. Once inside, I flop onto the couch and he retreats to the bathroom for a minute. Upon his return, he says, “Follow me.”

We walk out the door to a set of flagstone steps that lead down to the back of the property, a strip of beach. With the setting sun as a backdrop, I see a large blanket spread out on top of the sand, a picnic basket, and champagne. My eyes go from the set-up to the smiling man before me as I realize the efforts he went to make this romantic and memorable. “You did all this?”

He’s beaming. “Ms. Chart put the basket together and I set it all up. It’s all for you, Mallory. Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Good,” he says, taking me by the hand and over to the blanket.

We sit down, and I flip off the sneakers I wore for work and lay back on the soft blanket and staring up at the sky, never feeling more content. “This is paradise.”

I sit back up and he hands me a glass of champagne, and says, “In celebration of us.”

We toast and sip, and then I ask, “Who is Ms. Chart?”

“She’s our house manager.”

“What’s a house manager?”

He laughs to himself, but not in a mocking way. “She runs the property and oversees the other employees to keep things running smoothly.”

“Since your parents are away?”

“She works here year round, but occasionally flies to New York to help out there. My parents spend about two months out of the year here. A month in winter and a month during the summer. They’re flying in later this week.”

“Will I meet them?” I watch as he looks out into the ocean as if searching for an answer out there.

When he looks back at me, the happy I saw a second earlier has disappeared. “If you like, you can.”

His hesitancy makes me nervous.

“Do you want me to?” I ask the question although I fear his answer.

“I want to introduce you to everyone special in life, like Ms. Chart, but my parents and I aren’t that close these days.” He lies down on the blanket, and sighs. “I don’t like talking about my family situation that much, but I know you need answers. I know you need them for us to work out. I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I’m just not used to talking about this stuff and usually try to avoid it.”

I lay back down, placing my head on his shoulder. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I want to tell you. I, uh, I just… I’m a disappointment to them. I don’t want you disappointed in me, too.”

I slide my fingers down the palm of his hand and intertwine them with his. “I won’t be. Remember, it’s you and me now.”

He chuckles lightly, watching as the sun sets into the ocean. Then he surprises me by opening up. “Something happened right before I went to England and it messed with my head. I had trouble concentrating and I developed an attitude. I guess I probably already had the attitude, so it just got worse. I was about to get booted from university, so my adviser called my parents. He was a good guy and only did it out of concern, but a decision was made and that’s how I ended up at Yale.”

“What happened before school?”

He rolls towards me and strokes my hair. “I don’t want to talk about that. I’m sorry. I will, but not yet, not tonight.”

I whisper my reassurance that it’s fine, and he continues, “Yale was a disaster from the start. Some of the big guys on campus didn’t appreciate me swooping in on their territory. They were legacy, but really, I think it’s that they didn’t appreciate their girlfriends liking me.” He laughs at the memory. “Maybe they didn’t like me screwing their girlfriends. That’s probably more accurate.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m not surprised by his statement.

Lying on his back, his hands drop to his sides, and I already miss his touch. He says, “I lost interest in school and just wanted a break, so I dropped out and went home. It only took a month before I was on my parent’s last nerve and they were on mine. I packed a suitcase and came out here. That was the biggest crime in their eyes. They had already plotted my whole life out in New York. I was set up with a job, an apartment, even a girlfriend if I wanted, but it was just one big fucking social climbing game there. I didn’t want anything to do with it.” He squeezes his eyes like he’s wishing the memories away.

His eyes flash open and he looks at me. “I’m sorry. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about this crap—”

“No, don’t apologize. I like when you share with me. I want to know all about you. I know you in a very intimate way, but I really don’t know who you are as a person.”

“I want to know all about you, too.”

I sit up and finish my champagne. He’s there, ready to top it off as I soon as I swallow.

“I’d rather kiss you,” he says.

He leans over and kisses me, making me want more of this man than I should. He brings out a slutty side of me and I’m really starting to like the benefits of that side. The slut is powerful and confident. She knows what she likes and isn’t afraid to ask, or wiggle into position to give a strong hint, for what she wants.
I’m Evan Ashford’s slut!

I kiss him with the pent up need of, well, of a girl from Colorado who discovered her very own personal life-size Hawaiian sex god. I jump on top of him and kiss him feverishly, pinning him down and continue on my kissing tirade of his body until my stomach growls. It growls so loud that we both—lips still attached—open our eyes and look at each other. I slowly lift up as he props up on his elbows. “I want you, Mallory, but we should eat.”

“If we must,” I say, disappointed.

After settling down onto the blanket next to him again, he pulls a container of cut-up pineapple out of the basket. “Don’t worry, we have all night and I’ll make the wait worth your while. Can I feed you?” he asks, eyebrow raised in anticipation.

I’ve always wondered what the big deal about feeding someone else was all about, so I reply, “Sure.”

I take another gulp of my champagne and look at him, unsure of what I’m supposed to be doing other than waiting for food to enter my mouth. He moves closer, confident, as he picks up the first piece of fruit and brings it to my mouth. With a smile, he says, “Open wide, beautiful.”

While waiting for the fruit, I’m convinced my mouth hanging open is completely unsexy and I start to feel awkward. His eyes and expression turn lusty and he pauses as he stares at my open, waiting mouth.  With a lift of my eyebrows, I encourage him forward. He sets the pineapple lightly on my tongue and I close my mouth around the fruit and his fingers. His fingers linger and then he slowly pulls them out and sucks them into his own mouth seductively one finger at a time.

Watching him stirs my most inner desires. Letting my own desires take over, I say, “I want you!” Without a second thought of someone seeing us here, I jump on top of him, knocking the bowl of pineapple over. He flips me down on to my back and straddles me while attacking my mouth with wet kisses.

We grab at each other’s clothes, pulling and tugging, until our shirts are off. Never looking down, his hands unbutton my shorts as he roughly pulls at them with one hand. I lift up and using both his hands, he takes the sides of my shorts and underwear and yanks them off. He removes his swim trunks and tosses them carelessly away from us. When he drops down on top of me, my legs instantly spread wider. I gasp at the sensation as he rubs his length firmly against me, hitting the perfect spot. “Baby…” His voice trails off as he sucks down on one of my breasts.

Suddenly, he looks up and his smile is mischievous. “Mallory, I’m hungry.” His words sound more like a moan than a request.

I lift up and look at him, confused.
“What?”

“I’m hungry,” he says as a piece of pineapple appears in front of my face. He holds his hand steady as my eyes flicker between him and the pineapple.
Seriously, he wants to eat right now?
I want to feel him inside of me and he just wants to eat?

“I thought we had decided to wait on the food?” I signal to our naked bodies.

He cocks his head to the side, and says, “I’m going to eat… you, baby.”

“
Oh!
” I drop back down onto the blanket. I wave him onward. “I’d like that, too. Yes, you should eat.” I put my forearm over my eyes embarrassed that I’ve become so sexually open with him. At the same time, I like who I am with him more and more. He makes me feel beautiful and brave, confident in myself.

His body moves down mine and I jerk when I feel something cold against my most personal place. Bolting upright, I see and feel him rubbing a piece of pineapple on my aroused sex. “Um… Evan…
Oh dear lord
.” That’s all I manage to say before falling back and enjoying his tongue maneuvering on me down there. I look over to my side and see his hand groping at the blanket searching for more of the Hawaiian fruit, but with no luck. I grab the bowl and put it in his reach because this feels fan-fucking-tastic and I absolutely want to encourage him to eat more— since he’s so hungry and all.

He chuckles against my wet insides, resulting in even more pleasure. My hands go to his head, gently holding his face to me, and all I can say is, “Oh my God! Yes, Evan, eat.”

I close my eyes and get lost in the sensation. His tongue and fingers work me over in opposite motions, making my eyes roll back into my head. The ocean, the breeze, the pineapple, Evan, it’s all too much. His fingers enter as his teeth graze across my sensitivity, and I lose it. With a gasp and the calling of his name, I hold his head tightly to me as his tongue does one final lap around my holy land before I relax into the blanket a complete mushy mess.

Looking up, he rests his chin on my pelvis and smiles at me. His eyes are glistening with happiness, his more arrogant side tingeing his irises with pride. He’s gorgeous.

“Promise me you’ll do that again. That was in-cred-ible,” I say, enunciating every syllable for extra emphasis.

“Honeydew melons are in season,” he says, and we both burst into laughter.

He climbs up my body, hovering over me, and kisses me. It’s tender and lovely, much like the feeling blooming inside.

The sun has disappeared into the horizon and when I turn back, Evan kisses me again. The taste of pineapple, him, and me commingling in his mouth inspires a moan from me. He sits up, his face suddenly pained. “I can’t be with you until I know you want it, want all of me. I need you to know that you’re more to me than just this, than just sex.”

“I don’t doubt your intentions,” I whisper, running my nails lightly down his back. “I want to be with you, Evan. But… I think I should rinse off first.” I can feel the stickiness and though it was quite the turn-on at the time, I worry that it might become an issue later.

He pops up then takes me by the hand, helping me to my feet.

Now I feel self-conscious. “Can anyone see us down here?” I ask, standing there naked on the beach.

“There’s a public path further down the beach, but no one really knows about it, so don’t worry,” he says, reassuring me as he leads me into the water until we’re waist deep.

His hands hold me and we come together and kiss. This time we’re much slower and tender. I let my hands explore, skimming over every taut muscle and defined feature of his strong back. His hands start their own exploration and grace down my sides to cup my ass. He pulls me up, holding my body tightly to his. His erection is solid and ready, making me moan into his mouth again. The first course was nice, but I’m ready for the main course now. He picks me up and I wrap my legs quickly around him. Trudging through the water with my body fully attached to him, he grunts into my mouth as a wave hits the back of his legs. Wobbling slightly, he tries to hold on as the next wave crashes against him and he stumbles forward. We fall down, but he catches me by breaking our fall with his hands.

He looks up and the playfulness of the moment is gone, a dark desire replacing the light in his eyes. I scurry out from under him, going for the blanket, but he grabs my ankles and drags me back down under him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The depth of his voice is mesmerizing. It’s like in those old black and white movies where Dracula approaches the distressed damsel and then suddenly she decides, hey, he’s hot. I’ll let him end my life. Yeah, it’s a lot like that right now. “Don’t move,” he says, jumping up and running to the blanket.

I don’t move an inch when the water surrounds my body as the tide comes in softly then glides back out. I don’t even think I blink in the time he’s gone. He resumes his position over me and then licks the water droplets on my stomach. The tip of his nose dips into my sex and he lingers there, inhaling me. His hot breath makes me squirm, causing his eyes to flicker up to meet mine. He crawls up my body, owning every inch of me, as I lay there helplessly under his spell, paralyzed by the sexual heat of the moment. Sitting up, he takes the condom between his teeth while telling me very pointedly with his eyes what he’s about to do to me. My breathing deepens as he adjusts back down and covers me, skin against bare skin, on the sand, in the water, in paradise.