Page 78 of The Best Wrong Move

I stoop to grab the most perfect white plumeria blossom, each petal streaked down the center with canary yellow stripes, like someone took a paintbrush down each one. I inhale its sweet center, wondering how to get these to grow in my apartment back in New York so I never have to live without this scent. I’ve become addicted to them since first finding the flowers scattered everywhere across the island.

I reach down to pick up another from just off the path, inhaling the new one before stretching out to snatch just one more.

Dom is watching me when I rise, backlit by the enormous moon sitting heavy on the horizon.

I hold my collection up to his nose. “I can’t walk by these without taking at least a few from the ground. They’re too beautiful not to touch.”

He brushes my hair back from my face, shooting goosebumps down my arms, followed by a shiver down my spine. He presses his body to mine, and I can feel his cock growing harder by the second. I don’t know if we’re going to make it all the way to the pool before stripping each other naked.

“I feel the same way about you, you know,” he says gently.

I bite my lip, unable to stop myself from smiling, then run my hand along his shaft from the outside of his pants. Up and down, as slowly as I can.

“I can’t stand to think of you anywhere but here.” He squeezes my hips. “You belong here as much as those flowers do. They’d never blossom back in New York, but they thrive here.”

The air between us mingles with our breath as I study his lips, then raise my eyes up to his. I grin as he lets out a throaty laugh, kissing me just once. Then he takes one of the flowers from my palm and tucks it behind my ear, slipping a stray lock of hair behind it too.

“Just think about it,” he says.

“I’ll think about it,” I promise, feeling pulled in two very different directions, split straight down the middle. My job, my friends, and my family are all back in New York. But Dom is here. His heart is here. And the longer I stay, the more I know that leaving him here means leaving my heart behind too.

When he kisses me again it’s slower, his lips parting and lingering against mine, finding my tongue with his. Soft and supple, but firm enough to leave me wanting more when we finally break apart. I try leaning in again, but he holds my arms down firmly to my sides, stopping me from taking his lips, or his shaft.

“Not here,” he whispers. “Not yet.”

“Then we’d better pick up the pace.” I grin. “I’m not going to be able to wait another second.”

We continue rushing down the dimly lit path, but it takes every ounce of willpower left in me not to run ahead to wherever he’s taking me. Just to get there a little faster.

But I let him lead me. Surrendering to the night, and whatever else he has in store.

Chapter 52

Dom pulls back a huge palm frond that’s a good foot taller than me. “Here’s the pool.”

I step back in awe, gripping the stems of the last two plumeria blooms I’ve been carrying. This clearing is like all my wildest fantasies rolled into one.

I turn to Dom and smack him in the stomach.

“You’ve been hiding this? The whole time?” I step in front of him, not caring that my jaw is hanging open like a fly catcher.

An infinity pool stretches out with a shallow, soft sand entry on one side. There’s a two-story waterfall, made of natural red stone boulders, trickling fresh water into the side of the pool. There’s a matching smooth stone grotto beside it, housing an enormous hot tub. The hot tub is nearly hidden by tropical shrubbery of every shape and color, clinging to the stone and covered in flowers and moss, acting as a natural camouflage. In the middle of the pool, just above the surface of the glossy water, there’s a slick bamboo baja shelf with a pair of creamy white day beds. Matching linen drapery blows gently in the barely there breeze. A collection of matching chaise lounge chairs encircles the deck, each with their own umbrella and side table for holding drinks or snacks from the wide stone bar. Behind the bar, there’s an aquarium the size of a small SUV, filled with an army of colorful fish illuminated by a clear blue light.

He laughs, pulling me into him. “You told me your dream was to write in a garden, not on a pool deck. Besides, you know I prefer the ocean.”

Beyond the glass edge of the pool is another stunning view of the sea, with a grand flagstone staircase leading down to the sandy beach. The moon casts its light along the water, rippling across it like a puddle of milk pooling on the surface. Millions of stars glitter across the waves, like tiny diamonds encrusted in black velvet. They sparkle in Dom’s eyes when he turns to look at me.

I’ve never seen a sky like this. Or a view like this. It’s like something out of a movie.

“Pinch me,” I whisper.

He kisses me instead, but I pull away from him so I can get another look at the view.

“This is . . .”

For once in my life, I’m completely speechless. There’re no words to describe this kind of heaven. I didn’t realize places like this actually existed outside of hotels, or that people actually lived in them. “Why don’t you just live right here? In the pool? I’ve never seen anything like it. I’d never leave.”

He smiles and takes my hand. “Quinton has really done well for himself, hasn’t he?”

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