Page 13 of My Only

And I wasn’t looking forward to waking up outside of it.

I peeked over at Hassani again, catching the way he smiled at me, pencil still moving across the page.

He had shown me some of his sketches, and as always, I marveled at how effortlessly his hands translated what he saw into something tangible.

His sketches weren’t just of the villa.

Some of them were of me.

Doing simple things—like right now, lounging on this chaise.

I aimed my camera at him, focusing on the way his fingers gripped the pencil, the slight crease in his brow, the way the sunlight highlighted his profile.

And then… click.

Hassani smirked, his gaze lifting.

I said, “I’m going to start charging you for all these sketches you make of me.”

Hassani smiled but said nothing in response.

I lay back against the chaise, eyes squinting against the sun. “I’ll never forget this place.”

“Same,” he said softly, closing his sketchbook and setting it on the side table. “We need to start getting ready for the surprise I have for you, though.”

Excitement made my heart flutter in my chest.

It was our final activity on the island—one Hassani had saved for our last full day in Saint Lucia.

We had done everything else the island had to offer… except for this.

And whatever it was, Hassani had been keeping it a secret.

Hassani walked over to me, the sunlight catching on his defined arms, abs, and chest, casting a shadow on the floor as he moved.

Even though he no longer ran track competitively, running was still part of his daily routine—even here, on the island.

He had kissed me out of bed every morning to join him, and I had never refused him. Not when I was always rewarded with a return to that bed and good sex until noon.

So, of course, I never complained.

My camera was in my hands again as he sank onto the edge of my chaise, my lens aimed at his handsome face.

He leaned around the camera, making me giggle.

His lips brushed against my neck.

“And how much should I charge for all these photos you’ve got of me on this thing?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling in my chest.

I closed my eyes as he sucked lightly on my skin, heat pooling low in my stomach.

Hassani trailed soft kisses from my neck to my cheek, then toward my lips.

I blindly reached for the side table, setting my camera down to free my hands, so I could take his face between them.

And when he pressed his lips to mine, we both moaned.

Didn’t waste a second parting our lips, our tongues caressing as our kiss deepened.

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