Page 2 of Until Presley

“No. Your Jeep was intimidating, and I thought it would be fun,” I reply honestly.

“Can I take you up on the offer?” Hearing him speak to me in that language is a turn-on. His deep voice, combined with the lilting tone, is sexy.

“Um… I’m Presley,” I say in English. I move my hand from his waist, where I didn’t realize I was holding on to him, and extend it between us to shake.

“Ham.” He smiles as he slips his sunglasses up and takes my hand in his.

He’s a foot taller than my five-foot height. His hand practically engulfs mine with long, tanned fingers wrapping around my pale skin. I look up into his hazel-blue-green eyes, flecked with gold and brown, like an island in the middle of an ocean. I push my sunglasses onto my head and try to pull my hand from his, but he won’t let go.

“It was nice meeting you, Ham. I’m sorry I drifted into your lane. I was admiring the sunrise. But I have to go now.”

“Where are you headed, Lee?” he asks, shortening my name. Normally, it would upset me, but my heart thumps in my chest. I actually like it.

I’ve been given awful nicknames through the years, mostly by my stepsister and her friends, but I push those thoughts aside. I don’t want to focus on that right now. I have this sexy man talking to me. My head spins as he looks at me. It’s a look of pure desire and claiming. His eyes are like a caress as they trail from my feet to the top of my head.

“I have to go,” I repeat as my alarm goes off, alerting me that I have fifteen minutes to reach the boat.

I squeeze out from between him and my car, then reach back inside to grab my bags. He laughs when he sees my purse, and I glance down at it.

“What? I like sharks,” I explain, and he steps back as I close the door and set the alarm. “See you around,” I tell him before taking off.

I walk briskly away but sense him just behind me.

Ham

When the little sprite blew me a kiss after almost hitting my Jeep, I had to find out who she was. I’ve lived in the Keys for a couple of years and haven’t seen her before. Now that I’ve gotten close to her, I know she would have caught my attention regardless of how we met. A part of me knows she is vital. Something I remember Walker saying when he met his wife, Hanna.

“Presley,” I say her name in my head as I follow behind her, admiring her shapely little ass as she continues moving toward the marina where I’m meeting the guys. The thought of my best friends makes me shake my head. I teased Walker about his behavior when he first met Hanna, but now, I can’t say anything. I’m determined to learn more about this little sprite.

Her toned, muscular legs are inked with tattoos in bold, bright colors. There’s a shark on her calf, another shark curves around her upper thigh, and an underwater scene sprawls acrossher opposite leg. More tattoos snake down her arms, each one a work of art.

She’s legal, but just how legal? I don’t need to be attracted to someone barely of age. At thirty-five, I’m starting to feel my years, wanting what Walker has—a wife, a family. But I haven’t felt that spark with anyone until this petite little thing blew me a kiss.

My best friend Walker and I met while I was still in the Navy. He had this wild idea for us to go private, diving professionally. After I left the service, I spent years diving all over the world with him and Otto, our other best friend. We made more money doing treasure hunts, repairs, and underwater searches than I ever imagined. But when Walker met his wife, Hanna, he didn’t want to travel as much, and then they got pregnant. Settling down here in the Keys was the perfect opportunity for all three of us. We opened a dive school, teaching others what we know and taking on local jobs. It also gave me a chance to settle my family somewhere I could be there for them.

Lately, though, I’ve been lonely. And now this little sprite has me thinking all kinds of thoughts I’ve never had before.

She turns and looks over her shoulder at me. Her sunglasses shield those incredible eyes. I’ve dived in almost every body of water you can think of, but only once, while diving off the coast of India, did I see that same color in the ocean. They’re startlingly beautiful. Her almost round face and wide, doe-like eyes pull me in. I almost kissed her next to her little car.

“Are you following me?” she asks, her voice low and velvety. It’s the kind of voice I want to hear whispering dirty things in my ear as I take her. Or as she screams my name.

“Nope, just enjoying the view.” I chuckle when she blushes.

She turns back around and weaves between the businesses. I swear she’s heading toward the marina too. I watch as she attracts the attention of other guys, and I stare them down untilthey turn away. I can’t blame them. Her shorts barely cover her ass, and I can see the seafoam green bikini bottoms through the holes in the front.

She hikes up her heavy backpack and slips her shark purse over her shoulder. That’s it. I’m done letting her run from me. I pick up my pace. Her little legs are almost jogging to keep ahead of me. I reach for her backpack, and she pulls away.

“Sprite, let me help you. Are you heading to the marina?”

“How did you know?” She looks around at our surroundings. She doesn’t completely fear me, but she’s being cautious. I like that.

“I’m heading that way too. With all the shark tats and bag, I figured you must be a biologist, so that’s where you’re headed.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Can I help you?” I ask, reaching for her bag. “My mami would throw her slippers at me if she knew I wasn’t being a gentleman.”

She smiles, and her whole face lights up.

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