Page 186 of The Bet
“You look that worried,” she echoed.
“I never used to care much, how girls felt,” he said, “But you mattered to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to risk messing this up again.”
“I know.”
He opened his mouth, and she placed her finger against his lips. “I know, so let’s stop it, and enjoy being here.”
“Okay.”
He stepped away, his eyes glistening, his shoulders relaxing down, as if a huge weight had been taken away.
They hadn’t come here to play volleyball, or admire the sights, although there would be time enough to do some of those things, but she had come prepared, and ready, and knew he would not be the one to make the first move.
She’d worn her shorts today, the same frayed-at-the-edges denim shorts she’d worn on the island. His face had turned bright when he’d first seen her.
She tugged his hand again. And when he moved forward a little, she tip-toed up, and kissed him, her toes digging into the sand. His mouth was soft, and luscious, and when his hands came around her waist, she slanted her mouth to the side, and deepened their kiss.
“Izzy, Izzy,” he murmured, pulling away, his breath hot, and heavy against her face. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, their bodies pressed together, their mouths airtight, as if nothing could pull them apart.
He set her down again, just as the gentle breeze kissed her almost-bare legs while heat started to rise and roared inside her. “Let’s walk down to the end of the beach,” he said, pointing to the rocks in the far distance. “I don’t know about you, but my legs need a good stretch.”
The 3 hour drive from the city to here had been hard enough on him, given that she had done her best to run her hands over her legs, getting pleasure in the fact that the sight of her in her shorts was turning him on.
It was refreshing to be outside and they walked along, talking, her telling him about her and Cara and how after this weekend she had to put her head down and study hard. And he told her where he was with his new business, but that he already had an idea to start another business.
Already, from the moment he had picked her up from her apartment, to now, they had spent more time together than at any one time since they had been together. Before, and after. That was how she saw their relationship, the before, being the time up until Jacob had told her of the bet. And the after, being now.
They walked to the far end, remembering Kawaya, and the walk on the beach there, and his Ferragamo loafers, and the waterfall.
“We should get supplies,” he suggested, as they walked back, a taste of the salt air in her lungs, and the breeze now getting stronger, whipping her hair this way and that. She rubbed her arms, wishing she’d had the sense to ditch the shorts, and put on her jeans.
“Now?” she asked, as they walked back into the house from the back.
“It’s not far,” he said, leading her through the hallway and towards the main door.
“We could go into town, grab lunch, load up on a few things, and be back in the hour.”
“Okay,” she agreed, standing at the foot of the large wooden staircase while he pulled out his car keys. She rubbed her legs, hoping to wipe away the goosebumps that had sprung up all over.
“You’re cold,” he said, reaching down and rubbing her legs. His large hands strangely warm on her skin. He rubbed again, “Better?” he asked, stealing a glance at her.
“Better,” she replied, feeling a quiver roll through her chest.
He started again, rubbing faster, heating her thighs, and making her shiver, not with cold, this time.
Putting the car keys on the side table, he reached down with his other hand and rubbed both of the legs. His hands weren’t only making the goosebumps disappear, they were setting fire to her body.
An ache started, low and heavy in her breasts, as he moved his hands up, and put them around her waist pulling her closer, his mouth falling on hers, and claiming her lips. In a few seconds she was ablaze, running her hands across the tight hard ridges of his back, exploring under his sweatshirt, finding bare skin.
He took her hand and led her upstairs, her skin prickling with anticipation, as he pulled her into the master bedroom.
“Izzy,” he breathed, brushing her hair away with one hand, and cupping her face with the other hand, tilting it up towards him before his lips crashed down on hers, in a bruising to-die-for kiss.
He pushed her onto the bed, and she sank back into the cool silk sheets, excitement and pure animal lust mixing and coursing through her veins and pumping through her. He stood back, looking at her, his eyes hooded, and dark, standing for a moment, as if wanting to see her, as if waiting and savoring the moment. And then he lifted his arms and took off his sweatshirt, “and the tee,” she urged, nodding at the white t-shirt he had on underneath.
“You first,” he ordered, and she willingly obliged, sitting up and taking off her sweatshirt, to reveal the lime green bikini she’d worn on the island.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his mouth falling open.
