Page 117 of Dagger in the Sea

We got on board the small boat which would take us to the beach. I turned to watch the harbor receding from view. And there was that man in the brown leather jacket on his phone, turning his back to the sea.

“This way you get to see the island by water, Turo,” Adri’s excited voice brought my attention to the rocky shoreline, the hidden coves as the fishing boat cut through the dark blue water. Truly spectacular raw beauty. Luckily, only two other couples were on opposite ends of the beach when we arrived by our hired water taxi. This was a remote location. If that man was following us, tracking us, there’d be no way he’d come here without it being obvious. My pulse ticked. For the time being we were good. For now.

The small, smooth pebbles on Áxla’s shore shone in the sun, creating a blanket of unbelievable glimmering pale gold beach. As we neared the shore, the crystal clear, aqua water took my breath away all over again. I’d never tire of the sight of it, I knew. Here, there were no loungers with thatched umbrellas, no café bar filling iced frappé orders. Just a sweep of clean shore in a low-lying cove which cut the velocity of the winds, and a rolling hill of green in the valley beyond.

“There’s a river back there and a hiking trail.” She pointed beyond the shore.

Taking her hand in mine, we made our way down the small plank, and onto the shore. We dropped our bags in the center of the beach, and I pitched the umbrella she’d brought along this time. Adri laid out a bamboo mat on our patch of sand with our towels spread out over it, and I set the big tote bag on top along with larger rocks in case the wind kicked up. We were efficient vacationers.

She tossed her sunglasses on the towel and ripped off her blousy caftan with the wide winged sleeves, a short, see-through number of burgundy and pink, and ran into the water. I tore off my T-shirt and chased my island nymph and her sculpted ass into the rolling waves.

We swam up and down the shore, collapsed on our towels relishing the warmth of the sun’s rays. She applied sunscreen all over my chest and back. My pulse picked up. My erection knew no bounds and I didn’t give a damn. Neither did she. She put the cap on the white bottle, her tits squeezing out of her tight bandeau top, and I leered at her, ogling like a hormonal boy.

We ate our sesame-coveredkouloúria,the thin Greek version of a bagel. She took her bikini top off and, lying down on her tummy, fell asleep. I fell asleep too, if only for about fifteen minutes according to my watch, but it felt luxurious and indulgent. My body enjoyed being stretched out under the sun in the clean, clean wind, the refreshing sea swirling a few feet away. In fact, I was more relaxed than I’d ever been in recent memory on this remote beach. Chicago may as well have been in another fucking galaxy. Alessio’s boat. The Russian’s playground. All of it.

Adriana turned over and stretched out like a satisfied cat.

Jesus.

I straddled her, hands planting on either side of her head.

She blinked. “Hello.”

I kissed her, nipping at her upper lip, and her hips curved up to meet mine. Her hand swept up my side to my pec, rubbing the hard muscle there, and my stomach tightened. I stroked the edge of a silky breast, my hand itching to cup the round fulness, to knead its soft firmness. I wanted to see her face morph with pleasure and pain at what I’d do to that ripe tit.

I leaned over her, whispering in her ear, “I want to bite you, suck on you, lick you.”

Grinning, she dug her fingers into my sides as her hips raised against mine, searching for more friction, but I pulled away and went back to my side of the towel. I liked teasing her, keeping her guessing. She sucked in a deep breath and put her top back on, fiddling with the fabric.

I opened up our water bottles, and handed her one. Crossing her legs tightly, she gulped at her water. Her teeth scraped along her bottom lip. “Your sense of control, that’s your strength. That’s where you’re comfortable, isn’t it?”

I screwed the cap back on my water bottle. “It keeps things clear. Confusion sucks, in plain English.”

“I agree, it does. But do you not think it keeps you stuck at the same place somehow?”

“What are you trying to say, Adri?”

She pressed her lips together.

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to be yourconvenient.”

“Mywhat?”

“Or your something thatworks.” Her lips twisted.

“What are you talking about?”

“You want authentic from me? I want authentic from you. After this—” she waved her hand in the air in one of those throwaway Greek gestures “—you can go back to your controlled convenience.”

My breath knotted in my chest.

She wanted myauthentic. My erection felt pretty damned authentic. My pulse heating every time I touched her, kissed her. My thoughts, all of them, were shadowed by her.

And thatafter? Me leaving Greece and going back to Chicago wasafter. Her in Athens or London or wherever the fuck, stepping back into a sea swarming with men was herafter.

After.

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