He’s been telling her that we’ve been hanging out. Liar.
I clenched my jaw. “Well, I can tell you for certain that I haven’t hung out with Tyson since the boat party on July fourth.”
She widened her eyes in surprise.
I shrugged. “We’ve been a bit distant with each other.”
“Why?” she asked.
It could be because I punched him in the face, or the fact that the same night he walked in on me holding you under the moonlight while you slept.
Tyson hadn’t said anything when he walked in on Mia sleeping in my arms. I didn’t say anything either and I damn sure didn’t let her go. We just watched each other, almost daring the other to say something. That moment must’ve lasted for a full minute. Pissed, he spit on the deck and walked back to the cabins below.
And I?
I continued to hold Mia and watch her sleep. She felt too good in my arms. I was being selfish and stubborn that night. Probably even crazy. But I didn’t give a fuck.
She’d clung to me, her sensual curves enticing and her breath intoxicating, even with the scent of rum. I held her close, breathing in her perfumed fragrance and relishing in the feel of her body, soft and warm against mine.
An intense yearning bulldozed through me in that moment, ramming and slamming through my system. Raw desire and longing so potent my cock went stiff and stayed that way the rest of the night.
All I craved was to decorate every inch of her body with kisses. To stroke her naked skin. To have her writhe under me with pleasure. To hear her melody of moans and feel the heat of her smooth skin moving against me.
I should’ve never held her that night. It heightened my desire for her. I never got her out of my head after that day. Tyson and I merely kept it cordial after that and never hung out again. And now Mia tells me that Tyson started cheating around then?
That morning, Mia opened her eyes and realized she was in my arms—her date’s best friend’s arms. The top button of her blouse had come open as she’d snuggled against me. The curve of her breasts had spilled out over the cups of her pink bra and greeted my eyes.
An intense hunger had crashed into me that night, like a diesel truck, wrecking my gentlemanly side. Having her so close and with only a little fabric between us twisted my wicked thoughts into overdrive. I was human desire pulsing and pumping within the flesh, ready to rub my cock against her ass and make her scream my name.
Even in the car right now, all I yearned to do was touch her lips.
Tyson had been cheating since July 4th? How the hell was he not all over Mia?
That day, it had taken all my strength to keep a good distance from her. When Mia had come out in that bikini, I couldn’t think. All I did was mumble for the first ten minutes. A war of yearning and insanity blazed within me. As she swam, her body glistened. Wet waves over slick, smooth skin. Somehow, I’d gained control. I’d kept my mouth closed, my hands to myself, and a few feet between us.
Then the fireworks came, and Tyson left us alone. She drifted to sleep in my arms. I watched her slumber the rest of the night.
Later, when the first ray of sunlight illuminated the sky and the ocean rippling around my yacht glimmered with color, I still held her.
And it was everything—all color and sound and spectacle, with her in my arms. That moment was so beautiful. I couldn’t have imagined being anywhere else, with anyone else. All I could do was ache as I remembered that the moment was completely real.
She wasn’t mine.
A cool, salty breeze had blown through her hair. Seagulls squawked as they spread their wings and soared over the yacht, probably sniffing for food. It was in that moment Mia had woken up and gazed at me with desire blazing in her eyes too.
But was it desire, or had I imagined it all?
So greedy for the taste of Mia, I had leaned down to kiss her and she’d frozen with shock, leaned back, mumbled sorry, and rushed away.
What the hell did I think was going to happen? Mia wasn’t like that.
One probably didn’t want to cut Mia off during rush hour. She had serious road rage. The person would get choked or worse. But overall, she gave Tyson and her relationship respect, keeping the boundaries clear between her and me.
That small moment of cuddling on the fourth of July was the only time I’d really touched her. Other moments were full of cock-teasing short hugs and high-fives, nothing else.
That July 4th was the best and worst day of the year. I’d gotten to touch her, and then I’d gotten to watch her walk away.