me!” A desperate plea. A defense mechanism? I’m suddenly treading water in a sea of doubt.
He smooths my unruly damp hair. “No, baby. As much I’d like to, and believe me, I’m hard as nails, I need you whole tomorrow. You’ve had enough of me tonight.”
I can’t get enough of him. I want him in the worst way. With all my heart. Tears, as salty as the sea, fill my eyes. I blink them back.
“Please.” Mama’s magic word.
“Baby, what’s the matter? Why do you look like you’re about to cry again? Seriously, I’m not good with tears I can’t control. They drive me crazy.”
“Good crazy?”
“No, bad crazy with you.” His violet eyes, dark with night, pierce mine.
“What do you mean?”
“Because I care about you.” He traces my lips with a finger. “And have this all-consuming need to protect you. So, when you cry tears I don’t understand that have nothing to do with me f*ck
ing you hard, I think I’m failing.”
His words eat away at me. I’m fraught with emotion. He cares about me. This is not the first time he’s said that, and I flashback to the time he told me this while I was convalescing from my concussion. Somehow, those words directed at me tonight strike an especially deep chord. A traitor tear escapes.
He kisses it away. “Zoey, please don’t do this to me. Stop crying. And that’s an order.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
A grateful sexy smile lights up his face. “C’mon, let’s go for a swim before we head back. There’s nothing like swimming in the sea at night. I’ll stay close to you.”
Knowing he’ll be there for me, all my inhibitions and fears melt away. A renewed sense of security and strength washes over me. On my next breath, I’m under the water with Brandon by my side. Other than the shadow of his chiseled body and the bubbles we make, all I see is blackness. The blackness envelops me and is magical, instilling me with peacefulness and a passion for survival. Making me brave the precarious unknown that awaits me. Lead your dreams and land them…then live them. Right now, Brandon Taylor is mine and I’m his. The swim is sublime. And so is his kiss under the water.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I say to myself silently. For as long as my breath allows. I may be swimming in the sea, but I’m drowning in love.
Zoey
Brandon insists on me wearing his linen shirt over my dress after our swim to keep warm as well as on carrying me back to the Ducati. And when we get to The Carlton after leaving the banged up bike and our helmets with the valet, he insists on carrying me through the lobby to the elevator. Not only doesn’t he want me to walk because of my fragile condition, I’m shoeless. I tossed my heels into a trash can in The Old City when I ran away from him. Barefoot, I could step on something nasty and get hurt. He’s so overprotective, but I give in to him. And besides, it’s fun. I’m riding him piggyback-style—something I used to love doing with Pops when I was a little girl. I haven’t done it in years.
“Hold on,” he says as he bounces me toward the elevator.
“I am.” I start giggling at the double meaning of my words. My legs are wrapped around him, his arms hooked under my knees, and my arms draped over his broad shoulders. The ride is stimulating my nipples, the friction of his bare skin against them arousing me. I swear there must be a power cord that plugs into my p*ssy
. And it’s sparking. I could easily come again.
The Carlton is buzzing. International movers and shakers occupy the bar, already making strategic partnerships and distribution deals for the year ahead. I spot Blake Burns in an animated conversation with two Japanese broadcasters. I hope he doesn’t see me. And then again, I don’t care. Thanks to tight security, paparazzi are nowhere in sight.
When we get to the elevator, Brandon punches the UP button. To my relief, a car comes quickly and the doors part instantly. Mortification races through me. Standing before us is Blake Burns’s lovely wife, Jennifer, wearing a sexy red cocktail dress I recognize from Chaz’s collection. Gah! What is she going to think? Brandon’s bare-chested; I’m wearing his shirt and have a tangle of wet hair, and we’re both sprinkled with a fine layer of sand. I smile sheepishly and squeak, “Hi.”
She steps out of the car and the doors close behind her before we can get in.
She gives us the once over and then flashes a big smile. “Looks like you guys had fun.”
“We went for a swim,” Brandon says without reservation.
And that’s not all we did. It’s hard to tell if Jennifer knows we f*ck
ed our brains out. No fan of Katrina’s, she’s not passing judgment.
“After you wash up, why don’t you both join Blake and me for drinks?”