The flush of her cheeks is back in an instant. Greer is strong-willed, opinionated, and not someone most people would suspect of having a submissive streak. I saw it early on, and even though part of me thought it was simply wishful thinking, a little time proved me right.
Regardless, each time I give her an order when we’re not fucking, it unbridles a struggle within her. I don’t think it’s that she wants to say no, she just fights against her independence every time she says yes. It’s a beautiful struggle and one I’m incredibly grateful to receive the benefits of. She always thinks about telling me to go fuck myself—I can see it. But it turns her on even more to obey. I want that from her because every time she bends to my will, her addiction to me grows.
When she stands, slipping into her bikini bottoms but leaving the top behind, I know which part of her mind won the battle. Grabbing her by the hand, I pull her into the house toward the kitchen.
Fresh pineapple is wrapped up in the fridge from breakfast, along with pitchers of fresh pineapple juice and orange juice. I grab the pineapple and direct Greer to the well-stocked liquor cabinet. Three kinds of rum splash into the blender along with the pineapple, juice, and ice. As our drinks blend, Greer stands beside me with my arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Her voice is quiet when she speaks. “You asked who I wanted to be . . .”
I glance down at her face to see her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
“And?” I wonder where she’s going with this because her posture is rigid. I only have to wait a few more beats before she speaks again.
“What if I want this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This easiness. Like those years haven’t passed without us being together, and this is just our regular vacation. No ad, no press hounding us, no brother sending us away. Just . . . us. Being us.” She covers her face with her palm. “God, now I’m just babbling. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Warmth gathers in my chest, something I didn’t actually know was possible. I want what she wants. No guilt, no lies, no secrets. Just us together, and even better, pretending this is our normal. Our life. Fuck, I’d kill for that to be the truth.
“I’m not forgetting shit, because I want that too. You can have whatever you want, Greer. And if that’s what you want, then it’s all yours.”
“You don’t think that makes me sound crazy?” She seems shy and unsure, not at all like the confident Greer I see most often.
I squeeze her against my side. “I think it makes you sweet and fucking perfect.”
I turn off the blender and pour our drinks into two glasses. Handing one to Greer, I raise mine in a toast.
“To us.”
Her smile flashes brilliantly now as she clinks her glass against mine. “To us.”
Sometimes leaps of faith are rewarded with the best possible outcome you can imagine. Apparently being brave and telling someone what you want can actually be a good thing.
As I stand in the kitchen helping Cav make us lunch, my skin warm from the Belizean sun, I feel like I’ve gotten my reward. I finish chopping up veggies to toss in the salad, and he pours the shrimp he sautéed into a bowl. Let’s just say if I hadn’t already staked my pretend claim on this man, watching him cook would have the words tumbling out of my mouth.
“Another round of drinks?” he asks.
I’m already halfway to day drunk, so I’m more than on board. “Definitely.”
With efficient movements, he blends another pitcher, and I carry the salad and heaping bowl of shrimp out to the table on the patio. The Caribbean Sea is calm today, but that’s largely due to the barrier reef that’s not far offshore.
I can’t help but send a mental thanks to my brother for setting this up. I wish I knew whose house we were crashing, but I can’t get details right now. I checked my phone earlier, hoping the NO SERVICE label would have magically changed. It didn’t. No Wi-Fi connection either. I’m taking that as a blessing in disguise. Being completely cut off from the world is somehow liberating. It’s just Cav and me, on our own.
He joins me with the drinks, and we pile our plates full.
“How about we go out and explore the village for dinner?”
Taking a sip of the tropical drink—ah, heaven—I nod. “I like that idea.”
“I like the idea of being able to go out in public with you and not having to worry that either of us will be recognized. We owe your brother a thank-you, although I’m not sure he’s going to want to hear it from me.”
I reach for my fork and spear into a shrimp. “He’s probably already congratulating himself on this being an amazing idea because it gets me out of the way so effectively. Creighton doesn’t miss any chances to validate his genius.”
“You get along with him, though, don’t you?”
Chewing my mouthful of lunch, I pause before I answer. “Absolutely. He’s the most important person in my life. My aunt flakes out a lot, but I blame that on my uncle.”
Cav pauses as he reaches for his drink. “What’s your uncle’s story?”