Page 52 of Scandalous Secrets

“You’re so wet,” he whispered hoarsely as he watched the pleasure on my face. He was enjoying this as much as I was. I moaned into his mouth as my body tensed up. Every sensation from his touch shot through me like a firework. I released into his hand, twitching as I lay against the towel in the soft sand. I lay there breathlessly, unable to move, but Troy scooped me up and carried me toward the ocean.

At the water’s edge as I was draped over his strong arms, I looked up at him and shook my head in a quiet disbelief.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered.

“Giving you everything you deserve,” he said, kissing my lips as we waded into the warm water.

Chapter 24

Troy

Iwatched the snow fall softly against the large windows of my bedroom. The sky was a watercolor of navy and violet as the day welcomed night. The sound of distant traffic floated up, familiar as if it were welcoming me home.

I yawned and stretched my arms out carefully as not to wake Monica as she lay asleep on my chest. I checked the time on my phone, it was nearing 7 p.m. Knowing I had nowhere to be, I settled back in the warmth of my bed and her body. I ran my fingers through her long, dark hair as it splayed out over my bare skin.

It was strange to think we were in the Bahamas just this morning. Yesterday’s drunken beach day felt like a distant memory, but also left me with a pounding headache that still lingered right now. I barely remembered anything from the afternoon, except for lying in the sand with Monica and hearing her quiet moans in dangerous earshot of my sister. It had been risky, but I couldn’t help myself. The hot pink bikini she wore looked as if it were made for her. Its straps hugging the curves of her hips and the little fabric clinging desperately to what it could. It was a real effort to keep my hands off her, and I failed miserably.

We ended the night by going into town to grab dinner, the three of us. Somehow, we ended up at a sports lounge, eating chicken fingers and French fries, trying to ward off the hangover that was imminent. To our surprise, it was karaoke night. A pleasant surprise for Erica, who clapped giddily at the chance of holding the mic. Less of a pleasant surprise for me, who refused to get up on stage and sing in front of strangers, let alone Monica.

Erica ordered us some liquid courage in the form of shots that were lit on fire. Bad ideas in little glass cups. Afterward, she dragged Monica onto the stage to sing a horrible rendition of Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody,” while the rest of the bar and I cheered them on. They tried, and that was all that mattered. It was a memory I would probably hold on to for a long time. My sister’s arm was draped over Monica as they shouted into the shared microphone. I had never laughed so hard.

My laughter stopped when Monica put me in the lineup to sing Bruce Springsteen. I tried to refuse, but she gave me puppy dog eyes and it was impossible to say no. I had to order another one of those flaming shots, and boy was I feeling it now. I tried to block out that memory on stage. I am not a singer. Still, it felt freeing to be in a different country letting loose and not having to worry about anyone taking my picture and selling it to the press.

This morning, we all woke up hungover. It was worth it, though. Monica and I had flown back from the Bahamas mid-morning, leaving Erica to enjoy the solitude she had traveled there for. She said she would fly home the next day, saying she had taken a long weekend off from work. Watching her hug Monica goodbye and set up a happy hour date made me smile. I couldn’t remember the last time my sister liked anyone I was seeing.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Monica softly, looking up at me.

I hadn’t realized she had woken up.

“About how well you fit in my life,” I replied.

She smiled before reaching up to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

“What time is it?” she asked, blinking slowly as she looked out the window to see the sky had darkened since we had crashed here after our flight.

“It’s almost seven,” I answered.

“I should go,” she said, lifting herself up slowly and propping herself on her elbows.

“What’s the rush?” I asked, caressing the sides of her body softly, dangerously close to her bare breasts.

“Don’t you start, mister,” she said sharply.

“Start what?” I asked innocently.

“I know what you’re trying to do, but you can’t keep me here forever.”

“Wanna bet?” I asked, brushing my fingers over her nipples.

She let out a breathy laugh.

“I really have to go,” she groaned. “We work tomorrow. I haven’t been home in days.”

“Fine. If you must.” I sighed dramatically.

She pulled herself onto me, spreading her legs on either side of me before leaning down and kissing me. I felt her press her body against my growing erection through the sheets as she leaned in and whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She climbed off of me and off the bed, sauntering slowly away to pick up her clothes.

“You are the worst,” I groaned, watching her go.

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