Page 50 of Promise Not To Fall

“Yes.” His arm tightens, squeezing me to his side. “You’ve ruined me. In just three days, you’ve fucking ruined me,” he whispers in an almost teasing manner, but still, it feels as if there’s truth in his words. “I’ll never be the same. I’m always going to want a woman telling me what to do.” He groans, his lips pressing to my temple. “Tell me something dirty,” he demands, growling in my ear, his hands low on my back now and going lower.

“Kiss my cheek.”

“That’s not dirty.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It could be. You don’t know which cheek I was referring to.”

He laughs, low and throaty. “I’ll kiss yourasscheek if you let me stick my dick in your ass.”

“Oh, now see, don’t get greedy.”

“I’m not greedy.” The contours of his body press against mine. “I’mhorny. There’s a difference.”

“We’ve already done it twice today, dude.”

“That’s not nearly enough when it comes to you.” He twirls me then, spinning me to face him as we pass by a live band on the street, his hips swaying with the palm trees.

Laughing, I gaze into his eyes and helplessly fall a little more for island life and this guy who knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

As we dance in the street, his damp hand slides to the nape of my neck and draws me in for a kiss. Every one of his kisses gets me. I don’t want to get attached to this feeling I have, but this Jake drug addiction isn’t going to be an easy habit to break. Time isn’t on my side, and falling deeper is inevitable the more time I spend with him.

We end up going to Jake’s house after the straw market, and I change into my dress. He says he’s taking me to dinner. I’m literally only in his house long enough to change, and then he’s pushing me out the door. I have a feeling he doesn’t want me seeing it. I do get a peek at it though. It’s a small house, light blue with no lawn, just dirt and one palm tree outside the one window that faces the street. Inside were what looked to be two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. And that was all I saw. No pictures on the walls, no homey feel to it, but I’ll give him this, it was tidy.

Unsure why he didn’t want me seeing it, I don’t press for details and instead go with it.

We have dinner at a small street-side café, but that isn’t what catches my attention. It’s the walking on the beach and our conversation.

“So you spent the day with me, took me to lunch and dinner, now a romantic stroll on the beach.” I bump into his shoulder as we walk, rocking him slightly. “Some would think this is adate.”

“Don’t think,” he says, the sun behind his head so I have to squint to see his face. “Just enjoy this for what it is.”

And that is?Smiling, I continue to squint at the sun hanging low in the sky, the air thick with humidity, my mind wandering.

My voice is a strained whisper as I ask, “What is this, then?”

Jake shrugs one shoulder, the corners of his lips twitching, but it doesn’t appear to be from amusement. “It’s whatever you want it to be.” We stop walking, and he pulls his hand away from mine, cupping my cheek. Tipping his head to one side, his bottom lip catches between his teeth. “Anything you want,” he says, simply, leaving me with a choice.

My heart jumps in my throat, unsure what he’s talking about. I think he’s avoiding the question… or playing with my head. Not sure. “And what does it mean to you?” I hint, needing to know. I desperately need him to just say it.

But he doesn’t, because he wouldn’t be Island Boy if he didn’t mess with me. Dropping his hand, he traps me in his stare again, his silence unnerving. I take a deep, shaky breath, waiting.

A smirk plays on his lips. “I think youknowwhat it means to me.” And then he starts walking again, dragging me with him by my hand.

We continue our path up the beach until we’re at the same part of the beach where we’d been the last two nights. My hotel to my left, his life and whatever that holds to the right. The sun has long set, night taking over, and I can’t think of anywhere in the world more perfect than right here, with him.

Instead of going back to my hotel, he sits down in the sand, which surprises me. It’s nearing ten, and he doesn’t seem to want the night to end.

Tucking my dress under by butt, I sit next to him. “Is it always so beautiful here?”

“No, not always. The season is actually from December to May. Hurricane season is June to late November. It’s not that beautiful then.”

“Are there many hurricanes?”

Leaning forward, he picks up a handful of sand and lets it sift through his fingers. “Not a lot. Florida gets more than we do.”

“What’s spring break like?” Again, I think I’m nervous because I tend to switch conversations quickly when I’m nervous. Like now.

“Wild. Parties, naked girls, asshole frat boys.” He sighs, almost sounding annoyed. “I hate spring break here. Everybody gets stupid and makes irrational decisions.”

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