Page 8 of OneTime Lovers
Blake chuckles as he leans into Luke to say, “When he says ladies, he means one lady in particular, and with the way Jas batted away his approaches this afternoon, we have our entertainment sorted for the evening.”
Blake’s observation as always is spot on. Jas was definitely not interested in my offers of help on the beach.
It’s an odd experience, as I’m used to women falling all over themselves to get my attention. Not Jas, she’s uniquely unaffected and I’m intrigued.
“Blake, you’re just envious of my obvious charms,” I affirm as I pick up a fresh cold beer from the ice bucket, then deliberately ignoring the guy’s laughter, I stroll across the lawn toward the girls.
They are standing, silhouetted at the beach end of the pool drinking fruity cocktails as the sun sinks below the horizon.
Jasmine is a little off to the side of the other two, leaning against a low stone wall as she gazes out at the ocean. The last of the sun’s rays are catching her hair, making it glow like fiery flames falling in soft waves over her bare shoulders.
Tonight, she’s wearing a tight, strapless red dress, which hugs her body. The mini hemline finishing only a couple of inches below her curvy butt cheeks.
I don’t know if I prefer green bikini-clad Jasmine or red cocktail dress Jasmine. She’s as vibrant and pretty as the exotic birdlife on the island, a vision, and I drink her in.
It’s been a long while since a girl has grabbed me by the balls and dragged my attention around behind her in such a dramatic way.
I move to stand beside her. She turns her head slightly, the only acknowledgment before returning her gaze to the view.
The ensuing silence has me saying provocatively, “Did you wear that sexy red dress to match tonight’s sunset … or is it to tempt me?” A comment that will either get me slapped or be the start of some fun banter. I hope it’s the latter.
She turns again, rolling her eyes at me. But this time instead of the expected smackdown, she tilts her head slightly and muses, “You think it’s sexy, interesting …. What if I said I wore this dress because I like to feel sexy for me?” I like her response.
“Then maybe I’m tempted even more,” I tell her. It’s the truth.
She knows she’s sexy, and I’m sure she knows I’m interested, so there’s no point denying it. A woman who is bold enough to do her own thing, not worry about what other people think or feel about her, is certainly interesting. Confident women do turn me on.
Even in her black strappy stilettos tonight, she looks up at me, eyes wide and a slight twitch of her pouty glossy lips. But instead of another witty retort, she clinks her cocktail glass to my beer.
Have I won this round?
She takes a sip from her frosted tall-stemmed glass, and it’s hard not to notice the way her ruby red lips leave a sexy imprint on the rim.
I quench my sudden thirst with a large gulp of my own drink, hoping it will cool me down from the inside out. But when she puts her hand on her hip, licks those lips, and looks up at me through thick long lashes, no amount of cold beer is going to extinguish the fire building in my gut.
There has been a mood change with her since she swam to shore, obviously pissed at something I did. Maybe it’s the cocktails that have made her mellow.
With a flick of her hair, she switches up the conversation again. “What is it about former military guys? You all seem to be super-sized?”
I nearly choke as I swallow my mouthful of beer. Only just managing to avoid spraying it everywhere. Not a good look. I’m learning that this woman likes to say the unexpected. It’s making me dizzy, in a good way.
Bending so I can be closer to her, I whisper in her ear, “That’s me––super-sized all over.”
She surprises me again with the unexpected as she boldly looks down at the front of my cargo shorts, saying, “We’ll see.”
Wow, that’s hot. Laughing, I gasp out, “You only need to say the word.”
Her feisty replies to my comments make me wonder if she’s leading me on … or up for a little one-on-one time over the next few days. Sexual tension zaps like bolts of electricity between us, and it might be fun to find out how well it translates into the bedroom.
The head waiter interrupts us with an announcement that dinner is ready. The deep, mauve sky is quickly darkening to night, and we walk over together to join our friends.
A long table has been set out on the lawn and it’s covered with a vibrant local batik tablecloth, candles, and an abundance of tropical flowers. Tall bamboo tiki torches planted into the grass surround the casual dining area, the flickering flames providing a warm glow as the sky darkens.
The caterers have also set up a buffet table in the nearby cabana which is piled with more food than the six of us could possibly eat. The grilled steaks along with a whole baked grouper fish, and a variety of tropical fruits and salads look delicious and my stomach rumbles appreciatively. I take up a plate and begin to fill it. All the swimming and sunshine this afternoon has given me an appetite. When there isn’t a lot of space left on my plate, I wander over to the vacant seat beside Jasmine.
Politely, I ask, “Do you mind if I sit here?”
She waves her hand toward the chair nonchalantly. “Sure. Help yourself.”
