“We’ve only had sex a few times.”
“We’re going to have it a lot more than that.” His grin deepened. “But I don’t think three days away from here will kill us. Do you?”
“Can I bring my laptop?”
“Only if you agree not to work on it all day.”
“Deal.”
The following afternoon, we drove for hours before he finally slowed the car and turned down a narrow, tree-lined road. The path curved like a secret, the branches arching overhead until they opened onto a breathtaking cove.
A sleek, black-glass cabin sat on a cliff overlooking a stretch of white sand and cold, gray-blue ocean. Every window reflected the sky.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, unbuckling my seatbelt and stepping out before the car had fully stopped.
Taylor laughed as I spun in a slow circle, the salt wind tangling my hair. “You like it?”
“‘Like it’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Inside, everything gleamed—white oak floors, steel-framed windows, and a wall of glass doors that opened onto the sea. The air smelled faintly of cedar and ocean spray.
“How much was this place?” I twirled around the living room in awe. “Do I even want to know?”
“No.” He set the car keys on the marble counter.
“I’ll take your word for it.” I crossed the room to the double doors and pushed them open.
The view hit me like a heartbeat—rolling waves crashing against dark rocks, streaks of sunlight breaking through the clouds. The sound of it was endless, steady.
He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His chest pressed warm and solid against my back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing.” I blushed as his lips grazed the curve of my neck. “I’m just… taking it in.”
“Hmmm.” His mouth brushed my skin again. “Let me help you with that.”
Before I could respond, he guided me down to the soft rug near the glass doors. The world outside blurred into mist and sea, and the only thing I could hear was the rhythm of his breath against mine.
Later, while Taylor showered, I FaceTimed Cecelia.
Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “Was it good? No—how long did it last?”
“Too long.” I felt my cheeks burning. “And it happened more than once.”
“Does he have a big cock?”
“Cecelia!”
“I just want to know!” She looked like a lovesick teenager. “Tell me!”
“It was— I mean, yes. Yes, he has a big cock.”
“I knew it.” She nodded, smug. “That’s why he looks so damn arrogant.”
“Right. Anyway?—”
“No, no, no.” She cut me off. “I don’t think so. Tell me the rest.”