Page 50 of Whiskey Throttle
Good sex.
That’s what she thinks this is?
The sentence rolls around in my skull. Louder than the waves outside. Louder than the blood rushing through my ears. I let out a chuckle.
Not because it’s funny. Because I need something to break the silence between her body and mine. She’s still lying here. Her cheek against my shoulder like nothing’s changed. Like she didn’t just drive a subtle little dagger between my ribs with a soft voice and a sideways smile.
I stare at the ceiling of the cabana. Watch how the linen flaps shift with the breeze pushing the ceiling fan blades. I don’t want to be a good lay when she’s lonely. A fun secret weekend with the younger guy she can box up in memory with her pearls. Not that I labeled what this would be. Fuck, if I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But damn, it could be more.
My throat aches from the lump forming there from misinterpreting every signal.
“Yeah.”
The word comes out flatter than I mean it to. She doesn’t notice. Or maybe she does and decides not to push. Either way, I feel myself pull back. Not physically, but something closes inside my chest. I offered her something more.
Not a ring.
Not a promise.
Potential.
She stamped it out with one little line. Put distance between us before it gets too real. Before she’s even had a chance to really live. And the bigger issue I keep shoving from my mind every time I breathe her in. Dom. I still haven’t worked out how all this would work with him. As much as I want her, I want him too. It’s fucking up my head.
I shift, just enough to slide out from under her. Her head lifts as I sit up, raking a hand through my hair.
“Why don’t we grab a shower?” I mutter, not looking at her. Needing to take the minute she took when coming into this cabana.
“Sounds perfect.”
“There’s an en suite in my studio. If you want to get started, I’ll join you after requesting lunch.”
The lie tastes like saltwater in my mouth. Bitter and cold. I’m not sure if I need space or if I’m being dramatic. All I know is that for the first time since this all started, I don’t feel like her equal. Not in the way I want to be. Not in the way I’ve made her feel. I feel cheap. Disposable.
Precisely like the women I used to toss aside without a second thought. The ones who looked at me with hope in their eyes the next morning, and got a half-hearted smile, a bullshit excuse, and a door quietly closed behind them. I didn’t think twice. Didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.
Now I do. Now I feel it. That same hollow ache I used to leave in my wake is cracking open in my own chest. I finally understand what it means to be wanted for a moment, but not for more.
It fucking guts me.
CHAPTER 14
BABS
Hollister helps me to my feet. My body aches from the amazing sex despite feeling sated and happy. I roll onto my toes, kiss him, and saunter out of the cabana. My hand drifts to the necklace. His sea glass nestled against my body.
I smile.
Never would I have taken those pearls off. Yet, how he did it and why he did it seemed so natural and right. Understanding what I needed more than I did. I tiptoe back to the studio. The smell of oil and turpentine greets me as I infiltrate his private sanctuary. Without him here, I peruse the various works cluttering the floor and propped up against every wall. I look through them. Some are better than others in different stages of completion. A few pieces are old, and the paint is cracked as if from experimentation. Several more are worthy of being hung and shown in their own exhibit.
I don’t spend too long. I have an eye for the development of curated works. By the time I step into the gentle water of the warm shower, I’ve already decided which pieces I’ll show and whose gallery I’ll show them in. Of course, I’d be the sponsor. My name guarantees top billing and high prices.
Something I’ll need to broach with him later today. Possibly over lunch. As I work my way through the shower, sure to clean every inch of my body and hair from salt water and body fluids, I think of him. How easy it is to be with him. His company is effortless, albeit his startling analysis by the pool sent me walking away from him.
But the sex is superb.
More vigorous and spontaneous than I could have imagined. His energy matches my desire. Men my age can only go once. Even that is sometimes the result of a little pill. It brings a smile to my face as I tilt my head back into the stream and rinse the conditioner from my hair.
This day has been a wonderful surprise, refreshing and invigorating. I’m glad I took a chance coming here. I wonder what else he has planned for us. Shutting off the luxurious marble shower, I grab clean towels from the heated bar mounted to the wall and wrap them around my body and hair.
