A Summer Affair

Chapter 1 ___ Arora's POV ___ Hi, my name is Arora Williams. I'm 29 years old and still single, but that doesn't bother me. I was the sole heiress to the Williams group until that fateful night. The evening my parents died, I became an orphan, a rich, well-provided-for orphan, but an orphan nonetheless. That night, I also became the head of the Williams Group, one of the most prominent companies in our area. The Williams group is the parent company to multiple subsidiary companies. However, running the company is not where my passion lies. My passion is in being Prof. Arora. I got my PhD at the age of 25, and I want to give back and impart the knowledge that I have to those willing to learn, helping them achieve greatness. I had to take control of our family company in an active role, not long after the night of my graduation, a few months at most. We have always had a solid foundation; my grandfather and father ran the company like a well-oiled machine. However, the board and top management became fuzzy after the sudden death of my parents. I'm sad about it, but firstly, I don't have time to live in grief, and secondly, I have never let emotions run my life, so I took two years after I got my Ph.D. and whipped the company, the board, and top management into shape. I came to Thailand for a summer holiday, away from everyone and everything, where no one knows who I am. This is my way of grieving the loss of both my parents in one miserable night. It was the night I celebrated my graduation, and it was supposed to be one of the best days of my life, but it became one of my worst. I graduated and came off the stage, took photos with my parents, and bid my friends goodbye for now as we were going to have a party later that evening after I'd had a celebrity dinner with my parents at one of our establishments. We were on our way, I was in the car behind them and watched helplessly as a drunk driver skipped the red light and drove straight into my parents. They both died on impact. I was devastated. I'm alone at the beachfront bar, also known as a Tiki bar. I took a sip of my cocktail, the mixture of peach, orange, and cranberry creating a symphony of flavors that I thoroughly enjoy. When this oh-my-word drop-dead gorgeous hunk came and sat next to me, every woman's wet dream. He reminds me of the South African 'Boerebull Wear' Calendar or, for those of you who don't know what you're missing, the equivalent of a fireman's calendar that uses men like him as their models. I took another sip of my cocktail to try and swallow the lump in my throat and moisten my suddenly extremely dry mouth. He has a tall, well-defined, semi-bulky frame with short dark hair and smoldering brown eyes, a short straight nose, full dark kissable lips with a smidgen of facial hair. He glanced at me, then at my drink, and said to the bartender, his protruding Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he talked. "The lady will have another S*x on the Beach, and I'll have a Tie Me to the Bedpost, and give us two Wet..." He paused, not finishing the sentence. I blushed; I also knew the name of the shooter he ordered. It's a wet lady part of a woman. He then turned to me and said, "Well, I hope the names of our drinks can become reality because I can't stand a fine woman like you sitting drinking alone. And I know you're not here with someone because I've had my eye on you since they first landed on you two days ago." Swallowing hard again, how do I respond to that? I locked eyes with him and said, "Oh, so now you expect me to fall for you after you just admitted to being a stalker? I don't think so, buddy." He smirked and responded confidently, "It's not stalking; it's doing one's homework to make sure I'm not hooking up with another dude's chick. But you, my dear, are no chick. You are all woman, and I would love to be your buddy, your bed buddy." Oh my gosh, he is smooth, and I definitely have the shooter's namesake happening. "You're quite presumptuous. What gives you the idea that I would even give you the time of day, let alone any of my time?" A mischievous smile played on his lips as he leaned in and brushed his lips against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. The chemistry is instantaneous and electric when he said, "Because you're intrigued, and I would guess turned on. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're currently sporting the shooter's namesake at the idea of us fulfilling one of the cocktail names." Leaning back, his eyes traveling over my body as if admiring the sight of me, I'm dressed in a thigh-length summer dress with a bikini underneath. Once his eyes came back and locked with mine, he said, "So, beautiful, what will it be? Your cocktail or mine?" I burst out laughing. "Do you think you can buy me a cocktail and a shooter, which I didn't ask for, and that gives you an all-access pass into my pants? I don't think so." His next statement had me a little flustered. "I never actually said that one of the shooters is yours, but you are more than welcome to have it, even though you have one already. But I will also gladly lap up all three." He is definitely making his intentions known, all cards on display. Confidence rolling off in waves. He knows what he wants, and he is determined to get it. But I don't accept any offers in business and life if there isn't anything in it for me. I look at him and state flatly, "You know if this—and that's a big IF—this happens, it will have an expiration date. There is no possibility for a future. I'm not interested in more, and furthermore, I'm not from around here." His eyes sparkling with triumph, he said, "So I take that as a yes. You will give me some of your time, and darling, any time spent with a beauty like you is worth it. I'm also not from around here either, so how about we make it a summer fling? We spend as much time as possible together till we leave on our separate ways. No promises, no regrets. Just fun in the sun. And s*x on the beach?" I laughed and nodded. The bartender brought out our drinks, and we both downed the shooter. Standing up, he took my hand and pulled me with him, then proceeded to put his arm around my middle. He leaned down and said, "Now you have two Wet... You know, I will need to catch up later," as he lowered his hand to my hip, inching closer to my core. I couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement mixed with nerves as his touch sent a jolt through my body. This was definitely not something I had expected when I came to Thailand to escape my reality. But there was something about this mysterious stranger that intrigued me. As we walked along the beach, the soft sand sinking beneath my feet as I had my sandals in my hand, I couldn't help but steal glances at him from the corner of my eye. His presence was captivating, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. It was as if every step we took together was bringing me closer to a world of exhilaration and adventure. We found a secluded spot on the beach, away from the bustling crowd, where we could have a conversation. However, I wasn't entirely convinced about the 'getting to know each other better', as he suggested. Personally, I preferred to maintain a certain level of mystery so that when we eventually went our separate ways, it would be a clean break. The crashing waves on the shore created a mesmerizing symphony that drowned out the sounds of the surrounding world. "So, Beautiful... I don't even know your name," he said, teasingly. I chuckled, sporting a mischievous smile, and replied, "And you're not going to. 'A' is the most I'll give you." He laughed, shaking his head lightly. "Alright then, beautiful 'A,' can I at least find out if it's the first letter of your name or if it's simply because it's the first letter of the alphabet?" I smirked, shrugging my shoulders, and nonchalantly said, "For me to know and for you never to find out." He burst into laughter and extended his hand towards me. "Nice to meet you, A. I'm Owen B..." But before he could finish saying his surname, I pulled him into a passionate kiss. It took him a moment to comprehend, but then he eagerly responded and pulled me closer, lowering me onto the blanket we were sitting on. Owen. The name seemed to suit him perfectly, evoking thoughts of dark intrigue and concealed depths. I couldn't help but be even more drawn to him. His hands enveloped mine in a firm grip, pulling both of my hands above my head, causing my dress to inch up higher on my thigh. Gasping for air in between kisses, he continued his tender assault on my jawline and neck, sending a wave of warmth coursing through me. "Pleasure to meet you, Owen," I managed to breathe out, still catching my breath as his lips barely left mine. "Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, beautiful A," he replied in a husky voice, brimming with lust, while gazing deeply into my eyes. Owen exuded an aura of confidence and charisma that was impossible not to be captivated by. He lowered his head and captured my lips once more. I tried to resist, but his determination was unwavering. He took both of my hands, which were still above my head, into one of his, freeing his other hand to explore my covered breast. The sensation of his fingers pinching my hardened pebble caused me to gasp and then moan, seizing the opportunity for our tongues to engage in a passionate battle for dominance. While his hand continued playing with my pebbled breast, I could also feel his arousal pressed against my thigh. Once we were both breathless, I managed to rasp out, "Hey, this isn't going any further until you've at least bought me dinner. A drink and a shooter would be a good start. Oh, and you get extra points for your good looks. But that can only get you so far, and definitely not any further." He looked at me with a wicked grin. "Oh, beautiful, I'll stop because you said so, but if I weren't the gentleman that I am, what would you do to stop me? We're quite secluded here, and based on the situation, I definitely have the upper hand." He pressed himself on top of me, reinforcing his position. I laughed heartily, which caught him off guard. "So you think you have the upper hand in this scenario? Do you want to test that theory?" Despite his confidence in his abilities, I may have bitten off more than I could chew, but I certainly knew my own abilities. "Okay, Miss A, what's in it for the winner? What do I get once I 'beat' this sexy ass of yours?" He smirked confidently. "You're extremely confident, and I like it. Okay, so the reward is this: the winner gets to request anything, and I mean anything s*xual from the loser. Additionally, the loser has to pay for our extra hotel room. You're not coming into mine, and I'm not going into yours, so we'll have a third space for our... let's call it entertainment," I explained, noticing the triumph and excitement twinkling in his eyes. "Deal, we can seal it with a kiss," he declared, leaning in to capture my lips once more. I indulged in this kiss, savoring the moment. When I finally released him, I swiftly maneuvered into a series of twists and moves, quickly trapping him in a triangle leg headlock. tapping my hip in surrender. "Where the heck did that come from?" He looked dumbfounded. In that moment of confusion, he appeared quite cute. "Never underestimate your opponent," I commented matter-of-factly. "But how... where... sh*t! Nevertheless, well done. I will gladly oblige any and every s*xual request that you have, beautiful. Oh, and I wouldn't mind being put in that headlock again, preferably with no clothes on," he suggested seductively as we strolled toward the hotel, his arm tightly wrapped around my waist. I couldn't help but laugh wholeheartedly.