4- Why Not
1038 Words
- Ellie
It was obvious we both felt relief in each other.
Bad move, my head said, but the other parts of me whispered, come on.
A bumbling drunkard grabbing my ass pulled my brain back to the forefront.
"Hands off," I hissed, reining the dumber parts of myself in.
"Oh, come on, baby, we’ll have a great time."
The moron who broke through the moment slurred from his now sitting position in the sand.
"I’ll have much more fun on my own, guaranteed."
I griped stiffly before turning to DJ.
"Thank you for the lovely evening,"
I dismissed myself, the intruder icing down my body and heart.
The whimsical part of me had felt the connection—knew there was something there.
A moment before I cursed myself.
When was the last time my gut was right about anything?
I heard him call after me, but I just kept moving.
DJ didn’t chase or follow me, thank goodness, and I got back to my suite with just enough energy to strip, shower, and go to bed.
Crying myself to sleep was more seventy-thirty anymore, but still common enough that I didn’t fight it.
Regardless of believing that I’d run out of tears a dozen times over.
No matter how great, how blessed my life was, there was that pesky wounded heart that always got in the way of it.
Scolding myself for the pity party I was throwing didn’t stop the hurt.
That empty hole in my heart constantly demanded I fill it with fresh tears to balm the sharp pains and pangs.
The morning came early, and with the prior night’s festivities, I decided room service was for me.
The balcony overlooked the ocean, and why not?
Eggs Benedict was always my favorite, but I was never brave enough to cook it due to the finicky nature of the sauce.
The hotel’s rendition was perfect. The rich hollandaise clung like velvet to the crisp muffin, and the poached egg burst open with buttery yolk.
Fresh fruit. Cold juice. The best coffee I’d ever had.
Strong, dark, and laced with notes of chocolate—just like my mystery man.
After a lazy moment and a content sigh, I made my way to the shower.
The double heads had incredible pressure, cascading hot water down my back, massaging away the ache in my shoulders.
I tilted my head back, letting it soak through my hair and run down every inch of my skin.
"You’re hogging all the hot water, Dove."
DJ’s incredible and all-too-familiar voice broke my daze, hitting me far deeper than the jetting streams could manage, no matter how great the pressure was.
"What the Sam Hill are you doing here?"
I sputtered, choking on my own spit as water flushed my face.
"Looks like we have an adjoining suite," the stranger explained, helping me to my feet.
He must have been enjoying the view based on the impressive reaction in his shorts. I couldn’t complain either.
The view of his bare chest alone was sinful—broad and bronzed, carved with lean muscle.
His thick thighs strained against soft fabric, and my brain short-circuited.
"Sorry, I wasn’t aware of that."
I snatched a towel around me as quickly as I could.
"You’re rather conservative for being in a nudist facility,"
He smirked, casually leaning against the double sink like he owned the space—and me.
"Wh-why do you say that?"
Damn it. I hadn’t stuttered since I was a kid. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was he so sexy?
When did I ever get weak in the knees over a man?
"You’re shy. Obviously innocent as hell, despite your little tough girl act."
His voice dipped, low and feral.
"Are you a sub, little Dove? Do you have an owner waiting for you?"
I froze. Caught somewhere between the delicious danger of his approach and the raw question.
"Hell no,"
I managed not to stutter on that one and quickly backed my ass out of the bathroom.
Not that he had any trouble following me, moving like a hunter.
"Calm down. I’m not trying to freak you out."
DJ raised his hands, palms up in a show of surrender.
"I’d just like to get to know you better."
"Why?"
The disbelief in my choked voice laid out every insecurity I’d ever tried to hide.
But my bitchier side stopped it right there, locking my feet in place and stiffening my spine.
"You are an enigma. And a gorgeous one at that,"
DJ clarified, his voice turning velvet.
"So no games, no tricks, just us. What do you say?"
There was as much sincerity in the comment as there was hunger in his eyes.
The long pause I gave him—he didn’t flinch.
"I’d be retarded to turn you down, and I’d be stupid to accept."
I managed to start breathing again.
"My taste in men speaks for itself, and I’m in a pretty f****d-up place right now."
"I’m right there with you, Dove,"
He said, stepping closer.
"Though I don’t think you’ve met a man yet."
He was bold. That grin of his—smug, knowing, confident—like he’d already made me moan in his fantasies.
"Get dressed. I’m taking you snorkeling. Bathing suits are optional."
"Excuse me?"
I wrestled with the heat in my cheeks and the way my pulse skittered.
"I planned to ask you last night before you ran off."
His grin turned wolfish.
"I have two tickets for an extended tour. It starts at eleven, and since you are the skittish type, I figured a command is easier for you to follow than a request."
"Wow,"
I muttered, stunned at how accurate—and arousing—that was.
His authority hummed against something deep and hidden inside me.
And maybe that pause, maybe the way I didn’t say no, was the only answer either of us needed.
Because if a hot guy wanted to take me snorkeling while on a once-in-a-lifetime getaway, who was I to say no?
The trip was supposed to be about forgetting my problems for a bit, wasn’t it?
Only question was if I’d feel that way in the morning?
- Writer
