Surviving Us (10 page)

I kiss her forehead, thankful she’s not upset with me.

She pulls slightly away from me, glancing down at her wet, glistening breasts and then back up at me. “And I’m sorry, Mr. McKay, but my built-in weather gauges say this water is
cold,”
she jests, a wicked grin lifting the corners of her mouth, promptly shifting the mood back to playful and mischievous.

“I can help fix that for you,” I reply slyly, my fingers walking up her body from her hip, up out of the water to her chest, teasingly sliding just under the hem of her triangle top.

She slaps away my hand and crosses her arms over her boobs, lifting her eyebrows. “Mhmm, just like you
helped
whoever was in your room last night?”

Despite her attempt to hide the hurt in her voice with a joking tone, I know she’s upset because she thinks I took someone back to my place after I vanished from dinner, and typically, I wouldn’t really care
—I answer to no one. But she’s different.

“I’m not sure what you think happened last night, Bristol,” I lean forward, lightly rubbing my nose against hers, “but it didn’t. I told you yesterday afternoon what I wanted to do to
you
, and I’ve been patiently waiting for your answer.”

“But I heard you,” she argues, her anger from earlier reappearing. “I
know
you had someone else the—”

I gently place my finger over her lips to shush her. “Please let me explain. I promise I won’t lie to you. Ever. I may be a dick most of the time, but never a liar.”

Her expression softens and she relaxes in my arms, nodding to give me the go-ahead to speak. “When I returned to my cottage last night after dinner, I opened the door to find a five foot snake hanging out in the middle of my room, looking at me like
I
was in the wrong place. So naturally, I did what every normal guy would do and I screamed like a little bitch,” she giggles, “as I ran all the way back up to the office to tell them about it. One of the ladies who works here—I guess she’s the resident snake-wrangler or something—came back and removed it for me. That was it. Even afterwards, I must admit I didn’t sleep too well; I kept waking up thinking the snake had returned to reclaim its room or something.”

“A snake-wrangler?” she titters. “You know how that sounds, right?”

I tenderly kiss across her jawbone, desperately wanting to taste her mouth again. “I didn’t really think about it, but now that you mention it—” She lifts her mouth to mine, softly brushing her wet lips across my own as we lazily drift in the relaxing water. “If you want to be my snake-wrangler, Trouble, all you’ve gotta do is ask.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN
I look like a prune?” I ask before taking a bite of the best fish taco I’ve ever tasted. They’re also the only fish tacos I’ve ever tasted, so my assessment may be a little skewed, but Davis says he’s had them from all over, and these are definitely the best.

“Look at your fingers,” he says, grabbing my free hand and flipping it palm up. “See how the tips are shriveled up like a prune. You’ve never heard that before?” He stares at me with bewilderment.

“Nope.” I toss the last piece in my mouth with a satisfied grin, licking the sticky juices that had leaked out from my fingers. I watch his gaze drop from my eyes to my mouth, so I purposely swirl my tongue around the tips a second or two longer than needed, then remove them with a loud pop.

Davis inhales a deep breath and shakes his head with a knowing smile as he relaxes back in his chair. “Gonna get yourself in trouble, Trouble.”

That’s what I’m hoping for.

Davis and I spent an hour or so out in the water, which was mainly me jumping around and squealing about the colorful fish I could see swimming around our legs and him laughing at my ridiculous behavior. We wrestled around for a bit, each of us stealing touches and kisses as often as we could. Then, when my stomach growled four times in less than a minute, we came up to the restaurant to grab a quick bite to eat. I’d attempted to order the cheeseburger, but Davis insisted I try something I’d never had back home, and now that I’ve quickly polished off three tacos, I’m sure glad he did.

“What time do we have to meet for afternoon groups?” he asks, looking around for a clock.

“At five, why? What time is it now?”

“Three-thirty. We’ve still got a little time.”

“I need to head up soon to take a shower and get dressed.” I take a big drink of water, my body craving the cold liquid from being out in the heat. “Do you know who’s in your group this afternoon?”

He shrugs his shoulders with a roll of his eyes. “I looked at the names, not that they mean anything to me. Kinda like this morning, my session was with Peyton, so naturally I was expecting a guy, and this lady comes up saying she’s my partner.”

Laughing, I reach out and soothingly touch his hand. “So how was it? Your one-on-one with her, I mean. Did you get anything out of it?”

“Not really. She did most of the talking.” He sighs and interlaces our fingers, staring at our joined hands. “I don’t understand how all of us talking about the shitty things we’ve been through helps anything. It’s depressing and only makes me remember things I want to forget.” Abruptly breaking our touch, he stands up and looks away. “We should probably get going.”

I decide to drop the topic for now, but fully intend to bring it up again later.

“Okay,” I slide off my chair, keeping a smile on my face. “Would you mind walking me to my cottage, Mr. McKay?” I ask playfully, trying to lighten the mood back to where it was.

He grabs my hand and pulls me up next to him, gently kissing my lips. “Why, Miss Criswell, are you inviting me to share your heavenly shower with you?”

My stomach flutters and thighs clench together at the mere thought of showering with him. Nipping at his bottom lip, I whisper throatily, “Only if you can keep your snake to yourself. There’s not enough time for wrangling and getting ready.”

I pivot on my heel and sassily sashay away, only to be lifted up seconds later, thrown over his shoulder with my ass in the air.

“Put me down!” I yell, giggling uncontrollably, swatting his butt as he strides towards the chair with my beach bag. “There’s no way you can make it all the way up the stairs with me like this.”

“Did you just issue me a challenge?” He scoops up my bag onto his opposite arm, then strides towards the staircase, still not letting me go. “You need to learn real quick, Bristol, that I
never
back down from a challenge.”

True to his word, Davis carries me up all one hundred and sixty-six steps and down the dirt road, finally setting me back on my feet outside my cottage. Very much out of character, he offers a jovial hello to everyone we pass en route, as if he’s not lugging me around like a sack of potatoes, while I squeeze my eyes shut, cheeks burning with mortification.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” I say, secretly a little sad not to be in his arms any longer, appreciating the defined muscles in his back.

He reaches his arms over his head, stretching left then right, wearing a devilish grin. “I’ll let you massage the knots out tonight after dinner.”

“Oh, you’ll
let
me, eh?” I snort a laugh. “How kind of you. Does this mean you’re not coming in now?”

Bending down, he lowers his face to mine as he slides his hand around my back, pressing our bodies together. “If I step in that cottage with you right now, there’s no way in hell I’m keeping my hands, mouth, or anything else to myself,” he lightly brushes his lips against mine, “and when I finally do take the rest of you, Bristol, I don’t want any time restraints. I want to watch you fall apart underneath me over and over again until I’m positive you’ll never forget how I feel buried deep inside of you.”

Holy shit.

I swallow hard, my body tingling all over in anticipation, and take a step back. I need to get away from him before I internally combust. “I guess I’ll see you later then.” I smirk, spinning around to walk to the door. “Oh, Davis,” I look over my shoulder, his eyes staring at my ass as I retreat, a rare surge of self-confidence flowing through me, “I hope I’m not limited to being ‘underneath’, ‘cause I can be all kinds of
trouble
when I’m up on my knees.”

He runs his hand over his barely-there hair, exhaling a deep breath of self-restraint. “Get your ass inside. Now.”

Clean, dressed, and in a great mood, I arrive at the main house a little before five, where Pilgrim, the regular bartender, greets me with another of his delicious fruity cocktails. “Good afternoon, Miss Bristol,” he says with a bright smile, handing me the chilled glass. “The others are out by the pool, enjoying the fresh air.”

“Thank you.” I return the smile and join the others on the veranda.

Ashleigh, Charlotte, and a few others are all standing around mingling while they wait for the rest of the group to arrive. I make my way over to them and hug my two friends, then introducing myself to Ethan, a thin, older man with dark sunglasses, and Peyton, an attractive redhead, fortyish, who I now know spent the morning with Davis. A twinge of something that resembles jealousy pricks at me, and I immediately scold myself; I’m
not
an envious person. My life has been far from ideal, but I’m thankful for the blessings I have—so thankful, I often feel guilty to even be alive.

“I’m glad to see you back right-side up, Bristol,” Ashleigh jokes. “You think your friend will carry me up the stairs tomorrow?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I’m positive the accompanying blush is brighter than the pink stain from being out in the sun today. Charlotte’s knowing grin and nod of her head tells me she’s proud of me, but she says nothing.