Surviving Us (15 page)

His hand stops moving. “I asked what
your
favorite movie is. Answer me and I’ll continue.”

“Um, um,” I stutter in my lustful haziness, “Titanic.”

Thankfully, he begins his ministrations again. His fingers delve even deeper than before, curling up to stroke my inner wall, damn near driving me out of my mind as his thumb presses forcefully against my sensitive nub.

“I knew you were secretly a hopeless romantic at heart,” he chuckles, kissing along my jawline as his thrusts grow faster and more intense.

“Davis, please, I’m gonna—” The words trail off as the orgasm claims me. My legs clamp down around his hand as my entire body trembles with blissful rapture, succumbing to the overwhelming physical pleasure he offers me.

“That’s it, Bristol baby,” he whispers throatily. “Let me see you come apart in my arms. Show me how good I make you feel.”

For several minutes, we stay in that same position, both of us breathing hard, neither of us talking. Eventually, he eases his fingers out of me and spins me around in his arms so we’re face-to-face. Bending his head down, he kisses me deeply as we continue to cling to each other.

As we break apart, he rubs his nose against mine and smiles widely. “I’ve got a surprise for you after dinner that you’re gonna love.”

AFTERNOON SESSION AND DINNER
can’t pass fast enough.

After Davis and I grab a quick bite to eat for lunch, we return to our rooms to shower and change. He refuses to tell me what the surprise is, no matter how much I beg, which drives me crazy with anticipation, but excites me just the same.

During the session, Kayden is obviously still reeling over the exchange with Davis at breakfast, because he’ll barely make eye contact with me, much less hug me or sit next to me. Instead, he and Peyton spend the hour-and-a-half flirting and comparing their sophisticated East Coast lifestyles. I tune them out for the most part, analyzing the different types of flowers surrounding me in the gardens, satisfied neither of them attempts to engage me in the conversation.

Dinner is a little better than the previous night. Davis and I end up sitting with Ashleigh and Charlotte again, but the rest of the group is people I haven’t gotten to know very well yet. The conversation is light and easy, both Davis and I chiming in from time to time, but I’m truly more focused on
finishing
the meal to see what he’s planning. As soon as our plates are taken from the table, we politely excuse ourselves, wishing everyone a good evening as we leave the dining room.

The moment we step outside into the warm, tropical air, he takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, lightly kissing my knuckles. “Come on, we have to go down to the beach. They’re waiting for us.”

“They? Who’s waiting?” I ask as we begin the walk down the stairs, which isn’t nearly as easy at night in a floor-length sundress as it is during the day.

He doesn’t speak until we make it all the way down to the beach, where he turns around to gage my reaction as I see what’s waiting for us. “You aren’t scared of boats are you? I’m sorry; I didn’t even think to ask beforehand. I just wanted to surprise you.”

My mouth hangs open at the massive, gorgeous sailboat anchored right off shore, which I assume is waiting for us. “No, I’m not scared of boats,” I reply, still standing frozen in the sand in awe of the vessel out in front of me. “Well, not that I know of. I’ve only been on a canoe and a little paddleboat before.”

“Good,” he grins, tugging my arm to follow him, “I was hoping this would be a first for you. I didn’t figure they had a lot of sailboats in Oklahoma.”

We stride across the beach to where Ron and JT, our new friends from the beach, are waiting at the shore with a small motorboat. “Good evening, my lady,” Ron says to me with a tip of his head. “Go ahead and give it to her, man,” he instructs his friend.

JT steps towards me, holding out a beautiful green and yellow beaded bracelet and matching necklace. “We made these especially for you,” he explains as he puts them on me, “just like your man asked.”

I peer up at Davis, my eyes full of questions. “Green and yellow, both of our favorite colors together. I thought you might like it,” he explains.

“Like it?” I lunge at him and kiss him hard, not caring two other people are right next to us. “I absolutely love it. Thank you.”

His eyes light up with a smile. “Now let’s go see the rest of your surprise. I’m excited.”

The locals motor us from the beach out to the sailboat, where another man awaits us. Davis hoists himself up into the larger vessel, then turns around and helps me up as well. Ron waves and tells us he’ll see us in a couple of hours before heading back towards shore.

“Good evening,” the middle-aged local welcomes us onboard with a smile. “The name’s Uncle Oscar, and I’ll be your captain for the night. A few things I’ll go over, then we’ll get moving.”

He walks over to the giant wooden steering wheel and motions for us to follow. “You’re welcome to move about the boat; just please stay away from the sides when we’re in motion. There’s a bathroom below deck, as well as a small resting area and kitchenette.” He points to a narrow set of stairs descending into the cabin area. “My wife has made you a plate of cheese and fruit in the refrigerator, and there is also wine and champagne onboard, and bottled water too. We won’t travel too far off the coast because it’s night, but I’ll take you up and down this side of the coast. Please ask any questions you may have, and finally, if you feel you’re going to be sick, please make it over the side or into the toilet. I’m not a fan of cleaning up after others.”

“Perfect,” he responds, looping his arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. “We’re ready when you are, Oscar.”

Minutes later, we’re traveling at a low speed through the calm seas, and Davis is leading me around the boat, teaching me the different terminology of each of the parts and explaining what they all do. Honestly, it’s an information overload, and by the end of the tour, all I can really remember is the mainsail, the jib, the mast, and the boom. I hope there’s not a quiz at the end of the ride.

“How do you know so much about this stuff?” I ask, amazed at his seemingly limitless knowledge on the subject.

“My dad used to sail a lot when I was a kid.” He sits down on a padded bench facing out the front of the boat, patting the spot between his legs for me to join him. “We have a beach house in Galveston, which is only a few hours from our house, and we used to go there at least two or three weekends a month during the summer. My sisters never wanted to go out with him
—they always said it was too much work—so he and I spent quite a few hours on the water together.”

I pull my knees to my chest, curling up in his lap. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Two, both older,” he replies. “They’re both married with kids now. What about you?”

Shaking my head no, I murmur, “Nope, just me and my granny.”

He envelops me in his arms, trailing kisses across my shoulder. “I bet your granny is a pretty cool lady to have raised someone like you.”

“She’s the best.”

For the next several minutes, we remain quiet, both of us absorbing the mesmerizing setting surrounding us. The faint lights from the island appear to be quite a good distance off, enhancing the canopy of twinkling stars blanketing the sky and the lustrous glow of the crescent moon hanging overhead. Soft waves crashing against the boat mixed with the muted instrumental piece playing down in the cabin create an ambiance I only thought existed in books and movies. I truly feel like I’m living in a fairytale in this moment.

“I never expected this when I came . . . never expected you,” I whisper, my eyes glued to the glimmering heavens, afraid to see the expression on his face at my confession.

He tightens his arms around me, cuddling me closer as he burrows his face in the back of my neck. “Me neither, Bristol. Me neither.”

“I’ve felt more alive in the past few days than I have in the past twelve years.” I take a deep breath and twist around to face him, straddling his lap. “I don’t want to go home. I’m afraid I’ll feel dead inside again, and I
like
feeling alive.”

“We still have ten more days; don’t worry about that now.” His light brown eyes plead with mine. “Let’s enjoy the time we have. More than anyone, we of all people should understand no one is guaranteed tomorrow.”

I rest my forehead against his, rubbing my hands over his short hair, allowing my lips to linger close enough to his that we share a breath. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re too sexy
and
smart for your own good?”

“Most people don’t get past the sexy.” He nibbles on my bottom lip, grinning deviously. “Let’s go downstairs and get a snack and a glass of wine before I strip you and take you right here in front of Uncle Oscar.”

For the next hour-and-a-half, we eat, drink, joke, and make out under the stars right up until the time the sailboat returns to the beach in front of Ti Kaye, where the guys are waiting for us in the little fishing boat. We thank Oscar over and over again for the incredible trip; I even see Davis tipping him a wad of money as we disembark, earning him even more brownie points in my book. Generosity is an undervalued characteristic in our society today, so many people do it only for the notoriety and not to really help out those who need it. Deep down, he’s not even close to the dick he pretends to be.

Leisurely strolling back to our cottages, we pass several familiar faces including Charlotte, Lynnette, and Isaac, who are sitting around the open-air bar. “You want to go have a drink with your friends?” Davis asks, nodding his head in their direction. “I don’t mind if we stop.”

I smile up at him, shaking my head. “No, I’m ready to get in the plunge pool with you, but I appreciate the offer.”

We wave at them as we walk by. I’m sure they’re all making their own assumptions about what is going on between us, most of which are probably spot on, but I can’t worry about what others think. I just have to focus on feeling alive . . . one day at a time.