“You’re cute,” he drawls. “So fucking cute, baby.”
I scowl at him. “And you’re deflecting.”
“Never.” He bats his eyelashes, and I can’t help laughing. He’s just too adorable like this.
“I don’t believe you.” I lean in and bite his chin.
“Ouch! You little brat.” His eyes darken, heat flashing in them. “What color?” he near-pants, before pressing a kiss against my shoulder.
I shiver at his open display of affection in the middle of the day on a public beach. No one seems to care, though; people too engulfed in their own business, local families picnicking, children building sandcastles, their parents napping under colorful parasols.
“Lime green,” I sigh, and Caleb’s deep moan echoes against my skin.
“Lime green, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Baby, you’re gonna look so fucking good in lime green with that tan of yours.” He shifts against me, a small telltale sign that I’m not the only one getting hard. My man is borderline obsessed with my tan lines, spending way too much time tracing them with his tongue, peppering kisses along them every night, whispering sweet nothings against my skin, while I die a slow torturous death waiting for him to fuck me into the mattress.
“I know,” I tease. I brought ten jockstraps on our vacation, one for each night, all in different colors, and Caleb asks me every day what tonight’s color is. And he doesn’t just ask me once, no, he keeps asking me throughout the day, not because he’s forgetful, but because it’s Caleb’s special kind of foreplay, reminding both him and me what is going to happen later, in the darkness of our hotel room. I’ve never felt so desired, so sexy, so masculine before. Caleb makes me feel that way every day, all the time, when he looks at me like he’s looking at me right now. At night, he kisses me again and again, whispering,I love you, K. I love you so fucking much, my special K,before he goes down on me, bringing me to places I never knew existed, then later takes my ass, pulling another orgasm from my sated body.
Caleb shakes his head. “You’re gonna kill me. Someday you’re gonna kill me.”
I just laugh, because he’s fucking killing me too, every time he looks at me like this.
“I thought we’d stay in tonight, have dinner on the balcony. I asked Camila to cook us something special, and her face lit up like a damn Christmas tree.”
Camila is the owner of the hotel we’re staying at. She runs it with her husband Santiago, their daughter Sofia, and son-in-law Diego. During the day, Santiago and Diego go off on their small fishing boat, and at night, Camila cooks these amazing seafood dishes for the guests at the small restaurant downstairs. We’ve been eating there most nights, but having dinner brought to our room sounds divine, since we’re leaving early tomorrow morning with Santiago and Diego on the boat trip.Yesterday we went on a long hike with a local guide, looking at wildlife and visiting the waterfalls, and my thighs are killing me. I don’t think I could’ve dragged my ass up and down the stairs tonight even if I’d wanted to.
“Sounds amazing, babe.” I close my eyes against the sun, leaning my head against Caleb’s shoulder.
“Good.”
“I’m so happy we came here. I never wanna leave.” I hold out my wineglass across the small table on the balcony, and Caleb meets me halfway, clinking his against mine, the aquamarine glass sparkling in the candlelight.
“Yeah, me neither.” He smiles, a sated look on his face. His hair has that sexy, messy beach look where you just want to tug at the strands, and his cheeks are glowing from being in the sun all day.
“I know Mom was worried that we went off the beaten track a little, but I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
“I know. We have to come back. Maybe next year.”
I nod. I want to travel the world with Caleb, hitting one small piece of paradise after another. Being in new places no longer scares me because wherever I go, I’m with him, my Caleb.
“Ready for dessert?” he asks, and my mind immediately goes to the gutter.
“Thought you’d never ask.” I waggle my eyebrows, and he shakes his head, his bangs tumbling into his eyes.
“You’re impossible, you know that, right? I meant actual dessert, you know.”
“Oh. I guess I’ll just have to suffer through it then.”
“Camila made usTres Leches.”
“I’d rather have yourleche.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Caleb groans, then stands and walks inside, and I ogle his ass shamelessly. He returns with a small tray with pieces of fluffy looking cake arranged on two plates. There’s thick white frosting on top, decorated with chocolate-covered strawberries and pineapple.
“Well, I guess I can go for dessert before dessert,” I grin,licking my lips.