After thanking the chef, we take a walk on the beach in silence, holding hands. I notice him stealing glances at me, but I ignore it. Occasionally, my hand will tighten when the wave rolls towards us, but he doesn’t act fazed.
“Ready to head home?” Home… He flexes his hold on mine.
Jerked out of my reverie, I turn to smile at him. “Yeah sure. After such an interesting dinner, I think we should walk.”
“And waste the food? Or the precious time you’re sparing me?” He stops walking, bringing out his phone, one hand left in his pocket.
“It’s not wasting.” I smile fondly, brushing aside his phone. “Don’t do that.” I know he wants to book a ride, but what better way to end this romantic night than to walk home?
He drops the hand holding the phone, then suggests, “How about we walk half-way then continue with a shuttle? It’s a win-win situation.”
Pretending to think about it, I fold my arms. He dips his other hand with his phone in his pocket, looking into the ocean, his profile to me. The man is adorable. “Since you put it that way, I think it works for me. I can’t wait to fall on my bed.”
He turns quickly to me, his eyes on mine, a shadow of vulnerability I’ve never seen in them. “I assumed you were coming to mine.”
“Why?”
“Mine’s closer.” He looks at his watch, then back at me, grinning, trying to play it light. “And it’s late.”
I shake my head. No way am I letting his sweet mouth talk me into going to his place again. I’ve had as much adventure as I should. Now that he’s told me an estimation of his net worth, he might think I’m with him for that.
“Please…” He comes closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’ve missed you like crazy Lola.” He whispers to my forehead. “Please come over. I promise to make it up to you.”
I shake my head.
“You’re more than an itch. Please?” He places his fingers on my chin, raising them up and I meet his lust filled eyes. He traces my lips with his thumb and my treacherous lips quiver with the desire to taste his lips one more time.
He gives a small laugh like he knows what’s happening inside of me. “Fuck. I’ve been barking at everyone all day. And been slapping myself for not seeing your message on time.”
I swallow. What is he saying? What is he promising? Is he confessing something?
Placing his second hand on my chin, I am forced to listen to his promises while I battle with my why. “I want to make it up to you. Please let me. I want to taste you again. Hold your hips while I pound into you. Please you till you lose control and shatter into a million pieces.”
Yeah. Make it up with sex. Good old sex. After all, we’re supposed to be having fun and the Queen of happily ever afters should know better than to think it is more than sex with someone like him.
I press my lips against his to shut him up. For a fleeting moment, I consider withdrawing, but his hands travel through my back, settling home on my ass—grabbing, squeezing. I moan into his lips.
Instinctively, I part my lips under his, wrapping my arms around his neck. He groans and my vaginal wall clenches, releasing more than enough juice for us to complete the makeup session he was begging for.
God help me. I heft myself off my feet, wrapping my legs around him, and he supports my weight, still holding on to my ass. We exchange our breath between urgent lips, our tongues fighting for control. Lips biting. My mouth devours his; my tongue stroking beneath his, the roof of his mouth, his lips, then back inside his mouth again.
It’s okay if our one-night stand becomes a fling. I’m not settling for less, just choosing to enjoy the moment.
I pull back, skimming along his lips, absorbing the moment.
I taste his smile as he says, “Still demanding.” He bites my lips and I giggle, every breath forcing juice out of my clit. “And still giggles.” The throaty vibration of his baritone causes my clit to clench and unclench, seeking his penis.
Leaning back, I admire the work of my lips as the moonlight illuminates his pink wet lips and causes shadows to form beneath his hooded eyes.
“Was that what you wanted?” I ask.
His response is to pull my lips back to his and plant a hard kiss on them. Like a full stop. The end. I giggle and he lets me slide down the length of him. His erection poking my abdomen.
Placing both hands on my smiling face, he brushes a thumb on my lower lip that’s sensitive from the bites he gave me earlier, shaking his head, like he can’t understand what’s happening to him. Me too!
He smiles, then pulls away. I miss his warmth already. “See that light over there? Beyond the trees?” It’s not so far. “First person to get there decides where we sleep tonight.” I’ll be a fool not to take advantage of him and our situation, to go back to my place.
“Bring it on.”
“On the count of three…”
Read the Lola and Onahi’s story in Escape, available on all digital platforms.
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