Danica Williams: Hot Vacation

Strangely, her words struck something inside him. “What comes after, Lily?” He hardly recognized his own voice.

A light shrug of her gently rounded shoulders, then, “Only you know, August Lang. Maybe you start fresh or you fix what was broken. Or,” she paused as she stood, patting his hand that sat clenched on the scarred wood table, “you allow the bad, the anger or sadness, to hold you prisoner and it colors the rest of your life.”

“I can’t fix it.” He hadn’t realized he’d turned his hand to hold her fingers. “I don’t want to fix it but I am angry. So angry.”

Sliding her hand more fully into his, she whispered, “Then you may as well be still in the bad place. Your anger keeps it new, raw like a wound you keep opening.” Removing her hand, she squeezed his shoulder and headed back to the kitchen, adding, “Eat, August Lang. Soak in the smell of the ocean, the warmth of the air, and enjoy the best tacos in Puerto Vallarta. Try not to think too hard, yes?”

Thirty minutes later, he’d finished his food and sat staring out over the water, replaying Lily’s words in his mind while he sipped his second beer. That a stranger saw him so clearly was unnerving. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t deny what she’d said.

He was so angry it was like still being married to Madeline. She’d kept him off-balance and frustrated from the beginning and he’d let her. Except for the divorce proceedings, he hadn’t spent time with her in almost eight months. Why was he still so furious? It wasn’t as if his heart was broken. Theirs had never been a great love story, more like a business merger.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Lily wait on other customers, talking to all of them and making them smile. She touched often, patting a hand, ruffling a young boy’s hair, giving a kiss to an elderly man who seemed to know her well. August had never met anyone like her. She was so…relaxed. Free in a way he had never been.

He was so hard for her, it bordered on painful.

He lost track of her for a moment and she appeared at his side holding a basket of pastry that smelled of honey and cinnamon. “Something sweet, August. To remind you that it still exists.” She took a seat again and stared at him for a long moment. The stocky cook came and placed a plate in front of her. She thanked him and they spoke too quickly for August to have a hope of following along. The man didn’t seem happy.

When the man returned to the kitchen, she put together tacos and ate daintily. “Is everything alright? I don’t want to get you fired, Lily.”

Her laugh washed over him warmly as she said, “Marcio is my brother, August. He cannot fire me and he would not since I do most of the cooking in the morning.” Sipping a glass of water, she ate quietly for several minutes and August suddenly realized he’d never just sat quietly with a woman without awkwardness. This seemed…natural. “He does not like me talking to male tourists.”

“Why not?”

“August Lang, my last relationship was six years ago. A man much like yourself came here to heal, he said his wife had left him with a broken heart. He was here for a month. Enough time for his wife to arrive. He’d lost a lot of money in Las Vegas and came here to hide. She had not left him as he claimed. I was happy when he left and very angry.”

Feeling like the air was being sucked from the room, August asked, “How old were you?”

“Nineteen. Young, yes, but I should have known better.” She shrugged her shoulders and gave him one of her warm smiles. “I am not bitter but I naturally avoid falling into the same trap.” Her fingertip traced the condensation on the side of her glass, the silence stretching out until she met his eyes again. “Three months after he left, I found out I was pregnant. My daughter is five now, August. I am familiar with the consequences of giving in to what feels good.”

Leaning forward, she whispered, “You will leave, August, and go back to your life. I’m no longer a young girl and I would like to spend time with you while you are here. Catriona is staying with her grandmother up the coast this week.”

“Can you come with me now?” he asked her, shocked at the need pounding through his voice. She nodded and he gave her money for lunch. When she returned from the back, her narrow apron was gone and a small pouch-like bag was slung over her shoulder. Holding his hand out, she took it and let him lead her outside.

He didn’t rush but August realized he moved much faster back to his small cabana than he had going to lunch. He never let go of her hand. Now that they were both standing, he realized she was around five-five, maybe a little less, and it made him feel more masculine than ever in his life. All of his reactions to her were strong, none of them familiar.

They stepped from the sand to the back porch and he didn’t slow down. Opening the door, tugging her inside and quickly locked it before trapping her body against the wall with his and cupping her face in his hands.

“Why me, Lily?”

“I recognize your wounds,” she said quietly.

Their first kiss was unlike anything he’d experienced in his life. She tasted so clean, a hint of lime from the water earlier, an undertone of almost brown sugar that made his brain stutter in his skull. Never had a woman’s mouth seemed to fit him so well. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his cargos, restricted and aching to get inside her. Her small hands were on his stomach, beneath his t-shirt, and the contact jolted him like an electric current.

Desperate to feel her skin-to-skin, he yanked his shirt over his head before sliding his palms under hers and soaking up the silken warmth that was Lily. When the soft material disappeared behind him, he was shocked to stillness at the sight of her full, perfect breasts in a demure white lace bra. Hard nipples stabbed against the material as if trying to get closer and August bent his head to suck one through the fabric.

Upper body arching to him, her fingers clenching in his hair, she whispered his name. The single word an accented sigh in the quiet. His hands moved everywhere, needing to strip her, to touch her as he continued suckling first one nipple then the other. Lily’s bra was the last piece of clothing he took from her and the dusky rose nipples hardened impossibly further under his gaze. Her teeth held her full lower lip captive, as if she fought to be quiet.

She was deliciously rounded, soft, every inch of her skin the same golden brown. Strands of her hair curled over her shoulders and teased her breasts; the trimmed curls shielding her pussy were the same silken black. When she moved her hands up as if to cover herself, he stopped her. “No. Please, Lily. Let me look. You’re so beautiful.”

The urge to take her had his blood pounding in his temples and groin until he wondered if she could hear it. “I haven’t had sex in years, Lily. I need you too much.” His eyes lifted to hers and she smiled shyly.

“If you’re worried about me, please don’t be. I imagine the first time will be quick for both of us. I’ve only had one lover and it was long ago. This is… un comienzo fresco , yes? A fresh start?”

Her words scared him, made him wonder if she was looking for more than he was willing or able to give. He stilled and she noticed, giving him a soft smile. “Do not worry, August Lang. You will not stay, I will not go. I expect nothing. You are like my…eh, the reset button, yes? We help each other move past the things that hurt us.”

For the first time in a long time, he exhaled and didn’t feel the pressure of his life and the consequences of his choices so painfully. All he could say was, “I’m sorry, Lily.”