Chapter Fifty-five
The waves crash against the sand as the sun sets, dipping beneath the horizon, casting a longing golden glow across the surface of the sea as if saying goodnight.
It takes some time before the night truly reigns, a kernel of daylight clinging to the clouds before wielding to the power of the moon.
A small table has been set up at the edge where the sand meets soil, stone paving cutting it off, a thick line that travels miles both left and right, a clear divide.
A candle flickers within a tall glass vase, a polite server showing us to that very table. A chair is pulled out for me, and I delicately start to lower myself into the chair until…
“Absolutely not.” Malakai snaps. “Get your hands away from my wife.”
The server jumps back, hands going up as shock crosses his face.
“Malakai!” I scold.
But Malakai doesn’t listen, he steps up to me, his hand going to my back, “No one touches you.”
“He wasn’t touching me.” I glare at him.
His eyes plead with me, and I soften a little, “Go on then.”
His face breaks out into a smile, beaming and then he grabs the back of my chair, waiting for me to resume lowering into the seat. I’m shaking my head at how ridiculous it is, but I can’t help but smile too. When I’m sitting, Malakai takes the chair opposite me.
“Now apologize,” I say.
With a frown, Malakai opens his mouth, likely to ask why but I cut him off.
“You snapped for no reason,” I explain, “He did nothing wrong. Apologize.”
“Olivia.” He warns, the rumble of his voice sending goosebumps over my skin.
“The way you treat wait staff says a whole lot about you. They’re human too.”
“It isn’t because he’s our server, it’s because it’s you.”
“I’m so serious, Malakai.”
He huffs out an apology and turns his eyes to the waiter still awkwardly standing to the side. “My apologies for snapping.” He says, “But keep your hands away from my wife and we won’t have a problem.”
My mouth pops open but he just grins smugly at me.
Prick.
“Can I get you started with some drinks?” The server asks nervously, and I note how far away from the table he is and shake my head. This is ridiculous.
We order our drinks, and he hurries off, heading toward the restaurant a few hundred yards away.
“Did you pay them to set this up out here?”
“Yes.” Malakai answers, turning his face toward the sea.
“Thank you,” I tell him, “This is thoughtful, Malakai.”
“I wanted to take you on a date.” He repeats.
“A date could have been inside,” I laugh.
“But there’s people in there. I wanted you alone.”
We order our food when the drinks arrive and are quickly left alone again. A string of fairy lights is hanging close to our table, and the candle in the center flickers in the slight ocean breeze. The air is still warm despite the lack of sun, and the dark skies above us turns the water inky.
“How much time is left?” I ask.
He checks his watch, “Seven hours.”
The date, as far as dates go, was the best I had ever had. It was normal, we talked and laughed and ate, and now I have his jacket on my shoulders and my shoes dangling from my fingers as we walk down the beach, listening to the sound of the waves lazily lapping against the shore. His hand is strong and firm in mine, his thumb idly stroking over my skin. Goosebumps pimple across my body, the slight wind rolling off the ocean teasing a few strands of my hair.
The villa is up ahead, I can see the golden light spilling out of the many windows, and anticipation rolls through me.
I’ve been on edge all day, waiting for his electric touch. During our date I was distracted, but now we’re alone I know where this night is going to lead. I’m not sure I can handle being denied again.
He opens the doors and steps aside, letting me enter first. I drop my shoes just inside and head straight for the fully stocked bar. Malakai follows casually behind me, and while I fix a couple of drinks, he steps up close to my back, pressing his chest almost against me.
“Thank you,” He rasps as he bends and kisses me, sweetly, softly, on my cheek.
My hands shake when I pass him his two fingers of whiskey, having picked up on it being his go to drink.
“I had fun on our date,” I tell him honestly, “I’ve had fun all day actually.” Minus the no orgasm shit. It’s been wonderful, the heat, the pool, the house and time away. I needed it.
“Yeah?” He grins when I turn to face him, cradling the bowl of my wine glass.
I nod and place my wine down, a plan forming in my mind.
Just because he controls my time right now doesn’t mean I can’t play with fire a little. “I’m just going to get changed.” I tell him. “Be right back.”
I spotted the white lingerie he had packed for me earlier while we unpacked, the full set, and even though I didn’t plan on putting it on, that’s now changed.
Malakai is a relatively simple man when it comes to me. I can play him at his own game.
I grab everything I need and dart into the bathroom, stripping out of my dress and underwear before I place the lingerie on my body.
It’s from my sister’s boutique, a small business she put together some time ago now where she designs and manufactures lingerie. It’s stunning, a bright white lace number that leaves nothing to the imagination. It covers everything but with it so sheer, the pink hue of my nipples shows through on the bra, and you can clearly see the small triangle of hair at the apex of my thighs.
But I feel sexy in it. I leave my hair as it is, tumbling like glossy black waves over my shoulders and run my finger beneath my bottom lip, cleaning up the smear of gloss there. Then I grab the robe from the back of the bathroom door and head back down to find Malakai.
He’s out on the sun deck, his whiskey in one hand, the other buried in the pocket of his slacks as he looks down onto the lit yard. The ocean roars around us and the lingering warmth presses against my skin.
I pause a moment, running my eyes over him, appreciating the pure masculine form in front of me. He’s so effortlessly attractive, with his sharp jaw, dusting of facial hair, and his mop of dark brown hair that almost boyishly falls over his forehead like he’s just mused it with his hands.
“Hi,” I whisper, stepping out onto the deck.
He turns to me, eyes softening as he takes his hand out of his pocket and opens his arm to me. I go, tucking in tight as it comes around to hold me to him as he continues to look out across the yard.
“What are you looking at?” I ask.
“Nothing,” He answers immediately, “Just thinking.”
His hands steer me toward the set of patio seating near the house and he pulls me onto the wicker couch. I sink into the cushions, tucking in tight while my heart goes a million miles an hour inside my chest.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Sex with Malakai is easy. Explosive but easy.
Perhaps I’m just scared of being denied.
He tries to grab me when I move to stand up, not a minute later. Now or never.
“Come here,” He frowns, wondering why I’ve gotten up so soon.
I keep my eyes on his, my brown to his blue as my fingers go to the tie holding the robe closed. I tug the lose knot open, the slightly colder air hitting my naked skin, my nipples reacting to it and peaking beneath the lace.
Malakai lets out a hard breath, his jaw popping as he lets his eyes glide down my body. I shrug the robe off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor at my feet.
His eyes burn as they look at every inch of me, my chest moving rapidly as I breathe heavily.
“Olivia,” His voice is all growl.
My pussy clenches at the sound, my stomach knotting. So damn easy for him, my body is not my own when it comes to Malakai Farrow, it belongs to him.
My husband.
“I ache,” I whisper, swallowing.
His eyes bounce to mine and a slow, seductive grin pulls up his mouth, “Then let me fix that for you, kitten.”