Chapter 52
Sophia
The Datai Langkawi, where I’m meeting the boys, is nestled amid dense rainforest, right on the coast of the Malaysian island of Langkawi. I know many, many facts about this resort, because I’ve spent far too much time on its website and Instagram account over the past few days.
I have never been this excited in my life. I’m finally going to be reunited with my man, and in the most spectacular surroundings. I’m never letting him go again.
He offered to send the jet for me, but even I’m not princessy enough to demand a private jet for one.
Instead, I graciously accept a first-class plane ticket.
I shower in the airport lounge and change into my adorable hot pink sundress, and a driver from the hotel picks me up.
Ethan and Jamie arrived here late last night.
I strum my fingers on the Jeep’s leather upholstery for the entire journey, because I. Cannot. Wait.
In the vast lobby, with its vaulted wooden ceiling, I stand for a moment, disorientated, until I hear a shout from behind me.
‘Soph!’
I know that voice.
I swivel, and oh my God.
There he is!
But also—holy fuck. He is so fucking hot. He and Jamie are grinning at me, and he looks so tanned, and rugged, and muscular. He has a neatly trimmed beard, and his brown hair is sun-streaked, and, in a soft cream T-shirt and beige cargo shorts, he basically looks like some hot, ripped surfer dude.
I’m totally going to get railed by the ripped surfer dude.
We both start running, even though I’m in wedges, and we kind of slam into each other.
The moment my body hits his, the moment he wraps his arms around me and I get to inhale the scent of his skin, it hits me like a tonne of bricks how much I’ve missed him.
How shitty a facsimile of this our FaceTimes and WhatsApps have been.
How viscerally I need to be with him, to be close to him.
I wrap my arms more tightly around him and tilt my head up to snort his neck, and he chuckles, low and soft.
‘Hi, you.’ He strokes my hair and then forces me away from his neck so he can kiss me.
It’s slow and loving, and it may be pretty PG, but it’s perfect.
Simply having his lips pressed against mine is perfect.
When he pulls away to study me, I beam up at him like some kind of crazed koala bear, fisting his t-shirt in my hands.
He smiles back down at me, his thumbs grazing my cheeks. ‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.’
‘Right back at you,’ I retort.
‘Jesus, get a room, guys,’ Jamie grumbles beside us, and I laugh, embarrassed, and extricate myself.
‘Oh god, sorry, Jamie! Hi!’ I go in for a hug, which he returns awkwardly. ‘You look fantastic!’ I tell him. ‘You both do.’
‘Do you want to see the villa?’ he blurts out. ‘We got a beachside one. It’s fire.’
‘I would love to see the villa.’ I put my hand in Ethan’s and squeeze tightly.
The three of us walk through the hotel, Jamie loping ahead.
I swear he’s grown even more since I last saw him.
The resort is spectacular, but I can’t quite take it in, because I’m too busy gaping at my hot boyfriend, and it seems he’s having the same problem.
Every time our eyes lock, we grin like lovesick fools, which I suppose we are.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment for months.
I’d come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t see him until he landed back on British soil, and I had detailed plans to go full Love Actually on him and Jamie at Heathrow, but this is even better, because this place rocks, and because I get to see him in full Aussie Ethan mode, when he’s still chilled out and wearing shorts and flip-flops.
I really dig Aussie Ethan.
Every tiny thing feels like a miracle. The heady scent of the rich undergrowth that surrounds our path. The secure warmth of Ethan’s hand in mine. The slap of his flip-flops on the wooden walkway. And then we happen upon the most beautiful low-level buildings, framed in lush gardens.
‘This is incredible.’ I turn in a circle, taking in the stunning landscape, the turquoise pool, and the two glass-and-wood structures that sit perpendicular to each other around the pool.
‘I don’t even have my own room, I have my own villa.’ Jamie spins in front of the smaller freestanding structure, pointing through the open French doors to a chic bedroom. ‘But yours is even bigger. It’s massive. Come and see. Your shower is lit. Dad let me try it last night.’
He trots across the terrace and through the doors of our villa, and I marvel at the change in him.
Gone is the hangdog demeanour, in its place a serious happy puppy vibe.
It’s amazing to see. I grin at Ethan as we follow him through into a stunning, neutrally decorated lounge area with vaulted wooden ceilings and then into a fuck-off bedroom.
Oh, this will do very nicely for my purposes.
I glance at Ethan again, and it appears we’re on the same page, because he clears his throat.
‘When’s your golf lesson, mate? Two o’clock? Better go and get changed for it. I can help Soph unpack.’
Jamie frowns. ‘But her bags aren’t here yet.’
‘I’m sure they’ll bring them down any minute,’ Ethan counters smoothly. ‘They’re very efficient.’
I suppress a laugh as Jamie shrugs. The kid has zero guile, bless him. ‘Okay.’ He bounds off with all the grace and exuberance of a Labrador puppy.
‘Have fun,’ Ethan calls after him. ‘Try not to stress about about your swing too much. Just relax and enjoy the views. And don’t forget your golf shoes!’
Poor Jamie is scarcely out of our villa when Ethan pushes the bedroom door shut and spins around, pulling me into his arms. His kiss is ravenous, as if he’s trying to consume me with his mouth.
This man. I return the kiss, clutching at his bicep for stability as I grab at his hair, our mouths sliding, tongues doing battle.
He tastes like Ethan, and the beard is a new and very welcome addition, adding excellent friction.
I want to climb my man like a tree and never come down.
‘Bathroom,’ he gasps into my mouth. ‘In case the poor porters do actually show up.’
He backs me into a palatial bathroom before locking the door and slumping against it. He’s already breathing heavily. ‘Fuck, I love you so much. You’re even better in reality. Now strip.’
I cross my arms. ‘Ditto. And ditto. And no fucking way. You left me, and I’ve come all this way. You need to make it worth my while. You strip.’
He grins sexily and hauls himself off the door. ‘The lady makes a fair point.’ He yanks his t-shirt off, and I can safely say I have never felt this smug in my entire life as I do watching Ripped Surfer Ethan prepare to get naked for little old moi.
He balls the t-shirt up and chucks it at me. ‘I’m feeling objectified.’
‘So you fucking well should.’ He’s huge and golden and all hard muscle and sculptural planes. His normally flat stomach is now an actual six-pack. He should never, ever go back to a desk job if this is how the outdoorsy lifestyle makes him look. I circle my finger at the groin area. ‘Off.’
He looks entirely too self-satisfied shoving down his shorts and boxers, as well he should. He kicks them off and straightens up, his lovely hard cock bobbing.
Jesus Christ, how I have missed that cock.
‘Nice dick.’
‘Thanks. What are you going to do about it?’
‘This.’ My very cute sundress has a ruched upper half and sweet little bows on the straps. I undo the bows, letting the straps hang loose, and work the dress down over my boobs and hips, unveiling my little welcome gift: no underwear was donned at the airport. ‘Tada!’
‘You little beauty.’ He’s on me in a second, and fuck me, if the shock of full-body skin on skin isn’t the single best thing in the human experience, I don’t know what is. Except for what comes next, obviously.
We go crazy, groping each other’s arses and dragging our hands over each other’s skin and kissing wildly, heads twisting and limbs everywhere.
‘Shower,’ he gets out, and we manoeuvre ourselves into the huge walk-in shower.
He cranks up the water, and I yelp as the cold spray hits us, but I don’t even care.
I’m breathless as he kisses the life out of me, our skin growing slick.
I grab his dick with zero finesse—Jesus fuck, that feels good—but he pulls my hand away laughingly. ‘Don’t. I won’t last as it is.’
‘Don’t care, as long as you can go again.’ I reach for it, and he cuffs both wrists with one hand. ‘Seriously, sweetheart. I haven’t had sex in three months. Much as I love your hand on me, I’d rather it was your cunt that was gripping me when I shoot my load.’
Okay, that’s an excellent point. I nod and dive on him again, moving my mouth over his face, mapping him with my lips. How can he be exactly as I remembered and yet so much better? ‘I love you,’ I mumble. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you. Don’t ever leave me again. You’re not allowed.’
‘I have no plans to.’ He slicks my hair back into a rope and twists it around his fist, tilting my head up. ‘Not ever.’ His face is grave, and the sincerity of his words hits me right in the heart. I can feel pressure welling up in my sinuses and behind my eyes.
‘Good.’
‘Good. Glad that’s settled. Now back up against the wall for me like a good girl, and let’s take a look at you.’
He may be a world away from the icy, dysregulated Ethan I met all those months ago, but he can still seriously pull out that BDE when he wants to, which is most excellent. I shiver and back up against the huge, cool limestone tiles.
‘Spread your legs.’
I spread ‘em faster than you can say ho.
Then he’s coming towards me, looking at my body as though it’s the single most exquisite sight he’s ever seen. He comes right up close and bends so he can take one aching nipple into his mouth as he closes a strong hand around my other breast.
I practically shoot through the ceiling.