6 January
New South Wales, Australia
The shuttle is supposed to be arriving in five minutes. I toss sunscreen and lip gloss into my tote and then remember I haven’t brushed my teeth. No, I do not have my shit together. Thank you, Winston. I hustle into the bathroom and as my mouth is foaming with toothpaste, I hear the knock at the door.
“Juuust a minute!” Toothpaste drips down my chin.
Another knock. This time twice. Geez, you’d think they’d be a bit more patient at a resort of this caliber.
I open the door with my toothbrush hanging out of the side of my mouth and white dribble on my chin.
A gleaming smile greets me. “G’Day, Frannie.” Without blinking he wipes the toothpaste from my chin.
“What are you doing here?” He’s back to see me. I smile and more dribble escapes.
“I have to slip into the city for work, so I thought I’d join you on this jaunt.”
“Uh ok.” Return of the middle school boy speak.
“I’ll let you finish getting ready.” He rubs his thumb over my chin a second time and gives me a wink.
The Easton Ferry Dock is abuzz with locals dressed to head into the city, obvious tourists with cameras around their necks, and a few moms with strollers. I dig for my credit card to scan at the kiosk, but Bruce pushes my hand away and waves his own little piece of plastic.
“Kanga card. We all have it for public transportation. Makes getting around a breeze.” Cue the dazzling smile that makes my knees weak.
“Ah, thanks,” I say as we step aboard the ferry.
He rests his hand on the small of my back as we climb the stairs to the upper deck and scoot across a bench finding a seat next to the railing. Seagulls fly overhead hoping a toddler might drop a treat. A multitude of languages drift through the air as different groups of tourists clamor up to the deck.
“It’s about a 30-minute ride. Good for a catnap after an early morning in the surf.”
“Sleep on the ferry? Wouldn’t you miss all the amazing views?”
“The amazing view is sitting right next to me, love.”
“And… you say that to all the ladies.”
“Nope. I know that’s what many people think. But no.” Bruce drapes his arm on the bench behind me.
I don’t know what to think, so I sit back to absorb my surroundings. Off to the left a striped lighthouse sits atop a cliff where the harbour opens to the Pacific. A group of small sailboats bobs off to the right. Then the city. I was only half awake on the drive from the airport, so as we glide past the Opera House it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. The iconic white shells reach up majestically from the water. It’s like it was built for a fairy tale.
Everything feels so different than it did with Winston. It was so comfortable with him. So familiar. All the nights we had laid in bed together dreaming of the night we would be fancy and go to the opera in Sydney. I wipe away a stray tear that has leaked out below my sunglasses and feel a little squeeze on my shoulder. I turn to give Bruce a half-smile but he jerks me toward him so I’m practically sitting on his lap.
“Blimey! Fuck! That little bugger almost shit on you!”
I look over at the fresh seagull shit dripping on the railing and we dissolve into giggles.
The ferry pulls into the wharf at Circular Quay. Bruce, ever the gentleman, apologizes to all the moms on the ferry for swearing in front of their children as we disembark. None of the moms seem to mind as they bask in his glow. I smile to myself as we separate ourselves from the crowd on the sidewalk.
“Thanks for ferrying with me to the city. I hope your meeting goes well.”
“Ferrying. Is that a verb?” He turns and looks at me.
“Definitely.”
“Fantastic.” He chuckles. “Where to next?”
“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?”
“Oh, love. There’s no meeting. I wasn’t going to miss that bridge climb with you.”
What! No meeting? He’s only here to be with me?
“Bridge climb? Not happening. I’ve nixed it from my itinerary.”
“There is nothing better than the Harbour Bridge climb on a clear day in Sydney and I would be remiss in my Australian host duties if I let you pass on this experience.” He walks along the sidewalk.
“Are you trying to sound like a formal tour guide selling a ‘once in a lifetime’ experience?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Did it work?”
“Maybe.” I laugh. Ok. I guess I’m doing this.
I hardly listen during the safety presentation…too wrapped up in my head about what I’m about to do with this god in human form who’s found me worthy of attention. Bruce puts his hand on my back. “I’ll be behind you the whole time, love.”
My harness is cinched and the guide clips me in. I can do this. One step at a time.
We reach the top of the bridge and the wind whips through my hair. I look in all directions. The traffic below zooms like Matchbox cars on a city track. A barge looks like a floating Lego. Yellow and green ferries crisscross the glistening blue harbor like wind up toy boats. Even the Opera House looks miniature. I’m on the top of the world looking down on a diorama.
“He would never believe I’m up here.”
“Who?”
“My ex…”
“What is that dumbass bloke’s name again? Preston?”
“Winston.”
“Well shit, Frannie. Winston does not know what he passed on. You’re a strong and courageous woman. You don’t sit back and let things just happen to you. You face life head on and you’re willing to step out of your comfort zone. Your laughter lights up this world. And you look damn fine with this harness hugging your ass. If you don’t mind me saying so. Hand me your phone, Frannie.”
I dig into my pocket—not an easy feat in the harness—and hand him my phone.
“Smile,” he commands and snaps a picture of just me before turning the phone around and taking a picture of the two of us. Swoon—but not too much at this height.
Bruce tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear and before I can respond, his lips cover mine. I think I might fall off the top of this bridge.
Thankfully, I did not fall off the bridge and we spend the afternoon strolling through The Rocks, the oldest part of Sydney. The architecture hails back to colonial days and boutiques, galleries, and little restaurants and pubs line the stone streets. I spy a gorgeous pink chiffon slip dress in a shop window across the street.
“Ooo… I love that dress!”
“It would be perfect for you, love.”
I step off the curb only to be met with Bruce’s muscular forearm thrown across my chest as a taxi whizzes a few inches in front of us.
He circles both arms around me. “Darl, look right, not left in these parts.”
I laugh at the close call. I’ve conquered the bridge, but crossing the street Down Under is another story.
“Now let’s go get you that dress.”
With my new dress tucked in my tote, Bruce takes my hand. “Where to next?”
“Well, I want to experience the famous Opera House steps, but to be honest, I have no desire to see the opera tonight. I’d rather not be reminded of Winston again.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“Are you my prince?”
“Hoping to be, love.”
He squeezes my hand and a warm wave washes over me. I want him to squeeze more of me.
We climb the Opera House steps and sit at the top. Behind us the arched shells reach to the sky and tour guides explain the iconic architecture to the groups standing at the glass doors. “The tiles were placed in a chevron pattern easily missed from a distance…” I rest my head on Bruce’s shoulder. It fits perfectly.
“Hmmm…what should I do with the opera tickets?”
“Want me to chuck them into the harbour? I’m sure they’re biodegradable.” I love how he makes me laugh. I’m so happy I’m sitting here with him and not alone as I watch happy couple after happy couple take selfies with the Opera House behind them.
“I think I’ll make one of these lovebirds a little happier.”
“And there she is. Always taking care of others.” Bruce drops a light peck on the top of my head.
I hop up, approach a woman admiring the view, and lean in to talk quietly.
“Excuse me. This might sound a little strange, but would you and your friend like to go to the opera tonight?”
Her eyes grow big. I give her a smile, slip the tickets into her hand, and turn back to find my friend.
We grab a quick bite overlooking the water and head for the ferry.
“Hold on a minute, darl.”
Bruce stops at a flower kiosk and returns with the most exquisite bouquet of lilies, sunny daisies, and pink snapdragons. “For you, love. You’re the sunshine of my day.”
All my favorites. He’s sexy AND a flower guy? He’s pushing all the right buttons.
The stars are starting to twinkle as we ferry back to Easton. The wind blows through my hair and clears my head after a day of all the feels.
We pull into the ferry dock and Bruce entwines his fingers with mine as we walk to his car.
“Have some time to check out my favorite view of Sydney?” Bruce asks. “It’s one us locals keep to ourselves.”
I don’t want this day to end so if he’s suggesting extending it, I’m in. “I’d love that.”
We pull up onto a cliff with a panoramic view of Sydney. Bruce pulls the Land Rover in backward. He grabs a blanket from the backseat, opens the trunk, and hops into the back of the car patting the spot next to him. I scoot in letting our legs touch as they dangle over the tailgate. There’s a slight breeze coming off the harbour and he wraps the blanket around my shoulders. The lights of Sydney fill the horizon. The Opera House shines bright in the distance and the bridge lights glimmer beyond it. It’s gorgeous up here. I can see why the locals keep this spot secret.
Bruce puts his arm around my shoulders and lies down, pulling me back with him. The smell of the lilies mixed with the sea air fills the car.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.
“Enjoying each other.” His fingers tickle my neck and shoulder.
“I’m not a one-night stand girl.”
Bruce takes a deep breath. “Surfing’s taught me to trust that things will unfold as they’re meant to be. I trust the universe and its timing.”
I sigh and roll on my side, lifting my leg across him. He’s hard against my thigh. His fingers tickle my ankle and make their way up my leg. He turns to kiss me. His mouth opens and he sucks my top lip giving it a playful bite. The lace between my legs is wet and warm. I press my thigh into him. With his hands on my hips, he pulls me on top of him. My knees sink into the sandy carpet lining the trunk and I’m straddling a surf instructor I only met a few days ago. Being on top makes the power go to my head and I return his playful bite with a little more strength. In return his hands grab my ass running his fingers under the edge of my thong. Teasing me. I want his fingers inside me. I rock against him. He moans.
“Not yet, love. I want to savor you first.”
He runs his fingers up my side meeting at the clasp to my bra. He frees my breasts. I push myself up on all fours as he massages my breasts like he’s waxing his favorite surfboard. Wax on. Wax off. He pinches my nipple and then reaches his mouth up to suck it. His tongue circles the tip and I swear I could have an orgasm right here.
“Bruuuuce,” I gasp. I’m not sure how much savoring I can handle. He stops for a second, chuckles, and moves to my other nipple. I run my hand under his shirt tracing every line of his tight six-pack abs. I find the waist of his shorts and run my finger underneath following the trail of hair. He strains into my hand. Oh my god. I tighten my fingers around him gently pulling him. With the ease he had popping up on the surfboard, he sits up keeping me on his lap. He’s so big and hard underneath me and all I want is for him to be inside of me. His fingers move my lace panties to the side and he slips them inside. I bite my lip.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” I confess.
“No one said you had to,” he growls in my ear pushing his fingers deeper than I thought possible. He gently bends one into the elusive spot and the waves start, soft at first. I kiss him harder and rub against his hand feeling his hardness underneath us. The waves come harder as I tighten around his fingers. I pant into his mouth. I can tell by his breath my rocking is undoing him as well. I move my hips around in a circle. The hand that’s not exploring my cavernous insides, holds my back pressuring me down on him. My orgasm peaks as I tremble beneath him. His hand comes out of me and he sucks each of his fingers. I push him back again and ride him through his shorts until he whispers, “Frannie,” in desperation.
“I want you,” I say as a yawn escapes me.
“You’ll have all of me darl, but let’s wait until you’re not so tired.”
All of him. I can’t wait.
The drive to the resort is quick. Bruce walks me to my door.
“Thanks for the best day, Frannie.”
“My pleasure.”
“Mine too.” Bruce cups my face, brushes his thumb over my lips, and gives me a quick peck before he is gone.
It’s all I can do to strip my clothes off before I curl up under the covers and close my eyes. The jetlag, the emotions, and the orgasm exhausted me in the best way.