fight it
MARLEY
I wake up the next morning tucked against Othello’s chest. I lie here in a state of bliss, the sound of his steady breathing in my ear and the Maui sights out the floor-to-ceiling windows. A feeling I wish I could bottle up and keep forever.
Last night was just as nostalgic. A release-and-bonding moment that made me feel lighter knowing Carina more personally and seeing the woman behind the public persona. We walked away seeing each other differently than before.
I hear him groan, rising from his sleep.
“Good morning,” he murmurs and kisses the back of my neck.
“Good morning.”
“How long have you been up?”
“Long enough to watch the sunrise. I’m going to hate leaving here.”
“Same.”
Othello spoons me closer to him as we watch the tide come and go.
“What are you going to miss the most about Maui?” he asks.
“Waking up to this view,” I tell him.
“Really? That’s it? That’s all you’re going to miss?”
“I guess I’ll miss the food. Oh! And the yacht. That yacht was something else.”
I’m toying with him. I know exactly what he wants me to say, but I won’t say it. He turns me around to face him, giving me a look of disbelief.
“What?” I pretend to be baffled.
“Food and views? That’s it?”
“Is there something else?”
“Yes!” His grip on my waist makes me laugh, his fingernails digging into me softly, tickling me. I squeal as we wrestle around on the mattress. Othello rolls on his back, pretending my power is too much for him to bear. I pin down his wrist and straddle his hips.
“Damn it. You know, I just remembered. There is something else I’m going to miss.”
His eyebrows raise. “Tell me.”
“I’m going to miss these…” My tongue traces the outline of his lip, then slides into his mouth.
We kiss. I ease down his body, my lips trailing kisses to his chest, his nipples, his stomach, and to his heavy erection already standing at attention.
Othello is already naked from last night’s love session.
Which lasted so long we were both spent when it was all over, falling into a comatose sleep.
“But I’m really going to miss this.” I hold his dick in my hands.
“Oh,” Othello groans, his eyes darken as he watches me.
I lick my lips before wrapping my fist around his stiff wood. A strangled moan comes out of his mouth, and I smile, loving how I can control him feeling this way. I sit on my knees in between his thighs, and I stroke him up and down as he whispers curses under his breath.
“Yeah, I’m going to miss this very much.”
I glide my wet tongue up the thick pulsing veins under his skin until I reach the tip and swallow him whole.
“Fuck…” he hisses.
Othello gazes at me, as though I’ve stolen every coherent thought from his head.
His hands curl into my locs, and I show him just how much I’m going to miss him.
My mouth takes him in faster and deeper, until I feel his dick in the back of my throat.
It feels so good, him sliding in and out of my mouth, that I find myself moaning too.
“Shit, baby. This feels so good.”
“Mmhm,” I hum. “Now you tell me what you’re going to miss.”
He can barely get what he wants to say out as he struggles with one simple word.
“You.”
Two hours later, I’m standing at the edge of a boat scanning the open water, anxiously waiting for what the tour guide, Braxton, says is going to take place at any moment.
Earlier, we’d had a picnic on the beach and then spent a lazy hour wandering the outdoor markets hand in hand near the docks.
I thought we were just killing time before heading back to the resort, until he suddenly steered me right past the shops and down the wooden planks of the marina, stopping directly in front of a gorgeous, gleaming white catamaran.
The boat rocks gently beneath our feet as I grip the railing, my eyes scanning the glittering ocean. Othello stands behind me, his hands over mine. My heart is doing cartwheels.
“How did you pull this off?” I ask him.
“I just knew the right people to ask,” he answers.
I turn to look at him in awe, and he smiles down at me, his eyes gleaming with affection. It hits me like a physical blow to the chest. The realization. Settling over me with startling clarity. I don’t just like this man. I’ve fallen for him.
“There it goes!” Braxton calls out, pointing out into the open sea.
I turn back to the water, following the guide’s outstretched finger.
Dolphins jut out of the water, their sleek bodies rising and falling in and out of the water like a perfectly synchronized dance.
I stare in awe, a smile I’ve been wearing all day frozen on my face.
It’s crazy how something so simple could take my breath away like this.
But I love it, and something inside me blooms.
“This is so beautiful,” I gasp.
“It actually is,” Othello admits, sounding just as stunned as I feel.
“There is something so comforting about seeing them out here like this,” I say as another dolphin breaks through the water. “It’s so different seeing them wild and free in their own habitat. Nobody’s teaching them tricks or telling them what to do. They’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.”
Othello pulls me in closer, his chin resting on top of my head. I settle into him, resting my back against his solid chest.
“You know, I’m glad I came on this trip,” he tells me. “I started not to. I changed my mind a hundred times, but I’m starting to think I would’ve missed out on something important if I hadn’t come.”
“Oh really?”
I feel him nod.
“I think everything could’ve been simple from the start, Marley. This vacation. Us.”
My breath catches on that last word.
“Us?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from the dolphins, but my ears hanging on to Othello’s every word.
“You’ve been bracing yourself since the day I sat next to you on that flight,” he says, and I can hear a smile in his voice. “Trying not to catch feelings.”
A laugh escapes me. Othello grips me tighter, and I sigh, contemplating the emotions I keep close to me.
“I’m immune to keeping my guard up. It’s my way of protecting myself.”
“Protecting yourself from what? Falling in love with someone?”
Love. The word almost feels foreign to me. Unfamiliar on my tongue and even more unfamiliar in my heart.
“Yes,” I finally answer.
“That just sounds like another way of being scared.”
I’m glad that I am not facing him because I don’t want him to see the distress in my eyes. I continue watching the dolphins. Watching them move effortlessly through the water. Disappearing and reappearing.
“Maybe it is. But I didn’t expect to come here feeling like this about someone,” I say. “I was supposed to leave here with memories. That’s it.”
Othello turns me to face him, and suddenly I feel chill.
I don’t know if it’s from the sincere look in his eyes or the subtle draft in the air.
The wind lifts a strand of hair across my cheek, and before I can move it, Othello reaches and tucks it behind my ear.
I close my eyes when he brushes his thumb across my cheek.
The simple touch sends warmth blooming through my chest.
“You don’t have to fight so hard with me,” he says quietly.
I swallow.
“You make it sound easy.”
He chuckles. “It is easy. It’s harder when you’re trying to push it away. Don’t fight it.”
“That’s the thing, I’m not fighting it anymore.”
He looks at me in surprise, a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re not.”
“No. I haven’t been able to fight it for a long time. I’ve tried, but every day I spend with you just gives me another reason to stop trying so hard.”
His grip tightens, and as if we can’t be any closer, he pulls me into him, his eyes scanning mine for sincerity in what I’d just said.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” I stretch out the word, trying hard to suppress the grin on my face. “I’ve loosened my grip on the distance I was supposed to keep from you. You matter to me more than you’re supposed to, Othello Kingston.”
This makes him smile brighter, and I can’t fight it; I’m beaming too. Othello closes the space between us, his hands in my hair, and his lips crashing into mine with a sudden, breathtaking intensity.