Chapter Six
Ryan
An array of tiki torches flickers all along the beach, casting dancing shadows across the sand. I catch Meredith's eye from across the party, and my heart skips a beat. She's radiant in the warm glow, her golden-brown hair gleaming with streaks of firelight. I can't resist picturing my fingers knotted in those locks as I tug her head backward while I fuck her up against a palm tree. But I can't do that. I won't do it. Not in public. At forty-three, I'm hardly a kid, but next to her timeless beauty at fifty-two, I feel like a fumbling teenager. What if she just sees me as her hot island fling—a "boy toy" to play with and discard?
She doesn't seem like that type. But then, I barely know her—except in the biblical sense.
Meredith saunters over to me, those hips undulating in a hypnotic rhythm, and gives me a playful wink. "Quite the shindig, isn't it? Though I must admit, the view just got a whole lot better."
I fight back a grin. "It's...lively."
Her laughter, sensual and inviting, makes my dick twitch. "Oh, come on, you can do better than 'lively,' Ryan. Where's that clever wit you showed me last night?" Her amber eyes dance with mischief like they had last night. "Speaking of which, where were you hiding all morning? I was up at the crack of dawn, ready to continue our...'negotiations.' "
I clear my throat a little too loudly, disconcerted by the memory of our intensely erotic encounter. God, I want nothing more than to whisk her away right now and pick up where we left off. But I shouldn't. I can't. I won't.
So instead, I stammer like a frigging moron. "I, uh, had some work to catch up on."
Meredith arches an eyebrow. "All work and no play makes Ryan an uptight boy." Her fingers graze my arm, leaving tingles in their wake. "Perhaps we should remedy that..."
I swallow hard, trying my damnedest to remain composed. "Meredith, I really shouldn't—"
As the music swells, her fingers twine with mine. "Dance with me, sweetie."
Her sultry breaths tickle my ear. Without waiting for a response, she tugs me gently away from the crowd, and I let her lead the way. The farther we go from the beach party, leaving the flickering torches behind, the drier my mouth becomes. The raucous laughter and chatter fade away, replaced by the soft lapping of waves against the shore. Moonlight bathes the deserted stretch of beach in an ethereal glow, transforming Meredith's hair into a shimmering halo.
"It's magical out here," I murmur, drinking in the serenity. But even as I speak the words, my body grows tense.
"Oh, no, you are magical, Ryan. Last night, you made me come so hard I swear I saw stars."
I have no idea how to respond to that statement, so I don't even try. We walk in companionable silence, our bare feet sinking into cool sand. With every step, our shoulders brush and her presence alone relaxes me. Yet I'm hyper-aware of her proximity, the gentle sway of her hips, the intoxicating scent of coconut and something uniquely Meredith.
"So, Ryan Kimble, tell me something I don't know about you."
I hesitate, caught off guard by her directness. "I, uh...I make a mean pineapple upside-down cake?"
Meredith's laughter echoes off the trees. "Somehow I doubt that's the most interesting thing about you."
Our fingers are still entwined, and I give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Maybe not. But I'd rather hear about you. What brought you to Heirani Motu?"
She pauses, her head down, and rubs her arms as if she's cold. But I doubt that's the case. We are on a tropical island, after all—not in the arctic circle. The moonlight catches the amber flecks in her eyes, making them shimmer faintly. I also notice, however, that she's begun to sniffle. It only lasts a moment, then she straightens and clears her throat. No trace of anxiety or sadness remains. Her lips curve into a soft, inviting smile. She doesn't speak, but her gaze holds mine. Her body language is open, one hip cocked slightly as she leans toward me, closing the already small distance between us.
God, she's beautiful. And vibrant. And everything I shouldn't want. My eyes flick toward the ocean and its vast expanse that mirrors my tumultuous thoughts and mood. I take a small step back.
"We should probably head back," I say, the statement sounding hollow even to my own ears.
Meredith's brows furrow. "Are you okay, Ryan? You seem...tense."
I run a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I can't seem to shake. "It's just, you know, work responsibilities and all that."
But even as I speak those words, I can feel my resolve wavering. The moonlight, the gentle crash of waves, the intoxicating presence of Meredith—it's all conspiring against my better judgment. I find myself torn between duty and desire, professionalism and the raw need to connect.
Meredith takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Ryan, I need to tell you something." She hesitates briefly, then seems to make a decision. "I've never felt this...alive before. This connection between us, it's more than physical. It's like you see the real me, and I see you."
My pulse accelerates. Her words echo my own unspoken thoughts, and I feel as if my carefully constructed walls have begun to crumble. How she does this to me, I can't explain.
"I realize we barely know each other," she continues, her fingers brushing my arm. "But I'm willing to take a risk here. Are you?"
Without meaning to do it, I stretch my hand to cup her cheek. Her skin is warm and impossibly soft under my palm. I have to remind myself that she's not some naive girl. Meredith Hayes is a mature woman who knows what she wants.
I trace my thumb along her jawline, and I'm acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect. "I want to take the risk. God, I want to. But there's so much you don't know about me, about my past."
She leans into my touch, her gaze locked on mine. "Then tell me. I'm here, Ryan. I'm listening."
As I close my eyes, I'm torn between the intoxicating pull of her presence and the weight of my responsibilities, my guilt. When I open them again, I see nothing but acceptance in her gaze, and for a moment, I let myself hope for a miracle. Then I lean in, drawn by an irresistible force—Meredith. The moment our lips meet, the kiss becomes charged with passion, hunger, and a hurricane of emotions that sweeps away all my carefully constructed defenses. Her lips are soft yet insistent, tasting of salt and tropical fruit. I pull her closer as she threads her fingers through my hair. Our need for each other erupts into a desperate, tongue-tangling, groping exploration of each other's mouths and bodies.
The sounds of the beach party fade away, replaced by the thundering of my heartbeat and the soft sighs escaping Meredith's lips. Time seems to slow, stretching this moment into eternity. It's just us, two souls connecting under a vast canopy of stars, with the gentle lapping of waves as our soundtrack.
When we finally peel our mouths apart, breathless and gasping, reality comes crashing back. My mind races, panic rising like bile in my throat. What am I doing? I'm the general manager, for pity's sake. I have a job to do, responsibilities that can't be ignored.
"I...I shouldn't have done that," I stammer, stumbling backward. "Meredith, I'm sorry. This isn't...I can't..."
The confusion in her eyes makes me hate myself for putting that look on her face. But how can I explain? How do I tell her about the guilt that haunts me, the vows I've made to never let myself be vulnerable again?
"Ryan, it's okay," she tells me, reaching for me. "We're both adults here. We can figure this out."
I shake my head, my thoughts a jumbled mess. "No, you don't understand. My job, my past...there are things you don't know about me. Things that make this impossible." I veer away from her, my feet already shuffling back toward the flickering lights of the party. "I have to go. I'm sorry, Meredith. I just...can't."
"Ryan, wait!" Meredith calls out, her voice a mix of confusion and anguish. I feel her hand brush against my arm, but I jerk away from the touch, unable to face her. The warmth of her touch lingers, a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in my stomach.
The heaviness of my footfalls makes me sink into the sand with every step. But I can't stop running, not even when the earth shifts under my feet, and I almost fall down. As I put more distance between us, every step feels like some kind of betrayal. The sounds of the beach party grow louder as I approach, but they're muffled by the roaring of my own pulse in my ears.
"Ryan!" Meredith calls again, her voice tinged with desperation. "Please, don't run away from this!"
Her words hit me like a physical blow, but I can't bring myself to turn around. If I look at her now, see the hurt and confusion on her face, I know I'll crumble. And I can't afford to fall apart, not here, not now.
I reach the edge of the party where the flickering tiki torches cast long, dark shadows across the sand. A few curious glances are thrown my way as I hurry past, but I ignore them.
Once I've slammed the door of my bungalow behind me, I sag against it, my eyes closed.
No matter what I might feel for Meredith, I can't drag her into my world.
After a restless night's sleep filled with visions of Meredith writhing, moaning, and coming apart for me, I know I need to do something or I'll go crazy. She is the most incredible woman I've ever met. And she loves to get naughty, that much I learned from our encounter in her bungalow. That gives me an idea. Fortunately, the resort shop offers plenty of options for adults who enjoy a little kink—or maybe more than a little.
Still, I don't feel like outing myself as a potential sex fiend, so I wait until after the shop closes. Then I use my master key to get back inside and grab what I need. I left a note for Mariel explaining that I'd paid for an item, though I fibbed about why I bought it. For a friend, I told her. Yeah, she'll believe that.
What did I buy? A vibrating sex toy that comes with a remote control so I can make Meredith come whenever I feel like it—in her bungalow, in the woods, on the beach, or...in public.
Fuck, I'm getting hard just thinking about that.
I sneak back to my bungalow, heart racing as I clutch the discreet black bag. What am I doing? This is insane. I'm the general manager. I should be focusing on work, not plotting ways to secretly pleasure a guest. But I can't get Meredith out of my head. The way she looked at me on the beach, vulnerable yet determined. The taste of her lips, the softness of her skin. God, I want her so badly it physically hurts.
Pulling out the toy, I slide my hand up and down its length, getting aroused simply by feeling its sleek and curved shape. And by thoughts of what I could do to Meredith with this device. The remote feels heavy in my palm. Images flood my mind—Meredith writhing in ecstasy as I control her pleasure from across the room. Her trying to maintain composure during dinner as waves of sensation wash over her.
My cock strains against my pants. This is wrong. So wrong. But I can't bring myself to put the toy and remote back in the bag. Shit. What am I thinking? I can't do this. It's completely unethical. I'm letting my desires cloud my judgment.
I sink onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands. God, I'm a mess. One kiss from Meredith and I'm ready to throw away everything I've worked for. My professional integrity, my vows to never let anyone get close again. All of it, crumbling because of one amazing woman. But it's more than simple physical attraction. There's something about Meredith that calls to me on a deeper level. Her warmth, her wisdom, the way she seems to see right through my carefully constructed walls. And the pleasure she gave me last night...it was more than hot sex.
And that terrifies me.
I leap off the bed and begin pacing the length of my bedroom. The toy sits on my nightstand, a tempting reminder of my momentary lapse in judgment. I can't use it. I won't. But I also can't bring myself to return it.
With a frustrated groan, I grab my running shoes. I need to clear my head, to put some distance between my dangerous thoughts and the woman who inspires them. The pre-dawn air is cool against my skin as I set off down the beach, my feet pounding out a steady rhythm in the sand. I run until my lungs burn and my legs ache, pushing myself to the limits of exhaustion. But even physical exertion can't drive Meredith from my mind. Her throaty laughter echoes in my ears, and the ghost of her touch traces over my skin.
As the sun begins to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues, I slow to a stop. I'm far from the resort now, alone on a secluded stretch of beach. The waves lap gently at the shore, a soothing counterpoint to my ragged breathing. I bend over, hands on my knees, as I try to catch my breath and calm my carnal fantasies.
What am I going to do about Meredith? I can't avoid her forever, not on an island this small. And if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to hide from her. Despite my best efforts to maintain professional distance, she's gotten under my skin in a way no one has in years.
I straighten, thrusting a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. The logical part of my brain knows I should put a stop to this, draw a firm line and stick to it. But my heart...it wants to take that risk Meredith spoke of last night. As I start the long trek back to the resort, I try to sort through the jumble of emotions swirling inside me. Good luck with that, pal.
The sun climbs higher in the sky as I make my way along the shoreline. My muscles ache from the punishing run, but it's nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Images of Meredith flash through my mind—her radiant smile, the warmth in her amber eyes, the softness of her lips against mine. God, that kiss. It was like being struck by lightning, every nerve ending in my body coming alive at once.
I pause to catch my breath, staring out at the endless expanse of turquoise water. The ocean has always had a calming effect on me, but today it only serves as a reminder of my inner turmoil. The vastness of it all makes me feel small and insignificant in comparison.
As I near the resort, I spot a familiar figure walking along the beach. I freeze, my gaze locked on the figure moving toward me. I recognize Meredith's graceful gait. She hasn't seen me yet, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she meanders along the water's edge. For a moment, I consider ducking behind some nearby rocks to avoid an encounter. But something stops me. Maybe it's the way the morning light catches her hair, turning the golden-brown strands into spun gold. Or maybe it's the memory of her words from last night, her willingness to take a risk on whatever this is between us. For reasons I can't explain, I find myself calling out to her before I can stop myself.
"Meredith!"
She whirls around at the sound of my voice, her eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, we just stare at each other across the sand, letting the crash of waves fill the silence between us. I close the distance, unsure of what I'm going to say but knowing I need to say something.
Her face lights up. "Ryan? I didn't expect to see you out here."
"Couldn't sleep," I admit, running a hand through my damp hair. "Needed to clear my head."
Meredith searches my face. "About last night..."
"I'm sorry," we blurt out simultaneously. And we smile at the same time too.
"You go first," she offers.
Her beautiful body and that smoky laugh make the decision for me. "How wicked would you like to be, Meredith?"
She edges closer. "What did you have in mind?"
I must be smirking like the devil himself. "Ever hear of remote-controlled sex toys?"
Meredith's grin broadens. "That sounds deliciously wicked."
"Tomorrow, I'm leading a sightseeing trip to Fiji." I pull her closer. "Come with me. You'll need to wear clothes, which means I can slip the device inside you. Then you'll be at my mercy, coming whenever I allow it."
Will I survive doing that to her? It'll be worth a heart attack. I've never been this horny before, and I know one thing for certain.
I will need to fuck her afterward and fuck her hard.