Chapter 20
End of September
James’ Island
“How is it? Aren’t you sick of living on that island?” Eve asks.
I set the phone on the small side table and pick up a thin, tall glass filled with pink lemonade.
“It’s pure heaven,” I say, leaning back into my lounge chair and stretching my legs out before placing my laptop on the table.
I bring my drink to my lips and sip lemonade through a straw before putting it back on the table, my eyes trained on the sparkling blue water and shimmering white sand.
“I wish I could be there,” she says.
“You can come whenever you want.”
“Well, I can’t right now. You know I’m busy at work. I just got a couple of new clients. That doesn’t mean I can’t dream of a tropical island retreat. Right now, the weather is nice here. The temperature is mild, and most days are sunny, but the nights get cooler, and the rainy days will follow soon. It’s not fun when all is dark and wet.”
“I know,” I say, staring at the clear water rippling in the pool.
“Don’t you get lonely?”
I smile.
“All the time. But I got used to it.”
“I don’t know if I could live like that. Without people, I mean.”
“I have people around me. The housekeeper and a few staff members.”
“I mean people, people.”
We laugh.
“You know what I mean,” she says.
“Yes, I do.”
I pause.
“It’s not that bad. I finally got to live my dream.”
“Uh... Your dream?”
“Yes. Spending time in a beautiful, serene place, writing books. I’m almost done with my current project. I also had time to think about my life and all the things I hope to do in the future.”
“How’s James?”
“He’s good.”
I stay silent.
“That’s it? Where is he?”
“In Europe.”
“Has he come home since you visited him last month?”
“No.”
She doesn’t comment.
“Turns out I was right,” I say. “The fact that he had to fly to me and I had to go to him put unnecessary stress on him and didn’t help him. It’s better this way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Have you talked to him recently?”
“Yes. We talk on the phone all the time.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“Four or five days ago. Um... Last Sunday.”
She stays quiet while I take another sip of lemonade and pick up a slice of pineapple from a plate.
I pop it into my mouth.
“Is that how often you two talk?” she asks after a few more moments.
“We talk once a week, at least.”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“Aren’t you nervous about this whole distance relationship thing?”
I suck in a long breath.
“I was in the beginning. I still am, but I don’t want to think something bad could happen.”
“You do realize we’re talking about James Sexton here.”
I think about it for a moment.
“Yes. I do. I had to do it, Eve. There was no other way. And I’m much better now. I’m calmer and more patient. I’m waiting for him, and he knows it.”
“What if something happens?”
“You mean like another woman?”
“Yes.”
“He’s not that kind of man.”
“He might not be, but he’s a catch, and women are attracted to him.”
“Women can happen whether I’m thousands of miles away from him or in the same bed with him.”
She ponders, unconvinced.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I don’t think about it. I have no reason not to trust him.”
“I hear you. Well, I’m happy for you,” she says in a different voice before sighing at the other end of the line.
“Okay. I need to go now. I have a meeting. Call me when you have more news.”
“I will.”
I hang up and drink lemonade again.
The wind picks up a little, dragging fluffy clouds across the sky.
Occasionally, they cover the sun and the color of the water shifts from turquoise to gray.
“Would you like something to eat, Miss?”
I slide my legs off the chair.
“Maybe a little later,” I say to the woman helping in the kitchen.
“No problem. Just let me know when you want to have a bite, and I’ll set the table for you.”
She pulls away while I kick off my flip-flops and walk down the stairs leading to the beach.
The palmettos sway their leaves in the wind, and the salty scent of the ocean teases my sense of smell.
My short beach dress rides up as I walk, revealing my skimpy bikini. Running my hand down, I keep it in place.
Later, I walk along the shore, heading to a small cluster of trees where I usually lie on the sand and watch the ocean in the afternoons.
Today is no different.
I find my favorite spot in the thick shadow and sit on the warm sand. Shielding my eyes with a tanned hand, I gaze at the horizon.
Occasionally, yachts sail by.
Every day, I wake up, hoping one of them will bring him home. When it doesn’t happen, I keep my hope alive by swimming in the ocean and trying to forget.
After that, I stroll down the shore, and when the sun dips toward the horizon, I stay still and watch the slow motion in awe.
In the evenings, I return to the house, have a frugal dinner, and write some more.
It’s usually past midnight when I think of him with love, anticipating the day he’d hold me in his arms.
I wish that day could be today.
My eyes hover over the water as the afternoon light rolls over the beach, making the sand glimmer.
One of the boats seems to be getting closer but vanishes behind the island.
Today is not that day, I guess.
I remove my dress, drop it to the sand, and walk into the ocean.
Soon, warm water drapes over my shoulders.
I swim for a few good minutes before floating on my back, looking up at the sky.
My ears are filled with water that blocks out the noise.
All I hear is the thumping of my heart and my breaths. My mind quiets down, and a smile touches my lips.
The moment is perfect.
I spend a few more minutes in this magnificent state of relaxation before touching the ocean floor with my feet and wringing the water out of my hair.
Before long, I make the trip back.
Beads of water cling to my skin when I collect my dress and put it on.
A noise comes from the house, catching my attention, but I can’t figure out what it is.
Perhaps a dialogue, the voices ringing louder and louder. It’s different than what I’m used to on this island.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I look in that direction.
The trees block my view, but even so, I glimpse a white shirt and the back of a man who has… dark hair?
My heart jumps in my chest.
I bring my hand to my eyes and block the light, hoping to see him again.
Is it my imagination?
The gusts of wind move the leaves, obliterating my view even more. Hesitantly, I step in that direction, and then I stop.
The leaves part for a moment, and I get a better view.
‘It’s him,’ my heart screams.
It could be anyone, a skeptical voice says in my head.
The man in question turns around and vanishes behind a wall of vegetation just when I’m about to see his face.
It must be him.
I wait, hoping to see him again.
There.
I spot him.
He climbs the stairs, heading to the beach, and I turn to stone. Eyes trained on me, he walks toward me, wearing white linen pants and a matching shirt, untucked and unbuttoned at his chest.
“It’s him...” I murmur, not believing my eyes.
He keeps walking, a bright smile glinting across his lips.
“James...” I say.
Oh, my.
My hands start shaking.
“James...” I call out louder.
He’s not even close, and he opens his arms for me, his face beaming with a grin that tells me everything I need to know.
I run to him, the space between us only getting bigger as I can’t seem to get to him soon enough to quench my thirst for him and feel him close to me again.
A soft light threads through his gaze as I crash into his arms.
His lips meet mine, and we dive into a hot, hungry, ocean-scented kiss.
He lifts me up, and I loop my legs around his waist, the salty smell of the ocean transferring from me to his skin.
We break the kiss before I pull back a little and look at him, my fingers trailing his face.
“You’re here...” I murmur, a lump in my throat. Still having a hard time believing it. “Are you only visiting me? Do you have to go back?” I ask, glancing over his shoulder, looking for his people, a ship or a plane, anything that could take him away.
“What do you think?” he asks, amused.
My smile fades as my feet meet the ground.
“No way...” I say, struggling with disbelief. “Are you here for good?”
Smiling, he brings his hand to my face, brushes off a few specks of sand, lowers his mouth again, and kisses me slowly.
My arms wind around his neck as I press my chest against his torso, eager to feel his body, hungry to absorb his scent.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” I ask as we break the kiss again.
“Not unless you want me to,” he says softly.
And only then it all sinks in, and a scream of joy falls from my lips, making him laugh wholeheartedly before I lock him in a tight hug.
A second later, my hands slide up his chest and follow the contour of his shoulders, peeling his shirt off.
He tugs at the strings of my bikini and my bra.
They both fall to the ground, as does his shirt.
Our lips are locked, and my back hits the sand as I push his pants down.
Within seconds, he’s buried inside me, and my arms are looped around his neck, my eyes linked with his.
The most beautiful eyes––deep green, mysterious, shadowed by thick lashes look at me as we both pulse in our most intimate point of connection.
The most arousing smile grows on his lips as well.
Sultry, intense, and fiery.
“I’m so happy to have you back,” I murmur, looking at him mesmerized before he softly kisses my lips.
* * *
RAIN
Two weeks later.
The air is warm, and so is the water.
I tip my gaze to the side, check the time on my phone and look up and down the shore.
The waves crest slowly before crashing against the beach, leaving foam trails behind.
I type a few more words before closing my laptop and sliding it to the side.
Footsteps echo in the house as James shares jokes with the staff.
He enters the terrace, rounds my lounge chair, and crashes into his seat next to me.
His bare chest shimmers and water trickles down his abs.
My eyes go past the waistband of his sweatpants.
By the time I lift my gaze, he has a bottle of water sealed to his lips and a cocky smile sewn on them.
“How was your workout session?” I ask.
“Good. How about your writing?”
He gestures at my laptop, putting the cap back on.
“Productive,” I murmur distractedly, my gaze moving over his torso.
These couple of weeks he’s spent with me have positively impacted him.
He’s rested, fitter than ever, and in a good mood, not to say that our nights are even hotter than our honeymoon.
He flashes a mysterious grin as if reading my mind.
“What are you in the mood for?” he asks, setting the bottle on the table before stretching his body in his chair.
He flexes his arms and folds them under his head, every single muscle perfectly revealed beneath his tanned skin.
His eyes close, the ghost of a smile lingering on his lips as I study his body.
By the time I lift my gaze, he observes me through his lashes.
“Have something in mind?” he asks.
“I have many things in mind,” I murmur.
The edge of his teeth moves over his lip while he slides his gaze down my bare legs.
“What are you waiting for?” he says.
“Um...”
I flick my gaze toward the house.
“I gave them something to do in the guesthouse,” he says in response to my hesitant look.
I smile, amused.
“Until?”
“Until I’m done with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He drags his eyes to my legs again.
“Strip,” he says, his lips arched into a grin.
I rise.
“Slowly,” he says, pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down, not revealing much yet, although the outline of his erection is apparent.
Cupping his bulge with one hand, he strokes his lower abs with his fingers.
Smiling, I step toward him and bring my hand to my neckline.
He keeps moving his fingers across his shredded abs, brushing his hard length with his free hand.
“You are such a tease, Mr. Sexton,” I say, peeling the fabric off.
Our eyes stay locked as I untie my bra and tear it off my chest.
A grin sparkles in his eyes.
I shift my gaze to the house again.
“Are you sure they’re gone?”
“Mm-hmm. Positive.”
I turn my eyes to him.
His gaze stays glued to my chest as he strokes his bare cock with his hand, his fingers pushing his waistband even lower.
My cheeks get flushed as I run my eyes over his erection.
I shift to him, eager to touch him.
“Take your panties off,” he says, cupping his hard flesh.
Grinning, I chew on my lip.
“If anyone sees me...” I argue, tugging at my panties.
“They’ll get fired,” he says.
My panties fall to the ground just as the wind blows my hair over my face.
I brush it all to the side, not seeing a thing when I feel his hands on my hips.
He tilts my pussy toward him, almost making me lose my balance as he licks the flesh between my legs.
“James...”
His erection stirs as he swirls his tongue around my clit again, and my legs begin to shake.
I prop my leg on his lounge chair and open my thighs, pressing the back of his head against my pussy.
My nipples pucker as he thrusts his finger into me.
I roll my hips against his touch, already sensing a tightening pull inside my abdomen.
“You’re crazy,” I murmur, getting a rush from his mouth. “I want it too,” I say, trembling with anticipation.
He knows exactly what I want, so he spins me around, pulls my butt to his mouth, and lies back on his reclined lounge chair.
My knees slide on either side of him, my bottom going up while my legs open, giving him full access to my entrance.
Hands latched onto my hips, he pulls me back until his mouth meets my opening. I lower my head and take him into my mouth.
The first drop of pre-cum breaks against my tongue.
I cup his balls and close my fist around his girth before stroking him with my hand and sucking him.
Hard as steel, he pushes his hips up to meet my mouth, and my legs shake harder as he licks me harder.
A few more moments pass before he pushes me away from his mouth and slides me down, filling me up.
“Oh... Damnit...” I murmur, vacantly moving my gaze over the view in front of me–-the ocean, sand, palms, and pool––my skin welcoming the cooling breeze.
I move up and down, enjoying the wet friction, while he pulls me down harder and harder.
The pleasure builds up quickly before I break the rhythm.
He shifts his position, pulls me under, and covers my body with his.
My back lines his chest, my center filled as he strokes my clit and keeps thrusting into me until I start to shudder.
He grunts as I come, experiencing the same intense high.
Later, we slow down, silence falling over us, a magnificent sunset witnessing everything.
His arms snake around my body, his hand covering my pussy.
“Do we really have to go back?” I ask quietly.
“We don’t have to do anything.”
“Don’t you miss being home?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Me too. You know… I was thinking that maybe we could invite everybody here for a vacation.”
“We will,” he says.
I slide off and lie next to him, still wrapped in his arms. I look up, craving his eyes.
He looks at me, satisfied and happy.
“All these years... You’ve never disappointed me, James.”
A soft smile curls his lips.
“Neither have you, baby,” he says before kissing my hair, his lips full of passion.
Sighing contently, I lay my head on his chest, welcoming his hand on my hair.
“I love you,” I murmur, my eyes pinned on the stretch of water.
“I love you too,” he says tenderly.
Minutes pass while we soak in the view, experiencing this perfect time of our lives.
Before long, his phone hums on the table.
He shifts slightly, snatches it up, and answers the call.
“Hey, Theresa.”
A dash of surprise colors his voice, his fingers not leaving my hair.
His mother talks while he absently strokes my locks.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I hear her answer clearly.
“Yes, I am.”
“I guess that’s good news,” he says, his eyes not agreeing with his statement.
She says something else before he hangs up and places his phone back on the table.
“They found him,” he says in response to my questioning look.
“Where?”
He tips his gaze at me, concern beaming in his eyes.
“He’s here.”
“What do you mean here? Where?”
“In the US. She doesn’t know where.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I push up on my elbow.
“What does that mean for us, James?”
He searches my eyes, a shadow darkening his gaze before he quickly pushes it away.
“Nothing,” he says, grinning. “Right now, it means nothing,” he adds before kissing my lips.
End of Book Thirteen
* * *
Thank you for reading THE SINNER, James (Night of the Kings Collection One).
The next Volume in this Collection is THE HUNTER, Alexander (Night of the Kings Collection Two).
I hope you’ve enjoyed this series so far.
As always, reviews/ratings are highly appreciated, as is spreading the word about my books.