chapter nineteen
RILES
Sweet mother of passionate lip-locking!
Slowing my racing heart, I snuggle into Riley’s chest, delighting in his scent and body heat.
Delighting in simply being in a man’s arms again.
I can’t remember the last time I felt the way I feel now, able to count on one hand the men I’ve been intimate with.
Men I’ve shared more than a bed with. Men I’ve cried over while throwing their toothbrush in the trash.
And yet none of them felt like this… like a home I never knew I had.
Turning in his arms, I face the stern again as he hugs me under the mystical skies above. Thank God a family joined us for the spectacular view, because without their interruption, I don’t think I would’ve had the strength to stop when we did.
And we needed to stop.
He nudges my neck with his nose, his breath hot against my ear. “Was that kiss incredible too?”
I smirk. “Yes.”
“Good. We’re on the same page then.”
Grasping the railing, I clench it tight, needing it for balance, my legs trembling. His hands glide across my waist, tugging me to him, his erection pressing into the apex of my ass.
I bite my lip. “And what page is that?”
“The page where we see where this leads.”
Mesmerized by the twinkling stars and verdant glow, a palpable magic fills the air, a magic I can’t ignore, because moments like these happen for a reason. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I whisper. “You’ve been through a lot. And you’re still working through—”
“Never been surer.”
I draw in a deep breath then let it out again, wanting to believe him. But what he shared with his ex-wife—their many years together, the loss of a child—none of that goes away in the blink of an eye, no matter how hard you try to bury it out of anger.
“Stop, Riles,” he says, resting his head on my shoulder.
“Stop what?”
“Stop filling your head with negatives.”
“Negatives are important.”
“So are positives.”
A memory of Mom, standing in our living room with a box full of my stepfather’s things, bursts into my mind.
“Why aren’t you mad?” I asked, sad and angry enough for us both. “He can’t just up and leave like this.”
“He’s not just upping and leaving, Riley. We’ve grown apart. It happens.”
I pressed my head against the window and looked out at the street below. “I don’t understand.”
Mom set down the box and took a seat on the ledge beside me.
“I’m not mad because I choose not to be.
Life goes on, darling. It twists and turns, and we must twist and turn with it.
If we don’t, we end up staying still, miserable and bitter.
” She rubbed my leg. “Gary and I don’t want that for each other.
We want to move on and be happy, and we can’t if we’re holding on to the negatives. ”
I pulled my leg closer and hugged it to my chest. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s not a question of whether it’s fair. It’s about saying goodbye to what was and being brave enough to welcome what else may be.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice barely audible.
“Okay?”
I turn my head and search his face. “Let’s see where this leads. But we take this slow. Because I—”
He kisses my temple, his delicious lips stealing my words. “As slow as you need.”
I roll onto my back, desperate to keep my eyes shut, memories of Riley and me cuddling on a lounge chair under the Northern Lights a dream I don’t want to wake up from. A dream that was reality.
Against my better judgement, I’d given in, helpless not to, and we kissed again, a kiss I could still feel to my core.
We snuggled together in silence under the ethereal sky, and after neither of us could endure the bitter chill of the arctic air any longer, we returned to the cabin, kissed each other goodnight, and then fell asleep in our respective beds.
He never argued that request. Never pushed for more. And that only enforced his growing stronghold on my heart.
Sighing, I feel his lips on mine, a splendid recollection, until his tongue delicately grazes my teeth.
My eyes shoot open, my hands landing on his chest, shoving him back. “What—”
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?” I shriek, blinking all the blinks.
“Continuing where we left off last night.” He leans forward again.
“No!” I hold him at bay and cover my mouth with my hand, mumbling, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“I know.” He chuckles. “I could taste your morning breath.”
“Riley!”
Scooting back onto my elbows, I glare at him, my annoyance dissipating when he presents a steaming mug of coffee.
“I ordered room service for breakfast,” he says.
“Oh.” I sit up, pleasantly surprised as I take the mug from him and cradle it in my palms. “Thank you.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Eyeing him over the rim, I gently blow the steam before taking a welcoming sip. “I did.”
He comfortably lounges across my bed and props his head in his hand. “I mustn’t have snored.”
“How do you know that?”
He grins, all teeth, perfectly straight and pearlescent. “Because you didn’t use your AirPods.”
Reaching up to my ear, I feel their absence. “You’re right. I completely forgot to put them in.”
“That Aurora Borealis is some magical shit.”
Laughing, I can’t disagree. Last night was transcendental.
“Hurry up,” he says, bounding up from the bed before placing down a breakfast tray with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “I need to buy us new swimsuits before we leave for the Blue Lagoon.”
“What time is it?” I flick my wrist and read my watch.
“You have an hour.”
“An hour?” I kick off my comforter. “That’s not long enough to get ready and do my makeup.”
“Eat your breakfast, Riles,” he says, reaching over the bed and snagging my arm, pulling me back down to sit. “You don’t need to paint that pretty face of yours. It’s perfect the way it is.”
I touch my blushing cheeks. “Thank you, but I don’t paint my face for the likes of you…
or anyone else for that matter.” Which is a lie, because Georgia insists on a full face of makeup in the office, which has become an expensive habit.
“I paint it for me. Because I like to, and because it makes me feel good.”
He raises his hands. “You can do what you want. All I’m saying is you’re stunning with or without it.”
Unable to suppress my smile, I lift the fork from the plate and stab a piece of bacon. “I know!”
He belly-laughs.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
“Nothing. I like your confidence. It’s sexy.”
A little vexed, I grumble. “Confidence shouldn’t be about sex appeal, Riley.
It should be about self-worth and appreciation.
If more women uplifted themselves instead of trying to live up to what others subjugate, their world would be a much better place.
” I slide the bacon off my fork with my teeth and mumble, “I’m not ‘stunning’ because you think I’m sexy.
I’m ‘stunning’ because I know my self-worth. ”
“Whatever you say,” he says, booping my nose with the tip of his finger. “Nevertheless, you’re still sexy.”
Swiping his hand away, I scarf my breakfast and almost choke when he walks to the closet and wrenches his boxer shorts down, his delicious bare ass gloriously spotlit by the morning sun streaming in though the balcony window.
A cough bursts from my throat, so I pound my chest with my fist, praying I dislodge the piece of bacon now stuck there.
“You okay?” he asks, leaning back and smirking as he peers out from behind the closet door.
“Yes!” I slam my eyes shut and raise my hand at him. “I’m fine. Stay there.”
“Why? I can perform the Heimlich maneuver if you need me to.”
“No! What I need is for you to get some pants on.”
“What’s wrong? I thought you were an advocate of confidence,” he taunts.
“I am. But there’s confidence, and then there’s—” I swirl my finger, hoping I’m pointing in his direction. “—that.”
Continuing to shade my eyeballs in darkness to protect my we-take-this-slow approach, my spiraling finger suddenly jabs his rock-hard… chest. I splay my hand. Yes, that’s his chest.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, retracting my hand.
He grabs my wrist and splays my fingers on his abdomen, warmth surging from his skin to my palm, igniting my core. “I’m being confident.”
“Stop it!”
“Open your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice as rough as gravel.
Desperately trying not to peek, I clench my eyelids more firmly together. “No!”
“You won’t regret it.”
I sure as shit will… or won’t. Damn it! A teeny, tiny peek won’t hurt, surely?
Swallowing heavily, I slowly pry one eye open to where he stands before me, shirtless and in a pair of shorts, a grin so roguish the devil would blush.
Frustration sizzles along my cheeks, and I want to stab him with my fork, stab and then take a delectable bite.
“You’re not yet ready for all of me, sweetheart, especially that part.”
You delicious, arrogant son of a bitch!
I’m about to tell him he’s a jerk, when he raises my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Slow and steady, remember? I won’t push you to where you’re not willing to go.”
How sweet.
He cups his crotch and winks. “That part can wait.”
How… obnoxious!
Rising to my feet, I slide my hands up his chest and into his hair, tugging lightly to expose his neck, my tongue trailing along his skin. “Can it?”
He shudders.
“I guess it can,” I say, letting him go before sashaying to the bathroom.
Two can play at this game. And what a fun game it is!
After buying new bathing suits, we exited the ship and boarded a tour bus before journeying to the Blue Lagoon—a manmade geothermal oasis set amongst a lava field, and arguably Iceland’s most popular tourist attraction.
“It looks like blue milk,” Riley says as we stand by the edge of the vast, picturesque pool, steam billowing from the surface.
Holding my cell horizontally, I snap a few photos. “It does, but I can assure you it’s not milk. It’s surplus water from a nearby power station.”
“So we’re about to bathe in radioactive juice?”