11. Renée
11
RENéE
I mpossible how a man can look so good just rolling out of bed after having a night to remember. Well, maybe it wasn’t so memorable for him. He seemed the type to indulge in debauchery on the regular. And yet, there was a hint of something else behind the fa?ade I couldn’t put my finger on.
C.T. and I walked down the beach as it curved and twisted around the island. We had probably gone at least two miles when we found a small bar and restaurant at the opposite end of the resort.
For the most part the walk had been quiet, with only general conversation peppered here and there. None of it of consequence. Most of it having to do with the flora, fauna, and folklore of the island.
Surprising as it was, C.T. had done quite a bit of research into the island where the resort was located. I found that particular aspect fascinating.
We were seated in the restaurant’s open-air dining room at a table by the railing that led to the beach.
After ordering drinks, I looked over the menu while attempting to covertly study him. He had his sunglasses tucked in the placket of his shirt, where he’d stopped buttoning. The man was simply gorgeous. No other words were adequate to describe him. Not that he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen—no there was some intangible quality about him that made him appealing.
“See something you like?” he asked as he set the menu aside and focused his entire attention on me.
I laughed in embarrassment that he’d caught me when I’d tried so hard to be stealth. “Do you need me to stroke your ego?”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Oh, stroking me sounds like a really good idea right about now.”
The ambient heat went up by at least ten degrees.
Having found at least four things on the menu that sounded good, I put it down and gave him the same undivided attention he gave me. “I promise to stroke you all you want later.”
A devilish expression filled those sea-blue eyes, and my heart pounded in response.
We needed to move the conversation along, or we were going to get totally sidetracked and end up making out in the sand dunes.
I scrambled for something to say that got to the heart of him. Nothing that I’d be able to identify him with but to see who he was inside. “Tell me about Toby.”
His eyes widened and he sat back. “Wow. Not the question I’d expected.”
“I noticed your tattoo last night when you were sleeping.”
“I figured.” He rubbed his hands together. “What do you want to know about him?”
I grappled for somewhere to start to draw him out. “Did you get him from a puppy?”
“More or less. He was about a year old when we got him. My older brother wanted him and since he got everything he wanted; my dad spent the money on him. We didn’t have him but about a month when my bro lost interest.”
I tilted my head. “But you didn’t.”
C.T. shook his head. “Have you ever had a dog?”
“No, my parents didn’t allow pets.” I left it at that.
He frowned, then continued, “Anyhow, by then Toby had already bonded to me so it was cool. I did everything for him, after all. Fed, walked, played, picked up after him. He even slept on my bed.”
“No wonder he bonded with you.” I picked up my drink and took a sip. “You were his person.”
Sadness filled his eyes. “Yeah, I was.”
The waiter came and took our order. I watched him walk away before I turned back to find C.T. staring at me.
“What parent doesn’t allow their kid to have pets? Did you at least have a goldfish?” The idea of it all seemed to stump him.
I sighed. “No. No goldfish, or rabbits, or hamsters. No Guinea pigs, or cats, dogs, gerbils, or anything else that needed fed, cared for, or watered. I wasn’t even allowed to substitute them for houseplants.”
“Wow. And I thought my parents were fucked.”
I tried to deflect. The conversation cut too close to the bone. “Let’s say that I spent my early life trying to hide from the religious upbringing my parents forced on me. Oppressive and guilt-inducing. I was brainwashed for a long, long time.”
C.T. rubbed his hand around his mouth, then reached out and took my hand over the table. “Parents can suck the life right out of you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That was many years and several billions ago.”
That made him crack a smile. “Does money really buy happiness?”
“In my experience, no. But it does make being miserable a whole lot more tolerable.”
After the meal we walked back. Taking our time to explore little areas with interesting flowers and watching some seabirds build a nest.
Everything wholesome and natural. The conversation had dwindled to only those things we saw and heard in the moment. Nothing even close to a personal nature was discussed as if by unspoken agreement.
We were in a private little cove when he took off his shirt. “I’m thinking a swim might not be a bad idea right about now.”
What was it with this man wanting to skinny dip? By the time he dropped his shorts, I had started to undress as well. Yes, it sounded like a great idea. The water looked inviting in the heat, and we had spent enough time after eating that cramps were unlikely to pull us under the water.
I dropped my shirt and the little bra that didn’t do more than keep my nipples from poking through my shirt.
“Mmm,” C.T. moaned. “Bring those pretty breasts over here.”
I looked down at my chest to make sure he was talking to me. “These?” I put my hands under each small globe. My nipples had already hardened from the cool breeze that blew over them and got even more so with the hungry look in his eyes.
“The very ones.”
I took a few steps to him. He slid his hands under my armpits and lifted me up to his hungry mouth. With tongue and teeth, he lavished praise on each of my breasts. Quick flicks of his tongue over my hard nipples made me shiver and I put my legs around him to try to hold myself up.
I know I’d pretty much paid him for sex, but I still wanted to know his thoughts. Wanted to hear him say the words I needed. “You like my breasts?”
“Fuck, yes. They’re so damn pretty. Your nipples are so sensitive they drive me fucking crazy.”
The words struck me through. No one. Not one man I’d ever been with had ever said anything even close to that when talking about my breasts.
Hot tears filled my eyes, and I squeezed my lids shut to keep from letting him see how much his words meant to me.
More so because I heard the raw sincerity in his voice.