Chapter Four – Gabriel
Gabriel
I SWIM MY twentieth lap and get out of the sea. The water is warm, and the sun beats down on my back. I stare at the sky, enjoying the fresh air and the smell of the sea. When I reach the large mat spread on the beach, under an enormous umbrella, I grab a towel and rub myself dry.
I head back to the house, wondering if Harper is awake. Yet, as soon as I walk in, I sense the quiet of the house. I pad to the bedroom, careful not to wake her. She”s sleeping on her front, with her arms crossed on the pillow; her head lying on them.
She”s always busy doing something or another; it”s strange to see her so still. I”m tempted to step in farther and examine the bow of her mouth, little upturned nose and arched eyebrows, but I don”t want to wake her.
I move to the kitchen and get breakfast ready. There’s bacon and sausages in the refrigerator so I warm them up and fry eggs, sunny side up, making a note to ask how she likes them.
I remember telling her about how I got my scar and I grimace. I”ve never told anyone about that. It was hard and cringy, yet I wanted her to know about my life.
Footsteps sound in the hallway.
“Good morning,” she says.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Sorry, I fell asleep on you last night. Too much champagne, wine and fresh air.”
I didn”t want to wake her, so I carried her inside and put her to bed.
She looks around the massive kitchen and heads for a cabinet; pulls out the drawers and removes cutlery; places it on the table.
“Bacon, eggs, and sausages, okay?”
“It is, and it smells wonderful. Let me make breakfast tomorrow.”
“We can do it together. Mrs. Baton did most of this, I just reheated it.”
“What time did you wake up?” She asks after we start eating.
“At sunrise. It”s a habit. I watched the sunrise and swam.”
“Do you swim every day? You always stay at a hotel with a swimming pool when you travel.”
“It”s another habit. It helps to keep my leg strong.”
Harper hesitates.
I hate answering questions about my personal life. It’s part of the reason I don’t have many friends. The idea of opening up about my life is uncomfortable. Why do I find her curiosity cute?
“It’s okay. Ask.”
“Does it hurt? Your leg?”
“Rarely, if I hike for long periods of time, like six hours or more. That’s why I swim, it puts less pressure on it. I was born with it; I’ve learnt to live with it. So, there’s no problem with carrying you.”
She looks out the window.
“I can’t believe you’re still teasing me about that photo incident.”
A smile hovers around her lips.
“It turns out I enjoy teasing you.”
Harper blushes.
“I’ll wash up.” She gathers crockery.
I clear the table and wash up with her.
“What are we doing today?”
“We can swim and snorkel or go shopping on the main island.”
“Swimming and snorkeling sound wonderful. If you’re okay with it.”
I leave her to change while I get the snorkeling equipment from the shed.
“Do you have much experience with snorkeling?” I ask when she comes outside. I busy myself putting on my gear to stop ogling the curves barely hidden by her bikini.
“My parents couldn’t afford fancy holidays. Every summer, we’d load up our car with groceries and travel around. Most of the time we camped in woodlands but sometimes, we’d go to the sea. Snorkeling didn’t cost any money, so we did that and swam a lot.”
We swim leisurely towards the ocean. I stop her when I spot a place we can explore. We spend a couple of hours checking out the marine life and are lucky enough to spot a turtle.
Back on the beach, we dry up and sit on the beach mat, watching the sea as we down iced lemonade from the cool box I brought out earlier.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Not yet.”
Beads of water fall from her black, tightly curled hair to the bare honey skin of her shoulders. The need to taste that tempting skin rises, making me salivate.
I reach across and chase a drop with a finger down her back, until I reach the top of her white bikini, which soaks up the drop.
Harper shivers.
“Cold?”
I glance at her face. Dilated, dark brown eyes meet mine.
A pink tongue moistens soft, nude lips.
“No,” she whispers.
I trail my finger up her back, past the tie of her bikini, and trace the delicate curve of her neck. She shivers under my touch, her satiny skin erupting in goosebumps despite the heat of the tropical sun beating down on us.
I can”t tear my gaze away from her. In her tiny bikini, she’s all lush curves and honey skin that begs to be touched, tasted, worshipped. My eyes lock onto hers, the air between us crackling with the force of our mutual desire.
”Harper.” Her name falls from my lips like a reverent prayer.
Then I”m kissing her, hot and urgent and deep. She melts into me with a soft moan that sets my blood on fire, her lips parting to welcome the sweep of my tongue. She tastes of strawberries and sunshine and something uniquely Harper. Sweet, addictive, and intoxicating.
She twines her arms around my neck, pressing the soft swells of her breasts against the hard planes of my chest as if she can”t get close enough. I want to burrow under her skin, to sink so deep inside her warmth that we fuse into one perfect being.
Without breaking the kiss, I lower us onto the warm beach mat.
My hands roam greedily over her silken flesh as I strip away her bikini top, desperate to feel every inch of her. Her full breasts spill into my palms, the dusky nipples pebbling against my roughened skin. I dip my head to take one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak before drawing on it firmly.
Harper arches beneath me, a moan falling from her kiss-swollen lips. ”Gabriel, please...”
”Please what, baby?”
My lips trail wet, open-mouthed kisses along the slender column of her throat. Her pulse hammers wildly beneath my tongue and it sends a thrill of masculine pride through me, knowing the effect I have on her.
”Tell me what you need.”
”You,” she gasps as I find that sweet spot just below her ear that makes her shudder. ”I need you, Gabriel.”