36
“Ready, Princess?”
“Depends. Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.” He flashes me that roguish smirk of his.
I climb into his pickup, drop my overnight bag at my feet, and slam the door a little too hard. Excitement courses through my whole body.
Vadim laughs and looks at me, but doesn’t start the engine.
“What are you waiting for?”
“My koala kiss.”
I throw myself at him, grab the strings of his black hoodie, press my nose to his, and nuzzle him playfully.
“What, that’s it?”
I stick out the tip of my tongue and slide it over his lips. Vadim lets out a sigh of pleasure then tries to kiss me, but I tease him by pulling back.
“Not so fast, you little tease…”
He grabs me by the neck and presses his mouth against mine.
He smells like Skittles. I moan into his lips when he slips his tongue in and starts toying with me.
His kisses always have the same effect, even after the thousandth one.
They unsettle me. Carry me away. Then they stop and leave me breathless and disoriented.
When Vadim lets me go, my cheeks are flushed, my legs are shaking, and my heart is beating wildly.
“We just reinvented the koala kiss, Lancaster,” he whispers, both proud and incredibly cocky.
We hit the road with exhilarated smiles on our faces. After only twenty minutes, Vadim pulls up along the curb on Ocean Avenue, facing Santa Monica Bay. I gaze up at our destination.
“Vadim, it’s a palace!”
“Well, I am dating a princess…”
A valet takes charge of parking the pickup, pretending not to notice the stark contrast between the beat-up truck and the hotel’s obvious prestige. The whole thing is slightly comical.
In the grand lobby, towering California palm trees stretch all the way to the ceiling, creating a space that feels both lush and luxurious.
After a quick stop at the front desk and a pointed look from the hostess, who clearly thinks we’re too young to be spending a night in such an expensive hotel, the elevator carries us up to our suite.
We step into a spacious, bright, and airy room.
A large bed commands the center of the space.
Beyond it, a cozy yet elegant sitting area leads to a glass door that opens onto a beautiful, furnished balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
In the distance, I can make out the illuminated Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier.
The place where we had our second date—the one where everything changed.
It’s so romantic that it leaves me speechless.
“Do you remember, Alma?”
He wraps his arms around me.
“How could I forget?”
“Don’t forget the Skittles, too…”
He chuckles softly, and I push him away. He drops onto the nearest couch.
“I give you my heart, the ocean, the whole world, and this is how you treat me, Lancaster,” Vadim sighs, sprawling out with his arms spread wide, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Feeling amused, touched, thrilled—a little bit of everything at once—I lie down on top of him. I run my hands through his hair and press my lips to his neck.
“The best place in the world is wherever you are, Vadim Arcadi. And your heart is mine. Don’t you dare give it to anyone else.”
I nibble on his earlobe, and he lets out a husky groan.
“Easy there, Princess. Your dad told me to be on my best behavior.”
“You’re sure you want me to stop?”
I start again.
“Damn, daddy’s girls are never as innocent as they look…”
I smile and let myself slide down his body. My mouth stops just above the waistband of his jeans, and my hands lift his white tee a little. I kiss the soft skin of his stomach, and with two fingers, tackle his button.
“What are you doing, Alma Lancaster?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Vadim Arcadi…”
I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do—how to do it, how far to go, how long to keep going, whether to be fast or slow.
But I find myself enjoying the power I have over him.
His sighs quickening with the rhythm of my mouth.
His pleasure, which I completely control.
His pleasure, which becomes mine, when I see him close his eyes, tremble all over, and moan my name.
***
We order whatever we want from room service. I make Vadim watch episodes from the first season of The Last of Us, and he makes fun of my undying love for Pedro Pascal. We bicker. We kiss. We laze around and enjoy being alone, free, and in love.
Once night falls, we decide to go see the ocean.
On the asphalt, Vadim takes me by the hand and starts running so fast I’m carried along by sheer momentum. I do my best to keep up with him, the cool evening air whipping against my face. It only takes us a few minutes to reach the pier overlooking the ocean. I’m out of breath. He’s barely winded.
“A moment’s silence for the Skittles that met their end that night…”
“Keep it up and you might join them,” I whisper in his ear.
He laughs, and that sound, so pure, so perfect, stirs something deep inside me.
Vadim leans forward, takes my face in his hands, and stops when his lips are only a few inches from mine. “On that date, I wanted to do this a hundred times… No, a thousand times.”
Vadim kisses me tenderly. He captures my lips, and our kiss immediately deepens. It’s the only thing he and I know how to do: want each other, always more, through every storm, every battle we face.
“Come on!” I cry out, tearing myself away from him.
This time, I’m the one who grabs his hand and pulls him into a wild dash. We run back down the pier, then leap onto the sand when we get to the end. With the guy I love close behind me, I laugh as I sprint toward the ocean, my body light, my heart overflowing.
“Ah so it’s time for a midnight swim?” he calls out to me.
He overtakes me and starts running backwards.
“It was on your list,” he continues.
“Are you game, Arcadi?”
“Hmm, it’s not midnight, though. It’s only 10 p.m.”
“Are you chickening out?”
“The water can’t be more than sixty degrees…”
“Afraid of getting cold, tough guy?”
“There might be some pervert hanging around who will see you!”
“Who says I wouldn’t like that?”
His smile turns into a fierce grin. “Okay, you asked for it!”
Vadim pounces on me, wraps one arm around my waist, and the other under my knees.
He lifts me off the ground, starts running, and enters the water, yelling.
A second later, he sends us both plunging under the surface.
The icy water takes my breath away, and I come back up with a shriek, calling him every name I can think of.
“I wasn’t ready, Arcadi! And now my clothes are soaked. They’re never going to dry! Stop laughing, or I’ll drown you!”
He continues to laugh loudly. Pushing his hair back, he splashes me to make me stop, and then comes to take me in his arms. I’m shivering, and he is too, but he kisses me anyway. I bite him, curse him, and he holds me tighter and laughs even harder.
We drag ourselves out of the water, make our way back up the beach, and end up leaning against one of the large pillars supporting the pier.
There, hidden from view, Vadim presses himself against me and steals another kiss.
I can feel warmth spreading through me. His hands trace every curve of my body beneath my wet clothes.
Drops of seawater slide down his hair and bead on my face, making our kisses salty. Even more intense.
I no longer know if I’m shivering from the cold or from wanting him so much.
“Let’s go back, Alma. You’re going to get sick.”
Soaked to the bone, we run back across the sand until we reach Ocean Avenue. We enter the hotel lobby, which is deserted except for the receptionist and her disapproving stare. Her eyes narrow as she follows the wet tracks we leave behind with every step.
The squelch of our waterlogged shoes mingles with our muffled laughter.
We race to the elevator, the metal doors close, and we fall into each other again.
Again, those hands—cool and impatient—messing up my hair, undressing me, wanting me.
Again, those lips—warm and hungry—kissing me, nipping me, devouring me.
Again, our floor, our room, the keycard refusing to slide into the slot because Vadim’s fingers are trembling too much.
Again, my body against his body, his body in mine…
and the warmth returning, sweeping everything away.
Everything.
Even us.