Chapter 9
Steven
“Steven! How’s it hanging?” Mike seems even more upbeat than usual as he approaches the hammock outside my flat, interrupting a perfectly tranquil afternoon.
I sit up, shaking the hair out of my face and narrow my eyes at him. “S’all good. Sorry for bailing last night, but you were killing it with Victoria, mate! I didn’t want to stand in your way.”
“Of course.” Mike respects me too much to roll his eyes, but I can feel his disdain for my little white lie anyway.
“I was just tired. You know I don’t like big groups.” As I run through my list of the same old excuses, I realize Junie was right. I’m a curmudgeon.
Fuck, that ruins my five minute streak of not thinking about her today.
I’ve been beating myself up all morning for letting her slip through my fingers like that.
She’s like liquid sunshine. She’d practically thrown herself at me, and I ran away like a coward.
What kind of self-defeating asshole have I become?
“Ah,” Mike nods sagely, clasping his hands behind his back. “So it had nothing to do with a gorgeous blonde? That, I could forgive. But this…”
His words poke the sore spot and I have to steel myself against flinching. “I don’t sleep with clients, Mike. You know that. The island is too small. I won’t risk our professional reputation.”
At least that’s what I’d told myself as I jacked off in the shower last night. It didn’t help. The cool water did nothing to soothe the burning in my chest when I thought of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I wanted to stick my thumb between them, open her up for me, claim her with my tongue.
“You’re too hard on yourself. She got her certification. She’s not a customer anymore, she could just be a friend. You do know what that is?”
“Yeah, a friend is someone who drags you to the pub and then ditches you for a British babe.” I roll my shoulders back, physically uncomfortable with snapping at Mike. “It threw off my whole sleeping schedule,” I grumble in a weak apology.
He winces. “Is that why you’re such a grouch? Or is that just the broken heart talking?”
I choke on a laugh and fold my arms over my chest. “I chose not to sleep with a beautiful woman hours before she got on a plane, never to be seen again. It’s not my heart that was aching.”
Mike makes a face I can’t interpret. I know he’s not annoyed by my crass joke. He gives the canvas a push so that I begin to rock in the breeze, and doesn’t meet my eyes.
“So if she were here longer, you would’ve gone for it? You’re turning soft on me.” His expression transforms into a playful grin. “I think you have a big heart, Steven. Where have you been hiding it all this time?”
“Sure, mate,” I agree just to end the discussion.
There’s no point in playing this game with him.
I haven’t pursued a real relationship since I arrived on the island and I have my reasons, as he knows perfectly well.
Maybe he’s ready to start enjoying the spoils of working in the tourism industry himself and he just needs some encouragement.
“What about Victoria? Are you gonna go for it?”
He sighs and leans against a palm tree. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t really be appropriate, with her being a volunteer and all.”
“Fuck that,” I say. Mike has never shown more than a passing interest in a girl before. If he’s even considering it, I want this for him. But he’s such a stickler for following the rules. “There’s no law against it, is there? You would know.”
“I wrote the volunteer handbook. It doesn’t say anything about relationships.”
“Well there you go. You’re both consenting adults.” This is more touchy feely talk than we’ve ever done sober, but I can’t help being happy for the guy. Victoria is a flirt, but if anyone deserves a confidence boost, it’s Mike. Judging by his floaty disposition today, it’s already working.
“She’s only here a few more weeks.”
“That’s plenty of time.” My voice sounds unnaturally hearty even to me.
I must be feeling extra guilty about ditching him last night—or eager not to get dragged out again.
I just want to veg out by myself, figure out what comes next for me.
I’d feel better about it if Mike had someone to distract him. “Maybe she can extend her stay.”
“Hmm, I guess there’s no rule about that either. It could get messy.”
“You won’t let it.” I completely believe that.
And if she does anything to break his heart, I’ll deal with her myself.
Nobody fucks with Mike. “You only live once, mate. If you see something you want, you’ve got to take it.
That’s my advice.” I flip my sunnies back down on my face and fall back into the hammock, hoping he’ll take the hint.
“I appreciate your wisdom.” I have no idea why Mike is smirking so much, but I blame it on him being newly crushed out. Good on him, but I’m ready to be left alone with my thoughts. “I’ll let you get back to it. Enjoy your day off.”
“Yeah, right. You know I’ll be by to check on things later.”
“You need a life.” Mike grins as he walks away. Almost as an afterthought, as he turns to close the gate behind him, he calls, “By the way, we have a new volunteer starting today.”
“Great,” I say, although I don’t really care. Managing volunteers is his thing. Interns are mine.
The moment he’s out of sight, I rub at my dick, pushing painfully against my daks. I’m fighting a losing battle against the memory of bare tits beneath my singlet.
Maybe an ocean away, she’ll wear it to bed and think about me while she touches herself. That’s the most I can hope for, but it gives me a pleasurable ache.
The seabreeze blows through the palm trees and my forearms erupt in goosebumps as I check to either side. My front garden is mercifully private, though I’ve never done what I’m about to do.
I can’t fight it anymore. I unbutton, freeing my cock from its strain against the zipper. I’m hard and hot, still ready to go after jacking off several times since the party last night.
She did something to me. Her laugh was like a siren call. The bounce of her wavy hair, brushing the tops of her breasts. I wonder how it would feel in my bed, breathing her in, tickling my skin.
I stroke my shaft, rolling my hand over the head and across my weeping tip. Of course I have urges, I’m still a man, but fucking tourists got old quick. Pretending like we’d keep in touch, knowing I was just another part of their wild holiday yarn, made me feel empty. Temporary. Useless.
I can’t touch her, but I can imagine. She’d gotten under my skin in a way no one has in years. I tug on my cock as I picture her in my bed, spread open and ready for me.
My lips part on a groan as I fantasize about sliding into her wet heat. She’s wearing nothing but my shirt, nipples pebbled against the fabric like they’d been on the boat.
Fuck, what has she done to me? I could’ve taken her right there on the deck, in front of everyone, the sun shining down on our bare asses. If I were a few years younger, I might’ve lured her away from the party, back to her room, and feasted on her folds until she was begging for my cock.
The thought of her on her knees for me is my undoing. I shoot my load with a strangled groan. I pump my shaft, breathing hard until the shudders are gone, relaxing back into the hammock. I’m spent. Wrecked. All over a woman who is already on a flight back home, never to be heard from again.
I tuck myself away and lie back with my arms crossed behind my head. There’s no chance of relaxation today. I can’t sit around, alone with my thoughts. My dick will start chafing if I’m left to my own devices much longer.
With a grunt, I climb out of the hammock and go back into the house to clean up and change. I'll just throw myself into physical labor—it’s always worked before. Surrounded by animals, rubbish, and bright-eyed interns, there’s no chance of growing another unwanted boner.
Probably. I hope.