Chapter Seven

Wyatt

Wyatt couldn't believe he'd turned her down. Again. She'd offered him another chance in her bed, and he'd said no. That he wanted to wait.

He was an idiot.

His body wanted her. He'd been glad that the table hid his obvious attraction to her. She was made for loving with her soft curves and warm smile. Today's dress was worse for his self-control than yesterday's dress. The dress was practically see-through, and he kept staring, hoping that he'd catch a glance of something.

It was a beautiful kind of torture.

And then she'd offered herself to him — screaming orgasms in her room.

Usually, after a suggestion like that, he would be the one dragging the girl up the stairs to her room. But those dates always ended with him leaving before she fell asleep. He didn't remember their names. They blurred together. While fun, they went quickly. They didn't mean anything to him.

He didn't want Cassie to blur. He wanted her to remain crisp and perfect in his memory. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to enjoy this.

It was different than his usual seductions.

It felt better.

Wyatt paused as he walked the length of the dock to where the jet-skis waited. What was he thinking? Cassie was just another tourist. She would leave in a couple of days. She would fade into another happy memory just like the rest. So why was he trying to make this last? Why did he want to take his time and actually get to know her?

He didn't have an answer for that.

You're just making it last longer, he told himself. That was the reason. He was making the seduction last. He was enjoying her and this way, he would have more time. She wouldn't just disappear after sex. This was a way to get three days instead of only one. He was trying something new.

Sure. That was it.

He put a mini-cooler from the bar and a hotel beach towel into the small storage area of the jet-ski he'd rented. He tried to wait patiently. To any observer, he looked calm, but inside, he was all butterflies and electric energy. Every person that stepped out onto the deck caught his attention. He checked his watch every thirty seconds, each time surprised to see that only half a minute had passed. To him, it felt like hours.

Finally, she arrived, right at the fifteen minute mark. She wore a long t-shirt and sandals. Her hair was pulled back up into a ponytail. She chewed on her lip as she approached the dock and then broke into a full-fledged smile as soon as she saw him.

“Hi.”

It was the same greeting as before, and it made his stomach do happy cartwheels again.

“Hey. You have a swimsuit on?” he asked, hoping she'd show it to him.

“Yup.” She nodded but didn't lift her shirt to show him. “That's the jet-ski, right? I've never been on one.”

She stepped past him to look at the vehicle. The ocean breeze tugged at her shirt, exposing the curve of her butt and giving him a peek of her swimsuit. She was close enough to touch, and he had to take a deep breath and control himself. They had the rest of the afternoon. He could enjoy this and take his time.

“You ready?” he asked her. He handed her a life-jacket.

“I don't know how to do this,” she replied. “I mean, I know how to put on a life-jacket. I don't know how to ride a jet-ski.”

“Don't worry. I'll drive.” Wyatt chuckled as he put on his own orange vest. He deftly swung a leg over the jet-ski and then motioned her to join him.

She swallowed and then tried to mimic his movements. She succeeded in nearly knocking them both into the water. The jet-ski rocked dangerously, and her arms flailed until she wrapped them around him.

He liked the way she felt wrapped around him. Her arms were stronger than he expected, but it could also be that she was afraid of falling in the water. She was warm and soft, pressed up against him. It was a good thing she sat behind him, or she would have something poking into her back for the rest of the ride.

“Sorry,” she murmured. Her voice was soft in his ears. She shifted, keeping her grip tight on him. “Where are we going?”

“You'll see,” he told her and started up the engine.

The jet-ski roared to life. He revved it a couple of times, feeling the vibrations rumble through the both of them. One of his previous dates had told him this was the best foreplay she'd gotten in years. That was before he'd had his way with her.

He moved slowly away from the dock before gaining speed. The open ocean beckoned to them. Caribbean blue water shimmered in the bright sunlight, and Wyatt hoped they would run into dolphins. Women always loved to see the dolphins.

Once they were in the open water, Wyatt opened up the engine. Cassie shrieked and held onto him, but when he risked a glance back, she was grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkled with enjoyment. So Wyatt went faster.

He played in the waves, catching them to get air. She whooped with delight every time they went up in the air. Wyatt found her enthusiasm contagious. He sped across the water, giving her a fun-filled ride.

He wasn't just showing off. He actually had a destination in mind. There was a small sandy island just a few hundred yards from shore. It was usually used for private weddings or romantic picnics, but since it was an afternoon in the middle of the week, the island was empty.

It was the ideal spot to woo a woman.

“Oh, there's an island,” Cassie said as they approached. She rose slightly on her feet to get a better look. “It's beautiful.”

Wyatt beached the jet-ski on the soft white sand, making sure that he accounted for the tide. They wouldn't be here long, but the last thing he wanted was to lose a jet-ski. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to buy the resort another one, it was that he would never hear the end of it. Plus, they needed a way to get back home.

“Wow.” Cassie stood looking along the beach. The place was more sand bar than an actual island. There were four palm trees and just a couple of shrubs in the center, but the tourists loved to have their own 'private' island for a few hours.

“Want a tour?” Wyatt asked, taking off his life-jacket.

“Sure,” she replied with a grin. She carefully removed hers as well, setting it neatly in the sand beside his life-jacket. The edges of her shirt were wet from sea spray and clung to her skin. It was nearly impossible for Wyatt to pull his eyes away. All he could see was her curves and hints of smooth skin calling for his touch.

They walked along the small beach, with the trees to their left as they walked the circle of the island. The sand was warm beneath their feet with the sun hiding behind a small group of clouds.

“So, here we have some palm trees,” he said, motioning to the small grove. “They provide shade and are the main attraction here on the island.

Cassie giggled. “How interesting!”

They walked for a bit, making small talk. She was so easy to talk to that he didn't mind that they kept circling the island.

“I don't have any kids. Janessa and Brianna do, but it never happened for me. It's part of the reason I got divorced,” she was saying. She looked over at him and blushed crimson. “And now I'm being boring and just talking about myself. Sorry.”

“Definitely not boring,” Wyatt assured her. The fact that she was divorced didn't bother him. Many of the women he met were divorced. He grinned over at her. “You have any siblings?”

“Why? You want to know if I have a younger sister you can date?” she teased. She grinned at him. “I don't have a little sister. I have a little brother, but he's married.”

“Aw shucks,” Wyatt replied with a fake disappointed look.

“You?” Cassie asked. “Any siblings? Divorces?”

“No divorces and I'm an only child,” he replied. “My mom died when I was little, so it was just my dad and me for a long time.”

“That sounds like you are close,” she said, looking down the beach like she was looking for something.

He nodded. “We were. He died when I was in college.” His throat tightened, but he kept his head up.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly.

“I wanted to be just like him for a long time. He was everything I wanted to be, and then he was gone.” Wyatt didn't usually tell people this. He didn't talk much about his dad. The man had been a force of nature. He was always moving, always working. Wyatt had tried to do that for a long time, but it only burned him out.

That was why he was here. He wasn't his father. He didn't want to work himself into an early grave like his father had. He had to learn from his father's mistakes.

She looked thoughtful, taking him in again. “What kind of business did you have?”

“A small one,” he said, waving his hand like he could brush the question away. He'd given her too much information about himself without realizing it. “I sold it.”

“And now you're serving drinks in the Caribbean for fun. You just keep getting more interesting,” she told him. “Layers and layers.”

“Like an onion or a parfait?” he asked, referencing the movie Shrek.

“Parfait.” She grinned at him. “You like making waffles?”

“You saying you want a sleep-over?”

“Maybe.” She flushed a little bit and looked down at her feet. They'd walked the whole of the island several times, and they were back where they started with their life-jackets.

Wyatt grabbed the small cooler and towel from the jet-ski, took off his shirt, and sat in the warm sand. “Come sit with me.”

She hesitated for a moment. Her face said it all. She didn't hesitate because she didn't want him, but because she couldn't believe this was real. He'd seen that look before, but it had never looked as good as it did on her. Her expression was innocent and excited. There was wonder in her face that made him feel like a god among men.

She settled in the sand beside him. Close enough that it was flirting, yet still enough distance to show she was nervous. She didn't do this kind of thing. She was a good girl, and the idea that he was helping her be bad was a powerful aphrodisiac.

“Here.” He handed her a bottle filled with pink liquid. She held it and took a cautious sip.

“Sex on the beach.” She grinned and took a bigger sip. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at him. “Are you trying to get me drunk all the way out here on our own little beach?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug. Her eyes went wide, and he chuckled. “These are virgin drinks. I have to be able to drive you home.”

She laughed and drank again without hesitation. “When you said we'd have 'sex on the beach,' this wasn't quite what I had in mind. It's good, just not quite what I was expecting.”

“And what were you expecting?” This was the part where things got good. He could feel it in his bones. His voice came out low and deep.

She chewed on her bottom lip again. Desire flared up in her eyes, and he could see it battling her self-control. He hoped she would let the desire win.

“I was hoping for some sex on the beach like this.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was more peck than kiss. It went so fast that it didn't even register in a kiss in his mind before she had already pulled back.