Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I lean forward until my lips barely brush his ear. “Should we go back to my suite or yours?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
PHILLIP
I wake up in Casey’s bed and lean over to kiss her shoulder. She groans in protest, and I smile, stringing kisses down her arm.
“I’m sleeping,” she moans into her pillow making the words come out garbled.
“So? Wake up,” I tease, snaking my hand underneath the blanket until I can curve my hand around the base of her spine.
I don’t want to acknowledge it, but already, sadness tinges the air. It’s our last full day together. Overnight, we’ll sail back to Fort Lauderdale, and all the guests, including Casey, will disembark from the ship starting at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. I’ll leave slightly before that.
We’ve established what we’ll do. I’ve told Casey that I agree with her about keeping our relationship as it is: a lighthearted fling. I’ve promised her, and yet I can’t seem to reconcile the decision. It feels like I’m doing the wrong thing. I might be respecting her wishes, but is it cowardly not to push her on it? Not to indulge these wild feelings?
I don’t want to do it now. Not this morning when I have her pliant in my arms. She turns over, smiles sleepily up at me, and suggests that last night should have sated me enough.
She makes a good point. Yesterday afternoon, we ran from the pool to my suite, still sopping wet as we tumbled onto my bed together.
Then, even through dinner, we could barely eat.
“Stop,” she said, biting down on her smile.
“I’m not doing anything,” I replied.
She rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
We’d ended up in her suite after dinner. And now this morning, it’s like I’ve never held her before, never kissed her. I want her with a fierceness that feels untamable. Scary, even. But I don’t tell her. I turn her head, cradle her cheek, and kiss her as my hand slips up her thigh, bunching her pajama shorts. My fingers tease her panties, and then I tug them aside. I want to feel her there, but I touch everywhere else instead, torturing us both.
Finally, when I sink into her, my body pins her down; my hips thrust against hers, and she cries out loud enough that surely everyone can hear. We don’t care, though. There’s nothing outside these four walls.
“Casey,” I say, my lips pressing against hers.
My heart races so fast, and I want to tell her how I’m feeling then, but I don’t have the courage. I shake my head and push off her and go to the shower to cool off. There’s nothing to be done.
The arrangement stands.
Later that morning, Casey talks me into going out on an excursion with her on Grand Cayman. It’s a three-mile hike followed by a swim beneath a waterfall. I need to work, but Casey points out that I can work tomorrow and every day after that. After she’s gone.
I hate that she says it so casually as if it’s not as painful for her as it is for me.
I agree, though if I had the choice, Casey and I wouldn’t leave her suite all day. Why bother?
Still, we go and join a small group.
Our guide is a little nervous because I’m tagging along. After a few comments like “Sir, if you’d prefer a different route” and “Mr. Woodmont, is the pace okay?” I tell him to pretend like I’m not here, and we both seem more relaxed during the second portion of the hike.
Casey keeps up well, even though her tennis shoes aren’t the best fit for the strenuous trail.
“I assure you, I’m fine. Sienna and I did a hike early on that had me wishing for death. This is a cakewalk in comparison, I promise.”
Around lunchtime, we break through the last leg of the trail and find ourselves in a true tropical paradise. Centered in the clearing is a crystal clear swimming hole fed directly by a series of small waterfalls that flow down from the hilltops above us. A canopy of overgrown trees and foliage shades the scene. With how otherworldly it looks, it could be a secret meeting place for all kinds of magical creatures. Casey could be one. A nymph or a mermaid. She smiles as she slips out of her hiking gear. She’s in a one-piece bathing suit, but it’s very revealing. Her lush curves, every little dip and valley I’ve come to know so well. I walk over and spin her, leading us toward the water’s edge.
My hand grips her waist, and I feel her shiver.
I hate that we’re not alone. I’d take her right here on the grassy trail. Tugging her bathing suit down and . . .
“Should we jump in together?” Casey asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.