Touching Paradise (7 page)

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Authors: Cleo Peitsche

BOOK: Touching Paradise
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She thought of her friends at the hotel. Hopefully Tara and everyone who’d gotten sick were feeling better. Maybe they were all at the pool now, or shopping. They were going to be so jealous when they saw the photos. Especially of Koenraad. She peeked at him through her lashes and saw that his eyes were also closed, and he was breathing evenly. Asleep.
 

The bronze of his skin begged to be licked. He’d probably taste salty, like the ocean. Her gaze slid down his perfect chest and torso, the rigid lines of his abs. There was a perfect whorl of golden hair running from his navel into his skimpy swimsuit. And the bulge… She could see the outline of his cock and balls.
 

The urge to mouth that bulge was surprisingly strong. She didn’t even like giving oral sex, so why was she thinking about it now…?

She glanced back at Koenraad and was relieved that his eyes were still closed.

With a sigh, she relaxed again, enjoying the sounds of the water lapping the boat, the wind stirring her hair, and an occasional, almost imperceptible splash.
 

“You like your job?” Koenraad asked, his voice a low, lazy rumble that thrilled her. He was so
masculine
. He made the guys she’d dated seem like women in expensive suits.
 

“It’s ok,” she said. “No one fantasizes about being middle management.”

His laugh rolled over her body, making her tingle, and she remembered again the steady warmth of his skin under her palms. “I guess not,” he said. “You have plans to change careers?”

“This is already my third career. The first two didn’t end well.”
 

“I’m listening.”

She hadn’t intended to pique his curiosity. Her employment history wasn’t very flattering. “As an undergraduate, I worked part-time filing papers in a real estate office. They offered to bring me on full-time after graduation. It was supposed to be a semi-internship, the idea being that I’d make less but learn the ropes. But after a year, it was clear they had no intention of paying me a real salary.” She stopped, remembering the day Tara had sent her an advertisement for more “interns” at the company. Tara had insisted she confront her boss, which Monroe had done. “I asked for a raise and they fired me.”
 

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not. I’m glad, now, but it took me six months to find another job. It wasn’t easy.” And in that time, she’d maxed out her already strained credit cards, and had gone into debt to Tara and Nya, who were the most understanding roommates in the history of the world.
 

“So first career was real estate. Second?”

“Waitress. By the time I got the job at Pet Palace, I was working at three places. A pizza franchise four nights a week, another pizza franchise three nights a week, and a local brunch place Friday, Saturday and Sunday mornings.” She opened her eyes and blinked, the bright sun pricking her eyes. “I’m going to grab my sunglasses,” she said.

“Take mine.” Koenraad sat up and handed over his. “Why did you have to work so much?”

She shrugged and put on his glasses. The tint made the blues of the sky and ocean more vivid. “These are nice!”

“Then they’re yours,” he said, leaning back onto his elbows.

“No, I couldn’t—”
 

“It’s the only brand I like, and I tend to break things, so I’ve got plenty more.” He studied her. “They’re a lot sexier on you,” he said.
 

It didn’t feel like a knee-jerk compliment, designed to flatter, and she felt herself blushing even warmer in the noon sun. “Thanks,” she murmured, embarrassed. What had he asked her? Oh, right. Her jobs. “I had a lot of student loans, and my mother had taken out a second mortgage to help with my tuition, and I’m paying that, too. Unfortunately, not really an unusual story.”

“Have you always been so responsible?”

“Boring, you mean,” she said quietly, remembering what Thomas had said.

“I wasn’t aware that responsible equals boring,” he said. “Is that a New York thing?”

She blinked. “No. My boyfriend. My ex, I mean. He said I was boring.”

“He sounds like a jackass.”

She turned her head so he wouldn’t see her amusement, but when she spoke, the smile colored her voice. “He is.” She paused. “But maybe he had a point, too. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I don’t know you well, but you don’t strike me as boring. You were terrified of the water, yet you jumped in anyway. A boring person would be sitting next to the hotel pool.”

She decided not to tell him how close she’d come to choosing that route. “How did you know I was scared?”

He merely smiled, and at that moment she felt like his gaze penetrated her soul.
 

“What about you?” she stammered out to fill the silence. “Do you really race boats?”

“For fun. I provide private security for an organization. It’s something I fell into, but it turns out that I enjoy it.”

“Really? Wow. Though… actually, that doesn’t surprise me.” All those muscles, and the fast reflexes.

He turned his head toward her. “Why is that?”

“You… ooze confidence.”

“Ooze?” He made a face.
 

She found herself laughing again. “It’s a compliment.”

“In that case, thank you.” Something about the way he said it was sexy as hell. He was so polite but sincere, which was incredible because if she’d ever met a man who could get away with being an arrogant jerk, it was someone as attractive as Koenraad. “You never told me your ideal job,” he said.

“I wanted to be a real estate agent,” she said with a laugh. “My aunt is in real estate, and I thought she was so glamorous, always dressed up when she came over for dinner. I loved going to open houses with her. I have this knack for knowing how to match people to their perfect homes. When I worked at Hahnmanner Realty, the agents asked me to sit in on the interviews, and then they’d quiz me afterward. My recommendations were always right.” She smiled, still proud of that.
 

“But you didn’t get commissions?”

She shrugged. “Technically, I wasn’t selling the houses. Too busy making coffee, troubleshooting computer problems, and updating the website with listings.”

“Still,” he said, his voice bordering on a growl.
 

“One of the agents always gave me gift cards to local restaurants. Actually, that’s how I got the first waitress job. I was there with my roommates, using the last of the gift cards, and the food took forever to come out. The waitress said they were understaffed. I joked that it was a shame I wasn’t a cook. Of course, it wasn’t a joke. I needed a job, and the waitress said they were hiring servers, too.” She glanced at him. “What’s security like?”

“Mostly boring.” He stood gracefully and held out a hand. “Ready to explore?”

She placed her hand into his and allowed him to gently pull her to standing. He really was quite tall. She’d have to go up on her tiptoes just to kiss his chin.
 

He was very careful not to let go of her as they picked their way through a cutout in the lower cabin’s windshield. Then he escorted her to the upper cabin via an internal set of stairs. She was relieved that he went first, that she didn’t have to worry about her ass being eye-level.
 

“Where are we heading?”

“My favorite place,” he said with a smile as he flipped up the seat so that there was room to stand. He toggled two levers and pushed a button. The boat’s motor hummed awake. If there were fish innocently hanging out under the boat, they had probably gotten the scare of their lives. He pushed another lever and the boat smoothly cleaved through the water. “You want to steer?”

“The boat?” she asked, wincing at how stupid the question was.

“Sure.”

She started to shake her head, but Koenraad was already moving her hands to the steering wheel, which seemed quite small in relation to the boat. But then, her knowledge of boats had flatlined somewhere around old Popeye episodes. Koenraad stood behind her, his body wrapped around her yet barely touching. Too bad. She felt him, though, an invisible force like two magnets slowly pulling together. But then he leaned forward and pulled down a lever, and the boat moved faster. She fell back against his solid chest.

“I think that’s enough driving for me,” she said, already sidling away. “See? Boring.”

He allowed her to slip to the side, but she didn’t go far. Already she missed his smooth skin.

It was hard to judge how fast they were going now that there wasn’t anything stationary nearby, but from the steady vibration of the engine, it felt fast.

He pulled the seat down, then sat. The bench was wide enough for two, but she didn’t feel comfortable just plopping down there. She stayed where she was, trying not to look at the tantalizing bulge in his swimsuit, trying not to imagine what his muscular waist would feel like gripped between her inner thighs.

About twenty minutes later, he slowed the yacht. They weren’t very far from what looked like a small island. Two other boats were docked at the tiny pier, and there were a few small, rather rundown buildings near the docks, too. Otherwise, the area looked deserted.

“That’s where we’re going?”

He nodded. He toggled levers, worked a joystick, and the boat rotated. Monroe stared at a scrawny mutt that was nosing through the rubble of what might have been a very small shack, perhaps a tollbooth, though whatever it had been guarding was long gone.
 

Then she had the pleasure of watching Koenraad tie the boat up. His muscles rippled as he worked, and she stared openly, taking advantage of his distraction. There hadn’t been many times in her life when she’d wanted to fuck a guy she didn’t know. She wanted this man. He would be good in bed. She was sure of that… he was too perceptive not to be. But even if he just lay there like a lump, he’d still be more fun than Thomas.

Koenraad came back aboard and lowered a walkway. “Ready?” he asked.
 

For dry land? Absolutely.
“Don’t you need keys or something?”

“Everyone knows everyone else here, and people are nosy as hell,” he said with a laugh.

She grabbed her bag, and as soon as she was on the dock, she yanked the yellow coverup over her head. Perfect. No more sucking in her stomach and trying to keep Koenraad from standing behind her.

They walked along a short boardwalk, then into soft sand. The houses were connected by a packed sandy road. Koenraad led her past all of that, and through an arid area. A woman on a bike pedaled by, mumbling a greeting to them as she passed.
 

“Everyone here is so friendly. Are people happy, or is it a government conspiracy to keep the tourists coming back?”

Koenraad arched an eyebrow. “So you wanna come back?”

She felt herself blushing. Thankfully, Koenraad asked another question. “Is it really so bad where you live?”

“No. It’s… different. You’ve never been to New York?”

“I have, years ago. I liked it, but I need access to the ocean.”

Insects buzzed in the air, and unfamiliar black and orange birds swooped overhead. “This way,” Koenraad said. Their path had risen, though Monroe wouldn’t have considered it an actual hill, and now they were certainly going down, down, down.
 

“Ready?” Koenraad asked. He grabbed her hand and steadied her as they approached a steep bit. The sand had turned to rock, and Monroe’s sandals were most definitely not up to the challenge.

A moment later, her breath caught in her throat. There was a crystal-clear lake in front of them, the water still as glass. “What is this place?”

Koenraad swept an arm in a wide semi-circle. “See how it’s round?”

“Volcano?”

“Meteor.”

“Where does the water come from?”

He smiled. “If you can hold your breath for thirty seconds, I’ll show you.”

Her heart stopped, and her feet slowed. Koenraad turned to look at her.
 

“Um… how deep is it?”

A smile stretched across his handsome face. “Not nearly as deep as the ocean.”

She cast him a dubious look.
 

“And there aren’t any penguins or seals or whatever attacked your tour boat.”

“It was a shark.”
 

He tugged her beach bag off her shoulder and carefully set it on a rock. “You are safe with me, Monroe.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.”

He shook his head, his brows drawing together. “Then what?”

“I…” How to explain a fear of water to a guy who’d grown up next to the ocean? “I’m not a strong swimmer.”

He squinted up at the sun, and she held his sunglasses out to him. He shook his head.

“What?” she asked, worried that she’d offended him. She shoved the glasses on top of her hair.

“I wonder… do you trust your instincts to lead you to joy? Or is fear the sole instinct you obey?”

She’d never thought of it like that. “Well, I’m here with you, trusting you not to murder me. Or throw me into… that.” She looked at the lake and repressed a shudder. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’re probably not afraid of anything.”

His gaze traveled slowly from her eyes to her lips, and her skin heated as if he’d physically touched her. “I’m very afraid that you’ll go home and kick yourself for not coming into the water with me. The tourism bureau would be furious.”
 

He took her hands and led her forward a few steps, until the cold water had swallowed her ankles. The bottom was a little pebbly, but mostly smooth rock.
 

“This water is supposed to have magical powers,” he said. “If you submerge in it, your next wish comes true. You up for it?”

She nodded.

“Your dress. You might want to take it off.”

She laughed. “Anything to get a woman naked.”
Wow, that was a little forward.
She blushed. But he didn’t seem to have his mind in the gutter like she did. She stepped out of her dress and tossed it so that it landed near her beach bag.
 

Koenraad walked her in deeper, to her chest. He was only mid-waist, though. “You’re really tall,” she said.
 

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