Chapter 23
Ace
I close my eyes and try to catch my breath, looking down at her back as she collapses on the massage table. "I . . ."
"Yeah," I say, laughing as I fall on top of her, and I need a minute. "That was." I kiss her shoulder. "That was."
"I need a shower," she says. "With all this oil on me, I feel like a wrestler." She laughs, and I slide out of her but immediately want to be back inside her. She stands up, and I put my hands on her face for a kiss. Her tongue slides into my mouth as she presses her front to me. My cock that was starting to go down is up and ready for another round. "There is no way we can shower together."
"You're right," I admit. "Why don't you go shower, and then I'll go after you."
"Okay." She slips her hand in mine. "But if I need you to wash my back, should I call you?"
"Shelby," I groan. She lets go of my hand and walks to the bathroom, and I follow her. I get rid of the condom at the same time she steps into the shower. I walk out of the room, going to the phone and picking it up, pressing zero.
Roberto answers right away. "Hello, Mr. Ace."
"Hi, is it possible to get some lunch set up for us outside on the deck?" I ask, looking around the room. "And for someone to come and clear out the massage table."
"No problem. It'll be done in fifteen minutes," he says, and I look back at the bathroom door.
"We will be in the bath, so you can come in," I say and hang up the phone. I walk over to the closet and grab a pair of shorts for me and what looks like a one-piece dress for her.
I walk back into the bathroom, seeing her with her head back as the water cascades around her. She’s fucking stunning. "I just ordered lunch," I tell her, and she looks over at me. "I brought you a dress." I walk over and pull open the shower door.
"You can't come in here." She shakes her head, and I laugh. "It'll just end up with us having sex."
I ignore what she says as I step into the shower, wrapping my hands around her from the back, my hands going to cup her tits. "What's wrong with that?"
"Ace," she moans my name, and I bend to kiss her neck, letting her go.
"I'm letting you go because they are coming to clear out the table and shit, and the last thing I want them to do is hear you moan," I tell her, and she laughs.
"I'm not going to lie. When you started giving me the massage, I was about to crawl out of my skin." She shakes her head. "When did the lady leave?"
"As soon as you got on the table," I inform her, and her mouth hangs open.
"I didn't hear you tell her anything," she tells me, and I laugh.
"It was the universal motion with my chin to get the fuck out of here." I show her what I did, and she throws her head back and laughs. "She just smirked at me and nodded her head, then walked out without making a sound. I thought for sure you heard her when she closed the door behind her. But you just stayed with your head down." I shake my head.
"It was fucking torture," she says. "I almost opened my legs and got on my hands and knees."
"I swear to God, my cock was going to explode, and the last thing I wanted was for her to look down and see me closing my eyes and trying to count to ten." I shake my head.
She gets out before me, and I finish washing myself while she dries her hair. She puts on the pink dress, and I stop drying myself. The back hangs low until her ass crack, but it's more than that I can see her ass. "It's see-through," I tell her, and she turns around, and I see the front hangs low, and I see her perk nipples.
"It's not see-through." She looks down at herself. "It's like an illusion."
"Is that what we are calling see-through these days?" I drop my towel and slide into my shorts.
She shakes her head and walks out of the bathroom door seeing everything gone. The only thing that is still there are the rose petals. We walk to the back of the deck and find a table set up right under an umbrella. "I'm starving," she says, slipping her hand in mine as we walk out of the room toward the table. Roberto is right there pushing a cart of food toward the table. "Right on time." She smiles as I pull out a chair for her to sit down. She grabs the mimosa and finishes it. "I'm parched." She winks at me. "After that workout."
I shake my head as Roberto puts fruit on the table, followed by burgers, chicken, some grilled fish, and veggies. "I'll be back with dessert," he says to us, walking away while Shelby grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket beside her and pours some more into a glass, followed by orange juice.
"We should talk," she says, and I have to smirk at her as I grab a burger and put it on her plate. It was only a matter of time before she would have to talk about it. I knew it was coming.
"We should. A lot has happened in the last couple of days," I say, grabbing my own burger.
"A lot has happened," she agrees, taking a bite of her burger while I grab a bottle of beer from a cooler beside me. I twist open the top and take a pull of it.
"Where should we start?" I ask her. "I would like to start at the obvious." She looks at me. "We had sex."
"We did," she confirms and reaches for another drink.
"And that makes you nervous?" Her hand stops midway to her mouth, and she just looks at me. I laugh.
"It doesn't make me nervous." She puts the glass down. "It makes me . . ." She tries to think of the word.
"It makes you uneasy, which is the same thing as nervous." I take a bite of my burger.
"Okay, fine," she admits finally, and she looks at me. Her blue eyes are lighter than I've ever seen before. Her face is tanned just a touch from the last two days in the sun. Her hair is blowing in the wind; she is just perfect. "I'm nervous about it."
"Why are you nervous?" I ask her, and she leans back in her chair, and my eyes go to her nipples that are pointing out of her dress.
She looks down and sees what I'm staring at, but she doesn't move. Instead, she meets my question with her own. "Are you not nervous?"
"No," I admit honestly. "But I've thought about having sex with you before." I bring the beer to my lips. "So"—I shrug—"I'm not nervous."
"That doesn't mean shit," she says, grabbing my bottle of beer and taking a pull from it. "Thinking about it and doing it are two different things."
"Yeah, you’re right about that." I laugh. "Doing it was a million times better than it was in my head." She just smiles shyly and looks down at her plate. "Why are you hiding from me?"
She looks up at me, and I can see she's trying to tell me something. "How about we make it that this conversation is a one-time conversation, and whatever is said during this time stays here?”
She puts her elbows on the table and folds her hands together. "That works," she says, and I wait for her to say what she has to say. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to just get it all out, so if you have anything you have to say, I ask that you wait until after." I nod at her for her to go, not sure what she is going to say. I definitely know that I was not ready for what she was going to say. "I like sex," she says, and I smirk at her. "Like a lot, but I haven't been having sex a lot because, well, apparently I wasn't the only one having sex with him. He was never in the mood, and well, you can only be turned down so many times before you just stop asking." My stomach burns as the knots start to form and then anger sets in. "I was also not open with how much I wanted to have sex nor did I ask for things. I know that I'm not that good at some things."
This is when I've had enough of her talking and hold up my hand. "I know you said not to interrupt you, but I'm not going to let you say shit that isn't true." I look into her eyes. "One." I hold up a finger. "Whatever you think you're not good at, I'm here to tell you that you’re right." I see her face drop. "You're not good at it. You're out of this fucking world."
"You're just saying that so I will suck your dick again." She rolls her eyes.
"Okay, first off, you love to suck my dick just as much as I love you to suck it, so don't even try to tell me that you do it just for me." I laugh, getting up, walking over to her and holding out my hand to her. She grabs my hand and I walk us over to a couch right near the table in the shade. I sit down, and when she is going to sit next to me, I stop her and pull her on my lap. "Shelby.” I say her name and can't help but lean forward and kiss her shoulder. "I like having sex with you." I don't use the love word because I know it will freak her out. "I really like it. Like more than I've ever liked it in my life." Sex with her has been on another level.
"I like having sex with you," she says. "I don't know if it's right or wrong." She turns in my lap as she straddles my thighs. My hands go to her legs and rub them.
"I don't want to stop," I tell her, afraid she’s going to want something else, knowing that if she says she wants to stop, it's going to be the hardest thing for me to do. Being next to her and not being able to touch her, especially after last night and this morning.
"Me either," she agrees, her voice soft, and she puts her forehead on mine.
"So how about while we are here, we just enjoy it?” I kiss her lips.
She puts her hands on my chest, and one of the straps from her shoulder falls down. "So what happens on the island stays on the island?" she asks, and her strap falls over her nipple.
My thumb comes up to rub her nipple. "On one condition," I tell her, and she looks at me, waiting. "Don't hide from me.” I lean down and take the nipple into my mouth. “You want me to touch you a certain way, you tell me." I nip at her nipple now. "You want me to do more, you tell me."
"Okay," she almost pants. "But it goes both ways."
I look at her. "Deal." I look around, seeing that no one is around. "I want you to ride me." I push down the other side of her strap, taking the other nipple in my mouth.
"God," she says. "I thought you'd never ask." She moves her dress up and looks at me. "Did you bring a condom?"
"No," I say. "Why would I bring a condom with me? We were supposed to be eating lunch." I move her to the side. "Don't move," I tell her, kissing her lips and rushing to grab a box of condoms. I rush back over and grab her, bringing her back onto my lap. "Now, where were we?" I grab her face in mine, and she smiles right before I take her lips and slide my tongue into her mouth.
"We are never going to make it out of here," she says from in front of me as she moves her head to give me more access to her neck.
"It's not my fault you look fucking sexy every single time I look over at you." I look in the mirror at us. The both of us are tanned after six days of lounging in the sun. The last four have been us just lounging in the pool or the ocean right outside our door.
"We can't be late," she warns me, turning in my arms but never moving far away from me. "One last kiss," she says, letting my tongue slide into her mouth as she wraps her arms around my neck. My hands grip her covered ass before letting her go and looking down at her dress. This time, it's a black one that plunges down to her stomach. It’s tied around her neck, and her back is open. The dress falls to the floor, but when she walks, all you see is her long, lean legs. "You're going to ruin this dress, too, aren't you?" For the past four nights, every single outfit of hers I've torn off of her.
I smirk at her, grabbing her hand. "I haven't decided yet," I say, walking out of the room and down toward the main beach. We are having our last dinner on the beach, and both of us have been unusually quiet as our time on the island is coming to an end.
"I don't think I've seen you so dressed." She looks over at me. I'm wearing dark gray dress pants with a light gray button-down shirt with the sleeves folded up to my elbows. "I'm not sure I like it."
I'm about to say something about when we get back home, but Roberto is there waiting for us. He ushers us to the private table in the middle of the beach. We don't talk that much during dinner. We throw a couple of jokes out there, and she laughs as she drinks champagne, and I know it's because she's trying to think about what is going to happen. When we finish dinner, I kick off my shoes and hold my hand out to her. "Let's walk back to the villa by the beach," I suggest, and she kicks off her shoes. I look over at Roberto, who nods and comes over to grab our shoes. We walk down the beach. "What are you thinking?" I ask as my own nerves are in my stomach.
"It's going to be weird tomorrow," she says softly as we walk slowly down the beach.
"Why is that?" Looking over at her, I wait for her to give me a little sign that she wants more of this. That she will continue this when we get home.
"Well, for one, I've woken up the past four days with a face between my legs," she says, and I gasp.
"You were the one who woke up with a mouthful this morning," I tell her, and she throws her head back.
"It's not my fault," she gasps and stops walking. "He winked at me."
I bring her to me and laugh. "He winked at you," I tease, and she laughs and leans her face up. I want to make her laugh all the time. I want to be the one who makes her laugh. I look down at her, taking her mouth and telling her, "I think I see him winking at you right now."