“Cream? You’re sick.” I snicker under my breath and shove a piece of bread in my mouth.
He laughs. “You don’t fool me. I read your diary. There’s some messed-up shit in there. That poor man is being pursued by the nastiest virgin in New York.”
I kick him under the table. “That diary was ancient, and I still haven’t forgiven you.”
“But you don’t deny your perversions, huh?” He steals another piece of quiche. “Now, hurry. Let’s get out on the beach and piss this guy off.”
Eleven
Calvin
I’ve tracked her down. It wasn’t hard. She’s swimming in her pool, sunning her gorgeous body and having the time of her life with some obnoxious beefcake who insists on reapplying oil to her delicate shoulders every fifteen minutes.
What kind of suntan lotion washes away that quickly? If she needs a better brand, I’ll buy it and apply it myself. That oaf is taking advantage of her obvious desire to combat sun damage. How unchivalrous. How opportunistic. One more application and I’m coming out from behind this bush and crushing him to a pulp.
What the hell am I doing back here?
Late this morning, I showed up with flowers. I don’t believe she was home. That’s a lie. I know she wasn’t home because I peeked through every damn window to make sure the house was empty. These are not my finest moments. But I’m at my wit’s end. I need to see her and say I was wrong. I’ll shout it. I’ll drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness.
Last night, meeting her again, holding her in my arms and tasting her kiss meant everything. I’ve waited so long to meet the love of my life. How could I have known all I had to do was wait for her to grow up?
This is ridiculous. I’m a grown man. A respected physician. I’m lurking in the bushes like a crazed stalker, ogling her while I rub my cock through my shorts. It’s beneath me, someone might see, and it’s not doing any good, anyway.
I want the real thing. And I had it. I had Tessa in my arms. She was ready and eager to be taken. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Instead of hiding and creeping, I could’ve been tilling that virgin soil and planting my seed all fucking morning.
And what’s gotten into me? I’ve never farmed a day in my life.
This is too much. I can’t take a chance and wait for this dickhead to apply one more layer of lotion. She needs to know I haven’t stopped thinking about her. She needs to know we can make this happen if she gives me another chance. I don’t know where this handsy jackass came from, but he’s irrelevant. She said she loves me. I saw the tears in her eyes when she confessed her feelings. She meant it. God knows I don’t deserve her love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t earn it.
With hope in my heart and every ounce of courage I can gather, I march up her deck stairs, ignore the asshole in the pool and walk towards her lounger. She drops her book and lowers her sunglasses.
“Dr. Young.” Her mouth falls open as her wide honey eyes lock on mine.
“Calvin. Please call me Calvin.” My eyes run over every inch of her twenty-year-old, glistening, oil-soaked body and helplessly land on the full, round breasts peeking out from her flimsy bikini top. My heart stops. My brain freezes. I can’t look away. They’re breathtaking. Indescribably beautiful. When her stiff nipples join the party, my voice flees, and I stare dumbfounded at the last pair I’ll ever hold.
This girl is mine. I’m not leaving this island without her. She needs to say yes. Yes, to dinner. Yes, to spending the night. Yes, to spending the rest of her life with me.
If she turns me down, I’ll only come back tomorrow and ask again.
“Calvin? What are you doing here?” She sits up and uses her book to shield her overflowing cleavage.
Relieved it breaks the spell long enough for me to speak, I shake my head to clear my mind. “May we speak?”
She nods but stops. “You said everything you had to say last night. You don’t want to get involved with your daughter’s friend.”
I hang my head, and my eyes drift toward her supple thighs. The same thighs she wantonly wrapped around my waist in the throes of passion. The same ones I want to wrap around my face until I hear her scream my name. I want to feel them again. I want them around me always.
“Tessa, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I panicked and tried to do the rational thing, but when I look at you, nothing feels rational. I wanted you before I knew who you were and that hasn’t changed. Judging by some things I’ve done the last two days, it will only get worse. I’ll deal with Olivia. She always says she wants me to find someone who makes me happy. Last night was the happiest I’ve felt since I was a kid. I want more. I want you... if you’ll let me make it up to you.”
She lifts her book to cover face and I whimper at the sight of her mouthwatering breasts.
Through sobs and sniffles, she replies, “You don’t know how long I’ve loved you. If you’re not sure you can deal with this, it’s better we...”
I take her tiny hand in mine and slide in closer. “I am sure. Let me take you to dinner tonight. I haven’t seen you in years. I want to hear everything I’ve missed. Because from this day forward, I won’t miss anything else.”
As we stare into each other’s eyes, lost in this sacred moment, a voice beckons from behind. “Hey Tesscakes, can I go back to Sag Harbor now?”
Twelve
Tessa
“So, tell me. What sort of fifteen-year-old girl develops a crush on a man twenty years her senior?” His sultry voice croons as his steel-blue eyes impale my heart.
Dinner was lovely, romantic, and the food was delicious. We dined alfresco near the shore and watched the sunset from our table. We shared our plates and talked about the last five years of our life. His divorce. My studies, likes, and dislikes. We’ve giggled over silly anecdotes and struggled to get through the awkwardness of what’s to come when his daughter and my parents find out about us. And now, as we sip our coffee, his latent curiosity of my long unrequited love has finally bubbled to the surface.
I nibble on my cookie and turn to look at the rolling waves. What sort of girl, indeed? I never thought of it as unusual, but most girls that age fall for the high school quarterback or the goth guy who never smiles. Not me. I couldn’t be bothered with boys. I wanted a man. More specifically, I wanted this man. I was desperate for this beautiful man and thought day and night about what I would say when this day finally arrived.
How can I convey the depth of my love and lust without sounding like a foolish little girl?
Something comes over me. A thought morphs into an emotion that spreads like wildfire throughout my limbs and into my core. With a sudden surge of confidence, my eyes meet his and I answer his question the only way I know how. “If I had to guess, I’d say she was a naughty girl.”
His eyes flare. The air simmers. He wasn’t expecting that, but with a smile he sets my heart at ease.
“A naughty one?” His eyebrows arch mischievously. “Explain yourself, young lady.”
I nod and take a sip. “Doesn’t that sound naughty to you? A young girl falling in love with her best friend’s father and saving herself exclusively for him. Never kissing other boys. Never petting in the back of cars. Saving every special first for a man twenty years her senior. That sounds pretty naughty to me.” When his gaze falls to my chest, my taut nipples grow painfully tighter. My panties dampen and my thighs quiver with need.