Jude, true to his nature, mobilized the senior staff of the resort as if he owned the place. He had them provide a convoy of SUVs, drivers, tour guides, and attendants to be at our disposal. Rick took advantage of my brother's pompous ass and got him to make them include first aid kits in every freaking bathroom in the resort from henceforth.
Watching their interactions made it quite clear why they had been friends for a decade. The both of them were so smug, presumptuous, and overbearing, yet somehow managed to charm every freaking person they faced without fail. Even I had to make a conscious effort to be considered charming and they just did it carelessly. Especially Rick.
"Why am I not enjoying myself?" Andrea was muttering while watching whales wade through the surface of the water.
"Cuz it's too easy," I answered with a sigh.
She shot to her feet and then pointed an accusing finger at my brother who was wrapped around Stella, giggling and feeding each other food like a pair of morons.
"You!" she exclaimed, stomping a foot hard enough to stir the boat. "You fucking Grinch! You're sucking all the fun out of everything!"
My brother merely rolled his eyes. "Be quiet, you'll startle the whales."
She turned to face me, puffing out her cheeks. "Can't we just go by ourselves?"
"No, you cannot," Jude replied in my behalf. "I don't know what you're complaining about. You're the one who wanted to see the whales."
"Yeah, but not like this!" she whined, waving her arms around the 50 foot sailboat Jude had rented for the day. Complete with a four-person crew. "I might as well be with my Dad! All that's missing is a yacht girl blowing you in the cabin while I'm stuck with that little shitheaded brat he calls a son!"
"Will you please shut up?" Jude snapped.
She groaned. "Tomorrow, we're doing shit our way."
"No, you are not," Jude replied dismissively.
"Jelly Bean..." she whined, throwing herself onto my back as I laid on my front. "Make the Grinch go away."
"You shouldn't have told him where we were, then," I muttered, flipping the page of the book I was halfheartedly reading.
"As if the fucking creep didn't already know!"
"How many times will you make me repeat myself, Andrea?" Jude said in an eerily low voice.
She let out a quiet whimper, burying her face against my back and not saying anything else. I sighed, closing my book and shifting to sit up, patting her on the head as I brought my attention to Rick floating in the distance with the whales.
He was talking to the guide, looking engrossed in the conversation while she kept laughing at everything he said. I knew the guy. He was not that funny.
He caught me staring, the cordial smile on his lips widening into a breathtaking grin. He held his arms out, waving me over. I glanced at the lusty guide and then at the two whales lingering just beneath the surface, surrounding them. One wrong move and those gargantuan beasts would have us all at their mercy.
I was arrogant, but I knew not to fuck with wildlife.
Rick started swimming towards the boat, hiking himself out the water and up the ladder. One of the crew handed him a towel and he thanked her while flashing a smile, effortlessly making yet another woman a fool for his charm.
He came towards me as I sat on the deck and was about to sit next to me but I grabbed him as he was leaning down, taking a fistful of his soaking hair and claiming his lips with mine. He groaned softly, lowering himself to his knees as he kissed me back.
"You think I won't commit murder in broad daylight, little Angel?" I heard Jude say.
"Jude, stop," Stella chided softly.
I pulled away, glancing over to the guide who spent the past half hour barely blinking in front of him and then at the idiot girl who was swooning over a single smile from him. All of a sudden, they couldn't keep their eyes far enough away.
I never had the opportunity to give it an objective consideration before, his individuality outside of me. Every time we had been together since our first meeting, he was so obsessively focused on me. Seeing him spare others his attention now, I realized I really did not fucking like it.
It was not the same unreasonable jealousy I bore for that desperate thing called Laura who used her position as his co-worker to implant herself to his side. He barely paid her any mind from the times I observed them, and the only time he did, he was so obviously trying to get a rise out of me. The way he was acting with the people around him all day, being so attentive and considerate no matter how small the exchange was, it was triggering a sense of aggression in me that made me want to both lock him away from the world and show every one of these lowly imbeciles who he belonged to.
I looked back up at this irresistible fool of a man, slipping my fingers from his hair and trailing them along his jaw.
"Mine," I declared.
A smug grin broke out of his stupid face. I wanted to hit him, and then kiss him again.
"Yours, baby," he said, turning his head slightly to kiss my wrist. "Come join me, hm?"
I hummed, beginning to seriously contemplate risking a violent and excruciating death at the jaws of those Godlike beings. It would be worth the suffering if I got to fuck Rick in the ocean before they made a meal out of us.
"No," Jude responded in my behalf once again. "It's dangerous."
"They're very gentle," Rick assured him as he sat next to me. "Just don't touch them."
"The same can be said of me, no?" I quipped, mindlessly tracing the ridges of his face with my finger. "Would you advise a sranger to invade my space simply to amuse themselves?"
He thought for a moment before chuckling to himself.
"Okay, you got me there."
"Uh-huh."
I tugged him by the ear, bringing my lips to his neck and licking the salty tang of the sea off his skin. I smiled when I felt a slight tremble burst from his torso.
"You're the only one stupid enough to do such a thing," I murmured, biting at his skin.
He turned his head to face me, his eyes darkened by evident arousal.
"Got me again."
Andrea suddenly sprung up from her position on my lap as our lips met, tangling her limbs around my torso and dragging my lips away from Rick's.
"Quit hogging her," she spat at Rick. "She was mine first."
He arched a brow. "Is that so?"
"Yeah! So fuck off!" she bit out, tightening her limbs around me.
He chuckled humorlessly, looking at me with a sureness in his gaze.
"Baby, come here," he said with open arms.
I should be offended. I really should be. But Andrea was touching me too much and I wanted to dig my veins out to be rid of the gnawing anxiety festering under my skin that she was carelessly causing.
"Move," I ordered, patting her leg as it pressed against my abdomen.
"Traitor," she muttered but grudgingly let me go.
I should have taken serious offense at the sight of satisfaction on Rick's face as I crawled on top of him. But then he held me and it felt too fucking good in his arms to be mad about it.
"Ugh. Bitch, where's your pride?" Andrea spat as I burrowed myself into Rick's chest. "I'm so insulted for you right now."
"Fuck off," I fired back, kicking her.
She huffed, taking the towel I'd abandoned along with her headphones and went further up the deck to lay under the sun.
"Over three million cases of skin cancer is diagnosed every year," Rick murmured, tracing the thin strap of my bra. "Are you sure it's wise to be lying under the sun wearing nothing but a bikini for an extended period of time?"
I rolled my eyes, picking up my book again. "I put sunblock on."
"I can see that," he mumbled, obviously noticing there were less scars on my body.
"Expensive shit. Costs over a hundred bucks per bottle," I muttered as I glanced at him over my shoulder, seeing him eyeing my body intently. "Andy uses them when she's performing to hide stretch marks and stuff. It's waterproof."
Almost out of curiosity, he dipped a finger on my stomach, tracing a deep scar. As if he knew where it was. Memorized every one of them. I flinched. His eyes snapped over to mine and he quickly withdrew his hand.
"Sorry."
I huffed out a breath. "It's fine."
"I know it's not."
I rolled my eyes. "Then don't do it."
I caught his hands curl into fists, pressing against his raised knees, as if he was trying to prevent himself from touching me.
"Did it hurt?" he asked, his voice pained. As if he was hurting in my behalf.
"It's a spray on," I answered. "It didn't hurt."
He heaved out a sigh, the tension in his body loosening.
"It's makeup," he said, rubbing the pad of his index finger against his thumb. "It doesn't protect your skin from the UV rays the sun is radiating with."
I smirked. "Babe, cancer is the last thing that's gonna be killing me."
"You should know better than to take cancer lightly."
"I'm the daughter of the most influential man in the healthcare industry. You think cancer can kill me?"
"There's no cure for cancer yet."
I snorted. "Lastor International spends roughly half a billion dollars every year dedicated to researching every type of cancer, and developing possible cures and new treatments that are not only less invasive, but also far more effective than chemo. Trust me, I ain't dying cuz of some illness."
He sighed. "Your arrogance will be the death of you someday."
"My grandfather used to say that."
I gestured at one of the crew members standing nearby, holding a tray of mimosas. I waved him over and took a glass.
"I was a terrible student even before I started school," I went on, pausing to take a sip of my drink. "I got into fights with my teachers and tutors all the time because, in my opinion, they were all a bunch of idiots who wouldn't know how to teach a dog how to bark let alone give me a proper education. One time, I submitted a paper for my Social Studies final centered around picking apart my teacher's dissertation and teachings. I distributed copies to all faculty members and parents, effectively demolishing his thirty-year career within the required five pages."
"Why the hell would you do that?" Rick said in disbelief.
I shrugged. "He kept giving me detention for sleeping in class."
"So you ruined a man's life and career?"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, he was a lazy son-of-a-bitch and made his students do presentations all year instead of actually teaching us anything. If he hadn't tried to kill me, they would have never fired him because of his tenure."
"He... he tried to kill you?" he asked, looking like he couldn't wrap his head around the notion that I could provoke murderous intent upon someone.
"He was put on administrative leave after he had a public meltdown. A week later, I was walking out of school and he was there. He started yelling at me and next thing I know, he had a gun pointed at me. I would have had my head blown to bits if Jude hadn't tackled him. God, it was chaos." I snickered, tilting my head to look at him. "I'm surprised you didn't know. It was on the 24 hour news cycle for, like, a month or something."
He shook his head. "How old were you when this happened?"
"Jude, how old was I again?" I called out.
"A month before your thirteenth birthday," he replied with a long suffering sigh.
Rick took a moment to process the information, staring at me with a dubious look on his face as if he was trying to figure something out again.
"Tell me something. Why didn't you just graduate early?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"No normal twelve year old could comprehend and challenge a professional dissertation as a prank, or even consider it. You were bored, that's why you did it. You've been bored your entire academic career," he went on. "You're the most impatient person I know. So why torture yourself with twelve unnecessary years of primary and secondary education when your academic aptitude already exceeded that of a tenured professor by the time you were twelve?"
I snorted. "Jesus. Way to overanalyze a simple childhood anecdote."
"No, I'm just curious. I've always wondered about it."
I pursed my lips, thinking. "I guess, I wanted to prolong my freedom."
"That doesn't help me at all."
I sighed, closing my book. "Jude, may I?"
He shrugged, keeping his back to us while he sat at the bow of the boat with Stella on his lap.
"Jude and I..." I began with slight hesitation. "We have had our lives planned out for us down to the smallest detail before we were even born. I can act like I don't give a damn about being a Lastor and Jude can resist their attempts to control him, but nothing we do will change who we're supposed to be and what our lives will be. The only way to postpone the inevitable is to remain in academia for as long as possible. It's what Gramps did. He spent decades earning all sorts of academic laurels to keep his father off his back and even got himself a Nobel to add a few years on his tally. I've done the math. I only have about eight years of freedom left, ten if I dumb myself down and fuck up a little more than usual. If I can get one last decade of freedom, I'll be satisfied."
I noticed him staring at me, a forlorn look appearing on his face. I sighed, flicking his forehead.
"Don't pity us."
He shook his head. "I'm not. It's just–" He paused, looking like he hated what he was going to say next. "–really sad."
I shrugged. "C'est la vie."
"What you described, it's not how life is supposed to be, Angel," he said in a quiet voice. "It seems a lot like slavery, only less visible."
"Yeah, well, welcome to our lives. It only gets worse from here."
I raised my glass before bringing it to my lips. He grasped my wrist, keeping me from the drink.
"You promised today to me," he murmured. "The sun hasn't set yet. Stay with me."
I rolled my eyes, regretting ever agreeing to stay sober today. It wasn't fair that he'd asked me while he was giving me head. I would have said yes to anything in the brink of climax for crissake.
He set my glass aside and put his arms around me, pulling me closer until I was firmly pressed against his chest. I stiffened.
"I won't touch," he murmured, almost as if he knew what I was thinking. "What are you reading?"
I cleared my throat before answering, "Ovid's Amores."
He flipped the page, scanning the words with furrowed brows.
"It's in Latin."
"Really? I didn't notice," I said in a flat tone.
He bit my ear lightly. "You gonna make me ask why, smartass?"
"I'm writing an analysis of the poem. Reading it in Latin helps with the accuracy of the context."
"Of course you're fluent in Latin," he muttered sardonically, rolling his eyes while I snickered. "What's the analysis for?"
I shrugged. "Nothing. Just felt like it."
"You're so weird."
"Shut up."
"I like it," he said, kissing my ear.
I frowned, tilting my head to look at him. "Why is that?"
"Why is what?"
"Why do you like me?" I asked, truly still at a loss. "I just admitted to ruining a man and leading him to attempt murder but you don't seem... affected."
"Trust me, I think what you did was all sorts messed up, but it's also strangely impressive," he said, chuckling to himself. "What about you? Why do you like me?"
My frown deepened. "You think I like you?"
"Well, I sure hope so," he said with a light laugh.
I shook my head. "I don't like you at all. In fact, I can't stand you. I keep trying to rid myself of you but for some reason, every part of me craves for you," I murmured, shifting my body to face him. "I don't like you. No, sweetheart, I want you. I want you to calm the chaos inside me. I want you to make my body burn with your lips. I want you to drive me insane with your touch. Most of all, I seflishly want you to be mine. Completely."
He let out a breath, pressing his forehead against mine. "I'm all yours, gorgeous."
I straddled either side of him, letting my book fall tumble to the side.
"Kiss me, Frederick."
He gripped my hips tightly. "Say you're mine."
I smiled, brushing my lips against his. "Yours."
"Jude, stop!" I heard Stella shriek as our lips met.
I grabbed the glass of mimosa beside us and whirled around just as my brother was reaching his arm towards me. I threw the drink at his face and he instantly stiffened, the fury in his face becoming quickly replaced by disgust. He started gagging while Stella frantically grabbed a towel from a nearby crew member and wiped him off while Rick was shaking beneath me trying to hold back his hysterics.
"Are you crazy?!" my freak of a brother yelled out.
"Back off or I start spitting," I warned, stinging my tongue out and letting the saliva drip.
He screwed up his face, the paling of his skin gravely diminishing the intimidating effects of his genuine rage appearing to the surface.
"Stop that," he bit out through gritted teeth, his feet retreating.
I spat, just barely hitting him when he jumped away. "Fuck off."
He let out another gag, sounding like he was choking on the bile, which made him gag even harder. He ran off, heading into the cabin with Stella running after him.
"Keep bothering us and I'll paint you with blood, you freak!" I yelled out.
"Okay, that's enough. You're gonna get me killed," Rick said, rising to his feet with his arms clutching me to him.
"Like hell I'd let him touch you."
He grinned, kissing my forehead as he started walking down the deck. When I realized where he was headed, I was caught in a conflict between ripping his arms off me or clinging onto him for dear life.
"Rick, hon, wait, the fucking things are still there."
"Knew it. You're scared," he said, snickering.
"Of course I am!" I readily confessed, planting a foot on the railing of the boat and trying to push away from it. "I'm not dying like this! I want to look pretty in my coffin dammit!"
He laughed, grabbing my leg and holding it firmly to his side.
"Relax, we won't go near them," he said before easily jumping overboard.
I screamed, squeezing him with my limbs and digging my nails into his skin. The short instant before we went under, his mouth came upon mine. I held him tighter, screwing my eyes shut as saltwater stung them.
When we resurfaced, I started slapping him everywhere I could reach. He kissed me again and I let out a harsh breath, slapping him one last time before kissing him back.
As our lips met with fervor, hands pulling at each other, the constant chaos in my mind disappeared instantly and all my thoughts were filled by him. His lips. His breath. His skin. His fingers. Everything about him was being ingrained in my mind and I didn't care about the possibility that the unforgettable memory of him would haunt me for the rest of my lifetime. He was too beautiful to not remember.
"Have you ever fucked in the ocean, sweetheart?" I whispered as we parted for a breath.
He stiffened, his nails digging into the flesh of my ass.
"No, I haven't found a girl crazy enough to do that."
I licked the shell of his ear, biting lightly. He groaned.
"Well, I'm crazy enough–" I whispered, grinding against his erection. "–and then some."
"I don't have a condom," he bit out.
I shrugged. "I'm clean."
He let out a ragged breath. "There's people around."
I smiled, glancing around us. "They won't mind."
"What about your brother?"
"You really need to stop mentioning my brother whenever I try fuck you. I'm starting to get suspicious."
He chuckled lightly. "You're way prettier."
I brought my face to his, pressing our foreheads together. His eyes showed the telltale signs of lust, letting me know that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside me right then and there.
"How about it?" I whispered, reaching between us and slipping my hand underneath his shorts. "It would be a first for the both of us."
He let out a grunt when I gripped his cock in a firm fist.
"I'm surprised Angel Lastor hasn't checked off fucking in the ocean in her bucket list."
I grinned. "I already did." I chuckled, biting my lip when he scowled. "But I haven't checked off fucking without a condom though," I added with an innocent smile.
His lips parted while his eyes darkened into a shade of crisp blue.
"Come on, sweetheart. Or maybe you're too square to fuck with an audience watching the show?"
His eyes blazed, his jew clenching hard. "Don't scream."
He swiftly took a hold of his cock and pushed the bottom of my bikini to the side. I moaned softly as he began to slowly slid the tip of his cock along my slit, teasing my clit before pressing against my entrence. With a quick thrust, he was inside me, burying himself to the hilt. I bit into my lip to hold back a scream. He cursed, his hands gripping my ass tightly.
"Sweet fucking Jesus," he rasped, his entire body shaking.
I lost my breath, burying my face against his neck as the pain gradually wavered at having him enter me so abruptly. The pleasure quickly replaced it.
"Baby, you okay?" he asked, his voice strained. I managed to nod. "No offense but, we're safe, right?"
"You want papers or something?" I hissed.
"Birth control."
"You think I'm stupid?" I bit out, glaring at him. "I get shots. Now fuck me and stop asking dumb questions."
He swam to the side of the boat, pressing me against it and without a word, he lifted me off him and slammed me down again. We bit into each other's shoulders to keep ourselves from making a sound.
It was beyond. Beyond what I've ever felt. Ever imagined. I've never fucked like this. Skin to skin. Only him. No barriers holding us back from being together in the rawest form and sweetest way.
As he began gifting me with slow deep thrusts, the pleasure nearly blinded me. I felt everything. Everything between us was intensified. There was no longer a fire that made my insides burn. It was a raging inferno. Swallowing me whole at every thrust he made.
The restrained moans and pants we were struggling to hold in slowly escaped us. I met him every time he drew back, wanting to keep him inside me. To make this feeling last.
It didn't have a name, this feeling. It was just... ours. Me and him. No one else. It couldn't be taken away from us. That fact scared me. That this was more than what either of us had bargained for. Even bothered to imagine. This... connection. It was like finally finding the solace that we both searched for without knowing. It was terrifying, that among the plethora of men and women in the world, we ended up together. Like this. Consuming each other. Possessing each other. Just. Like. This.
"Don't ever stop," I panted.
"Never."
"Never," I echoed, raising my head from his neck and pressing our foreheads together. "Never," I repeated, drowning in the sea his eyes served to be.
I cupped his jaw, feeling the roughness of his scruff prick my palms. He was watching me, I could tell from the way his eyes bore into me as if he couldn't see anything else. And to me, he was all I saw.
I bit my lip as his thrust grew fervent, trying to hold back the urge to cry out. I threw my head back and his lips ravished my neck with hungry kisses, biting, and licking while he continued to fill me with all of him and I selfishly took everything that he had to give as I met his thrusts.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
I screwed my eyes shut, shaking my head. "Shut up."
"You're fucking beautiful," he hissed, emphasizing it with a hard thrust.
I gritted my teeth. "No."
He groaned and crashed his lips against mine, sharing this momentary loss of reality as we disappeared into a world of our own.
It was like a drug. He was like a drug. He consumed me, every inch of me. He took over my senses, leaving me reeling and craving more of him. It was the best thing, having him inside me. It felt so perfect. He was so perfect. And as we came, our cries of pleasure silenced by the deep kiss we shared, I felt, for the first time in my life, perfect.