Indulge (4 page)

“Absolutely. High ones.”

“What does a girl like you look for?”

He’s lumped me into some kind of category. “A girl like me? What does that mean?”

“A vanilla girl.”

I am vanilla but I’ve not yet decided if I’m going to be pissed off about having that label placed on me. “Call me old-fashioned but I don’t long to be double penetrated.”

“You might like it if you tried it.”

I hate being judged. “You assume I haven’t.”

“You assume I have.” He totally has me there.

“You’re the one who was in a sexual triad involving two guys and a girl. Two dicks. One vagina. Three assholes. I already know you aren’t into dudes so my assumption was made by process of elimination.”

He laughs. “You sort of have a dirty mouth.”

“Not dirty. Innocent-challenged.” He hasn’t heard shit out of me yet. “I’m curious to know what you thought of it.”

“It feels great.”

I hear a silent
but
in there somewhere. “But you hated her being with another man?”

“Of course. She was going to be my wife. I loved her. Every time Heath came into our bed, it was a reminder I was never going to be enough to satisfy her.”

Does the poly want out?

“Be happy you figured it out before you married her instead of after.”

“My affection for her slipped a little further away every time I saw them together. The love I had for her eventually drifted beyond my grasp. I tried but couldn’t get it back. She became nothing more than a body to me, an object I used for getting off.” I can believe that.

“Will your next relationship be polyamorous?”

“I have no idea. I only know I came here to fuck the two of them off my mind. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

Sex isn’t a fix for what’s going on in his head. And heart. But he has to figure that out for himself.

“I don’t want to talk about those fuckers anymore. I rather hear about your vanilla girl high standards.”

“I want true and beautiful.” I bet he thinks that’s unrealistic.

“Total myth. Doesn’t exist in today’s world.” Pessimist. He’s probably a glass half-empty kind of guy.

“It does. I saw it between my mother and father. The fairy tale is real, and I won’t settle for less.”

“This is a different generation. But I wish you the best of luck with that.”

“Tell me your standards since you have so little faith in love.”

“I could tell you but it would be so much easier to show you.”

My stomach flips; I don’t know what that means. “A verbal description would suffice.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun. You can help me choose my first of ninety-nine fucks.”

Oh. That’s not what I thought he meant. It’s a total wakeup call for what Beau likes. “I don’t think so. It was lovely meeting you but I think it’s time for me to go in for the evening.”

“Don’t go, Peach. It’s still early.” All the more reason for me to get back to my suite before things heat up around this place.

I leave the water and go to my dress and panties on the beach. I shake my dress before pulling it over my head.

He comes out of the water and is by my side stepping into his trousers. “Did I say something to upset you?”

“Nah. It’s all good.” I’ve enjoyed my non-hedonist time with Beau, but he’s ready to go on the hunt. It’s time for this to end.

Despite attempting to decline, Beau insists on walking me back to my room. Claims he wants to ensure I make it there safely. That may or may not be the truth but it doesn’t matter.

He’s a hedonist.

Hell, he’s poly.

I’m not.

No way we’re happening.

I
t’s
eight in the morning. That’s early for a resort like Indulge, so I’m surprised to see the restaurant packed with a breakfast rush. I understand this is Indulge’s busiest time, but I thought more guests would be sleeping in this morning after partying long and hard last night.

There are familiar items on the breakfast menu. Bacon. Ham. Eggs. I can get all of those foods at home but I want to try new things.

“What do you recommend I sample first?” Meredith and Grayson are both chefs so they never steer me wrong.

“My favorite is the sweet potato pudding. But the cornmeal pudding is fantastic as well.” Meredith has a ginormous sweet tooth so I’m not surprised by her suggestions.

“They are good but a little sugary for my taste. The fish dishes are delicious but the callaloo and cheddar quiche is probably my favorite,” Grayson says.

“What in the world is callaloo?”

“It’s the Jamaican version of spinach.”

I’m all about exploring new foods, but I’m just not sure I can do fish for breakfast, especially after all the drinks I had with Beau last night. I’m not feeling my best. “I think I’d better go with the quiche today.”

“How was dining a la room service last night?”

Mere’s going to love this. “I wouldn’t know. I ended up going out for dinner.”

Meredith’s mouth gapes. “Shut up! Which restaurant?”

“Consume.”

Meredith narrows her eyes. “We walked by and saw a huge crowd waiting to be seated. Who’d you have to blow to get a table?”

Ugh. That’s just gross.

“I was told I would have to wait two hours to be seated or I could share a table with another single diner. I was too hungry to wait.” I say it nonchalantly, like dining with a stranger was no big deal, but my gal pal should have told me about that option.

“Shit. I forgot to tell you they offered that here during busy times. Just so you know, they do the same thing with rooms.”

“You mean strangers share rooms?”

Meredith tests the coffee placed in front of her before replying. “Yup.”

I go to work concocting the perfect cup of coffee with creamer and sugar. I have to add more than normal since it’s nearly black as tar. “I can’t believe people would do that. It’s so bizarre.”

“What did you think of the dinner companion you were paired with?” Grayson asks.

“He was very pleasant.”

Meredith smirks. “He.”

“Yes. A very handsome he.” Meredith looks pleased as punch.

“Tell me more about this handsome man you dined with.” She makes it sound like a date with potential.

“His name is Beau Emerson.” I watch Meredith’s face for some type of recognition. Nothing. Good. “He’s from Buckhead. What are the odds of that?”

“I’m not really surprised. Atlanta and its surrounding areas have a big swingers population. Since this is the most luxurious resort, I’d expect to see the Buckhead hedonists population here rather than those mediocre places in The Bahamas.”

“Beau’s not a swinger; he’s poly.”

Mere’s eyes widen. “Then he’s here with his partners?”

“His trio broke up a month ago. It ended poorly, particularly for him.”

“Those kinds of relationships rarely end well, and it’s the reason we’ll never go that way. Odd numbers never work,” Grayson says.

“You know an awful lot about this guy to have only had dinner with him.” Meredith is fishing for info.

She’s half-right. And I can’t stop smiling about the part she has wrong.

Meredith reaches over and punches my upper arm. “You’re blushing. What did you do?”

I smile, remembering the fun night I had with Beau. “We talked. We drank. We may have skinny-dipped.”

Meredith’s mouth gapes. “You little harlot!”

I wish. Maybe. “It was all innocent. Nothing happened.”

“And you look totally bummed about it.”

Bummed isn’t the right word. I think jilted is a better choice. “We were talking and having a great time when the conversation steered toward our standards for sex partners. He said he’d rather show than tell me. I thought he was flirting.” I recall the way it made me feel––good for the first time in months. “But then he told me I could help him choose his first fuck. It felt like I’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. I was reminded of the kind of game he was here to play, and the type of man I was dealing with, so I left him to do his thing while I came back to my suite.”

It was easy to think of Beau as a normal guy while we were having a regular conversation that didn’t include sexual tastes, but I slipped. I allowed myself to enjoy his company a little too much. My mistake.

I have no right to be upset; Beau told me of his true colors. He never pretended to be anything he wasn’t.

“He’s a hot guy. I’m sure he found plenty of willing women to do whatever he wanted.” I’m a little surprised to be bothered by that prospect.

Our conversation is briefly interrupted as breakfast is placed in front of us but Meredith is quick to return to our previous conversation. “I’m certain he didn’t mean to offend you.”

“My bet is he was probably trying to warm you up to the idea of a threesome by having you choose the other woman.”

Grayson’s idea might hold water if I’d not been crystal clear about being non-hedonistic, non-swinging, and non-poly. “I don’t think so. He called me a vanilla girl after I told him I wasn’t into any of the things that go on here.”

“Maybe he likes a challenge.” Meredith is looking at Grayson instead of me. I suspect there’s an underlying conversation I’m not hearing.

I enjoyed talking to him, but I don’t plan on being anyone’s challenge to be conquered. “This is a big resort. I doubt I’ll see him again.”

“That would be a shame. You connected with this guy, despite your differences,” Meredith says.

“I enjoyed talking to him. I could see us being friends.” His lifestyle doesn’t bother me, just as Meredith and Grayson’s choices don’t change my feelings toward them.

“The resort isn’t that big. You could run into him again.” Meredith is always the optimist, and I know she wants me to move beyond Drake, but I’m confused about why she’d push this. She knows I’ll only consider a monogamous relationship.

I shrug my shoulders, trying to appear as though I don’t care. “Meh. If I do, okay, and if I don’t, okay.”

“Right.” As my best friend, she can see right through me. “Still planning to hang out at the beach today?”

“Yeah. The
prude
one. By the way, I hate that name.”

“It’s a great beach. You’ll enjoy it.” It looked nice from what I could tell last night.

“What’s on today’s agenda for the two of you?” I asked the question without considering the possible kinky answer I’ll get.

“Couples scuba diving.”

“That sounds like a ton of fun.” I’ve always wanted to try it.

“We should probably get a move on, Mere. Our lesson begins in twenty minutes.”

Meredith takes a last chug of orange juice. “Want to go to dinner with us tonight?”

I hate eating alone. Makes me feel like such a loser. “Sure, if you don’t mind me being a third wheel.”

“Shut up. You’re never a third wheel.”

I
decide
to wear the new bikini Meredith gifted me—a black push-up halter top with a white tie between my breasts and the matching black bikini bottom with white ties on each hip. It sits super low so I’m rather proud I allowed Meredith to talk me into doing the full bikini electrolysis a few months ago.

I quickly discover I’m not the only goody-goody around here when I arrive at the prude beach. It’s early but there are so many people that only a few empty loungers remain. I choose a lone chair on the end since I’m hoping unwelcome company won’t bug me.

I untie the strings of my top behind my neck and stretch out on the lounger to soak up some rays. I’m not there five minutes before a cute cabana boy stands over me asking what kind of drink I’d like. “Bay Breeze, please.”

My drink is delicious, but I’m sipping since I plan to be careful. Heat and alcohol can be a dangerous combination if you don’t have the good sense to drink responsibly. And it would suck to get drunk, pass out, and deep-fry my ass in the Jamaican sun.

I relax, close my eyes, and listen to the waves. The sound is soothing but the people around me are disrupting my serenity.
Shut up, people.

I enjoyed this beach more last night. I’m not sure if that’s because it was void of all the current distractions or if Beau’s company simply made it more appealing.

I suspect both.

Damn. It’s hotter than a whorehouse on nickel night.
Slurp
! I finish my drink quicker than intended. I need a bottle of water next time hottie cabana boy comes around taking drink requests.

Is a gentle breeze too much to ask for?

My back needs sun so I roll to my stomach and stretch my arms overhead. I’m hopeful eliminating the direct exposure on my face will cool me down. It doesn’t.

Just when I think I can no longer take the heat, I’m abruptly shaded. “Peach. You could almost pass for the nude beach in that swimsuit. I can see your ass crack.”

There it is again. That deep, southern voice. There’s just something so warm and smooth about it, like a good whisky making its way down my throat.

I feel something in the pooling sweat at the dip of my lower back. It glides downward, moving into the waistband of my bikini bottom. I think it’s his finger. And it’s almost in the top of my butt cleft when I jolt straight up. “Hello? Boundaries! Do you have any?”

He’s laughing. “I do but they’re fairly limited.”

I definitely believe that.

My top is untied so I have to hold it in place. “No worries, Peach. I’ve already seen those.”

I haven’t forgotten. “Maybe but not in daylight.”

He taps my ankle with the back of his hand. “Scoot over.”

I wiggle across the lounger and secure my top behind my neck. He parks himself on the foot of my chair, turned so he’s facing me.

Shouldn’t he be sleeping in from his late night of whore hounding?
“What are you doing out and about so early?”

“Been up since six. I’m an early riser.”

I know what he did after we parted ways. “Even when you stay out all night partying and chasing booty?”

“No one has to chase booty here. It’s pretty much available twenty-four-seven to anyone who wants it.”

“Yeah. You keep telling me that.” I’m certain plenty was thrown in his direction after he escorted me to my room last night.

“Only because it’s true.”

“I assume you were able to find your first fuck without my assistance.” It isn’t my intention but I come off sounding bitter.

“It was a bust. I couldn’t find anyone to suit my fancy.”

I’m surprised how much that pleases me. “Then your standards must be exceptionally high.”

“They are.”

I’m curious about his night. “What did you end up doing after walking me back?”

“Jerking off in the shower.”

I conjure an image of what that must look like. If my face wasn’t flaming before, it is now. “My God, Beau! You have no filter.”

“You’re blushing. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Me stroking my cock?”

He’s so damn inappropriate. But right. “No! Of course not. My face is red because I’m sitting in the sun.” Total lie.

“You’re welcome to come to my room and watch if you like. I wouldn’t mind.”

Oh, my. I wouldn’t mind either, in fact, I would love that visual. “No, thank you.”

“Anna James. Are you always such a polite, vanilla girl?”

I love the sound of my name on his lips. “Yes. You might try it sometime.”

“Try being polite and vanilla or try out a polite, vanilla girl?”

Am I wrong to hope for the latter? Definitely. “Doesn’t matter which. I’m guessing you’d not be happy with either.”

He leans back on his palms, looking as though he doesn’t plan to leave any time soon. “No. Probably not.”

He didn’t have to agree so quickly. “You’re a very rude boy.”

“I haven’t been a boy in quite some time.”

I didn’t think so. “How old are you?”

“Old enough to know better.”

I don’t understand what he means but I’d like to. “Know better than what?”

Those damn dimples make another appearance. They’re such a distraction. “Nothing. I’m thirty-five.”

I knew he was older than me but I wouldn’t have guessed that. He has a much younger face. “I was thinking late twenties or early thirties.”

“I’m guessing you’re mid twenties.”

“Twenty-four.”

He nods, looking completely unsurprised. “I’m eleven years older. You might not want to hang out with an old geezer.”

“There are old geezers here, but you’re definitely not one of them.”

“A lot of the women who come here are only interested in the twenty-somethings. They’re under the impression they have bigger, harder dicks.” He peers over the top of his sunglasses. “They’re wrong.”

“I can’t compare the two, but I’m guessing a thirty-five-year-old with more experience knows just how to . . .” I feel heat rising in my cheeks again so decide not to continue that thought.

Beau chuckles. I see a single brow lift behind his sunglasses. “Yeah. I know just how to . . .”

I bet he does.

“My ex was twenty-five, and he was always far more concerned with how he was going to get off than how it felt for me.” That was probably TMI.

“Guys are sexually selfish during their twenties. I don’t think we figure things out until we reach thirty, give or take.”

“Then that would explain all the mediocre sex I’ve had.” I can’t believe I just admitted to that.

“You should never settle for sex that doesn’t curl your toes.”

This conversation feels like it’s rapidly leaving the friend zone. I need to change that. “What are your plans for today?”

“There are not a lot of activities going on right now. Mind if I hang out here with you?”

Beau’s looking pretty cozy on the foot of my lounger. “Umm . . . I think you already are.”

“Rephrase. Do you mind if I
continue
to hang with you?”

“That’s fine but I’m burning up. I’ve gotta go into the water to cool off.”