Black Diaries

43. Happy Vacation

What in the name of...?

I stared at Elliot walking straight into the water. Seafoam was already caressing his ankles.

"Elliot! Stop! You'll ruin your suit! You'll—"

He wasn't listening. Instead, he was marching towards me through the waves, not even bothering to take off his tie.

"Elliot, this is crazy! How much did that suit of yours cost? Five-hundred dollars? Six-hundred?"

"No," he told me without slowing down a bit. "Six-thousand."

"Six-thousand dollars? Elliot Winslow, get your stupid, delicious, expensively covered ass out of the water now!"

Still, he didn't stop. The corner of his mouth that was already quirked up, rose another quarter of an inch. "You think my ass is delicious?"

"Yes, blast you! Elliot, you shouldn't—"

My protest was abruptly cut off when he reached me. Strong arms went around me, catching me in the middle of a stroke and simply lifting me out of the water, pressing me against his hot, hard body. Oh God... His ass wasn't the only part of him that was delicious.

"You're getting yourself wet!" I protested, weakly.

"Oh, trust me..." The wicked fire in his eyes burst into a full-fledged inferno. "Soon, I won't be the only one."

And covering my mouth with his, we sank into the gentle waves together.

❤☠❤☠❤☠❤☠❤

"Do you want breakfast?"

I looked up at Elliot, who was just gathering up his clothes. After being discarded rather hastily, most of them had washed up in an interesting chaotic pattern on the surf. His left shoe had sunk, never to be seen again.

"Yes, thank you." I smiled up at him. "For some reason I can't explain, I feel rather tired and hungry."

"Then we'll go back up to the pavilion." Wringing it out as best he could, Elliot pulled his sodden white shirt back over his torso. The thin, wet fabric didn't do much to hide the hard ridges and planes of his muscles. He sent me a devious half-smile, and I felt my heart speed up. "After all, what am I here for if not for satisfying your hungers?"

Damn! How was it possible that after I had just spent over an hour playing hammerhead with him in the water, I could still want more of him? It wasn't fair for any one person to be so infernally alluring!

I took a step towards him. "What kind of hungers are we talking of, exactly?" My appetite had already subsided again, and my eyes were glued to his form.

"You greedy little mermaid..." Pulling me against him for a moment, he placed a kiss on the wet crown of my head. "The ones best fulfilled sitting around a table."

"Not lying on the table?" I asked, hopefully.

"No."

"Not fair!"

"Don't worry. Those will come later."

I peeked up at him from between tangled, wet strands of hair. "Promise?"

In answer, he only gave me a look—but it was a look that was as good as a thousand promises.

A few minutes later, we stepped through the open walls of the pavilion further up the beach, and to my considerable surprise, were greeted there by the smiling face of a middle-aged Indian lady who was busily juggling pots, pans, and various other kitchen utensils that were a complete mystery to me.