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The panic on his face is replaced by sheer rage. “What the fuck!?” he yells as he brings himself to stand. He paces back and forth angrily on the grass, pulling at his hair. “Mel! That isn’t funny! I thought you were dead!”
“It was just a joke,” I laugh, propping myself up on my elbows. “Relax.”
“God damn it! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I see tears in his eyes when he looks down at me now, and it wipes the smile off my face.
I guess maybe it wasn’t funny.
“I’m sorry, Ty,” I tell him.
He glares at me, shaking his head. “Fuck you for that, Mel,” he says before storming off toward the cabin.
“Ty…” I call after him. “Ty come on, please don’t be mad. I said I was sorry.”
He enters the cabin and slams the door behind him without even looking back.
Well, shit.
I sigh, retrieve my discarded cover-up from the dock, and pull it over my wet bikini. Then, I walk to the immaculate cabin’s front door and turn the knob but find it locked.
“Ty!” I shout while I pound my fist against the cabin’s front door. “Ty, come on. Let me in. I’m sorry.”
I continue this for a few minutes more before walking around to the back of the cabin, looking for another potentially unlocked door.
He was right about the backyard. It’s like walking through a dream. I follow a pebbled path lined with roses past a pergola with a porch swing that must be fifteen feet long, a mosaic firepit, and a second pergola draped in vines over the inground spa. When I get to the back sliding door, I find it locked, too.
“Ty!?” I yell as I peer through the glass. But I don’t see him, and I don’t get any response. Instead, “Scar Tissue” by The Red Hot Chili Peppers blares inside the house, drowning out the sound of my voice.
Frustrated, I let out a scream and stomp down the staircase. I pick up a rock from the flowerbed lining the deck, bring it back over my shoulder, and almost hurl it through the glass. Before I do, my eyes land on a place where I can easily climb onto the railing of the lower deck and then use the support beams to pull myself onto the second-floor balcony. I let the rock fall to the ground and start climbing.
“Ha!” I say as I swing my legs over. Victory. I smile to myself as I pull on the glass door, and it opens. “Ty?”
I’m sure he can’t hear me over the music. I make my way through the room, then into the hallway and down the staircase. I take my time; the detail in here—it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. The exposed dark wood beams, even the banister, are carved with floral patterns. Elaborate impressionist paintings decorate the walls, and the kitchen island is as big as the first floor of my house.
The entire place is a work of art. And to think I almost put a rock through the window.
I spot Ty below, wearing a white robe and reclining on a brown leather couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. When I reach the bottom, he still hasn’t spotted me.
“Hi, baby,” I say. He looks at me, still seething, and takes a long pull from the bottle.
“That wasn’t fucking funny, Amelia,” he says. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’m so sorry,” I say as I walk toward him. I climb onto his lap and put my hands on his shoulders, then run them down his chest. I fist the robe with both of my hands and ask, “What the hell are you wearing?”
I laugh a little, but he doesn’t.
“Well, Mel, it’s theirs. I’m wearing it while my boxers and t-shirt are in the dryer because they were soaked in the lake when I jumped in to save my fiancé, who thinks dying is a funny joke.”
“Don’t be mad at me,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t funny.”
I press my lips to his neck, then drag my tongue up to his earlobe, toying with it between my teeth.
“That’s not going to work,” he says.
“It’s already working,” I say, feeling him hard beneath me. I push the robe open and rock against the length of him, only the thin material of my bikini bottoms separating us. The pressure against my clit is absolutely delicious.
I moan and work my pussy over him until he gives in and grabs my hip, pushing me down harder while he grinds his cock into me. I pull my cover-up over my head, then he reaches back and unties the top, letting it fall away. He dips his head down and brings one of my hard nipples into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.
“Ty…” I moan, my clit throbbing and my body on fire. “Do you still hate me?”
