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The smallest of smiles curves the edge of her lips. “Would you?” she asks, and I raise an eyebrow, moving a little closer.
“No.” The word comes out huskier than I mean it to, her proximity affecting me even now. “You asked for a day with me, Gia. And I do want to give you what you want when I can.”
Her eyes widen a little, and I think I see that flicker of hope there, reflected in her, too.
“I’ll call for breakfast,” I tell her, taking a step back. “We can sit on the deck, have something to eat, and plan our day. What do you say to that?”
Gia bites her lip, but she nods. “Alright. That sounds nice.”
Breakfast is delivered, and Gia goes to shower and dress while we wait. When she comes out of the shower, I glimpse her through the glass door, her towel dropping to the floor as she reaches for the bikini that she laid out on the bed.
My body instantly reacts, every muscle tightening and my cock immediately swelling against my thigh. She’s so fucking perfect, every inch of her—from the lithe, taut muscles of her back to her narrow waist, and the heart-shaped curve of her ass. From this angle, I can just see the slight curve of her breast, and something about that drives me even more wild than seeing her breasts entirely bare. My palms itch with the urge to feel that soft shape against them, my cock suddenly stiff and throbbing, and I reach down, pushing the heel of my hand against it in an effort to subdue my erection.
I can’t help but wonder if she’s doing this on purpose—if she made sure to leave her clothes out in the bedroom in hopes that I’d see this little show she’s putting on for me. I let out a sharp, frustrated breath, squeezing the edge of the lounge chair’s cushion to keep myself from getting up and going to her.
It’s only made all the more difficult when she bends over to step into her bikini bottoms, her ass perfectly angled to give me a glimpse of her soft folds. I’m absolutely sure, in that moment, that she did it on purpose to torment me.
She stands up, hooking her bikini top behind her back, just as the staff member with our breakfast tray walks in. I’m so focused on Gia that I nearly jump with surprise at the sight of another person, breakfast totally forgotten in my fixation on my gorgeous, naked wife.
You need to start thinking of me as your wife. Her words float back to me as the guilt over ogling her begins to take root, and I do my best to push it away, to take into account what she said. There’s a part of me that knows she’s right. She’s young, and that will pose its own challenges in our relationship, but she isn’t a child. And she doesn’t deserve to be treated as less than the woman she is, just because I feel guilt over my choices.
“You look like you’re thinking particularly hard about something,” Gia teases as she walks out, waiting for breakfast to be set out on the table before taking her seat. She raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to come join me?”
She did do it on purpose. There’s no question of that, when her mouth is curved in that small smirk, her gaze flicking down to my lap as she waits for me to get up from the lounge chair and come join her at the table. If I stand up right now, there’ll be no missing the thick outline of my cock in my shorts.
It doesn’t help that she didn’t put a sundress on yet over her bikini. She picked the emerald green one, as if she figured out that I liked that one the best out of all of them. The color is perfect against her tanned, olive skin and dark hair, and just looking at her makes me ache.
Gia reaches over to pour orange juice and champagne into a flute glass as if nothing is amiss, putting scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, and a scone onto her plate. She glances up at me once more, that small smile still flickering at the corners of her mouth. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stop thinking about the throbbing between my legs as I push myself to my feet and walk over to join her.
She doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the way her gaze flicks down to the front of my shorts ever so briefly, before returning to her food. “So what do you want to do today??” she asks innocently as I sit down, reaching for her mimosa.
I can think of one thing right now. I press my lips together. I have no intention of saying anything even close to that. For one, I don’t know if I’m ready to go back on my insistence that our marriage bed will remain cold, other than for the purpose of having children. I’m not sure if I’m ready to allow the kind of lust that I felt for Gia yesterday to be an acceptable feeling to have about my wife, or if I’m ready to let myself feel that kind of desire entirely, instead of when I can no longer keep it on a leash. And for another, that’s not what Gia asked for last night, when she talked about today.
“I’m afraid planning vacation days isn’t my strong suit,” I say wryly, reaching for the orange juice. “But I’m open to ideas.” I pour a little into my glass, adding champagne.
“What about all of this?” Gia motions to the villa around us, and I laugh.
“Well, one of the perks of our lifestyle is that whatever needs to be done, there’s always someone who can be hired to do it. My assistant, and a very good travel agent put together a portfolio of ideas and sent them over to me, and I approved what I thought you would enjoy—the villa, the room service, all of that. I told them to spare no expense,” I add. “I wanted this to be an unforgettable experience for you, Gia, regardless of the reasoning behind why we left. I told them to make certain to book the best of everything that was available.”
Gia gives me an odd half-smile. “That was sweet,” she says softly. “Anything you planned yourself would have meant a lot, though, you know. All of this is beautiful, and stunning, and I’ve definitely never experienced anything like it. But I want us both to put some thought into today.”
“You first.” I return her smile. “And we can bounce ideas off of each other. How about that?” I can see that she’s full of them, and I truthfully didn’t plan to do much more than enjoy the villa itself at night, and work.
“You did say you’d never really been on a vacation before,” Gia admits, shaking her head. She leans forward, pursing her lips as she scoops up a bite of salmon and eggs with her fork. “Well, I was thinking we could walk around the market first. I went there on my first day here, and it’s a lot of fun. A lot of unique vendors, fun foods, that kind of thing. And then we could go down to the beach, lay out for a little while, go for a swim. When we’re ready for lunch, we can go to one of the beachside restaurants—a different one,” she adds quickly, when she sees my gaze darken at the memory of the bar I found her at yesterday. “Have lunch and a drink, maybe walk through some of the shops. And then, after dinner, we could go back out to one of the bars. Supposedly, there’s live music and dancing. That could be fun. It’s been a while since I went out dancing,” she adds. “Not since the last gala I went to with my father, and that feels like it was ages ago. And those parties are all so stuffy, anyway. I feel like this would be different. More relaxed.”
I feel another vague flare of panic. Dancing at a beachside bar sounds so far out of the realm of something I would do that I can’t even quite picture it. But I see Gia’s eyes light up as she describes her ideas, and I find myself not wanting to disappoint her. In fact, I find myself wanting to go along with her ideas, just to see if it would be as much fun as she seems to feel that it would. “I can’t think of anything to add. But everything you’ve suggested sounds like all of the best things we could get up to here. I’m fine with that.”
Gia’s smile broadens, just a little, and I feel something flip in my chest. I like making her smile, I realize. I like making her happy. And despite what happened yesterday, I find myself willing to look past it, if there’s the possibility of fixing how we got there in the first place.
“I’m going to go finish getting dressed,” Gia says, when she’s done with her breakfast and mimosa. “Give me maybe twenty minutes?”
“You can have as long as you need,” I assure her. “If it’s a day off, then there’s no rush, right?”
Gia laughs. “Now you’re getting the idea. And put on some swim shorts,” she adds. “We’re going to the beach, remember?”
Her laugh tugs at something in my chest. It’s bright and happy, a sound I can’t really recall having heard from her since we’ve been married, and certainly never directed towards me. It makes me want to hear it again, to do something else that pulls that sound from her. It makes me feel happy, in a way that I can’t remember having felt in a long time.
“Alright,” I concede. “I did bring a pair, although it’s been a long time since I’ve used them.”
