Page 50 of Parentmoon

“You don’t need to buy me things.” I glance at him, giving him a timid smile. “But these are really beautiful, and I’ll always think of this day when I look at them. I’ll never forget this time with you. Thank you.”

Tipping up on my toes, I kiss him, quick and brief, but he cups the back of my neck, catching me before I retreat too far and brings me back for something longer, deeper, but not obscene before the crafter.

“I’ll always remember this time with you, too, darlin’.”

Once in a lifetime.

After our purchase, we return to our loungers where our lunch arrives within minutes. We sit under the open-air canopy to eat, chatting casually about the food and places Dallas has been with some unique delicacies.

After lunch, Dallas shifts one of the loungers into the shade and falls asleep in the gentle breeze.

While I’m relaxed, I can’t sleep, my thoughts swirling around about Michael and Keli, and then drifting to Dallas, wondering about his dating history. The bracelets he bought me rest in my bag while Dallas immediately slipped his on his thicker wrist. He might have never brought a woman to his house in Belize, but what other places has he traveled with a companion? What gifts has he lavished on others?

He’s very good at reading me, saying things that almost make me believe he’s perfect. Self-doubt erupts. I’d never be enough for him. Not difficult but easy. Simple. Understated. Forgettable.

You haven’t asked for anything, he’d said. I’d be afraid to admit what I really want. For now, I’m just soaking up the moments, hoping to survive the aftermath of this vacation once we separate because we will separate. There will be long-lasting effects to my heart. As I said to him, I’ll always remember our time here, bracelets on my wrist or not.

A sharp snore from Dallas abruptly wakes him, and I bite my lip, holding back a chuckle.

“Tired?” I arch a brow while smiling at him.

“Someone’s been keeping me up at night.”

“We didn’t do anything last night,” I tease.

His brow lifts. “My dick begs to differ.” Dallas rolls to sit upright and scrubs both hands over his face. “In fact, he’s begging for attention right now.”

Unable to help myself, I glance between his spread thighs, which gives me a view of the hard wedge in his snug swim shorts.

Dallas reaches for his baseball cap and tugs it on his head. “Come in the water again with me.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. His voice seduces me all on its own.

As I follow Dallas into the shallow ocean, he flattens his body into a gentle breaststroke, leading us to the other side of the long pier, separating the beaches. When we approach the end of the wooden structure, Dallas tucks us underneath the decking near a pylon, keeping most of our bodies submerged. He flipped his ball cap, and the backward cap makes him look young despite the silvery beard. We make out like randy teens in the shadow of the pier. Kissing me hard and fast, he tilts my head and rushes his tongue into my mouth, claiming me in a new way.

His kiss is summertime sweetness when I’m nearing the autumn of my life.

“Want to be inside you, darlin’,” Dallas groans, nudging his hard length between my legs.

“Dallas,” I warn, worried someone might see us despite our hidden position.

“Just one little dip.” He presses against me, as if he can break through the barrier of bathing suits. Kissing me once more, he’s nearly drunk on my mouth and my body is thirsty for him. Dallas is pushing against me, maneuvering his tight tip to catch right where I’m sensitive, tempting me to give in.

“It would feel so good.” His voice is nearly a whine, desperate to enter me.

“We could be caught.” The idea of sex in broad daylight, in such a public place, makes me self-conscious. Maybe I really am too simple, unadventurous, lame even.

He uses his thumb to push aside my bathing suit bottoms and then works his suit down his hips enough to release his hard-on. He places the tip at my entrance. He’s so close and the slightest movement would have him entering me.

“Dallas,” I warn, conflicted. Despite the shade of the pier and the water up to our chests, this doesn’t feel smart or safe.

“Jo.” He breathes out my name, a rush of desire in a single syllable. We’re paused between moving forward and pulling back. Dallas tips back his head with a heavy exhale and I press at his chest. He sets me free. Treading a foot away from him, Dallas scoops up water and swipes it over his face. Then he slips beneath the surface, baseball cap and all, and I right my bathing suit. When he resurfaces, disappointment mars his cheeks and jaw.

“I’m sorry I ruined it.” My apology is weak, but I’m not an exhibitionist. I also don’t think I should be apologizing for something that makes me uncomfortable.

Curiosity about his past experiences come to mind again. How far he’s gone with other women. The risks they’ve taken together. The excitement they must have given him.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he says, but his tone says otherwise.