I lay under the sun of Miami, letting the time pass by on a chaise-longue of the Thompson Miami Beach hotel. All I can hear is the soft babble of people and occasional splashing of the water of the huge pool. I’m burning, but I’m honestly to relaxed and lazy to care. My thoughts diverge to Mark. It’s been only five days, but I don’t think I’ll bear two whole weeks without seeing him. I knew it would be like this; I was stupid to say yes to my parents. Miami’s fun, but I’m saturating. The landscape, the cocktails, the water, the bronzing, it’s awesome but without Mark, it’s not that interesting. I’m bored, every day. I just miss him, so much. I miss it when he runs his nose along mine, or when he eskimo kisses me, I even miss his cruel tickling. I miss his touch, his body, his hands…his tongue…Hmmm….
“Princess, can I ask you a question?” My father asks from beside me. My mom was in the pool last time I opened my eyes. I sigh, feeling thwarted. I liked where my train of thoughts was going.
“Hmmm.” I hum carelessly.
“Did you sleep with Mark?” He asks me. I freeze, under the shock. I have a moment of blank mind. Did he really just-
“What?” I ask, opening my eyes and lifting my aviator sunglasses to look at him better. Laying on his belly on his chaise longue, he’s gazing at me.
“Did you have sex with him?” He repeats, and he sounds detached, casual. What the fuck? This really goes beyond me. No matter how fucked up a family can be, a father doesn’t ask this question to his daughter. It’s plain wrong. I understand he would want to know, but daring to ask! He has some nerves.
“I’m trying to come up with an answer that’s not a yes nor a no, and all Ivan think of is: that’s literally none of your business.” I mutter, putting my sunglasses back on my nose. Jeez, my dad can really be a pain in the neck sometimes.
“You know what sex means for you.” He says. I gasp. He insists!
“Dad, stop!” I snarl, because come on, he can’t do this to me. What is his problem?
“I’m not saying I’d be pleased to know you’ve slept with him,-”
“I can’t believe you’re talking about this.” I lift my eyes to the sky. I’m stunned, speechless and shocked. How embarrassing is this? And why would he bring that up now? In the middle of our vacation?
“Abigail, it would mean he’s won your trust.” He replies calmly. This has to stop.
“Dad, shut up!” I mutter through gritted teeth and get up from my seat. He sighs, holds in hands in the air in a ‘okay! Jeez I was just asking" way and closes his eyes. I quickly throw my blue maxi dress on. I need to get away from this indiscreet bear. I slip my feet in my flip-flops.
“And if you dare ask him that question, you lose your only daughter.” I mutter, and he waves his hand at me in a “yeah yeah” way. Fuming with anger, I amble off and go to the bar of the hotel. I have something like twenty bucks, and I need a cocktail.
It at the counter of the bar and order a Palauxma to refresh myself and dial my dear, dear loved one. He picks up at the first ring.
“Hello, miss sunshine, blue bikini and cocktails.” Mark murmurs, and it makes me smile. He’s seen my Instagram.
“Hi.” I’m grinning like a fool despite my mood.
“You okay?” He asks wearily. Jeez, he’s figured out by hearing my voice?
“This trip is becoming a living hell.” I say sadly.
“I’m frustrated and moody.”
“Why are you frustrated and moody?” I believe the quick exhale I hear is a chuckle. He’s amused.
“Because I miss you.” I say sulkily, pouting.
“I miss you more.” He says cutely.
“My dad asked me if we already had sex.”
“You’re kidding.” He laughs, loudly. "What did you reply?“
“That it was none of his business.” I say, and he starts giggling again. It’s not funny! Just a little bit.
“I hate being stuck with them.” I say once his giggle fit ceases.
“You’re not going to run away, are you?” He asks hurriedly. I roll my eyes.
“No, I’m not.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the hotel's bar-Jeez, I said I won’t run away.”
“My worry is entirely justified. I don’t want you to run away again, especially not in a city you don’t know.” He says.
“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to find me.” I tease.
“That’s true. I would find you.” He replies dryly. “But I don’t want to find you hurt, or worse.” He says. Oh, I don’t like where this is going.
“I won’t run away.” I reassure him.
“Okay.” He says. My glass is empty, and I still don’t feel relaxed. I need something strong. Quickly, I summon the barman and order a Moscow Mule.
“And you, what are you doing out?” I ask Mark. I’ve noticed a distant babble noise from his side of the line.
“I’m at a bar too.” He says simply.
“Nobody.” He says, and I frown. “I like to do that sometimes.” He says in explanation.I’m quickly distracted as the barman serves me my Moscow Mule. Hmmm…vodka, life water.
“This one’s alcoholized, young miss.” Mark says disapprovingly from the other side of the line.
“What?” I reply, confused. What is he saying? How does he know I’m drinking an alcoholized cocktail? My shoulders rise and a shiver runs down my spine. There’s only what he would know. He’s here.
I scan the bar anxiously, but there’s no sign of him. When I turn back to the bar Mark his leaning in front of me.
“I did not know that trip involved getting drunk.” He says, serious, but teasing. Teasing me, in front of my eyes. He’s here!Holy-
“How? When-” I stutter in shock, because I can’t think of anything else to say. Mark smiles at me and plants a soft kiss of my lips. Fuck, he’s really here! Kissing him back, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. He’s here! My man is here. I’m grinning from ear to ear when we pull away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I came to see you.” He says as if it was the most natural thing. I feel warm in my chest.
“You came for me?”
“Yes. You thought I would accept spending two whole weeks without seeing you?” He murmurs before kissing me again. He’s so dreamy…
“When did you arrive?” I ask him.
“An hour ago.” He says, combing his fingers in my hair.
“You’re staying here?”
He runs his nose along mine. I kiss it. He’s flown across the whole country to see me. I’m such a lucky bitch. Seriously. Everything is going to be fine now he’s here. I don’t even care about having to deal with my indiscreet- Shit!
“You’re not supposed to be here. My parents-” I stutter, suddenly panicked. My parents won’t like this. They’ve been clear, it’s a family trip. I glance around the bar anxiously. What if they are here?
“I know. I’m leaving tomorrow evening.” He grabs my chin and makes me looks at him.
“Tomorrow?” I repeat. I feel a little pang of disappointment. I circle my arms around his waist.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” I murmur, placing my head against his chest. He smells heavenly, as usual.
“I’ve missed you.” He kissed my hair.
“I’ve missed you more.” I murmur before pulling away. He gazes down at me.
He traces the outline of my round collar with his finger, and his touch resonates deep inside of me. Then he trails his finger from the top of my thigh to knee.
“You look lovely, Abby. You’re all long legs and tanned skin.” He murmurs appreciatively. He’s in a white T shirt and Bermuda shorts, his sunglasses hanging on the collar of his V neck. He looks yummy.
“And you look hot, as usual.” I murmur. He smirks before kissing me below my ear.
“You shouldn’t be drinking.” He says, nibbling at my earlobe. I gasp.
“Take me to your room.” I murmur. He gives me a wolfish grin. He fishes his wallet out of his pocket and pays for my drinks.
“Come.” He says, holding his hand out to me.
“I fully intend to.” I reply with a salacious smile, hopping off the stool.
“Abigail, you’re very rude.” He says disapprovingly, but he’s amused.
Mark is staying at the floor just below mine, and he has a spacious bedroom. As soon as we step in, Mark pins me against the door, and his lips find mine. He kisses me, hard, passionate, and I feel like being born again, all my senses alert as desire sweeps through me. Ah…
Mark and I lay on his bed, tangled like noodles. I have my arm thrown over his stomach, my head on his chest and my leg between his. I trace small patterns on his skin, my eyes closed as my body goes back to sanity. I feel relaxed and happy. I needed sex. Jeez, Abigail.
“Do you think we have too much sex?” I ask, playing with his pubic hair. Why do I always touch him there? It’s fuzzy and soft but not too soft, and it’s him.
“I’ll never get enough of you.” He murmurs, his lips against my hair. Nor I’ll him. But honestly, we’re constantly having sex.
“Is it normal that we have so much sex whenever we see each other?” I ask. I feel so stupid to ask, but I know nothing about relationship.
“Yes, Abby. Jeez, you really think too much.” He says, and I can tell he’s rolling his eyes.
“You used to have sex like this with your exes?” I ask him.
“No. Not that much.” He says. So, it’s not normal! But then his past relationships weren’t normal. We’re not normal either.
“I’m not complaining at all. I crave intimacy with you.” He adds. Now I’m just wondering how he used to have sex.
“Have you ever done some crazy things in bed?” I ask him, apprehending his reaction. I’m not sure he likes my question.
“No. Not really.” He says simply. I feel bad for being so relieved.
“But now that you’re mentioning this, I would love to explore with you.” He says, running his fingers down my spine, then up again, then down until he’s cupping my naked behind.
“Explore?” I look up at him.
“Try things.” He shrugs. Now I’m curious, my scalp starts to prickle.
“What kind of things?” I ask. He shrugs again, clueless.
“See, sex hasn’t really meant something with my exes. But it does with you, it just means more. It means everything sometimes.” He murmurs before kissing my nose. My chest warms up again. It’s true. Sometimes I get so emotional during sex, and I feel so connected whenever we’re in bed.
“What if someday we can’t have sex anymore?” I say. He smiles down to me.
“We’ll find something that means as much as sex does.” He murmurs. I’m reassured. I nuzzle his neck.
“I’m glad you came.” I whisper.
“I’m more than glad you came.” He says, making laugh. Oh, Mark!
“You’re a pervert.” I tease.
“Yes.” He chuckles.
“I love you.” I murmur.
“And I you, baby.” He says, and with that, I drift away.
I wake feeling as if I’d just had the sweetest night of my life. I’m aware of being naked, only my leg covered by the bed sheets. I stretch, feeling stiff. When I open my eyes, Mark is watching me, a small smirk on his face, and he’s sitting at the desk, his laptop open on it.
“Enjoying the view?” I yawn. I’m sprawled out like a starfish, but I don’t care, I know he loves my body.
“Always.” He replies, closing his laptop. Standing, he strolls over to the bed. His just in his boxers. Hmmm…more sex? We’ll have to see how much time we have until I have to find my parents. My parents!
“Shit!” I sit up abruptly, panicked. How long have I been sleeping for? I quickly check my phone. Five hours! It’s almost dinner time. I have four missed calls.
“What’s wrong?” Mark asks, one knee on the edge of the bed. Shit, shitty shit. Crap. I leap out of bed.
“My parents are looking for me.” I say hurriedly, putting my bikini bottom back on. I struggle with the top.
“Can you help me?” I ask Mark, and he ties the straps behind my back. I throw my dress on.
“You’re going to come back, right?” He asks wearily as I slip my feet in my flip-flops. He looks worried.
“Yes. I’ll text you.” I reply sweetly, kiss him and exit to join my parents.
I found the greatest lie to tell. I told my parents I had made a new friend here. A girl who was here with her parents too, that we hung out in her room and fell asleep. The sleeping part is true. I had to wait midnight to join Mark again. I wanted to besure my parents were asleep. Jeez, if they had knows… Oh, Mark is crazy for doing this. But I love him so. I spent the night telling him while me made love again.
Sweet tingles full me away from sleep.
“Wake up.” Mark whispers into my ear, and then his lips are at my earlobe. I groan. I feel like we’re in the middle of the night.
“I have go back to LA now.” He murmurs, his voice louder than before, definitely tearing me away from Morpheus’s arms. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Mark is gazing down at me.
“Hi.” He murmurs before kissing my forehead. I rub my eyes. He’s in jeans and an untucked white shirt.
“What time is it?” I rasp, yawning. I close my eyes.
“It’s seven in the morning.” He kisses my cheek. He’s leaving already?
“I thought you were supposed to go this evening.” I whine, half asleep.
“Change of program. I have to leave now.” He says. He changed his flight? I open my eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask him. Something must be wrong.
“Flood in my apartment.” He says. Ah…
“When is your flight?”
“In two hours.”
“Finish your night in your room.” He murmurs, gently patting my behind to get me up. My limbs not cooperating, I painfully get out of bed. I collect my phone, slip my flip-flops on and drape my cardigan around my shoulders.
Once we’re outside his room, Mark swings his tiny travel bag over his shoulder while we wait for the elevators.
“I’m sorry I had to wake you up.” He pulls me to his side. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle his chest.
“Thank you for coming.” I murmur, squeezing him. I don’t care about the fact that he woke me up, I have plenty of time to catch upon my sleep, but the fact that he took the plane to see me. I feel like a princess.
“You’re most welcome, Abby. But I mainly did this for myself. Ican be selfish when it comes to you.” He says. Smooth bastard.
“I love you.” I get on my tip toes and kiss him.
“I love you too.” He murmurs. There’s a small ding and his elevator comes to a halt, the door sliding open. I pout while he kisses me, but eventually let him go. My elevator comes a moment later, and when I climb in, there is a woman inside. She has auburn hair like me and brown eyes, and she gibes me a warm smile. She grins at me, as if she had missed me. Creep. Looking down, I step into the elevator.
“Hello.” She says. I scan her quickly. She’s in a tank top, shorts and sandals. I press my floor button. Thank god it’s just one floor.
“Do we know each other?” I ask her. She smiles again.
“No. But I’ve always wanted to see you.” She says sweetly. She’s crazy.
“You know me?” I ask her. She shakes her head. Briefly, I consider the idea of her being an ex of Mark, but her nails are poorly manicured, her clothes don’t look expensive and she has a Nokia Lumia. She’s not rich at all. And we’re in Miami.
“I’ve see you around. You look familiar.” She says simply. I’m alittle bit relieve. She’s not a creeper, just a crazy woman. The elevator comes to a halt.
“Good bye.” I mumble without a single glance in her direction and step out. I feel her hands on my wrists. She snatches my bracelet.
“Hey!” When I turn the doors are already closing. What the fuck?! It was a love bracelet, I was going to make one for Mark too! Crazy bitch!