Notes from the author:
Thanks to all who have been so supportive in my new venture. I wanted to fit more into chapter 5, but found myself too eager to get this submitted for publication. Enjoy!
*****
After returning to my suite, I had rewarded myself with a nice long nap, followed by a long overdue bearclaw, and a seriously overpriced Evian from the mini fridge.
I sterilized and treated Joe's bite mark, and covered it as best I could with a bandage. Even the largest bandage they had at that shop was not quite big enough to cover the span of the horrific mark. It would have to do. The rest I could keep covered with my new scarf.
With that, I proceeded to shave my legs and bikini, which were already presentable, but needed a quick touch up. I then rummaged through my bag to find my swimsuit. Dammit, why had I not packed my one-piece? I knew I looked good in my yellow bikini, but after all that had happened in the past 24 hours, it would surely make me feel all the more vulnerable.
Fuck him. I would not let him rob me of my confidence and ruin my vacation. He could go to hell.
Resolved, I began to apply a generous layer of sunscreen to my body. Trying to ignore the sensitivity in my breasts and the heat between my legs, I made sure I was covered. I was just about finished when I realized I could not get complete coverage on my back. Not without a helping hand. Shoot. Apparently, I would just be tanning my front today. Maybe if I ran into Michael again he would help me do my back. I sure as hell would not be asking Joe.
After slipping into my bikini, I went to check myself in the mirror, and was taken by surprise. I looked hot. Buxom, sexy, and confident. With the exception of the large bandage on the side of my neck, I looked fabulous. Like a pin-up girl from the 50's.
I never wore two-piece suits. It was an impulse buy at Macy's over a year ago. Like an idiot, I had packed it, hoping to strut my stuff on this cruise, teasing a bunch of random horny guys I would never see again. I longed now for my play-it-safe black one-piece. Maybe I could pick one up at the gift shop or something on my way back. I recalled them having a good selection.
I grabbed my new pink scarf and draped it over my shoulders, concealing the bandage. Oh my God, I loved this scarf! It was just as pretty as expected, and really complimented my yellow bikini.
Completing the ensemble with my sunglasses, sandals, and beach hat, I looked completely out of character. I looked so...glamorous. Almost humorously so. Dressing to impress was so foreign to me that I doubted if I could make it to the sun deck before turning red as a tomato from embarrassment. I needed to pull myself together.
I stood up straight, shoulders back, chin up, and obtained one of the courtesy beach towels from the closet. Wrapping it around my hips, I grabbed my purse and once again headed swiftly to the elevator.
Breathe. Breathe. You're almost there.
I was light headed from nerves when I finally reached the sun deck, but upon breathing the amazing ocean air, I felt renewed. It was nearly 11:30, and passengers were buzzing around, laughing and yelling, content to be away from their normal lives for a week. None of them seemed to give a damn about me, or my bikini, which was a huge relief. There were half naked women and men, everywhere. I had nothing to feel embarrassed about. This was a cruise for God's sake. Encouraged, I made a stop at the bar, and requested a piña colada, "easy on the rum".
While they prepared my drink, I surveyed the poolside area, looking for a quieter more isolated section. At the far end of the deck, there was a small stretch of unoccupied lounges—probably because they were farther from the pool and bar. It would be perfect to get some sun, and catch up on my book without being disturbed.
"Thank you!" I tipped the bartender after accepting my drink, and headed with purpose over to my lounge chair. I felt so much better. I felt that this was the official start of my vacation, and I could finally unwind.
Setting my drink down, I removed my towel and arranged it flat over the lounge. Self conscious again about my "huge ass," I sat down quickly and pulled my book from my bag. It was a more generic romance slash suspense novel--vanilla enough to read in public without fear of judgment, but deep enough to keep my attention. The more graphic and kinky stuff I saved for after dark, in the guaranteed privacy of my own bedroom. But all the kink novels in the world had not prepared me for the onslaught that Joe had unleashed upon me last night.
I shook myself out of those dark thoughts, and focused on my book. I was one chapter in, and halfway through my drink, when I heard a deep voice say, "Well hello."
My stomach flip-flopped, and I hesitantly looked up from my book. To my relief, it was Scott. The man who had bought me a drink at the bar last night. The gentleman.
"Oh, hi!" I greeted him, nearly weeping with relief.
"Looks like you have made yourself comfortable. Catching up on a good book?" he inquired. It was more small talk.
"Yeah, I like reading. It helps me escape from stress." I indulged him.
"I would have thought the sun and sea air would help a bit with that," he joked.
I laughed. "Fair enough. What have you been up to?"
"Just checking things out, pretty much," he replied. "I'm planning on exploring the coral reefs tomorrow in Nassau, but today it seems I'm restricted to overcrowded buffets, bad karaoke, and poker tables."
"And hitting on innocent women," I teased.
He raised an eyebrow at that, but couldn't help revealing a boyish grin. He really was handsome, I had to admit. The glint of mischief in his eyes, as I called him on his true motive, was cute as well as intriguing.
"Well you got me," he admitted with his hands up. "I'm sorry if I was too forward last night," he apologized.
Little did he know that it was quite the opposite.
