Against All Odds

Chapter 45

KILLIAN

It was Stella's horrendous serenading that eventually broke me.

Hearing The Foo Fighters The Best of You's lyrics butchered by her own variations as she shouted them through the wall dividing our respective suites, and then when that didn't work, she moved outside to belt it out from the pool because of course she swam to my side of the patio, was enough to grate on my sanity and my reluctant amusement.

"I've got a confession to make," she had wailed endlessly, "I need yoooouuu... to go snor-kuh-liiing with meeeee!"

If she was this determined to spend time with me, then I would cave to it- but I'd be damned if I tried very hard to hide my desire for her anymore.

It was the worst sort of torture, this insistent craving for her body but not being able to have her while she was so close to my reach.

Her rejection still stung- a persuasive reminder that anchored my heart in turmoil and need. None of that was alleviated by her proximity- as much as I still enjoyed being around her.

But I couldn't hide it anymore. It was a futile struggle. Anyway, she was bound to notice the impact she had on my body when I started sporting a hard-on that wouldn't quit whenever I caught sight of her smile.

And she would just have to deal with it accordingly.

She had always been able to convince me to do just about anything, anyway- but that was the effect Stella had on me. Even if I had to endure hours of heartache because, despite my threats and despite the desperate urgings of my body, I couldn't touch her or haul her into my arms for a blistering kiss, I would do it for her.

So that was how I ended up on the back of a two-person kayak, my arms straining as we paddled out into the endless blue ocean as the sun beat down on my shoulders, with Stella perched in front of me.

And the view was an entirely different sort of torture.

The ripe curve of her plump ass compressed deliciously against the seat was almost bared to me, covered sparsely in a colourful strip of fabric that made up her revealing one-piece.

I had known I would be tortured by her presence, so I couldn't even blame the unknown for this, and I simply had to endure the ache of my straining cock as it bulged against the restrictive fabric of my shorts as we paddled on.

She dumped her oar across her thighs and twisted her torso to peer at me above the frame of her sunglasses. "Everything OK?"

My biceps pulsed as I thrust my own oar into the gentle waves and propelled us forward. "Shut up and paddle."

Her gaze dipped and lingered on my chest and arms, but her smile was sunny and unperturbed by the sourness of my mood. "I think the sandbar is close, just up ahead."

I paused at that and glanced around. We were miles out yet, our guide a few yards ahead of us. Two other couples also on the excursion trailed behind us.

Surprisingly, Stella and I were remarkably coordinated and formed an easy rhythm the moment we had started paddling, pushing ahead of everyone else and making good time through the water.

Allowing us a moment's break, I set my oars across my thighs while the narrow craft bobbed and drifted in a mild current as I fished for a bottle of water from my backpack. "We've been at it for an hour. When you said we were going snorkelling, you didn't say anything about having to kayak for an eternity just to stare at some fish."

Her smile grew wider and my dick grew harder.

Fuck me.

"It's part of the experience," she said, blithely unaware that she was the cause of every errant strain of need coursing through my veins. "I think it's cool. When are you going to get the chance to park off on a tidal sandbar out in the middle of the ocean again?"