KILLIAN
I had twenty minutes to myself before I found Stella slinking into my bungalow. She pried open the glass sliding door that led out to the patio with surprising stealth for a woman who was prone to tripping over her own ankles more often than not.
A welcome breeze drifted over me where I reposed on the sofa, attempting to will away the occasional spasm of pain that shot up my testicles. I'm not sure what I would do if she made me hard- which she was very capable of doing considering she was still in that damn one piece and her hair was a wild tangle of clustered knots and waves over her pink shoulders.
"Remind me to lock that door from now on," I told her dryly as she crept forward, a wary look about her.
"I'm sorry," she said, coming to sit beside me on the couch, and ignoring my insinuation that she was trespassing. She perched on the very edge, uneasiness settling around her like a heavy cloak. "I ordered some ice and drinks from room service."
"It's OK, Stels. It's not that bad- I just need a moment."
She didn't look reassured. Her gaze dropped to my crotch, thankfully behaving itself, and she chewed her lip. "I did a quick google search," she explained, her gaze raising to join with mine, "and I learnt that if you have pain for more than an hour and it doesn't subside, you should get medical attention."
"Thank you for the concern over my cock, but I'm fine. Honestly."
The bell chimed at my suite's door and Stella hopped to her feet, trotting over to answer it before I could utter any form of enquiry. Although, she did say that she had ordered something from room service, so I could assume that it was merely her items being brought dutifully by the concierge.
My assumptions were proven right moments later when she set a tray on the table in front of me- a table that still had a bottle of champagne and a fruit basket from my arrival yesterday that I hadn't touched. Stella set about making me an ice pack by stuffing a hand towel she retrieved from the bathroom full of ice cubes and twisting the ends together. Handing it to me, I accepted it purely on the basis that I didn't have the energy to protest her administrations.
If she wanted to play nurse, so be it.
Also pressing the ice to my dick and balls helped prevent the burgeoning arousal that was always prevalent when Stella was around.
Next, she grabbed one of the beers from an ice bucket and popped it open, handing it to me, then did the same for herself. She also placed the champagne amongst the other beers that remained in the ice bucket to chill, then she resumed her position on the sofa beside me, folding her calves under her legs and turning slightly towards me.
"If the pain doesn't subside in the next hour," she told me with a firmness that was very cute, "I'm going to drag you to that nurse, Kills. Really, I feel terrible. You did me a huge solid today and I go and injure you."
After swigging at the beer, I decided to try to dispel her guilt, even if I was enjoying her presence and, subsequently, the nurturing side of her. "I did abandon you to the sharks," I said, offering her a smile.
"Yeah, you did." She nudged me with her shoulder, hot skin flush against mine. A ripple careened down my arm and settled in my fingers, tingling with urges I shouldn't be having. Her naked, tattooed thigh was so close to my hand I could stroke my small finger against her flesh if I moved it just a miniscule amount. "I did some research, by the way, to help with this fear of sharks you have."
"Uh huh." I raised a brow at her, coaxing her to roll her eyes. "There are enough movies to tell me that the ocean is a deep, dark, scary place and there isn't much you could say to convince me otherwise, woman."
"A recent study stated that there were only 57 unprovoked shark attacks worldwide this year," she intoned, ignoring me completely. "And nurse sharks aren't known to be aggressive towards humans," she added, her voice a softer note. Almost absently, her hand came up between us, fingers stroking through the damp locks of hair that plastered to the side of my temple closest to her. I turned into her touch, making her freeze as she became aware of the gesture- almost as if she had completed it unconsciously- and our gazes locked. Her fingers twitched. "Sorry," she whispered, and her hand began to drop.
"I like it." The words flew from my lips because I was so damn desperate for her I'd torture myself with anything she could offer me. If that meant she continued to run her bright pink nails through my hair, then I'd take it. "Don't stop."
She held my gaze, her own eyes so wide and huge as they scrutinised every inch of my face, and I figured she may not wish to touch me again. "I mean, if you want to..." I grumbled.
Her smile was a beautiful crescent that grooved her cheeks and lightened her eyes. "I'll stroke your hair, Kills."
Right then, I knew she must be remembering all the times she had raked her nails through my hair in the past- cuddled together on the couch while we binge watched our favourite shows together every evening. And presently the way she ran her fingers through my hair, her nails scraping against my scalp with delicious softness, sent bolts of pleasure up and down my spine. She continued her motions for a few seconds, mussing up my hair, her fingers trailing behind my ears and over the nape of my neck, tangling with the locks of hair that would stiffen soon from the saltiness of the ocean.
"Feeling better?" she asked, her voice light and teasing from close beside me.
"Mmm." I resisted the urge to lie on my side and press my head into her lap. "Keep doing that and I might start purring."
She continued to stroke her fingers through my hair, the monotony of the action adding a new level of drowsiness to my body that was simultaneously soothing and arousing.
"I hope that this is OK," Stella murmured, her voice a gentle coaxing of sound to keep me alert. "This is probably closer than I should be... and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage or anything. I just... I like it."
A soft laugh left me at her admission. "If anything, I'm taking advantage of you presently."
An agreeing chuckle met my ears, but her fingers continued their beautiful torture through my hair. Back and forth, back and forth. "I don't think you are," she mused. "I just... well, I hope that this won't make things uncomfortable between us later on. I really enjoyed today, being with you..."
Up until she almost sent a testicle back inside my body, so had I. Immensely so. The hand that wasn't cradling the cool bottle of a beer crept over her thigh, squeezing her gently just above her knee. "Me too," I admitted. "And let's just leave it at that, Stels. The matter of us shouldn't come into it anymore- that was concluded in South Africa. This is us in a whole new situation, one we're both figuring out."
Her smile was slow and wide, her face a few inches from mine as she leaned back against the sofa. "You're right."
"Aren't I always?"
"Uh... no, Aquaman. You may wanna check your underwear after that shark encounter earlier. Pretty sure there was a brown jet stream in your wake."
"Very funny, but I'm not wearing any underwear."
Her eyes dropped to my crotch again, her smile dimming slightly. Damn, did she have to look so intrigued? Her tongue darted out, catching the corner of her lips and swiping against the plump curve of her bottom lip so enticingly my poor dick gave a pulse of desire despite the dull throb of pain lingering around the area.
Christ, we were two seconds away from exploding through whatever tenuous agreement made us friends and only friends. I had to keep things platonic between us, even if I vehemently disagreed in the physical sense. "Don't you have deadlines to meet today?" I asked her, and thank fuck she stopped staring at the seat of my shorts as if there was something concealed in there she wanted to devour.
"Ah... yeah, I do." She took a long swig from her beer, her fingers pausing their administrations through my hair for just a moment. Then she shrugged with one shoulder and readjusted her position so that she was cross-legged beside me.
Great, now it was me struggling not to cop a look at her. The cut of her swimsuit ran high on her hips, her legs presented curves covered in a tan from so many days now spent in the sun. It was a marvel of gravity alone that the narrow material of the swimsuit concealed all that was important.
"But they can wait a few more hours," she added as she settled back against the plump cushion of the sofa. Thankfully, her words drew my attention away from the marvel of physics her swimsuit was proving to be.
"You don't have to stay here with me."
"I want to." She shrugged and awarded me a goofball grin as she dropped the cold bottle of beer in her lap. "Who else is gonna nurse your injured dick back to full health? Or drag you to that nurse you refuse to see?"
"I'm fine, for the last time."
"I'll be the judge of that. If my calculations are correct, you have about ten minutes more of pain before you've exceeded the recommended amount of time to have ball ache, as recommended by Dr Google."
I thought about telling her that the pain was well on its way to being non-existent- the combined effect of the ice and her conversation distracting enough to ensure I hardly noticed it anymore- but for whatever reason I left the words unsaid.
I was losing my mind.
Because the truth of it was I wanted her to stay and talk with me.
I wanted a whole lot of other things too that I couldn't have- from the woman I would never have- but I couldn't think about those things right then, even if my dick was doing its best to remind me of this fact every damn second.
So I grunted in affirmation instead, taking a long swig of my beer to dispel some of the heated tension swirling through my veins.
The bell to my suite chimed through the room once more and I glanced at Stella questioningly. I hadn't placed a request for room service, so the onus was on her for this interruption.
She gave me a perplexed look in answer and shifted from the sofa we shared, setting her beer on the table before sauntering over to the door.
"Helloooo!" a vaguely familiar, German-accented voice erupted joyfully from the threshold. I craned my neck and caught a glimpse of Lena and Felix, the friendly couple from the snorkelling trip earlier, being ushered into the suite by an equally-friendly Stella, who had no qualms about inviting relative strangers into my suite while I was injured and poorly.
Well, not so much anymore, but still.
I hardly wanted people around right now.
Especially not when just a glimpse of Stella made my cock stand to attention like a damn marine in the presence of his drill sergeant.
"We wanted to check on you," Lena was saying, peering around Stella to throw me a grin. "After seeing what happened today."
"Reception offered us your room number," Felix added.
"Confidentially is prioritised at this place," I mumbled. My words must have been heard by Stella because she threw me an amused look, her lips twitching.
"That's so sweet of you," she told the middle-aged couple. "Would you like to join us for a drink?"
Christ, this woman had no boundaries. I pushed back a groan of dismay and mentally willed Lena and Felix to decline her invitation.
"No, no," Lena gushed, glancing between Stella and myself. "We have to go, uh... sorry, my English is not good."
Felix interjected, assisting his wife- or partner, considering I couldn't tell if they wore wedding bands or not- by saying, "Board paddling. But later we will be at the bar after dinner, if you want to join us for a drink."
"Oh! Paddle boarding!" Stella's smile grew wider. "How exciting!"
"Yes," Lena agreed, and began fishing around in her huge, colourful tote bag slung over her shoulder. "We wanted to bring you something to help."
"Isn't that sweet, Kills?"
"Like sugar." I forced a smile on my lips as I watched the trio interact in my hotel room.
"My husband, Felix, is also, uh... have accident a lot," Lena went on to explain, and I felt my faux-smile drop from my face as I realised what she was getting at.
"Oh, really?" Stella inquired, innocently unaware of the trajectory of the conversation. For a woman so sinfully attractive and sexual, she sure as shit couldn't jump to conclusions very fast about a charged topic.
"Mostly in the bedroom," Felix added, draping an arm around his short wife's shoulders and grinning so widely you'd swear the man won the award for most impressive sexual prowess.
If Lena was embarrassed by her husband's claim, she didn't show it. Instead, she rooted even more deeply within her bag. "We always carry one with us for, uh, emergency."
Having finally located what she was searching for, Lena yanked something from her bag and brandished it triumphantly for everyone present to see.
The only thing I saw, however, was how Stella's eyes widened to epic proportions.