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I let go of him and put my hand on his chest, over his heart. “More than one night,” I said. “If that’s all right.”
His face did something complicated and then lit up like a Christmas tree. “More. Yes. Absolutely more.”
So we took it slowly. He took off the last of my clothes like he was unwrapping something he planned to keep. I undressed him. We lay on our sides, facing one another, and I put him inside me with my leg over his hip, his hand cupped round my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. It was unhurried and glorious. Every roll of his hips pressed him deep and found a place inside me that made me gasp. I came softly, then again, my forehead on his, whispering his name. He held on until I begged him to let go, and then he shook and came inside the condom with a groan that sounded almost like a laugh.
We slept tangled. At dawn he left for his shift and kissed me goodbye with proper, wonderful, daylight tenderness.
The rest of the week was a blur of beach and bed. He took me to the market in Playa. I met his sister. He taught me to curse in Spanish. At the airport he said, “You come back at Christmas, I’ll have the bar quiet.”
I rebooked my flight on the plane home.
And I’m already deciding what to wear.
Ending 2 of 16: Something More. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.