Saved By A Billionaire Brit (2 page)

"Almost." It was not what I intended to say, but it was the truth. "Maybe, but it has never happened before."

He grasped my other breast and squeezed it gently several times, making the nipple pop. Each time he squeezed a bit harder, and by that time, I was whining under my breath. I wondered if anybody would hear me. He leaned over a little more and pulled the breast to his wet lips. He nuzzled the nipple, the way a young animal would press against a teat to bring down milk. He was quicker this time, working to pull my big nipple into his mouth with a hard suck.

I responded immediately. The tip hardened like a pencil eraser so he could draw the entire areola into his mouth. He let go several times and then returned to sucking and pushing firmly with each motion. A ball of fire grew between my legs and threatened to burst into flame. It was ultimate pain and pleasure at the same time. I had quit wondering about consequences completely. I was far beyond that, completely exposed and shameless at last.

He still held my swollen breast in one hand, and his other hand moved up my leg until his fingers rubbed me through the bikini. Waves of desire and excitement swept through my body. I couldn't keep still, so I wiggled my hips from side to side. The motion helped him slip his fingers into the crotch of the suit. He found me wet and aching. I felt like a candle wick burning at both ends. The rhythm of his mouth sucking at my breast sent me floating on waves like the ocean. His fingers were sliding over and into me. Perfect. Never stop. If I were capable of any conscious thought, it would be to freeze the moment...

I came so hard that I shouted out loud, right there, on the beach. Sharon sat up blinking and stared at me.

"Are you ok?"

I was instantly awake again and quite embarrassed. Immediately I looked down to see if my breasts were exposed to everyone on the beach, but my gauzy shirt was perfectly in place. It was thin enough to see my nipples, hard as gemstones. I wondered if I had fallen asleep long enough for my legs to sunburn, but the breeze had lessened and my winged pareu had settled back across my legs. My hand was tellingly on my crotch. Still unconvinced, I looked around for the two men who had walked up behind me. Were they real? Far out in the waves stood a pair of men, possibly a blond and a brunette.

I heard a noise to my left and turned to see the elderly couple. The man's chaise was in the sun, and he had to move it. Apparently that necessitated bending over to push it back into the shade. He didn't seem to be aware of anyone on the beach. Probably, he didn't care. He wasn't far away, and he gave new meaning to the word nude. As he bent at the waist, I got an unexpected view of his long scrotum and a tuft of hair between his butt cheeks. It was a view I had never seen before, and hoped never to see again. When people talked about nude sunbathing, this was not what I pictured. Apparently, reality was a long way from fantasy. I quickly turned my head in self-defense, but the scene was burned into my memory. So much for watching naked Greek gods wander by. If there had been any, I missed them while taking a nap.

I tried to relax and regain my composure by staring out at the shoreline. It worked momentarily, but then a Greek couple flopped down on the chairs immediately to my right. I should probably say chair. The girl lay down, and the boy climbed on top of her like a stallion. They remained fully clothed, but he began to kiss and consume her while she writhed beneath him. Sharon and I watched with interest for awhile until we both realized that it was rude to stare. I tried to focus on the water, but I kept looking up to see if they were still going at it. Apparently they had boundless energy because they never stopped. Then I forgot and let my gaze drift to the left because it seemed doubtful that the exhibitionist would need to move his chaise again. Wrong.

Once again I was greeted with the most intimate view of boney male ass I could imagine. I wanted to shout at him, but I didn't. I would like to say that I spent the rest of the afternoon lying blissfully in the Grecian sun, but that wasn't the last time I got the full effect of my naked beach neighbor. Did he really need to adjust the chaise constantly?

Between the lovers on one side and the nudists on the other, I was forced to gaze straight ahead like a horse wearing blinkers. It gave me a slight cramp in my neck. I wanted to ask Sharon about her new job, but she had buried her head in a book about the Athens Museum. The breeze had blown her light, brown hair into an unflattering birdnest. She was a very pretty woman, but I thought she needed some sunstreaks in her short hair. I looked for the swimming men again and discovered they had vanished. The afternoon had disappeared as well, and it was time to return to the hotel. I had beach inertia as we packed and headed back to the jeep.

––––––––

E
venings at the hotel in Improvigli were an event. The poolside bartender always arrived around four pm to get ready. It bordered on crime to miss the sunset over the caldera. Every afternoon Sharon and I hurried back so we could join in the ritual. The view was unmatched, and it always created a small celebration on the hotel terrace. If the water in the infinity pool hadn't been so cold, I would have watched from the pool with drink in hand. The seaside air on the terrace was mellow, so I settled for a poolside table. A small group of hotel guests gathered around the pool. I was talking to an L.A. publicist/celebrity assistant who had just arrived from Turkey. (I would reveal the real name of the celebrity, but she might object.)

"You remind me of my boss," the publicist said. I wasn't sure what she meant, since her employer had red hair and mine was black. Then I heard a familiar British accent behind me...

"I think I saw you on the beach this afternoon, though I believe you were asleep when I walked by." He was staring directly at my chest. It seemed the nude statue from the beach was real and staying at my hotel.

I started to reach up and button my shirt. After my failure to strip at the beach, I decided to go part way when I got back to the hotel. I prepared for evening cocktails by going braless under my red shirt. It never occurred to me I would be viewed with such interest. Or did it? No wonder he stared. I had buttoned only a few buttons at the bottom of my shirt, and most of my breast was hanging out. My nipples were covered by a flap of silk, but the rest was out there for all to see.

My state of dress might seem odd to some, but that morning during breakfast, I had seen a totally nude woman wandering around outside the villa just below my terrace. She was apparently having breakfast too because she was holding a bunch of grapes. I thought I was hallucinating a Greek nymphet, but that was not the case. Various states of undress were not only tolerated throughout the hotel, but almost encouraged.

I suddenly realized there were several benefits to baring my breasts. It was certainly an exciting experience, and it had attracted a very exotic male.

"It was beautiful out there on the beach today," I answered. (Well, some of it.)

"It certainly was," he smiled. "My name is Robert Smythe."

The glow of the sunset filled the pool terrace. Remembering my afternoon dream made me turn a color to match my shirt. It was almost as if he could read my mind. I was vaguely aware I had seen his naked ass as he strolled by. That was a butt I could admire. At least some of the afternoon had been real. His dream presence must have invaded my sleep just after I glimpsed him. The black hair was dry now and still combed back from his forehead. He was wearing an expensive white, cotton shirt with short sleeves. I was immediately drawn to his relaxed manner and friendly demeanor. For a man so handsome, it was unusual that he seemed totally without conceit.

I wanted to blurt out that I was engaged to be married, but he was smiling at my partially bare chest, and it seemed a bit premature. An awkward silence followed. I had never met anyone who was totally nude before introductions.

"Nice to see you again. My name is Alexandra Jordan, but everyone calls me 'Alexa.'"

The sunset continued in the same slightly scandalous manner. Robert's friend, John, found Sharon at the bar, and Robert told me about his job as the director of a charity in London.

"I was actually born in Kenya, so the charity is focused on food and medical services for Africa. What sort of work do you do?"

"Until recently I was the editor of a literary journal at a Texas college. We also published some university news. A few months ago I quit my job and moved to New York to look for work in national publishing." I stopped speaking abruptly. I needed to say that I met someone and got engaged instead of pursuing my career, but something about his deep blue eyes made me hesitate.

The raw truth was I had come to Santorini to choose a honeymoon spot and explore the island as the setting for my novel. Rex, my fiance, was busy wheeling and dealing for a New York investment company and couldn't get away. I felt incredibly fortunate because Rex was endlessly generous. He promised to pay for my entire trip to the Greek Islands. When I was reluctant to go alone, he offered to pay Sharon's expenses, if she wanted to come with me. This was all the more amazing because she had just left Rex's employment to pursue a new job.

"I'm trying to be a novelist," I confessed to Robert. "I thought Santorini would be the perfect setting for a novel about early Minoan culture. I’m doing research here, on Delos, and hope to visit Crete as well." It was a half lie. Or rather a lie of omission. I didn't mention the honeymoon search. Robert's smile made me feel like the most desirable woman on earth, and I didn't want it to end.

“How romantic,” he said, and I felt the ice melting in my drink. I noticed Sharon staring at us from the bar. John was standing even closer to her. I hoped my dream lover would think my blush was a sunburn.

“And you, what brings you to the island?” I asked.

“Towering cliffs, Aegean Sea, hotels clinging to the side of a volcano. The lure of ancient Greek art is irresistible. I’m just on holiday, and like most Brits, seeking a warmer climate for a few days. There is hardly any rain here on Santorini, the opposite of England.”

I wondered what holiday it was in Great Britain, not realizing that "holiday" was the word for vacation in the U.K. My heart was fluttering, and I tried to calm myself. It was just a harmless flirtation. Why did I feel so guilty? His mouth on my nipple seemed so real earlier that afternoon, even if it was only a beach dream. Could he actually read my thoughts? Perhaps I could read his mind as well. He was trying hard not to lust over my bare flesh, but was failing miserably. I knew it was impossible, but I wanted Robert to rip off my shirt and ravish me. I had to leave before I did something I would regret forever.

“I need to order supper before it gets too late.” The daily sunset party was over. I stood and motioned to Sharon and then spoke to Robert, “You do know that you can order food to be served on your terrace, don’t you? I don’t know how long you have been here, but you need to eat right after sundown because the terrace gets very chilly at night. The hotel provides blankets for the outdoors after dark, but as the evening wears on...” Then for no reason, I pointed to my suite, four apartments from the pool. "I'm just over there, the large terrace at the end. I have to go in early tonight because I have a morning cruise to Delos."

Sharon had wandered over and was now smirking over my shoulder. She still had the same naughty grin as we walked toward the terrace gate. I heard footsteps behind me.

"Wait up a bit, please," Robert called after me.

When I turned around I was looking directly into that easy smile.

"Yes?"

"After Delos, are you taking the ferry back to the mainland?"

"No, it is just a day trip. It returns to the Santorini dock tomorrow evening. As you may know, no one is allowed to spend the night on Delos, being the birthplace of Apollo and all." It was impossible to look at him and not smile back like a starstruck idiot. There was something very special about him. Finally guilt overtook me. I gave Sharon a look that made her walk ahead of me to the apartment.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you. I'm not wearing my ring because I didn't want to take it to the beach. I'm actually engaged to be married, and the other reason I'm here is to find the perfect spot for a honeymoon."

"I'm not sure what to say in reply to that - except that I'm sorry to have been so forward. It was just that I fancied you, and I wasn't aware it would be inappropriate."

"I'm the one who needs to be forgiven," I replied, trying again to button my shirt without anyone noticing, an impossible task. I wondered why he was apologizing for liking me. I didn't know Brits apologized for everything. It is almost a greeting in England. "I shouldn't have been flirting with you."

He laughed out loud at this. "Goodnight, then. All is forgiven." He walked away, but I still felt as if he had made love to me on the beach.

Enormous relief swept over me. So this was temptation. Was it possible to be engaged and still desire other men? I felt regret and strength at the same time. At least he was gone and would tempt me no more. Inside the hotel suite I sat down on the couch and knew I didn't want to give up the life I was building with Rex. It was a glamorous life. When I got back to New York, we would finalize the wedding plans. As soon as the trip was over, we would start hunting for an apartment near Central Park. I had already decided on Santorini for the honeymoon. There was nowhere more awe inspiring, perching on the side of a towering cliff.

Rex had never been to such a place, and I wanted to share the spectacle with him. Tomorrow I would make the hotel reservations in person to make sure nothing would go wrong. Now that I had made a decision, I could spend the rest of the trip researching my novel. Hopefully there would be time to complete the research during the honeymoon. I hoped that Rex wouldn't get irritated about my work while I was on the island. How often does one get to work in paradise? It wasn't exactly an easy flight from New York. Perhaps I could stay on awhile when Rex went back. A third trip would be hard to arrange, and I really wanted to avoid that.