Take Me To Paradise

CHAPTERELEVEN

I didn’t wantto open up a sad can of worms. I shouldn’t have ever brought it up. We weren’t supposed to be anything but a tawdry fling. Somehow, though, in opening up my body to these new experiences and feelings—giving these two men all of my physical vulnerabilities—I caught feelings.

My friend Margaux, the only one who knew what I was truly doing this whole week, had been concerned that would happen to me. I’d assured her wholeheartedly I was here just to give my needy kitty some well-deserved tending to. That I would not, under any circumstances, fall for anyone.

But Fraser and Leo both lived in Chicago with me. It would be effortless to continue with what we had. Sure, it might be a struggle. Once we got back into the rhythm of our lives, getting together would look different. We’d have to navigate stolen moments penciled into busy appointment calendars. It could work, though.

“So, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow?” I asked when we arrived at our rooms.

Fraser raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing else. It hurt. It shouldn’t. I walked into this with eyes wide open. But I thought Fraser felt the same feelings. That we all experienced the same transcendence. The weird connection that began the moment I kissed Leo on the plane. As if fate chose us. Clearly, I’d been wrong.

“Okay, Queenie.” Fraser pulled me against his mouth and kissed me like a lover—not just someone he spent the week fucking. “Be sure to take a hot soak for a little while before you go to bed. Your perfect wrinkled hole is going to be really sore.”

I had to leave them before I cried. But Leo held be the shoulders, intensely studying my face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the question too complex to pick apart when I felt seconds away from falling apart.

“Of course. Just tired. I want to get a full night of rest. I can’t wait for snorkeling tomorrow.”

I tried to pull away, but Leo crushed his lips against mine. He explored the inside of my mouth with his tongue as if he tasted my lie and tried to find the source of that bitter taste. I wanted to kiss him back with every emotion I felt. To crack open my heart and show him that despite us being just a vacation fling that I wanted it all and more of it for as long as the flame burned bright.

I had to force myself away from them. To physically distance myself. I needed a minute to think. Away from the two of them and their temptation. The pair were an addiction I didn’t want to kick. In fact, I wanted to bathe in it. Surround myself with it. Drown in it. And that was why I needed to step back for a night. To find the places where I could detach cleanly after allowing them to insinuate themselves too far into me.

The door beeped and clicked, and I let myself in. The pair still standing at the intersection of our rooms, watching me close the door.

* * *

An hour in the bath. Another on my deck staring out across the ocean, and yet another in bed fruitlessly trying to fall asleep. I wasn’t any closer to making what we had any less painful. It was stupid of me. I’m a serial monogamist. I fall hard and fast. The sting of boyfriends I had up to that point, proof of that. I hold on so tight that life flies past me and I’m cruising along thinking I’m blissfully happy existing in the relationship I’m in until the person I’m with snaps their fingers in front of me and tells me I’m wrong. They don’t feel the same way and they want to leave. Here I was again. I wanted to progress, and Fraser wanted to hit the brakes and reverse. And would Leo and I be able to have that same transcendent feeling without Fraser acting as our glue?