The Two Week Stand (Sizzling Beach 1)

“Ugh. Are you going to call me that the whole time I’m here?”

“Probably.” He grins.

“Fine. Then, I’ll call you … Compass. No, Westy!” I have a flash of memory of calling him that last night and him hating it.

He stares at me a moment, weighing this up. Then, he shrugs and sips his beer. “Fine.”

Ugh. Whatever.

“So, snorkeling …” I go back to his question. “Well, before Sharkgate, it was actually okay. I had no clue just how pretty the ocean was.”

“There are some stunning reefs here.”

“Where else have you snorkeled?” I ask him.

“Hawaii, Fiji, Thailand … but it was mostly scuba diving then.”

“So, just a few places then.”

“I’m fairly well traveled.” He leans back in his chair and rests his right foot on his left knee.

He looks so relaxed and at ease with who he is. Although, if I looked like him, I probably would as well.

Picking up my beer, I take a sip of the ice-cold liquid, enjoying the feel of it going down, cooling my overheated body.

It’s so bloody hot here.

I press the base of the bottle to my chest to try and cool me down. When I look up, West is watching me … well, the bottle really and where it is, and his pupils are super dilated.

I freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. I don’t want him to stop looking at me. I know it’s vain, but I don’t care.

But I also can’t sit here with this bottle on my chest for much longer without looking weird.

And I really don’t want to look weird.

Decision made, I lift the bottle back up to my lips and take another drink. When I look back at West, he’s still watching me, but his eyes are on my face now.

“Look … Dillon, I’m a straightforward guy, so I’m just gonna say what I wanted to say to you last night but couldn’t because you were trashed.”

“Okay …” My heart starts to thrum in my chest. I lift my bottle to my lips and take another sip of beer.

“I think you’re hot,” he continues. “And I want to fuck you.”

I choke on my beer. Actually coughing, spluttering choke on my beer.

For Christ’s sake.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fine.” I bang my fist on my chest. Cough. “I’m fine.” Another cough.

“You want some water?”

“I’m fine.” Cough. “Really fine.” I clear my throat and take a small sip of beer.

It doesn’t help, obviously.

But I keep hold of the bottle for the need to do something with my hands. “So …” I say.

“So”—his lips lift at the corner—“I figure I shocked you.”

“Shocked me? No! Not at all!” I glance down at the table before looking back up at him. “Actually, yeah, you really did. I’ve never had a man say that to me before.”

“Then, you haven’t been around the right type of men.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

He laughs, and I really like the sound. It makes my chest light up in the best kind of way.

“I like you, Dillon. You’re funny and quirky, almost as honest as me, and you are seriously sexy as fuck.”

He thinks I’m sexy. Holy crapping hell!

“And I would really like to have sex with you, but I also know that you recently went through some shit with your ex …”

And my moment of happiness over hot West calling me sexy plummets to the sand at my feet. “Did I, um … tell you last night? When I was drunk?”

“Yeah.”

“What exactly did I tell you?”

“That your asshole fiancé was sleeping with your mom.”

“Oh my God,” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “I can’t believe I told you. I am so embarrassed.”

He reaches over the table and tugs my hands from my face. “You’ve no reason to be embarrassed. About the snorkeling? Definitely. That was pretty bad. And Sharkgate? Totally embarrassing.” He laughs softly. “But what they did to you … betraying you like that? Especially your mom. Dillon, you have nothing to feel embarrassed about. It’s them who should be feeling shame.”

His words should make me feel better, but they don’t. Knowing my mum, she’s probably convinced herself that her cheating with Tim was somehow my fault. That’s how a true narcissist works.

And me, well, I really shouldn’t be allowed to drink or be around people ever because I can’t keep my stupid, big mouth shut.

“Look, I know this would be classed as bad timing,” West continues, “with what you recently went through, but we’re only here for two weeks, and then we’ll both go home to our sides of the world and never see each other again. I’m attracted to you, and you’re attracted to me. The sexual chemistry is there between us already, so imagine what it’d be like if we actually hooked up.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw is on the floor. No man has ever spoken so openly and directly to me about sex before.