Chapter 7

Yvette's POV

I slipped away from my friends as soon as I got the chance to, and right now I'm somewhere less noisy, somewhere closer to the shores, where I can listen to the sound of waves lapping and crashing against stones. It's not like I hate parties, or other people's company. It's just that this is one of those times where I'd rather sit in silence and read my one of favorite ebooks. No one will notice I'm gone anyway. They'll be too busy soaking up attention from men to care.

This part of the beach is not as quiet as I imagined though. It's quite faraway from the main party venue, which means it's not illuminated by any tiki torches, only by the light of a full moon. Which also means some partygoers have chosen this place to be the site of intense make out sessions.

The night air still carries strains of the traditional beach music as I pick my way in search of a comfortable place to sit, wincing as I hear moans and smooch sounds coming from a particular shadowed corner. "Elvis! Yes! Don't stop!" A female voice pants raggedly. She's probably on all fours, bikini panties tangled at her knees as "Elvis" slams her from behind. I'm already aroused thinking about it. Gosh, I chide myself. Stop these dirty thoughts if there won't be anyone willing to fuck you. It doesn't help that I've had only one boyfriend in my entire life, even as I turned thirty last month. Random hookups too were as rare to me as gold dusts, since I spend most of my free time on my couch closest to the window, either binge watching N*****x or shopping for books on A****n. I've learned not to bother with any of that. Afterall, most men want the sexy, daring, seductive kind. The baddies. The kind of women most book heroes end up with. Not the girl with the cutesy, girl-next-door vibe with coffee stains down the front of her baggy tees, or the woman whose everyday attire consists of collars and hair ruthlessly scraped away from her face in a bun, courtesy of my job. And it's kind of exhausting assuming the 'hot girl' role in clubs just for male attention.

"Hey you." A hand catches my wrist. I must have been so lost in my own head I did not even hear him approach. "Why are you coming this way by this time of the night? It's incredibly lonely out here."

I look around me immediately those words left his mouth. It is indeed lonely. Devoid of all living creatures except for restless crickets that supply a terrible cacophony capable of making my bathroom off key singing sound like heavenly music. Did I wander this far without realizing it?

"Umm… I'm just seeking some alone time."

"Really?" Comes the rich baritone of his voice. Not too growly, but deep enough to stir something up inside me. But he sounds amused, like my alone time is some fancy concept I made up to stay away from others in favor of lonely places like this. Like he's being entertained by a delusional sixth grader. And it irks me a whole lot.

"Yes. Really. I was just going to find somewhere quiet to read. Now if you'd excuse me…" I try to pull away, but his hand fasten around my wrist in a tighter, vise-like grip. He snakes his second arm around my waist and hauls me hard against himself. He smells like some musky, expensive aftershave, and the scent is on the heady side. Exciting. Spicy. Crap. Is this what I should be thinking about at this moment? How good this stranger smells?

"Quite valiant, aren't you, traipsing around alone at the darkest parts of this beach," He murmurs into my ear. I should be afraid, but instead my skin is firing up with need. "Unaware of the lurking predators waiting to pounce on preys like you." I feel the cool touch of his fingers under my halter neck backless romper, just above my ass. My heart thrashes around in my ribcage, suddenly overcome with a new fear. Am I about to get assaulted?

"Let me go!" I screech, twisting around, trying to break free, clawing at his face. My elbow catches on his lower lip. I hear him swear, but I'm too focused on my escape to care. The stranger trips me with his legs, and I fall bum first on the sand, my phone flying away from my hands. He flings himself on top of me and holds me down with his entire body, pinning both of my arms above my head with a single, large hand. Panic washes over me. I've had some men attempt to manhandle me before, but none of them have ever come this close to actually force themselves on me. He slides a hand up my bare laps, stops a few inches under the hem of my cloth and lowers his lips to mine. This is it. He's going to have his way with me. And no one would ever know…

"And this is what happens to women who think they are brave enough to roam lonely places on their own," He says, his mouth hovering above mine. "You actually can't fight off a predator with your bare hands and a phone." He launched himself off me to his feet, holding a hand out to me. I grab the offered hand, and he pulls me to my feet. "I'm really sorry if I scared you. My name's Jeremy. What's your own name?"

"Yvette," I reply, glancing around for my phone.

"Here," Jeremy hands me my device, and the flower crown I did not even remember was on my head. "I believe this is yours?"

"Yes, thank you." I drag my fingers down my hair to get rid of the sand.

"You should have gone back to your room, Yvette, not here. Palm Paradise might seem peaceful, but people actually get raped here."

"And you decided to give me an exclusive lesson on how assaults happen. Thanks a lot."

"Whoa, are you mad at me? I'm really sorry. I haven't tried this on another person before…"

"For a while back there, I thought you were actually going to assault me," I cut in.

"Hell no. I don't force myself on women. It's usually the other way round," he grins, locking his fingers over the back of his neck. His biceps flexs at the action, uncovered to full view since he's wearing a sleeveless tank top. I scoff.

"I don't mean it as a compliment, but you were really good at acting like a horny prick."

"Ouch," Jeremy scrunches up his face like I physically hit him.

"Try joining Hollywood, will you? I'm sure they'll have use for that talent of yours."

"Considered it, but no thanks." His eyes twinkle under the moonlight. It is bright enough for me to tell he is infact, very good looking. Not an exaggerated sort, but definitely attractive. He lightly takes my elbow and pulls me back towards the party arena. This is the part where I thank him, I guess…

"Thank you. A lot of other men would have seized the opportunity to screw the free ass." It tugs at me to think about how considerate he was just a while ago. How kind. Though in a very unconventional way. You don't see many kind men these days, especially those who are kind to strange women.

He laughs. The timbre of his voice is like music to my ears. "You just had to put it that way."

"It's of no use whitewashing it. What where you doing there by the way?"

He sniffs. "You wouldn't believe this, but some chick bailed on me at the last minute."

"Aha," I scoff.

"I'm being serious though. What book were you going to read once you get your 'alone time'?" He air quotes 'alone time', earning a sidelong glare from me.

"You think that's a joke?"

"No, no, no. Not at all, Yvette. So? Which book is it?"

I look up at him, at his easy smile. It took great fortitude not to swoon. "Do you read?"

"Except for some Shakespearean poetry my English teacher shoved down my throat in high school, no. But who knows, I might use some book… recommendations."

"Then there'd be no need mentioning this one to you." We were drawing closer to the party now, and the luau music is getting even louder. Awash in the tiki lights, Jeremy's eyes glow a fiery brown. He leans so close I can see the freckles on the bridge of his nose.

"Don't be shy. I won't judge if it's some dirty Mills and Boon romance chicklit."

"What…?" I find my face heat up in embarrassment. But the thing is, he would have hit the mark if he met me on the plane yesterday with a copy of Crash. Except it isn't a Mills and Boon romance chicklit.

"Bingo."

"No, you ass."

He cackles, while I bite down on my bottom lip, fighting hard not to laugh.

"You know, you're really cute. Especially when you blush. I mean it as a compliment."

Oh. It's like a ball of warmth exploded in my belly, filling my entire insides with a giddy sensation. It would not have meant anything if some other random fellow said it, of course. It's from Jeremy. The guy I'm beginning to get attracted to. Could this mean he feels the same way about me?

Another lazy Jeremy smile spread across his face as his hand came up to my hair, shivers that have nothing to do with the sea breeze shooting down my spine. "Just some bits of sand," he explains. Right now I don't want his hand in my hair if he's not going to tilt my head back and kiss me. I want those hands elsewhere. On my laps, stroking. On my ass, squeezing. If he pins me to the ground again, I won't fight back. Because I'd rather be under him at this moment than anywhere else.