Strolling along Beira-Mar Norte boardwalk toward her hotel, fingers laced through Tristan’s, Izzie gazed out into the setting sun. Up until she came to Florianopolis, she considered LA’s dramatic sunsets to be unbeatable. She was wrong. The huge ball of fire descending into the turquoise swaying waters in front of her had to be the most fascinating sunset she had ever witnessed.

They slowed to a stop and she welcomed the warmth of Tristan’s body as he encircled her in a loose embrace, turning her body to face the horizon, and standing behind her. She leaned back, their bodies fitting like pieces of a puzzle, and rested her head on his chest. She wished they could fit together that perfectly again. Both had built their lives thousands of miles apart, both had family responsibilities they would never shy away from.

As if reading her mind, Tristan whispered, “Life never gets easier, does it?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

The sun hung on the horizon, its upper half reflected in the waves creating a hypnotic optical illusion.

Tristan broke the comfortable silence again. “It’s like the song says, love. We’re not the same, but we can be like one. We’ll find a way.”

Izzie’s heart flipped a couple of cartwheels at the endearment. It took her a moment to process the meaning of his words. She abandoned her contemplation and swirled inside his arms.

“God, I missed this look,” she whispered, locking her fingers behind his neck.

He hooked his fingers on her forearms. “This old thing? I’ve got this shirt for a bargain at the mall.”

“Silly. I mean your eyes. I missed the way they twinkled when you looked at me.”

“I know what you mean. I missed you. Period.”

He dipped his head and she met his mouth halfway. Even though she would have gladly torn at his clothes and jumped his bones right there and then, Izzie was aware they stood in the middle of a busy boardwalk, on a balmy late summer afternoon. She didn’t want to land in jail.

Sighing, she pulled away and held his stare. He smiled. “I’d better get you to that hotel room before I get us arrested.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She giggled, then yelped, when he scooped her up in his arms and jogged across the avenue before the pedestrian crossing light turned red. “You cave man, put me down.”

“Your legs are too short. I’m in a hurry.”

He could be stubborn, so she leaned her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the ride. The hotel marquis popped up a couple of yards ahead of them and she begged, “Put me down. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

His arms tightened around her, and she thought he would argue her point, but he settled her on the floor. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her behind him, “I wouldn’t make it easier for the paparazzi. I’m still in a hurry, though.”

“I hear you.”

Izzie spotted a couple of photographers standing at the far corner of the hotel lobby, close to the restaurant entrance. Tristan’s huff signaled he had seen them too. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait for the elevator. They climbed inside the metal cage and Tristan pushed the penthouse button a couple of times before Izzie swiped the key card to authorize access to that floor.

She stood on her tip-toes kissed and kissed his cheek. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

His expression turned from chagrined to self-mockery. “My memory was so much better before I turned forty.”

“Silly.” She checked him out from head to toe and then back again. “I’m glad to say that might be the only thing going down for you there.”

His eyes rounded, but he recovered quickly from the shock. With one step, he pinned her against the side wall, bracing his arms on either side of her head, his erection poking at her belly. She never felt more alive. She grabbed his bulging upper arms and tipped her head back, straining her neck, to hold his stare. Defiant and provocative, she rolled her hips, rubbing his hard-on. He hissed, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. With a sharp intake of air, he thrust forward and stopped her movement. “Behave, woman. They’ve got cameras in here.”

She whispered, “I know.”

The elevator doors opened, and they scurried out. Tristan stole the key card from her fingers and opened the suite door in record time. Once inside, he pinned her to the door and smashed his mouth over her expecting lips. Izzie pulled herself up, embracing his waist with her legs, crossing her feet on his back, and digging her elbows on his shoulders. He cupped her butt and held her in place as he deepened the kiss. She pulled his hair, hungry for his touch, wanting to mark him as hers. She swirled her tongue around his, digging her nails in his neck as he sucked her lower lip. Her thin panties turned damp against her skin as he rubbed his jeans-clad cock against them, her nipples pierced her bra as they rubbed against his chest.

She reached between their bodies and unbuttoned his jeans, muttering in-between kisses, “Too many clothes.”

“Oh, yeah.”

His out-of-breath agreement was all she needed. She freed his cock and closed her fingers around it, guiding the pulsing flesh to her entrance. It twitched under her touch and a droplet of moisture transferred from its tip to her finger. She raised it to her lips and sucked at it.

Eyes glued to her mouth, Tristan moaned and reached inside his pocket producing a condom wrapper that she swiftly opened and helped him cover his cock. Anticipation and the rush of adrenaline made her lips dry, so she wetted them with her tongue.

Tristan thrust up inside her with one movement, filling her to the brim, and covering her mouth with his. She groaned inside his lips, rocking her hips, tightening her thighs around his waist. He pulled his hip back until her body gripped only the tip of his cock, then nailed her against the door, jamming her sweet spot with his crotch, and making her climax with an explosive orgasm she did not see coming.

“Oh, my fucking God,” she cried out, digging her heels in his butt, quivering around his cock, gasping for air.

Grunting, Tristan swayed his hips back and forth, increasing his speed, as more waves of pleasure broke over Izzie’s skin, making her drip her arousal on his sheathed cock as dark spots clouded her vision. She locked her lips on his, biting the soft flesh of his full lower lip and drinking his groans as his cock unloaded. The warmth of the jets caressed her inside walls even through the thin latex, and she smiled against his cheek as he slowed the pace of his stabbing hips.

When his deflating member abandoned her body, Izzie dropped her legs and stood, still crutching his shoulders for support, limbs too shaky to hold her upright.

Tristan mumbled, “I will not be able to walk straight tomorrow, but I don’t give a damn. This was so worth the limp.”

Lightheaded, but not wanting to let go of the feeling, Izzie suggested, “Quick shower and round two?”

“You mean, a quickie under the shower as round two, or a swift cooling down in separate showers, then a nice and long round two on a soft mattress.”

She paused and gave the options some thought.

“You’re kidding me. Are you actually considering the first scenario? I was joking, woman. I wouldn’t be able to perform just now.”

“If you used your imagination, you might.” She winked.

Tristan chuckled. “I’d rather savor you dry and on a horizontal position, if you don’t mind.”

She shrugged. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“My pleasure.” His time to wink. “Why are you stalling? Get in that shower, come on.” He swatted her ass, which the thin sundress barely covered, and strode toward the guest room.

She heard the running shower, and his singing, before she reached her bathroom.

* * *

Izzie and Tristan spent the evening pleasuring each other, planning the future, and discussing their insecurities. They cheered each other up, made each other come, and praised each other. The only topic they steered clear of was their feelings for each other. Izzie feared she would spook him, if she confessed her love for him. She respected his need to learn to trust her again, so she didn’t want to jump the gun.

As long as she could turn his chest into her favorite pillow every night, she didn’t mind the wait. With that tempting thought and a wicked smile on her lips, she slipped into a satisfied sleep.

During the night, Izzie’s racing heart beats woke her up with a startle. Still dazed from a sensual dream she was having, she bolted upright to find her dream had come true. Tristan snapped his head up from between her thighs, chin and lips glistening with her pleasure, and the image made her heart burst at the seams.

He splayed his large hand on her midriff and shushed her. Then, he whispered, “Let me love you.”

She plopped back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and savored the sensations his teeth and mouth aroused in her. Planting her feet on the mattress, she relaxed and opened herself to him. “That’s my girl,” he muttered inside her, triggering small waves of pleasure. She quivered, and he chuckled, intensifying the pressure his lips applied to her dripping folds. He lapped at her juices and pulled her clit inside his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she screamed. Her body gripped his mouth as she came fast and hard.

She pulled his hair, lifting his face from between her thighs, and demanded, “You. Inside me. Now.”

Tristan nodded, and crawled over her, reaching his hand toward the nightstand. “Let me suit up.”

“Why?”

She shocked him into silence. His hand froze in midair, he blinked, and stared down at her.

Izzie added, “I mean, you’ve been tested every which way and have gotten a clean bill of health. I haven’t had sex in years, but I get tested regularly as a recovering drug addict. I promise I’m clean.” She waited for his remarks. He blinked some more. She grinned, filling her mind with wicked thoughts, so he would read them in her eyes. She moaned, “I want to feel your bare skin on mine.”

A deep crease formed between Tristan’s eyebrows as he briefly closed his eyes. When he reopened them, Izzie wanted to drown in the sea of passion she spied in his dark blue gaze in the split second before he swooped down and clamped his lips on hers. She tasted her pleasure as she sucked his tongue. The moist tip of his cock nudged her folds when Tristan nestled his hips between her thighs. She welcomed him inside her, giddy with the sensation of their slick flesh rubbing against each other.

Tristan buried his face in the crook of her neck, nudging her ear with his nose, inhaling her scent.

Hot.

She melted under his touch.

Gasping for air and moaning, she raked her fingers on his broad back as he thrust in and out of her. Her hips chased his, her thighs pressed his body. She arched her back when her sex squeezed him tight. She bit her lower lip, grunting.

“Give it to me, gorgeous. Don’t hold back.”

Staring into his eyes, heart clawing up her throat, Izzie didn’t think she had any energy left in her.

“Not holding. Too weak,” she mumbled.

Tristan’s cock nudged her womb as he plunged his hips into hers, her sex gripped him, and his fingers tweaked her nipple. Feeling faint, her chest constricted by the overwhelming explosion of sensations, Izzie dug her nails into his shoulders and wailed a string of incoherent words.

Except for one.

“Tristan!” she repeated that single word as if it were a mantra, the sexiest mantra imaginable, until her voice got hoarse.

Her soul soared when his hot jets warmed her insides, his moans filled her ears, and his wet lips covered her nipple. He sucked at the hard nub just as his stabbing cock slowed down and the waves of pleasure ebbed in her lower body.

“God. I can’t. It’s too much.”

The wicked man chuckled, his mouth full of her breast, his stare trapping hers. Her relaxed muscles made her move in slow motion, but she speared her fingers through his hair, smiled her satisfaction, then dropped her head on the pillows.

Caught in the twilight between consciousness and unconsciousness, Izzie whispered, I love you, not sure if the words ever made out of her mouth.