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BOARD SHORTS OFF, WALLS DOWN

T he Next Day

It’s officially been two weeks since I got my tattoo, and today is the day I’ve been waiting for—I can finally dive into the ocean. I’ve walked along the shore countless times, watching people splash in the turquoise waves, wishing I could join them. And now, I can. But what makes it even better is that this first swim will be with Timmy, my surfer boy.

The water sparkles under the sun, and as soon as it washes over my skin, it feels like pure heaven. Timmy is right beside me, grinning as I wrap my arms around his neck. The waves lift and cradle us, and he floats me around with ease, his body warm and solid under the water.

We kiss, laugh, and nuzzle each other as if we’re the only two people in the world. It’s impossible not to get lost in the love bubble surrounding us. Floating on our backs, we hold hands and let the ocean rock us gently. The sky stretches endlessly above, and the water below is as clear as glass. I’ve never felt so light, so free, or so perfectly content.

“Lift your lower back,” Timmy murmurs, his hand grazing my waist. “Stick your chest out a bit more. ”

With a few tweaks, I feel myself relax even deeper, floating effortlessly.

“Once, I floated so long I fell asleep, and I was quite far out in the ocean,” Timmy says, his grin mischievous. “Some guy thought I was dead and ran into the water to save me. I woke up with him carrying me to shore like I was a giant damsel in distress. He was even trying to do CPR.” He pauses for effect, then adds, “It felt like Jason Momoa was rescuing me from the ocean.”

I burst out laughing at the ridiculous image. He’s always in the center of each outrageous story, usually involving him as the star of some absurd or mischievous adventure.

“I can’t wait to take you surfing,” he says, his voice full of promise as we watch surfers catch waves in the distance. “We’ll have you riding the Juggernaut in no time.”

I laugh again, knowing the Juggernaut is the stuff of legends—one of the island’s most notorious surf spots. In winter, the waves swell into monsters for world-class competitions.

He grins, all charm and confidence. “For real, I have it all planned out, how I’m going to teach you. We’ll go out together on one board at first. I’ll float while you catch the wave. Then you’ll paddle back out and get me, and we’ll set you up for the next one.”

I beam at him, my excitement growing. “I can’t wait! Thank you so much!”

When we eventually wade back to shore, a woman sitting in the sand waves us over, her phone in hand. “This might sound strange,” she says with a sheepish smile, “but I filmed you two in the water. Can I AirDrop you the videos?”

Timmy and I exchange glances, slightly bewildered, but we shrug.

“Sure,” I say.

Within moments, my phone pings, and I receive several videos and a few candid photos of us laughing and swimming. One video captures me with my arms wrapped around Timmy’s neck, both of us laughing so hard we’re doubled over in the water.

It’s strange that she recorded us, but it’s also kind of nice. Seeing us from someone else’s perspective—a happy couple lost in our own little world—feels surreal. On camera, we look like two people completely in sync, perfectly content to just be with each other. Like a scene from a romance movie, or two loved-up celebrities being snapped by paparazzi.

“This is kind of sweet,” I admit, showing Timmy the videos.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pulling me closer. “That’s us. We look so good.”

After rinsing off at the beach showers, Timmy fusses over me like always. “You missed your heel,” he says, gesturing at my sand-covered foot. I roll my eyes playfully, but secretly, I love how attentive he is.

As we dry off, we hear the faint strum of live music from a nearby restaurant.

“Come,” Timmy says, tugging my hand with that mischievous grin I can never resist. “It’s some of the best music on the island.”

We slip into the restaurant’s outdoor area unnoticed, the soft hum of native songs filling the air. Timmy leads me to a sun lounger and places me there with a playful flourish. “Sit here.”

He disappears for a moment, returning with a freshly plucked plumeria blossom. He tucks it behind my ear, just like he did the first time we met, his gaze warm and adoring. “So beautiful.”

“But don’t we need to be guests to sit here?” I whisper, glancing around nervously.

“Nah,” Timmy says with a carefree grin. “Don’t worry about it.”

We sit, listening to the music, lost in the moment—until a man in a resort uniform approaches, apologetically asking us to move.

Timmy doesn’t miss a beat. “No worries,” he says, taking my hand. “Let’s find somewhere else.”

And just like that, we’re off again, hand in hand, drifting through the night like leaves on a stream.

The next day, I have my final work call, just to wrap things up. I’ve been dreading it—my boss is always condescending, and I know she’ll try to guilt-trip me. Sure enough, she delivers her usual spiel: “You made the choice to move to Sunset Cay. Nobody forced you, and now you have to deal with the consequences.”

Her words grate on me, but I bite my tongue, knowing she’s just scared because she knows I’m more competent and better liked than she’ll ever be. When she asks if I have feedback for her, I offer a sweet smile and say, “No, nothing I haven’t already shared.”

The second I hang up, I let out a loud sigh. “Thank fucking god that’s over.”

Timmy, sprawled across the bed, props himself up on one elbow, his grin turning wicked. “You never have to worry about those assholes again. You’ve got me now.”

His voice drops into a growl. “Speaking of which… after I’m done with you, let’s go visit Sabre again.” He yanks off his board shorts, his cock springing free, hard and ready.

I gasp, already aching for him. I take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans with pleasure. His hands tangle in my hair, and my core throbs in anticipation.

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me up and spinning me around. He peels down my pants, positioning me so my pussy rubs against him, teasing us both. Then, with a smooth thrust, he slides inside me, stretching me open with that perfect pressure.

I cry out, clutching the edge of the bed as he slams into me, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through my body. “Fuck, Timmy! Don’t stop!”

The view from the window spreads out before us—the ocean, the mountains, the city lights. It feels like we’re on top of the world, this place ours to conquer together.

“God, Margaux,” he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. “You have the most amazing pussy.”

His body tenses as he shudders, filling me with warmth. We collapse together, breathless and sated.

Afterward, we slip into the shower, the water cascading over us as Timmy gently soaps me with his soft lilac shower pouf. His tender touch makes my heart swell with affection .

When we step out, he towels me off and kisses the top of my head. “Now let’s go see our fuzzy boy.”

I look at him, feeling a rush of gratitude and joy. Timmy might be a little wild, a little chaotic, but he’s mine. And in this moment, I know I’ve found the perfect man for me.