Love on the High Seas. Yasmin Sullivan Y.

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СКАЧАТЬ low voice in her ear sent goose bumps down her neck and heated her center.

      “I was...silly.”

      “You were beautiful,” he said.

      She was quiet. Jeremy’s words put her a bit at ease, but the image in her mind of last night mortified her.

      He seemed unfazed. “I would love to do that again—and more. But we can go at your pace.”

      She heard sincerity in his voice and decided to believe him.

      “So, what now?” she asked.

      “I’m thinking breakfast. Then maybe some swimming at Magen’s Bay.”

      She smiled, but could she face him? Before her mind had decided, she heard herself saying yes.

      “I’ll put on my swimsuit and grab a towel. Where should we meet?”

      “I’ll be there by the time you pack your bag.”

      “Okay.”

      When she stepped into the hall, he was just turning the corner, a bag over his arm, a smile on his face and a long-stemmed rose in his hand. But she still had to actually face him after last night. She swallowed, not knowing what to expect, but he simply kissed her cheek, wrapped her in a brief hug and took her tote bag.

      She could tell that she must be blushing, but he didn’t seem to notice. She was only able to release the tension in her shoulders once they were out among people, back to getting to know one another. After breakfast they caught a safari to Magen’s Bay.

      The countryside was beautiful, and nearing the beach, trees arched down over the roadway. They bought drinks and then found a spot on the smooth, white sand. While Jeremy was stripping off his shorts and T-shirt, she spread her towel out on the sand, found her sunglasses, and lay down.

      “Aren’t you going to take things off?” he asked.

      Angelina took her shorts off and lay back down. Jeremy had gotten out his lotion.

      “I can’t get your back with your shirt on.”

      Angelina sat up and hugged her legs.

      “Is something wrong?”

      “Well, I forgot to bring my bathing suit. This one is borrowed and not quite to my...specifications.”

      “We’re on St. Thomas. No one cares what your bathing suit looks like. Come. Let me give you a massage,” he suggested.

      Reluctantly, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and balled it up next to her. She was wearing Safire’s bikini, the kind of thing she never wore. And though the sisters were similar in stature, Angelina was slightly better endowed in the front and the rear. She could feel the little straps cutting into her rump, and her breasts were almost pouring from the tiny little triangles in front—or at least she felt as if they were.

      Jeremy’s jaw dropped. His eyes caressed her desirously.

      “You look great in that,” he said. “It fits you like a glove.”

      Angelina relaxed a bit, seeing the admiration in his eyes.

      After he got the lotion on her, he lifted her up.

      “What are you doing?”

      He was heading for the surf. He got her into waist-high water and then lifted her to throw her in, but she clung to his neck, and only her legs dropped. Both of them were laughing.

      “Hey,” she said after gaining her footing. “The water is warm. Let’s go in.”

      She took off under the water, and he dove in to follow. They swam out a bit, then swam the length of the rounded, heart-shaped shore and came back.

      “You’re a real swimmer,” he said as they gained their footing near the shoreline.

      “I love the water. And this is so blue. Stand up and look down at your feet. You can see the little fish swimming around them.”

      “Yeah, you can.”

      They were neck deep in crystal-blue water. He lifted her in the water and spun her around, taking her into his arms to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing, until the kiss became more serious. She could feel him beginning to swell against her.

      He let her down, a wistful look in his eyes, and they started to swim again, this time to the other end of Magen’s Bay. After swimming and playing in the water for almost two hours, they padded back up to their towels.

      “You’re not from Florida,” she said. “How did you learn to swim so well?”

      “Actually, I was raised in Texas. My parents are still there. I went to Howard University, and as an undergraduate, you had to take swimming. I swam at the YMCA as a kid, but I got a C in swimming.”

      She laughed. He did, too.

      “That’s not funny. It brought my grade point average down.” That made her laugh harder. “I was then determined to master the art.”

      “You had to take swimming?”

      “At Howard, you still have to take swimming in Arts and Sciences.”

      “If I wasn’t from North Miami, it might have brought my average down as well. But you’re not a nerd.”

      Jeremy laughed. “Thank you, I guess. I played a bit in high school, though. I knew if I wanted to go on, I had to do well, so I was pretty determined in college. What about you?”

      “I wanted the A. I got a B in chemistry lab and freaked out. I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m not a doctor now. Book stuff I could do. Practical application with beakers and Bunsen burners and goggles—no.”

      They both laughed.

      “Did you ever actually aspire to medical school?” he asked.

      “No, I was always more arts than sciences.”

      “I guess I was always more sciences than arts. I had to work in English, and I mean work.”

      They both laughed again. Angelina wanted to tell him about her writing, but something stopped her. It was personal, as personal as sex, and as usual, she held back. After last night, maybe she didn’t need to. But the moment had passed.

      After drying off in the sun, they caught the safari back to the ship. They had lunch, but after that, reason got the better of her. She hadn’t gotten much work done yet, so she begged off. He had dinner plans with his boys, so they decided to meet afterward. She could pick the activity.

      She showered, rinsed out her sister’s swimsuit and spent the afternoon at the table in her room working on the syllabus for one of her classes and making notes for her paper on World War II political activism by Black women in Harlem.

      Around six o’clock, she grabbed a sandwich and then camped out on the balcony with the Patterman СКАЧАТЬ