Page 58 of My Grape Crush
I snap my journal shut and let the nerves flutter through me. The past two hours were a whirlwind of carnal inspiration. Closing my eyes, the sketches of me and Dani in every possible variation of sin flicker to life in my mind with graphic detail. Dani on all fours in this very bedroom, with me holding on to her hair like reins, buried deep and losing it. On my hammock in Greece, her legs spread wide for me to pray at her altar. And the sensory bits? Vivid to the extreme. Theclinkof her barbell against my teeth when I suck her clit. What damage her slippery, satin tongue might inflict on my dick.
I lie back on the bed, struggling to process it all. In my world, the quiet stuff, the little things, resonate more than grand displays. After Dani shared the Brett trauma, we relaxed into what felt like a genuine connection. We were speaking the same language—or at least I hope we were—because my mind has already flash-forwarded to heavy trembling sighs and bodies melting together.
And then there’s one other problem.
The operative word being “one.”
Some idiot forgot to check his supplies—or lack thereof. I fished through my travel kit and found a single condom, ragged and forgotten. Expired by well over a year, and now burdened with the task of holding back a mother lode of Trenton DNA. And I missed the boat to ask the taxi driver for a drugstore detour. It's almost eight, and the pizzas are on their way. Is it premature to assume condom usage? Maybe. But JC was right. I need to man up and try because everything about Dani feels fated.
And I knew, one day, no matter what everyone said, I would fall for someone.
I think I know who she is.
And this time, I’m ready.
We charge down the stairs to the beach, Dani juggling towels and wine. I’m carrying two pizzas and enough anxiety to fill the lake twice over. The plan of action solidified earlier in my mind only to now scatter with every jackrabbit beat of my heart.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Do we beat the storm?”
Dani shouts over her shoulder, “Maybe!”
The sprawling gray storm clouds slowly engulf the bright blue sky of this afternoon, the moisture in the air making all the smells more prominent. There’s a distinct earthy scent of pine and sun-baked minerals. The spritz of cologne I added earlier now feels pointless against the fresh, raw scents of nature.
When we spill onto the sand, Dani stares in awe at the chop waiting for us. “Wow! Look at the waves!”
The raft is rollicking, the air heavy and filled with the thick, wet slurping sounds of water sucked up against and released against the oil cans. Not exactly a calm dinner party platform.
No wonder the beach is deserted as far as the eye can see.
“I think we should leave the wine and pizzas here,” I say.
Dani drops her bag into the sand. “But we still swim, right?”
“Are we playing fair this time?”
“How much were the pizzas?” she asks with a smile.
“A million, plus tip.”
She laughs, wriggling out of her cut-offs, her tight body on display in a bright yellow bikini splashed with flowers. I whip off my shirt, dropping it next to our dinner. A towering column of angry cumulus clouds swirls closer, and I can feel the static in the air, the drop of barometric pressure that precedes a howler.
“We better move it before the storm hits,” I say.
But my feet stay planted on the sand. Is this beyond stupid? A lightning strike on water is dangerous. It travels along the surface in all directions. The raft is essentially open season for electrocution. And, yes, JC said no woman wants a limp dick.
But I’d rather have a dick than none at all.
“Are you ready?” Dani’s eyes hold a dangerous glint that promise me my life will never be the same after tonight.
Every molecule in my body tingles hot. If anticipation is catching, I’m running a fever.
“Three, two...” I start.
“Try and catch me!” Dani hollers, crashing into the chop with wild abandon. Childlike. Like the storm has possessed her. No intention of playing fair.
Immediately I know: time to risk life and limb in the pursuit of her.
I’m in the water, then under it, all silence and space, gliding like a fish until my arms and legs kick into high gear, propelling me straight to Dani. My hands clamp around her ankle, and she squeals, thrashing to break free, but I hold tight.
