Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story (15 page)

Not one to be outdone, whether his actions were contrived or not, I dip the other half of my dessert into the chocolate and begin licking it off instead of putting it into my mouth. When I dare a look at Asher, his eyes are following every move my mouth makes, his own mouth parted. “Yum,” I murmur.

I’m not sure who moves first, but his mouth is on mine. His tongue lashing with my own and he kisses me like I’m the only dessert he ever cares to taste. Returning his intensity with my own, when he pulls away we’re both breathless. He licks his lips, “You’re right. Yum.” And with that, I’m pretty sure my panties catch on fire.

He gives me a light kiss on the forehead and moves the last of the dishes onto the room service cart and pushes it into the hall. When he returns, he holds a hand out to me, “How about you unpack, change into something comfortable and we can order a movie?”

“Sounds good.” He carries my suitcase into the bedroom and places it on the bed with a smile.

Grabbing the remote, he searches for the movie channels. “What movie do you want to watch?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess there’s just something weird about the movie star asking for my opinion on a movie.”

He laughs, “Can’t handle the pressure?”

“Hell no. What if I pick something you hate?”

“Not possible.”

“If you say so, but I still think you should choose.”

“Okay, well at least tell me what you’re in the mood for,” he laughs.

We settle on a comedy and while he picks one from the list available for purchase, I hang up clothes and place them in the dresser, my things alongside his feeling surprisingly intimate. There’s a double sink in the bathroom and I put my items on the clear side. When I’m finished I grab my pajamas after a bit of hesitation and go to the bathroom to change.

I wasn’t sure what to wear. I mean, did I want to be sexy? It’s not like I brought lingerie thinking I was going to hook up while on vacation, I removed it all from my suitcase before I left, so my options were limited aside from walking out naked and there was no way I was going to do that. I settled for pink sleep shorts that say ‘dream’ on the butt and a white camisole. Washing my face, I pull my hair up into a top knot and walk out into the bedroom, feeling vulnerable with a clean face and casual clothes and hair.

Asher turns toward me and his gaze glides over me from head to toe. I do the same to him, seeing he’s changed into sleep pants and nothing else. He walks across the room to me and I unabashedly watch his muscles flex with his movements. Asher reaches me and kisses me on the nose. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. All my trepidation melts with two words.

Taking my hand, he leads me to the bed and waits for me to climb in. Following me, he starts the movie then reaches for me, pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. Pulling back for a moment, I look at him, “Wait a minute.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I just realized all we did is talk about my family. I want to find out more about you and your family.”

He smiles, “You will. We’ve got time for that tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I tell him promising myself I will keep my mouth shut and let him talk tomorrow. I feel guilty for only talking about myself. He pulls me toward him once more and sighing deeply, I rest my head against his chest. We watch the movie together, me wrapped in his arms the whole time. Occasionally, I feel his lips in my hair pressing kisses to the top of my head. I feel comfortable, relaxed, adored, and safe. I love the way his chest feels when it rumbles in laughter under my cheek when he finds something on the screen funny. I smile and laugh too, each and every time, until eventually, the sound of his heartbeat lulls me to sleep.

The next morning, Asher wakes me and instructs me to dress in my swimsuit. I quickly put one on, throw on a cute matching cover up, slip on my flip-flops and we’re out the door. He insists I don’t need anything else. With a backpack thrown over his shoulder, he takes my hand and leads me outside to where a golf cart is waiting to take us to the lobby so we can catch a shuttle.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing today?” I ask feeling almost giddy about spending more time with him. Plus a surprise doesn’t hurt. I like surprises – the happy kind anyway.

He places a hand on my thigh squeezing, “You’ll see.”

His touch ignites my skin. I can feel every impression of his fingers against my leg and the heat from them moves straight up to the center of my legs. Last night, I woke up at one point to find our limbs entwined with my head still resting comfortably on his chest. I snuggled in closer and felt momentarily strange that we hadn’t done more than kiss before falling asleep together. I’m not naïve. I know that when he asked me to move into his room with him that his intentions are to share more than a few kisses with me here and there. Hell, I’m looking forward to it. I’m not sure if I feel grateful that we spent time getting more comfortable with one another last night, or disappointed we didn’t do more.

Pushing the thoughts away, I decide to enjoy the ride through the city as the shuttle takes us to my mystery destination. I can’t help but be fascinated by the town. Before arriving, I read a little about Cabo. While well-known by its tourists, including many in the entertainment industry, for its expanse of lovely resorts and spas and famous for its beaches, surfing, sport fishing, championship golf courses, and active night life, the rides into and through the area offers a study in contrast. In fact, the clash of pop culture and American influence with Mexican tradition provides intrigue and an interesting study. The people, whether within the resort or elsewhere are pleasant, warm, welcoming and helpful, while exuding strong Mexican culture and values. Life appears simpler; people appear unhurried, easy going, more carefree. Yet, traffic is busy and more congested than one might expect enabling candid visuals.

Outside of the mainly touristy areas are closely cluttered, often wood shuttered, pastel to the occasional brightly colored adobe or cement block homes, sometimes roofless, capture my attention. What appears to be towels or similar laundry are often hanging over wood banisters. Similarly, laundry adorns clothes lines in backyards. As we get close to the tourist areas, what seems like unusual numbers of local people, stand on street corners or in front of local shops. Flea markets peer out between shops and on street corners. Occasional street vendors selling jewelry and handmade art can be seen. Enmeshed between traditional establishments and local art galleries are places like Senior Frogs, Cabo Wabo and Hard Rock Café. Tourists, distinguishable in both dress and hurried walk, carry their purchases in simple plastic bags. The view provides quite a visual experience.

It isn’t long before the shuttle pulls into a resort called the Rosé. Asher tells me that this resort is a sister to the one we are staying as he helps me step down from the van and ushers me through the resort lobby. We walk with intention and move directly through the open doors in the back of the vast lobby and emerge looking at a huge swimming pool. It’s then obvious that the hotel is shaped in a large U. The lobby area takes up the small vertical curve at the bottom of the U while the horizontal lines are comprised of rooms along both sides. The swimming pool is smack in the middle of it all, and runs the entire length of the resort – it’s huge. A restaurant sits astride one side. Steps both from the restaurant and the end of the pool lead to the beachfront.

The pool is already crowded though it’s barely mid-morning, several people already occupying lounge chairs. Sporadically positioned around the pool are wooden huts - some expose various merchandise, others contain art activities. We pass several, most with different items for purchase - jewelry, suntan blocks and oils, snack food, towels, even snorkels and goggles; two contained various shaped and types of ceramics to paint. No one actually entreats us to make a purchase, but smiles of encouragement abound.

The main attraction is a stone statue of the very naked God of the sea himself, Neptune. He must be at least eight feet tall and is looking out at the pool before him while holding his trident at his side. People wait in lines to take photos with him although I have no idea how they are getting all of him in the photo. No matter where you’re standing, it seems as if Neptune is watching you – rather creepy really. I briefly think of Katie and smile knowing she would have something sarcastic to say about Neptune’s very large member.

Stopping at another wagon that looks like a mini office, Asher hands me a sunblock canister from his backpack, “Here, why don’t you start putting this on while I take care of something really quick.”

“Okay,” I nod and smile taking the can from him. Walking to an empty chair, I remove my cover up and start spraying every reachable spot on my body with the sunblock. The sun can be fierce and while I want my fair share, I certainly don’t want a sunburn to interfere with other shall I say, opportunities. When I’m finished, I look to Asher to find that the man he’s talking to is writing something down, but Asher’s eyes are completely on me. Sunglasses perched on top of his head he’s got his arms crossed over his chest, which makes his biceps bulge. His intense eyes rake my body, making me feel as if I’m naked. Chills run over me from the heat in his gaze, and I like it. He clearly finds me attractive, and it feels good. Suddenly, Asher’s intense look turns into a frown. Before I can wonder about it too long someone speaking distracts me.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Breaking eye contact with Asher, I turn to find a man smiling coyly at me. He’s shirtless, wearing navy swim trunks, and his blonde hair sticks up in spikes all over his head. He’s muscular, and certainly attractive, but has nothing on Asher. “Yes?”

“I saw you spraying sunblock on yourself and thought it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t offer to help you.”

“Help me?” I ask confused.

“I thought I’d spray your back for you since you can’t reach it, if you’d like. I’d hate for you to get sunburnt because you miss the middle. My name is Brandon by the way, and you are?”

“She’s my wife,” Asher answers to my surprise before I have a chance to respond. His eyes are intensely focused on Brandon. “And I’ll be taking care of her sunblock, and anything else she needs, thanks.”

Brandon looks immediately to Asher and holds up his hands in retreat, “Sorry man, my bad.”

“Yes, it is,” Asher replies, possessiveness clear in his tone and the look on his face. It excites me and I’m not ashamed to admit my core clenches with desire.

“Sorry again,” Brandon says as Asher takes the sunblock can from me and wraps an arm around my waist. Brandon starts to walk away but not before looking at Asher again and doing a double take. “Hey. Are you… yes it is… dude, you’re Asher Charming. Oh my god, I’m a big fan. I’ve seen all your Jack Danger movies.”

Asher flashes a brief smile, “Thanks. Sorry to run, but my wife and I have somewhere to be.”

“Yeah, no problem man. Wow. Asher Charming. Sorry for hitting on your wife.”

Asher nods and waits for me to grab my cover up off the chair before we begin walking toward the stairs that lead to the beach. “Sorry,” he mumbles looking embarrassed, “not that I should be surprised. But I’m still sorry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t much care for sunblock boy back there wanting to give you a hand. Not that I should be surprised. Do you have any idea how amazing you look in that bikini?”

Looking down at the pink, orange and white paisley and floral halter suit I’m wearing, I feel pleasure wash over me at his words. “Thank you, and don’t apologize. A second more and I think Brandon would have been spraying me down whether I wanted him to or not. I probably would have passed out from the fumes.”

Chuckling, Asher nods and finishes applying sunblock on my back. Then I return the favor before we begin walking down the beach, to where, I have no idea. I walk beside him, barefooted, thankful the sand isn’t hot yet, and absorb the view of the ocean. We pass lounge chair after chair of sunbathers. Many others stand individually or in small groups; others play games of Frisbee, four square, or beach volleyball on the sandy ocean front. Looking down the beach, I see a few flying kites while others sit, making sand castles. Women, men and even some children of all ages walk up to us and entreat us to purchase various types of merchandise. I’m blown away by how much they can carry at one time. Blankets, jewelry, toys for children that fly into the air, beach towels. One woman even has hanger after hanger on her arms of dresses and sarongs.