The sun was sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. I wandered down the path I’d found earlier, barefoot, letting the sand cool under my feet. The island was quiet at this hour, most people retreating to the beachfront bars or their rented bungalows.

But I wasn’t ready to go back yet. Not to the noise or the company of strangers swapping vacation stories. I wanted the stillness, the kind that hummed in my veins and made me feel like I could shed the stress I’d carried here.

That’s when I saw him.

A man—tall, broad-shouldered, waist-deep in the water, his back to me. The light caught the droplets as they rolled off his skin, and I felt my breath catch. He turned, eyes meeting mine, and gave a slow, almost knowing smile.

“Didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot,” he called out, his voice low and rough.

I shrugged, forcing a casual smile. “Guess it’s a good place to think.”

He nodded, moving a little closer, the water lapping around his waist. “Yeah. Gets pretty loud over by the bars. Needed some quiet.”

His tone was easy, not pressing. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was just enjoying the solitude or if he’d come here for the same reason I did—to escape, even just for a little while.

I stayed near the shore, not quite daring to wade in, but not leaving either. We didn’t speak for a while, just listened to the waves and the distant hum of the island nightlife. Somehow, the silence felt comfortable. Like we didn’t need to fill it.

Eventually, he looked over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to join. Water’s warm.”

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to cross that line. But curiosity—and something deeper—made my feet move forward.

I stepped into the water, letting the waves lap at my ankles before wading in a little deeper. The water was warm, like he said, and it wrapped around my legs like a soft invitation. I moved closer, stopping just before the water reached my waist.

He didn’t move toward me. Instead, he just watched, eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite read. A challenge, maybe. Or just curiosity, same as mine.

“You’re brave,” he said, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

I arched a brow. “For stepping into the water?”

“For coming closer.”

I swallowed down the flutter of nerves. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you were real.”

He chuckled, a low, easy sound. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

A wave broke against my thighs, pushing me a little closer. I didn’t fight it. The space between us narrowed, and I could feel the pull of his presence as much as the water.

He reached out, just grazing his fingertips over my forearm, like he was testing to see if I’d pull away. I didn’t.

I met his gaze, steady this time. “Not sure yet.”

He nodded, like he understood. Then he let his hand linger just a second longer before letting it fall back to his side. We stayed like that, barely touching, just feeling the electric hum between us.

And for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow—or yesterday. Just the moment, suspended in the warm, endless night.

I hadn’t expected to see him again. The island was big enough that we could have stayed in separate corners, but there he was—sitting at the far end of the beach bar, his silhouette outlined by the glow of tiki torches. I couldn’t help but stare, a mixture of surprise and excitement bubbling up inside me.

This time, he saw me first. A slow, easy smile curved his lips as he lifted his drink in a silent toast. I took a breath and walked over, unable to resist the pull.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you again,” I said, sliding onto the stool next to him.

He leaned closer, his voice a low rumble. “Maybe it’s fate.”

We talked, letting the conversation ebb and flow, but the tension between us never faded. His fingers brushed mine on the bar, and it felt like a spark igniting the air. After a while, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Walk with me?”

I nodded, and he took my hand, leading me away from the bar, down a path lit only by moonlight. We found a quiet spot under the palms, away from the noise and the lights, where the sound of the waves was the only thing filling the silence.

We barely made it to the quiet side of the beach before his hands were on me—urgent, possessive. The intensity was different this time—deeper, hotter—like we’d both spent days thinking about this moment. He pressed me against the rough bark of a palm tree, his lips finding mine with a hunger that left me breathless. I arched into him, feeling his body align with mine, hard and unyielding.

His hands slid under my dress, fingers tracing the line of my thigh, lingering just long enough to make me shiver before gripping my waist. He lifted me, hooking my legs around his hips, and I gasped, the rough texture of the tree scraping my back while his mouth moved to my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. I couldn’t help but dig my nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more.

“Tell me you’ve thought about this,” he whispered, his voice rough and full of need.

“Every night,” I breathed, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice.

He didn’t hold back, kissing me deeper, hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the fabric higher. His lips traced down my collarbone, hot and insistent, while his fingers found bare skin beneath my dress. I moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his mouth returning to mine, hungrier now. The air between us was thick, charged, and I couldn’t help but arch into him, feeling the hard press of his body against mine.

He shifted us down to the sand, the roughness of the palm replaced by the soft, cool ground. He hovered over me, his hands tracing every curve, exploring, claiming. I tugged his shirt free, desperate to feel his skin against mine. When I traced my fingers down his chest, he shuddered, a low groan escaping his lips.

He pulled my dress up and over my head, his gaze roaming over me with unrestrained hunger. His hands roamed my body, fingers pressing into my hips, guiding me closer. When his mouth found my breast, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, I gasped, arching up to meet him.

His hands moved lower, gripping my thighs, parting them as he pressed his body to mine. The feel of him—hot, solid—between my legs made me tremble. He whispered my name, his voice rough and broken, and I pulled him closer, my hands in his hair, guiding him to my lips again.

We moved together, each touch igniting another wave of need. The rhythm between us grew desperate, driven by days of anticipation. When the climax finally hit, it was like the world stopped—just him, me, and the sound of the waves crashing around us. He buried his face in my neck, breath ragged, hands still clutching my hips as we slowly came back to reality.

He stayed close, his lips brushing my temple, whispering soft words I couldn’t quite catch. We didn’t move for a long time, just stayed there, tangled together, the night sky stretching above us, endless and full of stars. He pressed me against the rough bark of a palm tree, his lips finding mine with a heat that made my knees weak. I arched into him, feeling his body align with mine, hard and unyielding.

His hands slid under my dress, fingers tracing the line of my thigh before gripping my waist, lifting me just enough to hook my legs around his hips. I gasped, his mouth moving to my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as I dug my nails into his shoulders.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough and low.

“Yes,” I breathed, pulling him closer, feeling the weight of his desire against me.

He moved against me, slow and deliberate, making me feel every inch of his intent. I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped my lips, and he swallowed it with another kiss, deeper, hungrier. The world faded to just us—the heat, the night, and the sound of our breaths mingling.

He gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him, the friction making me gasp. His mouth traced a path down my neck, hands sliding under the hem of my dress, pushing it up as he kissed me deeper. I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer.

His hands roamed, tracing the line of my thigh, his touch rough and sure. I felt his breath hitch when I tugged his shirt free, fingers grazing his bare skin. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against my throat.

He lifted me effortlessly, guiding me down onto the soft sand, his body pressing into mine. His lips never left mine, urgent and insistent, as if making up for lost time. I matched his pace, needing more, my hands roaming his back, feeling the tension in his muscles.

When he finally pushed my dress higher, his hands tracing the curve of my hips, I arched into him, desperate for the contact. He moved with me, our movements syncing, a rhythm that felt both primal and tender. The night around us seemed to hold its breath, the waves crashing in rhythm with us.

Our breathing grew ragged, the air thick with the scent of salt and desire. When the tension broke, it felt like falling—into him, into the night, into something raw and beautiful. We stayed tangled together, his hands still roaming my skin, his lips brushing my collarbone as our heartbeats slowly returned to normal.

He stayed close, forehead pressed to mine, whispering soft words that made my heart flutter. We didn’t move for a long time, just stayed there, wrapped in each other, the world beyond the sand and sea fading into nothing.