Kai walked beside me, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed in that way only he could manage after a day of nothing but running around the beach.
I'd been trying not to think about Fred-his last text still burned in my mind: *You're too much, Helen. Too big, too loud, too needy.* But the words kept looping anyway.
Kai stopped suddenly. The tide tugged at our ankles, then retreated. He turned to face me, blocking the last of the light so his silhouette looked taller, broader, safer.
"You deserve better," he said, voice low but steady. "You always have."
I tried to laugh it off, but it came out small. "Yeah, well... apparently not."
"No." He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the faint coconut of his sunscreen mixed with his cologne. "Fred was a fucking loser. A coward who couldn't handle a woman who actually fills a room instead of shrinking to fit his tiny ego. He looked at you and saw something to criticize because he couldn't handle how much space you take up-how much life you have."
My throat tightened. I looked down at the sand, watching it swirl around my toes. "He said I was... too much. My body, my appetite, my everything."
Kai's hand lifted, slow, like he was giving me time to pull away. When I didn't, his fingers brushed my cheek, then tilted my chin up so I had to meet his eyes.
"Your body is perfect," he said, and the words landed like a hand on my heart-firm, warm, undeniable. "These hips?" His palm slid to my waist, then lower, cupping the full curve where my sundress clung. "They're made to be held. To be gripped. To be worshipped."
His thumb traced the soft swell of my belly through the fabric, no hesitation, no judgment. "This stomach? Soft and strong and fucking gorgeous. These thighs?" He squeezed one gently, reverently. "They could crush a man's head and he'd thank you for it. And these breasts..." His other hand rose, cupping one, thumb brushing over the nipple that hardened instantly under his touch. "They're heavy and perfect and I've spent years imagining how they'd feel in my hands. In my mouth."
My breath came shaky, heat bloomed low in my belly, spreading fast. "Kai..."
"I'm not saying this to make you feel better," he continued, voice rougher now.
"I'm saying it because it's true. And because I've been holding it in too long." He exhaled, like the confession physically hurt. "I love you, Helen. Not the 'best friend' kind. The kind where I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep buried inside you every night. The kind where I want to be the man who reminds you-every single day-how fucking gorgeous you are. How wanted. How loved."
The words hung between us, heavier than the humid air. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure he could feel it.
"You... love me?" I whispered.
"Yeah." His thumb stroked my lower lip. "And I want to be with you. Really with you. Not hiding behind friendship anymore. Not watching you settle for assholes who don't see what I see."
I stared at him. The way his eyes were soft but burning, the way his hand still rested on my hip like it belonged there. The way he'd flown across the country just to make sure I didn't fall apart alone, even when he was so busy.
Tears pricked my eyes, but they weren't sad ones. "Kai..."
He leaned in, forehead resting against mine. "Say something, baby. Please."
I swallowed. My voice cracked on the first try. "I've loved you too. For so long I didn't even realize it was different from friendship. I just... thought that's how it felt to have someone who actually saw me."
His breath hitched. Then his mouth was on mine-slow at first, like he was savoring the moment he'd waited years for. But when I opened for him, when my tongue met his, the kiss turned hungry, deep and desperate.
His hands roamed-squeezing my ass, lifting me slightly so my thighs parted around his hips as he backed us toward the nearest cabana. The sheer white curtains fluttered in the breeze, offering just enough privacy from the empty beach.
He sat on the edge of the wide lounger, pulling me down to straddle his lap. My dress rode up, exposing thick thighs that pressed against his sides. He groaned into my mouth at the contact.
"Fuck, Helen," he rasped, hands sliding under the fabric to grip bare skin. "You feel so good. So perfect."
I rocked against him instinctively, feeling how hard he already was through his shorts. A soft moan slipped out, his name on my lips like a plea.
"That's it," he murmured, one hand slipping between us, his fingers finding the damp lace of my panties. "Let me hear you. Let me feel how wet you are for me."
He pushed the fabric aside, two fingers gliding through my folds, then sinking deep. I gasped, my head falling back.
"Kai-oh god-"
"You're dripping, baby." His thumb circled my clit in tight, perfect strokes while his fingers curled inside, hitting that spot that made my vision blur. "All this for me? After all these years?"
"Yes-fuck-yes," I whimpered, hips rolling, chasing the pressure. My breasts bounced with every movement, nipples tight against the thin cotton. He leaned forward, sucking one through the dress, his teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out.
"Come for me, Helen," he growled against my skin. "Come on my fingers like the beautiful girl you are. Let go, I've got you."
The praise, the heat, the way he held me like I was precious and filthy all at once-it shattered me.
My thighs clamped around his hand, body jerking as pleasure ripped through me-hot, blinding, endless. I moaned his name loud enough that the waves almost swallowed it, hips grinding down hard as I rode the aftershocks.
He kissed me through it-slow, deep-until I was trembling in his arms, boneless and glowing.
When I finally opened my eyes, he was watching me with something close to awe.
"That's my girl," he whispered, brushing damp hair from my forehead.
