That Summer In The Country

Three

Three

He was there. The guy that she'd lost her virginity to. She had seen him walking across the beach at Novyi Zem when her and her parents had docked there while they were researching a group of dolphins that were nearly extinct. She had gone off exploring on her own, collecting seashells by the beach because she kept seashells from every coast they went to.

As she'd bent down to pick up the shell, she had seen a tall, lithe guy with jet black hair and brown eyes walking towards her. There had been something familiar about him that she couldn't place.

"Seashell for your thoughts?" he'd said as she bent down to pick one up. He was so handsome she'd nearly dropped all of the ones that she'd been carrying. He'd smiled at her.

"Oh," said Alina, "I know it seems silly----I collect a few from every place I stay. I was trying to make sure I had the perfect one."

"The perfect seashell?"

She nodded.

He was staring at her, undressing her with her eyes. Which wasn't that hard to do because she was wearing an orange bikini that showed her midriff and a pink sarong around her waist with a slit up her thigh. "Well," he said, "I can name one thing that's perfect on this beach."

Alina coughed, blushing. She was eighteen, having just had her birthday yesterday. And a beautiful stranger was flirting with her on the beach. "Really----well why don't you show me how perfect I am by worshipping me?"

He grinned at her. "Can I get a name, beautiful?"

"Oh, come on," she said, "how often do you get to have a meeting with a mysterious stranger on the beach? No names. Just fun."

"No names?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "But what if I want to see you again?"

"Well, that's not up to you."

"Isn't it?"

She shook her head. "The Saints have to push us together again, you see." She smiled wryly at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Ah. A believer," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"I take it you aren't one?"

He shook his head. "Not in the slightest."

"That's what will make it even more romantic. See, I travel everywhere. It's rare to run into the same person twice. If we meet again, it means the Saints want us to be together, and then I'll give you my name."

"Can I at least give you mine?" he'd asked.

She shook her head, smiling. "No, but you can fuck me."

He grinned. "Come on. I've got a hotel room."

"Not here, on the beach?"

"I don't like audiences," he said, "also I have expensive sheets and room service."

She grinned. "To your hotel room it is."

He was staying in one of the fanciest places in the city. It was only a few blocks from the beach. The Shriftport Grand was a white building, with a red, gingerbread style roof, with intricate, patterned trellises. As they walked through the lobby, the dark-haired stranger took her hand, and they walked through the grand lobby together. There was a marble floor and a pianist in the corner.

"Wow," Alina breathed, shocked by the beauty of the place.

Her darkhaired stranger smiled over at her. "Impressed?"