Islands and Interference

“Yes,” Renee answered before Jake could speak, her voice steady even though her pulse was hammering. “We’re going on our honeymoon.” Mike’s gaze slid to Jake, sharp as glass. “Where?” Jake’s mouth curved, easy and confident. “Bora Bora,” he said smoothly, like it was the truth. His arm slipped around Renee’s waist in a subtle pull forward. “We’ll send you a postcard.” Mike’s eyes lingered on them a moment too long before he gave a small nod. “Enjoy yourselves.” Renee didn’t breathe until they’d turned the corner and reached the boarding gate. The sign above their heads read Malé, Maldives. “Bora Bora, huh?” she murmured under her breath.

Jake’s grin was quick and quiet. “He doesn’t need to know where we actually are. Let him waste his time searching the wrong ocean.” They boarded without looking back. By the time the plane landed hours later, the tension of the airport had been replaced by the warm, salted air of a secluded paradise. Palm trees swayed lazily against a backdrop of turquoise water, and the sun bathed the island in gold. A private boat carried them across a glassy lagoon to their cabin, an overwater bungalow perched above the reef, the sea lapping softly beneath. The moment they stepped inside, Renee’s breath caught. The walls opened up to the ocean, the bed framed by nothing but sky and horizon.

Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Welcome to our honeymoon” She smiled, leaning into him as the sound of the waves filled the room. For the first time in days, she felt completely untouchable. Renee let the thin straps of her sundress slide down her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet. The ocean breeze kissed her skin, warm and sweet with the scent of salt and hibiscus. Jake stood still for a moment, watching her as if he were memorizing every line of her. Then he closed the distance. His hands slid around her waist, fingers spreading against her lower back in a way that made her feel both anchored and exposed.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear, “how many nights I’ve wanted this.” Her breath caught. She turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing his jaw. “Then stop wanting.” That broke him. His mouth found hers, slow but deep, the kind of kiss that carried every mile they’d traveled to get here and every hour they’d stolen from danger. She melted into him, her palms resting against the solid warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips. Jake’s hands roamed, not rushed but deliberate, mapping the curve of her back, the slope of her hip. He walked her backward toward the bed, never breaking the kiss, until her knees brushed the edge.

The sheets were cool when she sank onto them, the open wall letting in the rhythmic hush of waves. Jake leaned over her, his hair falling forward, his gaze so intense it felt like it stripped her bare faster than any touch could. “I’m not letting anything touch you here but me,” he said, voice low and certain. Her fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. She traced the lines of his muscles, the warmth of his skin under her hands, committing every detail to memory. When he lowered himself beside her, the world outside disappeared. There was only the whisper of the ocean, the heat of his body against hers, and the slow, deliberate way he kissed her like time itself had surrendered. Jake’s thumb brushed along her jaw, a slow, reverent motion that made her want to close her eyes and just feel. But she didn’t want to miss a single look in his eyes, not when they were this open, stripped of every shield he’d ever worn.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and the world tilted. His weight shifted slightly as one arm slid beneath her, pulling her fully against him. The warmth of his chest pressed to hers, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the pull in her own. Her fingertips traced the ridges of his spine, feeling the way each breath made his muscles shift under her touch. The more she explored, the more she felt the tremor in him, not from hesitation, but from holding back. The ocean’s lull was a soft backdrop, but every sound seemed sharper now, the faint hitch in his breath when her hands traveled lower, the whisper of sheets as he adjusted to fit himself closer against her.

He brushed his lips down the line of her throat, pausing where her pulse throbbed. His breath was warm, almost teasing, as if he wanted her to know he could feel how fast her heart was racing. “Renee.” Her name was rough in his mouth, like gravel softened by longing. She answered by tangling her fingers in his hair and guiding him back to her lips. The kiss turned slow again, but not hesitant, a drawn-out pull that said they had all night, and neither of them wanted to rush. Jake’s hand slid along her thigh, the light pressure of his fingertips setting her skin alight. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He simply held her there, like he was making sure she felt how much he wanted her without ever needing to say it.

She shifted, turning just enough to press her body flush against his. The movement drew a soft sound from his throat, a low, unguarded note that sent heat curling through her. Their legs tangled together, the fabric of her dress trapped somewhere between them, not quite gone but forgotten. The night air swept over the bare skin of her shoulder, and then Jake’s lips were there, warming where the breeze had chilled. “I want to remember this exactly as it is,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent. “No fear. No one chasing us. Just you.” She felt her chest tighten, the ache of wanting him and the relief of being wanted in return blending until she didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

Jake’s palm flattened over her ribs, his touch steady, grounding. And then he drew her into a slow roll, so she was above him, her hair spilling forward to frame their faces. The look he gave her was almost her undoing, desire, yes, but also trust. She lowered herself to him, kissing him until the lines between them blurred. Every shift, every sigh, every gentle graze of lips and fingertips became its own language. They didn’t need to speak again until much later, when they finally lay tangled together, her cheek resting against his chest as the ocean sang to the shore. Jake’s breathing slowed, his lips brushing lazy trails along her neck as they lay tangled in the soft sheets. The sound of the waves outside filled the quiet, lulling them into a slow, content rhythm. His hand found hers, their fingers curling together in a warm, unspoken promise.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to her temple. Renee smiled, her eyes heavy with bliss and exhaustion. She could still feel the warmth of him against her, the scent of him lingering in the air. “So are you.” They stayed that way, skin to skin, until the night’s sounds pulled them into a deep, peaceful sleep. Outside, the ocean whispered against the shore, as if blessing the start of their new life.