To make up for the way things went on our first night together after we did the deed, Russell took me back to his house, and we spent the night together. It was wonderful. We cuddled, woke up at some point during the middle of the night, and did it again. We fell asleep together, then woke up again in the morning and did it again like a couple of animals in heat, unable to keep our hands off each other. Then we got up, showered, and made breakfast.
As it turns out, Russell isn’t the world’s greatest chef, but he can make fruit salad, tea, and toast, so he handled that and was my sous-chef while I made pancakes and eggs and cooked the sausage. Being raised by a single dad who gambles and drinks too much basically means you either learn to cook for yourself, eat cereal your whole life, or starve. I chose to learn to cook.
I tried to do the dishes with him, but he wouldn’t let me. His exact words for telling me to take a seat while he did all the work were, “My mom always said whoever didn’t cook cleaned. And all I did was chop some fruit, heat some water, and toast some bread.”
“You looked incredibly handsome too.” I smiled, but I did as I was told and sat there at the table, sipping a cranberry seltzer while I watched him do the dishes and place them in the drying rack. It was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen a man do.
After that, I thought he’d be taking me home because he had work to get done, but I was wrong. He told me to get in the car because he had something already planned for us to go and do together.
Excited, I did just as I was told, and he drove us over to my apartment where, under his instructions, I picked up a bikini, some suntan lotion, and a beach towel. I got back in his car, but after that, he refused to tell me where we were headed or what we were doing.
“Come on, Russell,” I say, as he drives, an amused smirk on his face. “Where are you taking me? Florida?”
“Could be.” He shrugs. He’s delighting in messing with me, and I’m kind of finding it funny.
“Well, I hope you have a bunch of money ready to spend for when we get there. Because I don’t have any more clothes than what I’m wearing.”
“That’s all right with me.” He grins. “You can just stay in our hotel room as my personal sex slave. You won’t need any clothes for that.”
Again, I give him a light punch on the arm, which causes him to chuckle. “Jerk!”
“Hey, careful! Hit me too hard and we might crash.”
As it turns out, Russell’s plan is to take us to the beach. It’s a beautiful sunny day, and based on what he asked me to pick up from my apartment, I should have figured that one out myself.
The parking lot isn’t too crowded, and we’re able to find a parking spot pretty easily. I start to walk toward the sand, but Russell takes me by the hand and starts to lead me in the direction of the boardwalk, where all the little shops and restaurants are.
“You want a hot dog?” I jokingly ask. Russell smiles and shakes his head.
“Nah, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do, though, that I thought we might do today.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “What’s that?”
He just smiles and keeps walking. “I’ll show you.”
There’s something so exciting about going along with Russell, letting myself be led by him. I don’t know where he’s taking me, and even though I’m giving him a hard time about it, I kind of don’t want to know.
So much of my life has been in my own hands, my own control, taking care of myself after not having a mother or a father to take care of me. In fact, I’ve spent so much of my life taking care of my father and the issues he created for himself that it’s nice to basically just let go and have someone else take over.
We walk down the boardwalk, hand in hand, and eventually end up at a bicycle shop, where we’re greeted by an overly amicable man behind the register. “Hey there, you two. Wonderful day, isn’t it? Come to rent some bicycles?”
I can’t help but smile as I glance over at Russell. “We sure are. You have some of those two-seater couples bikes right?”
“I sure do, sir,” the man replies. “Twenty-five bucks for an hour, any more than that and you–”
“An hour will be fine,” Russell replies, handing him his card. Still smiling, the man takes it and swipes it.
“All right then! Helmets are optional, pedal backwards to brake, use the little dingy-thingy on the handle bars to let pedestrians know when you’re passing, and you are liable for any damages, but I’m sure you two won’t do any of that, right?”
“Of course we won’t,” I chime in.
The man hands Russell back his card and points to a row of low, two-seater bikes to our left. “Take your pick and have a good time!”
“Thank you.” Russell smiles and walks over to the bikes. I follow him and gaze over the selection laid out before us. He turns to me and motions at them. “Pick one.”
“Me?”
“No, Rebel Wilson,” he snorts. “Yeah, you.”
I laugh and lean into him, wrapping an arm around his muscular chest. “Umm…” There’s a blue one, a red one, a yellow one, an orange one, a pink one, and a bunch of boring black and gray ones. “I’ll do you a favor and not pick the pink one. Let’s go with the red one.”
Laughing, Russell takes the back seat of the red bike. “Hey, I’m secure in my masculinity. I would have ridden the pink one.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” I reply, taking my seat. “Red is actually my favorite color.”
“Is that so? Well, gorgeous, off we go!”
In unison, we each take hold of the handlebars and start pedaling. The bike lurches forward, and we start moving quickly down the boardwalk. It’s a lot easier than I thought it would be, and we’re zipping up on the pedestrians in no time.
I reach out and ding the little “dingy-thingy,” alerting a high school couple to our presence. They move aside to let us pass, and I suddenly feel like a beach VIP. I glance back at Russell, and we both smile.
“This is great!” I exclaim.
“It sure is,” he smiles. He leans up for a kiss, and we both stop pedaling. Somewhere behind us, a few people clap and cheer, causing us both to smile. “Looks like we’ve got an audience,” he whispers.
I glance back and see it’s a few regular suburban people, just some friends out to have a nice day at the beach, and although I couldn’t be happier with Russell, I feel myself blushing at what they just saw us doing.
It’s so strange. I couldn’t have cared less the other night leaving his house if someone had seen me in the lingerie I was wearing at the mansion, but today when I’m not even lying out in my bikini, I’m feeling shy just being seen kissing Russell in public. What’s that all about?
We ride up and down the boardwalk and return the bike after just over a half hour. On our way down to the sand, Russell gets us both Italian ices. He orders a lime and strawberry, and I get a blue raspberry.
“I used to love these when I was a kid,” he says as he takes his first spoonful. “Used to make my mom get them for me whenever we came here.”
“Must be nice having parents who actually care about you,” I reply, but when I see the look on his face, I instantly regret it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“No, that’s fine. That’s not your job.”
As our feet hit the sand, Russell wraps a comforting arm around me and kisses me on the top of the head. It’s incredible how safe and protected I feel when I’m with him. It’s as though my life has completely shifted in an entire new direction now, and it’s all thanks to him.
We find an open patch of sand and lie down. I strip down to my bikini, and Russell takes off his shirt, and we continue to munch on the remainder of our Italian ices as they rapidly melt in the warm summer sun.
“What a day,” I say as I lean over and kiss him gently on the shoulder.
“Enjoying yourself?” He smiles.
“You know I am.”
Russell kisses me back in the same spot, then gently runs his hand up my back, tracing the lines of my body like a sculptor memorizing them for a later project. “Can I ask you something, baby?”
“Of course,” I reply. Russell locks his eyes on mine like he has something very important to say.
“I know this is probably a very stupid thing to say, but…you aren’t going to be going back to the mansion, right? To work?”
I can’t help it, but a smile comes over my lips. I kind of want to screw with him – tease him a little – but I can see just how protective of me he is right now, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.
“How could you ask me that, baby?” I reply, pulling myself up against him so our bodies are touching. I wrap my arm around him and lean close, telling him everything I can with my eyes. “You never have to pay me another dollar, and I belong to you now.”
Russell’s eyes light up, and without warning, he snatches me by the waist, rolls onto his back, and pulls me on top of him.
There I go again, feeling shy with all these people watching, but I also feel something deeper pushing that shyness away – a feeling deep in my chest blossoming with an incredible intensity that it’s almost like the rest of the world simply melts away, leaving just Russell and me alone with each other.
“You belong to me.” He smiles. “And I belong to you.”
“I like that,” I whisper.
“So what do you want to do?” he asks me. “Now that you won’t be going back to the mansion?”
I sigh and lay my head on his chest. “Well, I always thought being a hairdresser would be fun. But you have to go to hairdresser school, and that’s kind of expensive.”
“Well, I’m sure we can make it happen,” Russell replies, placing a comforting hand on my back. “That’s my job now, baby. To make whatever you want happen.”
