It Happened in Saint Thomas

She returned the favor. But, instead of a peck, she wrapped her arms around him while letting her lips linger on his back for a few moments. Then she said, "This is making me horny, you know."

He turned around. "You? I'm afraid to stand up with these people around."

"Wellll," she said, dragging out the ls, "we still have time before the wedding to fool around." She looked between his legs while massaging one of his muscular shoulders. "I'm up for it if you are. No pun intended, but I took what you said at face value." She giggled, watching him push the bulge in his swimsuit, apparently concerned that one of the beach-goers would notice.

"Okay, let's go," he said, holding the Clancy book over his crotch. "I'm ready." He chuckled. "What an understatement that is."

In the middle of the three flights of stone steps leading to the hotel, she saw Sandy Hecht coming their way, headed for the beach. "Hey," Hannah said. Sandy said hey back, wearing a knowing smirk, before she moved past them.

"One of your troopers?" Craig asked.

"Yeah, and a gossipy one at that." She revealed the conversation they had had between them. "But I don't care. Let her think what she wants. She probably gets off on it."

The wedding was to begin in just under three hours, plenty of time to do what they left the beach for. One of those things, the first thing, was to jump under the shower together. Better to make love without all that sunscreen caked on. They soaped each other off, then hugged and smooched under the jets of warm water. Hannah had never showered with any guy before this. It was another "first."

After drying off, she embraced Craig under the thin covers. Then she said, "It feels so good to be squeaky-clean."

"And then to go from squeaky-clean to down and dirty," Craig said. He buried his face between her squeaky-clean boobs. "Man, do you smell good."

"I should smell nice down here as well," she said. I'd love for you to go there."

He knew the "there" she meant and promptly went there, letting his tongue do the talking in a language she loved and understood. Her concerns outside the confines of this room melted away like ice on a warm day. "A close friend is getting married only a few short hours away," she said, "and here I am, getting down and dirty with the father of the bride."

He looked up and said, "There is a sense of irreverence to what we're doing, I know. But I'm not feeling any guilt. Hope you're not."

"Not at all. As long as we make it to the wedding on time," she chuckled. "Now, mind if I take top?"

"Don't mind at all. I can imagine how incredibly sexy you'd look doing that, bouncing, up and down, facing me with all your considerable charms."

"Okay, climbing aboard then," she said.

Her considerable charms were on full display: her "honey dews" bouncing against her chest, her smooth, yummy thighs thrusting in rhythmic quarter squats, her beautiful face expressing an orgasmic joyousness. She asked, "You like?" A rhetorical question, she knew, if there ever was one. The thrill was evident, from the loving way he looked at her to the way he lifted her up and down, giving her body a sensual, turbo-charged kick in all the right places. If this were her wedding night, she thought, this is what a dream honeymoon would feel like. That included the cuddling after the climax, the protective way he held her and those gentle, post coital kisses.

"You like?" he asked, in a faux mocking tone.

"I don't like, I LOVE what you do for me," she said, playing with his hirsute chest. "This was all so unexpected."

"Surreal."

"Yes, that's exactly it. Surreal. Will you be my date for the wedding?"

"I will indeed. Like you had to ask. Think of it as our official coming out. We'll be on full display."

*****

The wedding was a semi-formal/business-casual affair. After all, it took place on a beach in Saint Thomas, Meagan's Bay Beach to be exact. Early evening shadows crept across the beach and beyond the bordering palm trees. The green hills of the island rose in the background. Temps were in the eighties and there, as always, was that proverbial wet blanket of humidity that left clothes clinging to sweating bodies.

The groom wore a cream-white, light summer suit; the bride, a long white, sleeveless gown. Craig wore an off-white sports jacket, khakis, blue shirt and green tie; Hannah, a low-cut, green print sleeveless dress and flip-flops. Before the ceremony, they stood around, holding hands, chatting with the other guests. If this was their official coming out, as Craig had half-joked, it was a total flop. On the surface, nobody seemed to care anymore. Privately, Jill and Sandy continued their tsk-tsking, something Hannah and Craig sensed and shrugged off.

Craig walked Kaleigh down the "aisle" to a leaf-decorated arch that stood at the water's edge. The thirty-something preacher, one of Peter's cousins, presided. Kaleigh and Peter said their self-written vows. The hired vans, two of them, that took the wedding party to Meagan's Bay, took them back to the hotel for the reception, a twenty-minute ride each way. Hannah and Craig shared a seat, holding hands. Kaleigh and Peter sat in the seat in front of them.

Hannah leaned forward and said, "Kaleigh and Peter, it was a beautiful wedding."

Kaleigh gave her head a half-turn. "Thanks. We're lucky the weather held out."

"If I ever get married, that's the way I'd like to do it," Hannah said.

"Frizzy hair and all?" Craig teased.

Hannah gave him a soft poke in the side. "Frizzy hair and all."

"My hair gets like that too," Kaleigh said. "It would have today if I didn't have it up." She turned fully around and looked at Craig. "You know, dad, I always thought that Hannah would marry before me."

"Life can be unpredictable," Craig said. He grinned, aware that his daughter knew what he meant.

Kaleigh, now Mrs. Kaleigh Bedingfield, glanced at their hands clasped together. "Um, yes, I can see that." She traded smiles with her friend. "Well, I'm glad you guys are having fun."

*****

Man, were they ever! So much fun that they extended their stay in Saint Thomas for a couple more days. The wedding party had departed, leaving them alone to play, freeing them from any lingering inhibitions, far from those who would gossip and snicker.

"You know, I now feel like we're any other couple in Saint Thomas on vacation," Hannah said.

Craig nodded. "Yep, just two people enjoying each other's company in this tropical paradise. Not once did anyone ask me if you were my daughter or even give us weird looks."

They were in the hotel dining room, lingering over a dessert of coffee and rum cake. It was their last night in the Virgin Islands.

Hannah chewed a forkful of cake. Then she said, "No, we're not dad and daughter. But I've been thinking about what we are or what we might become. I mean, I hope you'll want to keep seeing me when we return home. Because I sure as hell don't want whatever we have to end here."

Craig took a sip of coffee, then reached across the table and took her hand. "Absolutely, I want to keep seeing you. I wouldn't have it any other way." He watched her face light up. "Hannah, truth to tell, I've been looking for a woman with your qualities for quite some time. Not necessarily to marry, but someone to share my life with, someone bright and vibrant and sweet. Someone pretty, of course, though you're more than just pretty, inside and out. I 'just haven't met you yet,' the song goes. But that's not true in my case. I have met you and want to be with you, and it doesn't have to be in a tropical paradise. It could be in a movie theater or on a parking lot. We'll always have Saint Thomas, sure, but I also think we can have so much more. In other words, I see potential here, kid."

Hannah felt a warm tingling in her solar plexus. She didn't want to cry but Craig's words of endearment got her eyes to mist up. Blinking back tears, she said, "Craig, say another word and I'm going to break down right here."

He leaned over and brushed a lock of hair that had crept over her right eye. "Well, I wouldn't want you to cry into your rum cake."

She sniffled, then laughed and wiped her eyes. "No, or my coffee either."

After finishing dessert, they decided to take a walk, same as they did that first night when Jill and Bradley caught them necking. Just a few stars were visible in an otherwise inky-black sky. In the distance, lights from the harbor area and the surrounding islands twinkled like a million fireflies. Hannah never felt like she was falling in love with a guy on the spot. But when Craig took her into his arms and then put his lips to hers, that's exactly what she felt was happening. Music from some romantic opera played in her head. She couldn't remember which one. But that beautiful melody--it had to come from Puccini.

She knew better than to express all her feelings. It was much too early and besides, she had no idea of what the dynamic would be once they returned to the "real world." It didn't matter. What mattered most was enjoying the moment, closing her eyes, letting whatever she shared with Craig flow through her and around her. And hoping that lovely music playing in her head would never stop.