He is lying on his stomach, tanning his back. My dark sunglasses allow me to observe him freely, lingering on some of the more enticing spots, while pretending to read a magazine. His smooth skin, the curve of his back, waist, ass… And his arms. His head resting on those arms. I love every part of him, I really do, but his arms are another story. They are impressive when covered, but nothing could prepare me for the first time I saw them in their full glory. I already had a little crush on him, well, fancied the pants of him more like. But then when I saw those arms, I had the strongest urge to just throw myself into them, hiding, snuggling, feeling safe.

I let my mind wander back to the first time he held me in those arms. It was that first night, after Bushra's party. I remember being desperate, knowing I had hurt him, wanting him to know how I felt, but incapable of actually saying it. I was going to just leave, but then he grabbed me, touched me. Bolts of electricity were shooting up and down my arm, through my entire body.

And then he looked at me. Before I could stop myself, I was leaning into him. I could see a flash of realisation hit him just before our lips met. And then all I can remember is a whirlwind of sensations, touching, kissing, licking, fondling, caressing, fucking… All ending with me, satisfied in a way I had never experienced before, lying in his bed, embraced by those arms. Only for a moment I allowed myself to be there, feel safe, feel… loved. And then the fear hit me. I knew, if I didn't make my escape immediately, I would never be able to leave. So I mumbled my excuses and was out the door within seconds.

But these days, I just linger. I can lie in his arms for hours, him holding me tight. Nothing can get to me when I'm in his arms. I wish I could be the sort of person that would just get up, join him on his sun lounger and cuddle up to him. The beach club we've rented these sun beds from is pretty gay friendly, so that's not what is stopping me. Longingly, I trace the shape of his body with my eyes.

'Will you stop that'

He startles me.

'What?'

'Stop looking at me like that'.

'Looking at you like what? And who says I was even looking?' I try innocently.

'Looking at me like you want to join me over here and feel me up. And don't even try and deny it. I felt those probing eyes all over me, your glare is hotter then the sun today!'

Busted!

'Since when do you mind me looking at you anyway? If you don't want people looking at you, then why do you wear those ridiculously small speedo's? I don't think it was just my hot stares you felt checking you out by the way. Every girl walking past here can't keep their eyes of you, not to mention some of the guys. That last one looked back three times. The bloody cheek!'

'Yeah, well, it isn't their hot glares that are getting me into trouble. As you just pointed out, I'm wearing rather small speedo's here, and I would like to be able to turn around on my back at some point. You know, without scaring little children…'

O-my-god. He is actually embarrassed. Christian Clark is embarrassed! I cannot believe this. O, how I will tease him with this for years to come! Is he… Yes, he is actually blushing! I'm loving this!

'Isn't it about time for your siesta?' I ask with a smirk on my face.

'You know that it is', he says through gritted teeth.

'Tell you what, I'll just give you some time to, uhmmm… recover, and I'll meet you back at the apartment. You just… take your time sweetie'

I get up, gather my things and take a quick look around. Satisfied that no one is watching us, I give his ass a little slap, and hurry off. I can hear his mumbled curses following me. I know I have some time to kill before Christian will be able to join me. Grinning, I take my time walking back to our apartment. I stroll along the beach, enjoying the feeling of the sand between my toes, the sun on my back, the soft sea breeze through my hair.