8. Meiko

"Wow… is that who I think it is?"

Sandra's question draws my gaze from the waves as they crash over the beach toward a volleyball net that has been dug into the sand. More specifically, to the four men we spent all day yesterday with, who today toss the ball back and forth over the top of the net. Fordan, Maui, Dragan, and…

"Mustaf," Lalaine jeers, bumping me suggestively with her hip.

A hot blush rises to my cheeks as I shoot her a distracted glare. It only makes her waggle her brows at me, and the other two soon join in.

"What are the odds that we keep running into them?" Macia wonders.

I shrug, trying to ignore the fact that our path is going to take us right by them. "We are on an island, you know."

"Well, at least we know they can't escape," Sandra jokes, making it more obvious that she intends on heading straight for them.

At that moment, Fordan turns around and catches sight of us. "Well, well," he shouts with a grin, lifting his arms from his sides. "Look who it is."

Mustaf's stare immediately meets with mine, like two magnets drawn to each other with nothing but space in the way. That, and one of the magnets might have some degree of trauma.

"Are you stalking us?" Dragan teases, his attention obviously captured by Lalaine.

"No, we"re just enjoying the beach like everyone else," Lalaine retorts with a playful smirk.

Maui chuckles and waves us over. "Come on, join us for a game of volleyball."

Sandra nudges me again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, why not? I think you lot could use some deflation for those egos, anyway."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore my pounding heart as we approach the net. Mustaf"s gaze never leaves mine, and I can feel the tension between us growing with each step.

Sandra claps her hands together. "Alright, let"s do this. We"ll take on all four of you."

Dragan raises an eyebrow. "All four? Are you sure about that?"

Macia grins confidently. "We"ve got this."

Fordan chuckles and sets up the ball on the sand. "Alright then, let"s see what you"ve got."

The game begins, and it"s clear that these guys are no strangers to the sport. They move with grace and precision, their muscles rippling with every jump and dive. But we hold our own, managing to score a few points thanks to some impressive teamwork.

But it's my friends who are winning us points. I find myself far too distracted by Mustaf as the game progresses. His movements are fluid and powerful, and every time our eyes meet, my heart skips a beat. I can"t help but wonder what it would be like to touch him now that he's shirtless, to feel his skin against mine.

But then, out of nowhere, he spikes the ball directly at me. I"m caught off guard and don"t have time to react before it slams into my chest, sending me sprawling onto the sand.

Mustaf rushes over to me, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, extending a hand to help me up.

I nod, trying to shake off the pain. "Yeah, I"m fine."

He gives me a small smile, his hand lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary. "Good. I didn"t mean to hit you so hard."

"Shit, Mustaf, you're supposed to hit on her, not actually hit her," Fordan jokes as he comes over. "Anyone up for a surf?"

"You're just saying that because you're losing," Macia interjects haughtily.

"Oh, yeah?" he muses, standing closer than necessary. "Worried I'll beat you at something?"

"You're on!" she insists, her competitiveness taking over yet again.

As we paddle out into the ocean, I can feel the anticipation building. The sun is shining brightly, and the water is warm and inviting. Mustaf is a natural on the board, and I watch in awe as he effortlessly catches wave after wave.

Eventually, it"s my turn to give it a try. Mustaf coaches me patiently, showing me how to position myself on the board and how to paddle with the waves. I"m a bit wobbly at first, but with his help, I"m soon able to stand up and ride the waves all the way to the shore.

As we continue to surf, Mustaf"s coaching becomes more hands-on. He helps me adjust my stance, his hands brushing against my hips as he guides me into position. When we catch a wave together, our bodies press against each other, and I can feel the heat radiating off of him.

His skin is hotter than the sun, its warmth inviting and hard to separate from like a cozy bed in the early morning.

I"m not sure if it"s the thrill of the waves or the closeness to Mustaf, but I"m feeling more alive than I have in a long time.

"Not quite as easy as bowling, eh?" he teases.

I give him a look, narrowing my eyes but smirking playfully. "I don't like it easy," I insist.

His gaze travels the length of my body. "Hm. I can tell."

We laugh and splash each other, enjoying the moment and the connection we"re building.

After a day filled with adventure and excitement, our little group heads to a popular beach bar as the sun sets and twilight descends. The music is a siren call, drawing Mustaf and me inevitably closer from among the dancing bodies.

"Dance with me, Meiko," he insists, the sound of my name wrapped in his husky voice too tempting to deny.

As we make our way onto the dance floor, the rhythm of the night envelops us, and we become lost in the beat. Mustaf"s hands are on my hips, guiding me in a sensual dance that feels like a language of its own. Each beat ratchets the tension between us tighter and tighter until it feels like we"re about to burst.

We move in sync, our bodies pressed close together, and I can feel the heat radiating off of him. Our eyes are locked on each other, and I can see the desire in his gaze. It"s intoxicating, and I feel myself giving in to the moment.

As we sway to the music, Mustaf leans in and whispers in my ear. "I want you."

My heart races at his words, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. I lean in closer, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper back. "I want you, too."

His hands tighten on my hips, and we move together to the beat of the music, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. It"s a dance of passion, a dance of desire, and I feel like I"m on the edge of something incredible.

As the night wears on, we continue to dance, lost in each other and the music. The tension between us is palpable, and I can feel myself growing more and more aroused with each passing moment.

As we continue to dance, I feel like we"re the only two people in the world. The music and the crowd around us seem to fade into the background, and all that matters is the connection between us.

Mustaf"s hands are on my waist, guiding me in a slow, sensual dance. Our eyes are locked, and I can feel the heat between us building with each passing moment. It"s as if the air is charged with electricity, and I can feel it crackling around us.

Finally, Mustaf leans in and whispers in my ear again. "Do you want to go somewhere more private?"

I nod, my heart racing at the prospect of being alone with him. He takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor, weaving our way through the crowd until we"re outside.

The night air is warm and humid, and I can hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. Mustaf leads me down the beach, away from the crowds and the noise, until we"re standing in a secluded spot, the moonlight casting a soft glow over everything.

He pulls me close, his arms wrapped around me as we sway together to the rhythm of the waves. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, and it matches the pounding of my own heart.

We stand like that for a moment, lost in each other"s embrace, before Mustaf leans in and kisses me. It"s a slow, tender kiss, full of promise and desire. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him as we deepen the kiss.

When we break apart, I can see the hunger in his eyes, and I know that he wants me as much as I want him. I can't deny it anymore.

Mustaf takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply again, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands roam over my body. I can feel the heat building between us, and I know that I want this as much as he does.

As our kisses deepen, I can feel myself becoming more and more aroused. Mustaf"s hands are underneath my blouse, his warm fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin. The feeling sends shivers down my spine, and I find myself becoming more bold.

I slide my fingers through his dark hair, gripping it as I kiss him harder. He responds in kind, his hands roaming over my body, exploring every inch of me.

"Mustaf…" I say breathlessly.

He growls. "Say it again," he commands.

"Mustaf," I moan louder.

At that, he begins to kiss my neck, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I moan softly, tilting my head back to give him better access. His hands are on my hips, pulling me closer, and I can feel the hardness of his desire pressing against me.

I reach up and unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. He"s built, with broad shoulders and a chiseled chest that makes my heart race. I run my hands over his skin, feeling the warmth and the strength of his body.

Mustaf"s lips return to mine, and we kiss passionately, our tongues tangling together. I can feel myself getting lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of his body against mine.

"If you don't stop," he pants out. "I'm not going to."

I kiss him roughly. "I don't want to stop."