Leo
Miller and I reached the island a few hours later. After the intense, exhausting heat of the sex we had shared on the water, we spent the remaining duration of the trip doing absolutely nothing but eating and sleeping.
I didn't even bother to look out the cabin windows to watch the ocean sunset or the sunrise. I was completely drained—fatigued down to my bones from the endless grind of work and the crushing weight of the pressure waiting for us in the outside world.
By the time the yacht finally cut its engines and pulled up to dock against the wooden pier of the island, dusk had already settled over the water.
A small crowd was already standing on the shore waiting for us, waving custom banners in the dimming light. It was an eccentric welcoming committee: two middle-aged women and one young man, all of them dressed in incredibly bright, flowery tropical shirts that looked almost ridiculous against the isolated landscape.
