making love.”
“Oh!” Amelia replied. A rosy blush stained her cheeks. “The walls must be very thin.”
“They weren’t in their bungalow,” Michael replied. “They were outside on the beach. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them since they were closer to your bungalow than to mine.”
Her cheeks grew even rosier, indicating that she had likely heard but was too embarrassed to say so. “That must have been awful for you and quite embarrassing.”
“Not really. I’m all for healthy sun and fun.” He chuckled. “I guess they just got a little carried away by the beautiful decor and the gorgeous scenery.” He couldn’t tell her that he’d enjoyed every minute of it, watching through a pair of binoculars the interracial couple frolicking nude on the beach and in the water until they had settled down on the lounger to make love. And there was no way he could tell her how turned on he’d become and that he’d had to give himself a hand-job to get relief. Oh no. If he told Miss Prim and Proper that, she’d think he was a perv and would probably never speak to him again.
“Wow, look at this,” Amelia said as they came upon a heavily populated area of the beach. “I wasn’t expecting to see so many people.”
“Most of them will be leaving tomorrow,” Michael informed her. “Ralph and his people have rented the entire beach to film and photograph the models undisturbed. He’s throwing this barbeque mainly to welcome us and also to say goodbye to the tourists.”
Ralph reminded him a lot of Elton John in his younger days, Michael decided as he waved to him. Ralph was a bit eccentric and dressed flamboyantly, but was a talented craftsman. All of the models were taller than him but he never let his height bother him. He just fitted in no matter where he went.
The designer seemed to have gone all out for the occasion. A disc jockey span records on a make-shift stage, centred between huge billboards that advertised Ralph’s fashion logos and company brand. Three huge barbeque pits were manned by a good-sized crew of veteran chefs who obviously knew their way around a fire. There were several booths passing out beer and soda, a couple of long picnic tables holding condiments and paper products and several portable johns were strategically placed away from the food but close enough to be convenient.
Models danced barefoot in the sand with the guests, while others reclined in loungers, soaking up what was left of the evening sun. Michael waved to a couple of male models he knew as they stood at the end of the beer line. He then changed his mind and instead pulled Amelia behind him towards the food line, planning to keep an eye on her and keep her away from the wolves until they were all safely back in New York. The last thing he wanted was to lose her to some hot young stud after he had put in so much effort to get to be alone with her. He secured a couple of plates and handed one to Amelia.
“Everything looks so good,” Amelia said when they finally got close to the table. “And fattening.”
“Live a little,” Michael replied, sweeping his eyes over her slim frame. “It’s not every day we come to the Bahamas.”
“So true,” she said, scooping fresh fruit and salad on to her plate.
“It’s okay to eat meat,” Michael told her, spearing a Polish sausage and putting it on her plate.
Amelia used both hands to balance the plate. “Ooh, it’s so big,” she replied with a little giggle. “I don’t know if I can eat the whole thing.”
Michael gulped, thinking sinful thoughts about Amelia wrapping her lips around the meat. It was too much for his imagination. “Just give it your best shot,” he replied, adding a sausage to his own plate. “Once you start eating it, you might not want to stop.” They continued down the line until they had filled their plates, then Amelia found them two seats at a vacant table. Michael got up to fetch two cups of beer and then returned to her. He