My vacation started like any other: carrying my overpacked luggage, mom stressing out about every detail, brother throwing up on the plane, dad getting lost as soon as we leave the terminal. It was our second Christmas in Mexico, and the first one was pretty cool. I had turned 18 two weeks before we left, so I got to drink, but my brother was still too young. But this year, he had a growth spurt so I was able to sneak him drinks no problem. I was excited to explore night life for the first time. The most excitement I got at home was a basement party with some wine coolers stolen from parents. But now, I was in a different country. Mexico was going to be, well, what you’d expect when you go to Mexico.
While playing volleyball on the beach, we met some friends. A fun girl from Chicago named Abby, a handful of cousins from Ohio, and some siblings from Texas. We played each other until we were sun burnt and burnt out. My new friend from Chicago and I decided to take a dip in the ocean and left the boys behind. However, there were more just off in the distance. They were coming out of the water as we were going in, and they were European for sure. Their bright, short bathing suits confirmed it. Not to mention, their cute, ethnic looking faces. They both had piercing blue eyes and blonde hair that any girl would take a human life for. Feeling friendly, I told them I liked their bathing suits. They stopped to talk to us, and their Swedish accents entranced me. Everything they said sounded exotic, borderline erotic.
After our short encounter, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I went to dinner with my family with one eye looking for a glimpse of the Swedish studs. We had made plans with our crew to go out that night, so I got ready for my first foreign night with my new friends, and tried to contain my excitement. Much to my dismay, despite having a great time tearing up the dance floor with Abby and taking shots with my brother, there was no sign of the foreigners.
The next day, Abby and I took a walk on the beach, and who do we run into but the Swedish brothers, sporting the same fun shorts as the day before. This was my chance. I stopped them again and told them about our plans for the night, and we went our separate ways. I spent another dinner anxiously waiting for the night to begin. We got ready, headed to the club, and again, the brothers were nowhere in sight. Disappointed, I drank double what I drank the night before. I was twirling around the dance floor with one of the cousins from Ohio, and when he let go of my hand, I went spinning straight into the arms of another guy. It was one of the Swedish brothers. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. He smiled at me knowingly as I tried to catch my breath, my balance, and my racing thoughts.
“Liam,” he whispered in my ear. I could feel his breath travel down every nerve in my body. He knew what he was doing.
“Jane,” was all I could say.
Liam and I danced for the rest of the night. My brother, Abby, and the rest of the crew had gotten tired and gone home, but I couldn’t let this night end. Liam had come here for me, and I was not going to let that go to waste. Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand, and headed for the door. I was living a real life erotic novel. One of the ones with Fabio on the cover. I felt sexy and scandalous. I sauntered my way out of the club with him, excited to see what was going to happen next.
We walked on the beach on the way back to his room. We talked about the world while it slept. It was just the two of us and the ocean, and that’s all we needed. As soon as the door shut behind us though, the entire mood shift. He went from cool and collected to ravenous. He grabbed my head with both of his hands and kissed me like he had wanted to for years. All I could do was melt onto the bed and let him take control. He crawled on top of me, kissed my collarbone, up my neck, nibbled my ear, and I heard him whisper:
“I’m going to make Swede love to you.”
Wait, did this boy just drop the sexiest pun of all time? Was I wasted, or was he the smoothest motherfucker on the face of the Earth? I have no recollection of how the sex was because the whole time I was trying to figure out if I had heard him wrong. He could have said “sweet love” and my brain wanted to hear “Swede love.” After it was over, I got dressed and snuck back to my room, still unsure of what happened. The only thing I was certain of was that I just had one of the best nights of my life..
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