Let's get something else straight. I'm not a one night stand kind of girl. Not that there's anything wrong with those that are, but I've always found myself to be far too quiet, reserved and altogether anxious for that sort of wild abandonment. I wouldn't call it a rule, but perhaps it had been an unspoken one. All of my sexual experience, from my first time with Andy Preacher at age 16 (basement of his parent's house), right up to good old Tiny Dick, had been after quite a good amount of "get to know you" time.

That being said, if "no one night stands" is a rule that I somehow made for myself, then I suppose rules are made to be broken. Especially if you haven't had sex in a month, and your rather persuasive best friend is telling you that you need to "have the time of your fucking life." Mix in the stress of being newly graduated from college without much direction or hope of a lovely, life enriching career, the lingering madness of knowing the man you loved cheated on you, self preservation and a lot of alcohol...and you can easily be nudged in a new direction. A slight loosening of your own personal moral hierarchy.

And it all started with Santos, a white sandy beach and the mention of a bonfire party.

"Are you going to the full moon bonfire party tonight, Emily?" Santos asks, covering himself in sun tan oil. It glistens off his perfectly sculpted, deep tan chest. He sits under a palapa on a lounger, wearing the tiniest pair of swim shorts I've ever seen. I don't even know if I could fit in them. The Dominican sun is harsh and hot around us, and I can feel beads of sweat rolling down between my shoulders blades. I glance over at Emily, who is sitting in the sun in a tiny bikini and a big, oversized straw hat that covers most of her face. She's wearing huge sunglasses, giving her a quite glamorous look. We've all got a pretty good base tan, after five days lounging around in the sun. I don't quite have what you'd call a tan, but my freckles are standing out quite nicely.

"Of course. Are you?" She raises a perfectly sculpted blond eyebrow. She's a sweet girl, and when I arrived at the resort earlier in the week, I immediately recognized her. She's an acting student, and an import from London. It's not uncommon, as the acting program she is in is one of the best.

"No, lovey. I am meeting Olivier at the sunset bar, and he's taking me on his yacht. Gotta make the most of our last two nights in paradise." Santos wiggles an eyebrow at both of us and then cackles, throwing his head back. Leave it to Santos to find a gorgeous, wealthy guy to whisk him away to an even more gorgeous location.

"Amazing." Emily grins. She looks at me. "How about you, Gracie? You've got to come. It's a huge party. There will be so many guys there." She knows about my situation, and between her and Santos, the urging for me to find a fling has been rather relentless.

"I will come for a bit." I nod. Santos whoops loudly, and then smiles.

"Get it." He winks at me and I cringe.

"Doubtful."

"Oh, Gracie girl." Santos groans and stares at me with his wide brown eyes.

"Gracie! You're gorgeous! Don't sell yourself short." Emily sighs and smacks me on the thigh. Santos scoffs and rolls his eyes, then pulls his Ray Bans down.

"Gracie knows she's gorgeous. Guys fall all over her. She looks like a red headed Audrey Hepburn, for god's sake. Like a modern day ballerina fairy." Santos waves his hands around, nearly spilling the fruity drink he has wedged between his knees. I blush and roll my eyes.

"You do have this...ethereal calmness about you." Emily agrees and I scrunch up my nose.

"You're too good for most of the buffoons here, but you need some fun." Santos nudges me and pushes his sunglasses down his nose so he can make eye contact.

"Promise me you'll try tonight. We don't have much time left here. Get that terrible ex out of your system, and have some real fun. Promise me, Grace." He asks, and then reaches forward and grabs my hand. I give him a half smile.

"I'll try, I promise." And I'm not lying. "Believe me, I want to forget Richard more than anyone else here." I sigh. I want to have fun. I'm young. I'm 22. It's time for me to live a little.

"Good girl." Santos seems pleased with my answer, and he sits back, closing his eyes.

"I will be there. My brother is supposed to come in today, but I think his flight is running behind schedule." Emily frowns and checks her phone. Emily is staying with another group of friends, and her brother, for a second week. Europeans take their vacations...or...holidays, very seriously.

"I've still yet to meet your illusive brother." Santos murmurs, his eyes still closed.

"Not many people have met him. He's chronically busy." Emily shrugs and keeps looking at her phone.

"I've been to your house for the last two Christmas' and he hasn't been there." Santos takes a drink. I reach over, taking the suntan oil from him and start smoothing it onto my skin. Santos and I have been friends since high school. He's my closest friend, and the one I've known longest. We come from similar places-similar backgrounds. His parents divorced when he was twelve, and so he was always shuttling between the two of them. They were decent parents, but it wasn't an ideal situation. My parents weren't together either, but I hardly knew my father. I've met him a grand total of five times. My mother was hardly ever around. I talk to her on holidays, sometimes, and that's about it. The last time we talked, she asked me for money.

Santos and I seemed to bond over our similar family situations. We called each other "orphan" because although all our parents were still alive and "around", more often than not we felt like we were alone. It was good to have someone like him around. He always bounces back. He's stronger than anyone I've ever known. He's my family.

"He'll be there this year, I think." Emily shrugs. "But I never can tell with him."

"Mmm, I'll believe it when I see it." Santos looks at me and smiles. "Are you still going to your Aunt's for Christmas this year?" He asks. Christmas is only a month away and with all the drama going on, I've barely thought about it.

"I guess so. I haven't spoken to her." My aunt Tara, my father's sister, is the closest real family I have. And I'm not that close to her. She's married with two bratty kids and her husband who gives me the creeps. He insists on calling me "doll". I see them once or twice a year, and that's about all I need to see them.

"Ladies, I'm going to go back to my room to get ready for tonight. Gracie, maybe I'll see you tonight at the party? I'll send any good guys your way." Emily stands up, wrapping her sarong around her hips.

"Please, I need all the help I can get." I laugh. Emily waves goodbye, and then turns to go back to her room.

"I have a good feeling about tonight, Gracie." Santos smiles at me. "Full moon party. The beach. Paradise! What else do you need?" He opens his arms, gesturing wildly around. I laugh and shrug my shoulders.

"Mr Right, I guess." I answer softly.

"No...no, not Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now." Santos blinks at me, and we both break into a fit of giggles.

****

The details of the party are a little blurry. There is a beach. There is a full moon. There is a bonfire. Everything is as advertised. When I arrive at a little after midnight, I immediately grab the nearest shots I can find and take two of them. The waitress with the tray tells me they are some kind of coconut liquor, but I could care less. It feels strange to arrive at a party alone, and where I know no one, but it also feels freeing. No one knows me. No one knows my hang ups or my past. No one knows I've just been cheated on, and basically dumped. I can be anyone. Anything.

I look around for a bit, getting a feel for the set up. I don't see Emily anywhere, so I just keep drinking. I take another shot, and then I order a mixed drink. The music is blaring, and the bonfire is roaring. People are dancing, and though it is a huge beach, the area where people are dancing is packed. I feel the alcohol go right to my head, and before I know it, I'm swept up in the atmosphere. It's completely intoxicating. The sand under my feet, the light from the silver white moon, the thumping of the music. I'm lost in my own world, dancing with arms in the air, eyes half closed. If my friends back home could see me now. They'd ask if I was on drugs.

That is, until I run smack into someone. I stumble and find myself quickly steadied in the arms of a rather tall, blond, good looking guy. At least I think he could be blond. If he's not blond then his hair is pumpkin orange. The light from the fire and the moon, combined with some sort of party lights, make it hard to really make out his features.

"I'm sorry!" He murmurs into my ear, his mouth close enough that I can feel his lips brush past my ear.

"It's ok." I answer back, trying to remember that tonight I'm not Gracie. I'm someone else. Someone sexy and free, and ready for adventure. Do I sound convincing?

"Are you alright?" He asks, and I realize I am still sort of balanced in his arms. I pull away quickly when I realize this. He is definitely blond. His hair is sort of wavy and long enough to be pushed back from his face and forehead. He has a handsome face, with a broad forehead and a strong, narrow nose. His cheekbones stand out, seeming to reflect light from both the fire and the party lights. He smiles and his whole face lights up. I would place him around my age but when he smiles, he appears much younger.

"I'm fine, thanks." I nod, having to yell a bit over the music. He looks at me, his eyes narrow for a split second, and it's as if he's really studying my face. I blink, and take half a step back.

"Can I get you a drink? It's the least I can do." He smiles and motions to my cup, which I realize I've spilled mostly in the sand when we collided. What the hell, I might as well. I shrug my shoulders.

"Sure. Vodka and water with lemon." I say, standing up on my tiptoes so I can speak to him. He's tall-my head barely comes to his shoulders. He's bare chested, as most of the guys are at the party, and wearing low slung shorts on his narrow hips. He's not particularly buff, but he's lean and has nicely defined muscles. He's attractive in a non-threatening sort of way. It's kind of exactly what I need at the moment. I already feel like I'm about to run the other way if I get even a tiniest bit overwhelmed.

I swallow hard, and he nods and then turns and leads the way toward the bar. As he turns, he takes hold of my hand, holding it gently and casually in his much bigger hand, leading me through the crush of people carefully, as if he doesn't want to lose me.

Ladies and gentlemen, we may have a winner.

Although the bar is crowded like the rest of the party, he gets me my drink quickly, taking my empty cup from my hand and handing me a new, full one. He grins as he tips his cup toward me, and we clink our plastic cups together. I notice his teeth are straight and white. In the fluorescent and black lights, they almost glow.

"What's your name?" He leans down, speaking into my ear. My mind races. I can't tell him my real name. It would break my whole illusion. If I'm going to do this, I need to be someone else completely. Lola. No, too much. Nothing too crazy. Something believable. What exactly is a believable name? I should have thought of this earlier.

"Jamie." I stutter after a second too long. Real smooth. He looks at me for a second, his rather startling eyes searching mine. He pauses for a half moment, and then seems to accept this, the sides of his mouth curling into a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Jamie. I'm Will." He puts a hand out, and we shake as if we are in a business meeting, and not wearing our bathing suits at some crazed party in the middle of the Caribbean.

"Nice to meet you." I can't help but smile. We clink glasses again, and then we both down our drinks.

Two hours, countless songs, and at least three or four vodka waters later, we are still out on the dance floor. We haven't stopped moving. Will is an excellent dancer. Fun, and flirty and just a bit silly. It is most likely the vodka talking, but halfway through one song where the singer is belting out about dancing all night, I grab him and wrap my arms around his neck. He bends down, his lean, strong body rocking against mine. I can feel the pressure and sway of his hips as he presses them against mine, his hands on my hips. It is strange how dancing with someone for a few hours can give you a strange sense of knowing them. Or maybe it is the alcohol. Either way, I feel as if I've known Will my whole life and we've barely said two sentences to each other.

Before I can think too hard, I look up, tilt my head back, and I kiss him. It is what you'd expect a drunk kiss on the dance floor to be like. Messy, passionate and a bit bumbling as people move and bump past us. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him. We're both sweaty, our legs covered in sand, and out of breath, but it is a fantastic kiss. He tastes like the coconut rum we've both been drinking all night. I feel more alive than I have felt in weeks. Perhaps longer than that. It feels cleansing, and invigorating. I'm alive! I can still feel!

We barely pause for air and I pull him closer to me, trailing my mouth up his jawline and to his ear. I can taste the salt on his skin and it's intoxicating. The attraction is there. It's palpable.

"How far is your room?" I ask, channeling my inner "one night stand kind of girl". I am sharing a room with Santos, and though I have a feeling he will be spending the night on a yacht, I don't want to risk it.

"Two minute walk from here." Will answers, his voice husky in my ear. I nod and grab his hand, my heart racing with excitement.

"Let's go." I lick my lips, and he looks at me like I'm a feast. Oh, I am in the best kind of trouble possible.

****

We make out the entire way to his room. He leads me toward the presidential section of the resort, which really is a short walk from the beach party. We half jog, half speed walk down the sandy pathways, clinging to each other and laughing as we kiss and fall into bushes and stumble along the paths. We are already out of breath from dancing, and the kissing isn't helping much either. He grins at me as we come to a stop in front of the small bungalows that line the northern part of the beach.

"Here we are." He fumbles in his pocket for a second before pulling out a keycard.

"Fancy." I say absentmindedly, letting my hands trail a path up his back. His skin is warm and taut under my hand, responsive and muscled. Will opens the door, and then pulls me inside the bungalow. It is a small room, but it's very nice inside. We both sort of take a step backwards when we come inside, as if we're both realizing exactly what is about to happen. His room is neat, and there isn't much evidence that he's been there long. He turns on a lamp, which casts a dim white light through the tidy room. In this normal lighting, I get my first real, good look at him.

He's handsome, that's for sure. But he's also rather approachable looking. He's got a warm, friendly face, and though he's fit, he's not about to win a weight lifting competition. His hair is a bit on the longer side, and it's lays in nearly curly waves around his face. It is a nearly golden blond color, and it goes well with his light eyes. I'd hate to ruin this lovely time with thinking about Richard, but I can't help it. Will is the exact opposite of Richard's dark looks. Will is light, and happy, and seemingly carefree. Richard was dark, with dark hair and eyes and a brooding sort of face. This is a nice change. It is what I need.

We stand across from each other, taking in the other person for a few moments. I can't quite read his expression, but I silently pray he is okay with what he sees. I'm wearing a jewel green bandeau bikini that brings out my forest green eyes and hopefully hides some of the extra fluff I gained from all that Ben and Jerry's.

"Is...everything..." I don't know what to say, and saying 'do you like what you see?' sounds terribly desperate and self conscious and not at all what 'Jamie' would say. I stop myself and swallow, shifting my weight from foot to foot nervously. Pull it together, girl.

"You're gorgeous, Jamie." He says finally, as if reading my mind. I feel a rush of relief flood over me, and then I have a split second to think before we're rushing toward each other. I won't lie, it's a bit bittersweet to hear him call me Jamie. But, it's also a little thrilling. I'm doing it. I'm being spontaneous and sexy! I'm having a one night stand!

We come together quickly and Will picks me up in a surprising move of easy strength. I can't help but squeal softly, but then I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks me toward the bed, kissing my throat and shoulder as he does. His mouth feels amazing. Note to self: Be more like 'Jamie' more often.

"I don't...I don't do this often." I breathe out heavily before I can think.

"Neither do I." He says softly, still kissing my neck as he pauses for a moment. I don't know if he believes me, but I guess it doesn't matter. I don't know if I believe him. He sets me down on the bed, and I settle back onto my arms. Will stands in front of me for a moment, before sliding over me, covering my already nearly naked body with his. We keep kissing, his mouth soft and perfect against mine. His big hands run up my sides, over my hips and stomach and then up to cup my breasts. I moan, my voice strained as I push my head back and run my hands up and through his lovely, soft hair.

"Oh Will. Will." I say his name as he trails kisses up my stomach, then pushes my flimsy bikini top up and over my breasts. He hesitates for a beat as I say his name, and I open my eyes. I'm surprised to find he's looking at my face, and not my bare chest. He looks for a split second like he's going to say something but that seems to pass. He leans down, slowly, brushing his lips over the swell of my breasts. My breath hitches, and I hold still as I watch him take one of my nipples in his mouth. His fingers come up, cupping my breasts toward him. All other thoughts are gone from my mind in a heartbeat. He knows what he is doing, and I am so thankful for that.