Chapter 5: A Creamy Dreamy and Bad Love I dream of dinner and drinks with the lifeguard on my verandah at my bungalow. The evening is perfect with a soft wind, lightning and thunder in the distance, no bugs, and a purple-blue twilight of serenity. We sit across from each other at the two-person table and I study his open cotton shirt. One hard n****e is exposed, part of his plated chest, and two abs. Trent catches my stare, and he asks between roasted salmon bites, “Do you like what you see, Storm?” “What can I say? You’re hot. Cream of the crop sexy. I would rather eat you up for dinner instead of this meal.” “You think I can arrange that?” he asks, staring at me through his bangs. “I think you can,” I answer. What happens is fiery-hot and unplanned. Trent places his fork down on hi