McKayla's Miracle Revisited
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2011 by HLD

Twenty years. That's how long it had been since I last saw him.

We met at a party for a mutual friend. I was 22 and single, having just moved to the beach after graduating from college and starting my job less than a month before.

Travis was 24 and almost everything a girl like me wanted: charming, polite, well-dressed. And pretty. Actually, he was gorgeous. Sandy blonde hair, blue eyes. He was built lean like a distance runner, with strong, tight muscles that could really fill out a pair of jeans.

He could also be kind of a jackass. Yeah, I know that doesn't sound very endearing, but back when I was young, that's the kind of guy I wanted. Or at least I thought that was the kind of guy I wanted.

Among his other endearing qualities, he was unfailingly gentlemanly, at least to me. Arrogant? Yes. Full of himself? Definitely.

Yet from the first moment I lay eyes on him, I was in heat. I just knew I had to have him. It was a birthday party for someone we both knew. That is to say, I was new to the area and tagging along with my friend Bretlynn.

I remember the instant his charm took hold of me. He was standing around, talking with some other guys. It was just before Memorial Day, which was—and still is—a big deal out at the beach. It meant the summer tourist season was about to start and would go on until Labor Day. That in turn signaled the beginning of traffic jams, out-of-town license plates, idiots asking for directions and all that.

It was also the reason why we had negligible property taxes; the tourists and their hotel occupancy surcharges, rental car fees and sales taxes paid all of that for us. All things being equal, the locals would trade three and a half months of inconvenience for eight and a half months of relative calm and absurdly low taxes.

Travis looked over at me. Our eyes met and he winked. My heart fluttered. I felt like I was in high school again. Bretlynn introduced us and he was in full-on charm mode. We didn't hook up that first night, but he did get my number.

For the record, I never thought of Travis as anything more than a fling. If anything, he would have been my rebound. My old college boyfriend and I broke up at the beginning of my senior year because he couldn't keep his dick out of the girl who lived in the apartment right below us. I kicked him out and tried to ignore them whenever our paths crossed. I did call the police on them a couple of times when the smell of dope came wafting out of an open doorway or window. Pigfuckers.

After graduation, my uncle made a couple of calls and got me a job through a friend of a friend at the beach. I think I was making something like twelve bucks an hour, which at the time was pretty good money. With the ink on my diploma still wet, I was the office manager for an adult beverage distributor, which meant I always had access to booze and I didn't have much by way of expenses. I worked 40 hours a week ... well, I was there for 40 hours a week. I actually worked for only about twenty of those. My office job was crazy-easy, and if my boss had wanted to, he probably could have hired someone part time at two-thirds my rate. But after a little while, I knew where everything was and all of the reports and invoices were taken care of on time.

The rest of my time was spent shopping for shoes on the internet, stalking my friends, first on MySpace then on Facebook, and, as often as not, nursing a hangover from the night before. All things being equal, those were good times in my life. I had no responsibilities, a little bit of extra cash to go out, and enough youthful exuberance not to care about the consequences of my actions.

I'd like to say that the first time Travis and I were together was a sweet, romantic date that involved flowers, gentlemanly door-opening and fine dining, but the truth of the matter is that I saw him at one of my usual watering holes (read: dives), he gave me that look, my nipples crinkled up, he said something like "Your ass is effing awesome", and next thing you know, we were in his car making out.

We rushed back to his apartment, he stripped me down and we fucked like rabbits until dawn. Well, maybe two or three times. Neither of us were cuddlers, but he did ask me to spend the night with him. When the sun came up, he drove me to my car and gave me a glowing post-coital kiss.

Yeah, I know it's not the stuff of fairy tales, but I was 22 and horny as hell. Plus, he was good in bed. Well, that's not quite right. He was fan-fucking-tastic.

Out of bed ... not so much. He liked to talk about himself. He was one of those guys who would tell you how much he made (which was no insubstantial amount) and how many languages he could speak (three) in the same breath. Just by looking at him, you could tell he put a lot of time and energy into his appearance. He had more watches than I had earrings. He was 24 years old, drove a Lexus, and if not for our physical connection, I probably never would have given him a second thought because he was so full of himself.

Still, there was just something about him. My body couldn't say "no" to him. His touch was electric. The looks he gave me made me want to peel my clothes off on the spot.

So we became fuck-buddies. He was always nice, but we only went on actual dates a couple of times. He was quick to pick up the tab, he never took me to any place cheap and I never got the feeling that if I said "no" when it was time to get busy, that he would do anything so crass as resorting to getting me drunk to get into my pants. But there just wasn't that rapport between us. We didn't really talk about anything that couples talk about, and aside from his magic penis, I didn't have any interest in truly getting to know him.

Usually, one of us would call the other and say something like, "Hey, feel like getting naked?" and then half an hour later, we'd end up doggie style over the arm of the couch.

Life was good and this went on for a couple of months. We didn't have a schedule and we weren't exclusive. But we were great in bed together.

That summer dragged into fall, then winter and then spring again. Our relationship, such as it was, continued until the next May, when my birthday rolled around. Travis had made a big deal out of his plans for us. I was going out with some of my girlfriends for my actual birthday, so he cooked something up for the weekend before.

 
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