The Chilling Tide

by T M Bashford

  Colbie appears on the other side of Brett and smacks his arm. “Last I heard, you two were no longer friends.”

  Brett leers and with his free hand, he pulls at the string on Colbie’s bikini. Her top slips, baring her breasts. She doesn’t cover up, but fists the front of his T-shirt, and simply smirks at him. “Unleash Shae or I’ll unleash my karate skills all over you, buddy.”

  “If you’re not going to play nice…” He opens his fist and lets my hair unravel. When he stands, he towers over us, bear-like in both size and nature, and today it’s grizzly bear Brett. He swigs the last of his beer, ogling Colbie as she re-ties her bikini. “’Til next time, Gotta Go Girl,” he says and saunters toward the road.

  Brett

  Shae’s sight has returned. How unexpected. I must change my plans. With Drew nicely removed to Townsville, I had decided to take what I wanted tonight. Watching Shae stretch out on the beach, her bikini barely covering her breasts and muff, the urge to have her flooded through me. It was an unstoppable avalanching river of fire, one that couldn’t be put out without tweaking those pert nipples and biting down on them while plunging myself into her and seeing her eyes pop with my power.

  Before I knew she was no longer blind, the voice in my head told me I could go to her room tonight because she can’t see me anyway. I’m tired of waiting for her. This game is taking too long. I’d made the plan to enter through the French doors as usual, lock her bedroom door from the inside, and take her for myself. Drew’s conveniently away. No one would overhear us. I’d be gone before she could blindly stumble downstairs to fetch Jamison. How could she know who it was? Then I could continue with my long-term scheme to have her fall in love with me.

  But now she can see again, and I mustn’t visit her room anymore.

  As Shae and Colbie return to their dinghy, desire swells and throbs through me. Having her near, her hair wrapped around my hand... I need to bring forward my long game plan.

  My phone pings with a notification telling me Drew has landed in Sydney. I’d downloaded a tracker app to both their phones during one of my nocturnal visits. He’s given up on meeting me in Townsville, then. Did he think I was so dumb as to be baited? The only person doing any baiting here is me.

  But I’m sick of this love triangle. Seeing Shae today—smelling her, touching her hair—has made me impatient. Three’s too many of us for one relationship. One of us must go, and it’s not going to be me.

  Patience isn’t my strong point, but I force myself to wait until I know where Drew goes from the airport. He doesn’t return home to the lovely Shae, but I track him to Vega HQ. How could he put work before Shae? I would never do that to her.

  I head toward his office and park on the side of the road. Security is high here, so I plan to proceed on foot and head him off in the underground parking lot. I pull my hoodie on to hide my face from security cameras and tuck the kitchen knife I’d stolen into the pocket. I’ll avoid getting filmed attacking him on CCTV, but the weapon should force him into my car and he can drive us out of here. No cops. No record of me. Then when we’re somewhere quiet, I’ll enjoy watching the life drain from his eyes—finally. No more love triangle.

  When I spot Drew getting out by the front of the building, I realize he’s caught a taxi from the airport rather than use his chauffeur. I fast march toward him, only three cars ahead of mine. Even better. But as I’m approaching Drew, a tall man in a suit greets him. I dive behind a nearby post box and crouch.

  “I’ve been told what’s happening,” the suit says. “Gavin briefed me after the police interviewed me. I needed to assure you I have nothing to do with this. I came on a bit strong when we first met, but I was being defensive. I should apologize for that. I shouldn’t have said what I did about Anthony. From what I’ve heard, you’re a good man, too, and… and I’d appreciate it if we could be friends. So, I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help with this threat, especially since he’s my blood.”

  Drew considers the guy then smiles. “You’re not responsible for what he does. Shall we go to the Birdcage and talk over a drink?”

  They amble across the road to a restaurant and I curse them both. The feeling that I need to find out what’s going on overwhelms me. Who is the guy, and why is he involved with the police? Is this something to do with me? Maybe Shae reported me after the beach meet up today. I let them go ahead and decide if I buy a baseball hat, that and my beard will be enough of a disguise to allow me to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  Feeling dumb in a hat with a koala on the front, I’m grateful the bar they’ve settled in is dark and that I’m wearing black jeans and a dark shirt. I sit in a booth with my back to them, just as Drew’s telling the story about how his father died.

  That was meant to be you, not your father.

  “And you were thrust into the media spotlight overnight,” the suit says.

  “I was. My father hadn’t yet taught me what I needed to know, and it was a tough transition—still is.”

  “I’m here to help in any way I can. I know I came on strong before when I came to your house, but… well, I was on the backfoot and that’s not somewhere I’m good at being. But put yourself in my shoes. I’ve had to fight to be heard and taken seriously for months, and I arrived at your home ready for another battle. I sincerely apologize. I deserved every word your fearless friend said to me.”

  “She’s become more than a friend. I’m going to marry that amazing woman if it’s the last thing I do.” They both chuckle and I want to vomit. I crush the beer mat in my hand.

  “I’d be happy to take you up on your offer to help,” Drew continues. “I’ve seen you in action and read over your proposals with Gavin and—well, you make a lot of sense. My father would approve of you being a part of the company he built.”

  “I am sorry I never met him. I’m sorry it took his death for us to meet, too.”

  “It’s never too late to welcome you to the family—and the business. I have a proposition for you, in fact. One that could make sense for both of our careers.”

  Sick of this mutual admiration-fest, I leave them in the bar before I do actually vomit.

  Shae

  Drew is back from his business trip and my eyesight is almost a hundred percent. I wait for him in the White Room, aware it’s the first time I’ll see him—other than the blur four days ago—in three months. I’m impatient to drown in his eyes, to let them paint me with sunshine. I’m fidgety and walk onto the deck, ear buds in, to finish my audio book. Soon, I’ll read again.

  Boomer sits at my feet, as usual. Below, the yachts jostle on their moorings, and I observe people motoring in and out and enjoy the last of the day’s sunrays on my skin. Maybe Drew and I can go sailing on Sassy tomorrow.

  A strong pair of arms wrap themselves around me. The scent of fresh limes fills my nostrils.

  “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to come home to,” Drew growls.

  My body has been jump-started after a long winter in the garage and it purrs with anticipation. I rotate inside his embrace and a dazzling smile rushes to his lips. He picks me up and swings me around. I laugh and when he releases me, he maps my face with serious steel-blue eyes. My legs become fluttering ribbons.

  “You can see me clearly?” he asks.

  I nod and his expression jams with happiness. He kisses me, a short one. “I’m home and I’m not going anywhere.” This time he kisses my mouth open, crushing my body to his. I decide then and there not to tell him about bumping into Brett until tomorrow. Tonight, is about us.

  Our kiss becomes more heated and just when I want to take off his suit jacket, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me into the hall. “I have something special to show you,” he says.

  Jamison emerges from the kitchen. On observing us, he spins on his heels back behind the padded door, making me giggle.

  Upstairs, instead of turning left to his or my suite, Drew goes right and walks along a corridor to a door which has always remaine
d closed. He puts me down before standing aside for me to go in. It’s a spectacular space because of the huge circular bed in its center, and the wall of windows that curve around the room and overlook an incredible harbor view and Sassy Jam. A fire dances in a hearth big enough for a family of four to sit inside. But the feature grabbing my attention is the round skylight above the bed, bigger than the bed itself.

  “For stargazing,” Drew says. “The room has always reminded me of a donut, with the circular window as the hole in the middle. When I was little, I’d cuddle with my mom and we’d gaze at the stars and sometimes the lightning before bedtime. Back then, I didn’t know what each star was called.”

  “This was your mom and dad’s room then?” I walk farther in. “Wow. Who lit the fire?” The flickering light creates shadows on the walls.

  “Jamison.” Drew guides me over to the bed. “I thought this could be our room.” His eyes are hooded, and his words spark through me like electric shocks, making me instantly wet. He takes off his suit jacket, then moves onto the bed and rolls onto his back. He beckons to the space beside him and we lie down and map the blue and pink heavens—puffy clouds scud across the early evening sky like tumbleweed on a windy day.

  “I wish we could stay in this moment forever,” he says, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek. “No outside world. Just us.”

  “It’s all I want, too.”

  He rolls onto his side and kisses me softly. I push my fingers through his hair and his tongue becomes more demanding. I’m wondering how to remove his shirt and tie when he chuckles into my mouth and stands. He watches me as he undresses.

  “I’m glad you only have those skimpy shorts and a tank top on,” he says, his voice a rumble through a sexy grin. I begin to unbutton my shorts, but he says no. “I want to peel them off myself.”

  First, he reveals his body to me, one item of clothing at a time. When he removes his boxers, he’s long and hard and my body tightens with anticipation. He climbs next to me, immediately slipping the string of my tank top from my shoulder and capturing the skin there with a kiss.

  “We’ve had so many lost chances,” he says between light kisses across my neck, “and times when I’ve let you slip away.” I’m adrift in sensation when he nips my ear and slides my tank top down, exposing my breasts. His fingers find a nipple. “Since the day I met you, we’ve been apart for most of the time, and it’s felt as if I’m hurtling through a black hole. Or like I’m holding my breath.” He shifts his mouth to my other breast so both nipples are pinched and nipped. “Then when you’re here, when you’re with me, there’s enough air to breathe and the world makes sense again. You stop the hurtling.”

  He lifts his head to kiss my lips gently, lovingly, a palm cupping my jaw. “All I need is right in front of me.” Everything stops for a moment. The flock of emotions crossing his face surprises me; they flicker quickly and I can’t name them all.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “No more running.”

  “I love you, Shae. I love you so much.” His voice is raspy, his eyes flash with fire, sparks from a flint.

  I capture his gaze. Those three little words hold so much hope. Like the three blossoms I’d seen when I was stranded in the doldrums. Or thought I had seen, before they vanished. But my love for Drew is not going to disappear.

  “I love you,” I say. “I love you, too.”

  He brushes his lips across mine in the soft way he does, the way that drives me crazy. I smile against them, repeating the three words against his lips.

  His arms pulling me against him, his kisses are slow and tender, as if we have all the time in the world, and I guess we do. I try to control the rushing blood inside my body, keeping it at a heated simmer. Eventually, he moves onto his knees, tugging me with him, and unbuttons my shorts. He watches as he pushes them and my tank top all the way off, then my panties. He wraps himself around me again, bending to caress my lips lightly. His hips and hard-on rub against my belly while he strokes the crook of my back and across my thighs. My breath becomes rapid as I respond to his touch. I push against him. He kisses me more urgently, his one arm clamping me against his body as the other traces the side of my breasts, my waist, my hips, my butt.

  “Did I ever tell you that when I draw a woman, I see all the scoops of flesh and they produce the framework of the drawing?” Drew’s question breaks the heated hush between us. He skims the scoop of my waist. “So, I have a thing for scoops of flesh.” His voice is low and husky as he comically raises his eyebrows up and down. The firelight from the bedroom fire dances over his features.

  I laugh. “It sounds cannibalistic.”

  “When I hear it out loud, you’re right, it does.” He settles back, pulling me with him, but props himself on an elbow. “Let me show you instead.” He browses a knuckle along my neck from behind my ear and his finger circles the top of my shoulder then slides to my collar bone. He’s lost in thought while my heated skin leaps to attention.

  “This is one of my favorites—from your shoulder. See how my fingers descend to your clavicle. This hollow is a scoop of flesh, like the concave of a spoon.” I home in on his lips as he speaks and long to kiss them. “The most obvious one is the scoop along the curve of a woman’s hips from the rib cage into the waist and out again to the hips.” His palm scoops down the side of my body to illustrate, grazing my breast. My nipple puckers. “Or the neck—as it joins the collar bone, that’s another obvious hollow.” He shows me with his fingertips then kisses it. Next, he fits his thumb into the dent at the base of my throat. “This is the smallest one.” He kisses me there.

  “You’ve already checked, have you?”

  “Yeah. I’ve already checked.” Our eyes map each other’s faces and the pulse deepens between my legs.

  He lifts my leg and pushes a balled fist in the scoop behind my knee. A rush of cool air reaches my exposed sex. “Behind the knee is another one.” Then he brings my foot to his lips as he kisses my ankle bone, right over the sea eagle tattoo. His thumb strokes the curve of my ankle, then under my foot at the arch, which he also kisses. My body thrums.

  “But my personal favorites are near the ribs and belly. He sits more upright, places a hand on the edge of my rib cage. His fingers curl over them to my stomach. Then he uses a finger like a pencil to follow the line from the rim of my ribs to my belly button. He bends to kiss me in the nook. “And the hip bone.” He circles my protruding hip, then carves along the scoop toward the silky hair between my legs. When his lips kiss the indent there, I gasp and rivulets of heat spray through my pelvis.

  I shut my eyes and his mouth is on mine.

  He’s gentle and tender as we touch each other. Our bodies press together, and he replaces his lips on my mouth with a thumb that brushes along my bottom lip. “We could just carry on this way all night,” he whispers.

  I grasp his thumb and kiss the fleshy part of it. “If you don’t make love to me right now, I might explode.” His eyes widen and flicker with heat.

  He reaches into the drawer beside him and fiddles with a foil wrapper.

  Facing each other, my breath becomes thin and fast and when he captures my mouth again, I wrap a leg around his waist, opening to him. His fingers slide to their heated target, which is already throbbing and glossy with moisture. They dance in and out of me, flicking and sliding, his thumb always pressing and circling. He’s maddeningly gentle so the build of orgasm is slow but intense. When I pull out of our kiss to grab air and groan, he rolls between my legs and thrusts inside of me.

  I clasp him closer, whirlpooling in wave after wave of ecstasy as he drives deeper, and I’m gripping around him, pulsing without letting up. When my sex finally stops throbbing, and I can open my eyes again, he slows his pace; the world becomes our rhythmic breaths as we watch each other react to the sensations we’re sharing. A crescendo of exquisite pleasure builds and takes my breath away. My eyes roll back as he plunges deeper until I’m throbbing in ongoing sets of bliss; reality recedes to the
edges of my consciousness, and he is mine and I am his, lost in a people-less world on the other side of the sunset.

  Afterward, we lie entwined on the bed, facing each other, the flickering of the fire the only light. There are no words; everything we have to say is in our eyes. After a while, Drew strokes my face and down my neck. I brush the skin along his shoulders. My body is soft and relaxed, like liquid mercury. The room has become somewhere without any concept of time.

  “If I could draw, and I was drawing you,” I say, sounding sleepy. “Is it all about angles rather than scoops?”

  “Sounds right.”

  I trace the line of his cheekbone to his chin. “Like this one.”

  “You’ve checked my angles, have you?”

  “I have.” He curls his hand over mine, turns to kiss the inside of my palm, and then his mouth is kissing me again, hungrier and harder than before, his appetite for me awake once again.

  We make love and talk all night. Neither of us waste a moment by sleeping. At some point, Drew fetches a cheese and fruit platter Jamison left for us in the fridge. We settle on the rug by the fire, never far from touching each other. We soon get distracted from the food and the cheese melts into liquid pools on the plate.

  Drew

  The sun is telling us to get up, but we ignore it and I lie naked, spooning Shae as she goes back to asleep. All I can think about is how one life with her is never going to be long enough. I still can’t believe she finally told me she loves me. It meant so much, after everything.

  We sleep until two in the afternoon and when we wake, Shae stretches next to me and I stroke her flat, smooth tummy. A bomb of desire discharges inside me and I could go again, but the brain part of me thinks it’s time for a change of scenery. We should celebrate as today is Shae’s birthday. Besides, we have all night. I force myself to take a cold shower instead.