The Longest Holiday

by Paige Toon

  ‘Thanks, baby.’ She takes a sip and then stares at him, incredulous. ‘Water? You got me water, Leonardo?’

  ‘If you want something else, you can get it yourself,’ he bites back.

  The look on her face . . . The look on his! Her body language changes to become more aggressive, almost like she’s squaring up to him. He stands his ground, staring her down, but the expression on his face is actually quite frightening: dark and dangerous, but still somehow very, very sexy.

  ‘Screw you,’ she spits, throwing her glass of water at his chest before spinning on her heels and storming out.

  Leo brushes the water off his T-shirt in disgust.

  ‘Bitch,’ he mutters angrily, and it’s a bit of a shock to hear him speaking about a woman like that, even one who’s just drenched him.

  ‘Welcome back to Miami,’ Drew says sarcastically.

  ‘And you wonder why I was in no rush to return?’ Leo asks him as one of the bartenders shouts out his name.

  ‘You can’t hide from her forever,’ Drew replies as the bartender throws Leo a black shirt.

  ‘What . . . What happened between you?’

  Leo looks surprised when I ask this question, almost like he’d forgotten I was there. He glances at Drew and then whips off his wet T-shirt. A group of girls nearby begin to whoop. Leo glares at them with a look that would stop traffic and I quickly shut my mouth as he pulls on the fresh short-sleeved shirt and irately buttons it up. It has the name of the bar stitched in small white letters in the top right-hand corner, but, as uniforms go, he looks hot in it. I wonder if he works here. He wrings out his T-shirt and stuffs it into his pocket.

  All this action hasn’t hidden the fact that my question has gone unanswered, so I ask it again. Drew replies.

  ‘She’s crazy, Laura, don’t worry about her.’ He tries to brush me off.

  ‘What do you mean, crazy?’

  ‘Crazy.’ He makes circles with his forefinger at the side of his head.

  ‘Clinically insane?’ I ask, unwilling to let it go.

  ‘She’s just a bit screwed up,’ Drew says. ‘Obsessed with Leo. She’s uncontrollable on a few drinks.’

  ‘How long were you together?’ I ask Leo this question directly.

  It’s a moment before he replies, and then it’s unhappily. ‘Not quite a year.’ He doesn’t want to talk about this.

  I suck in my breath. ‘That long?’

  ‘Too long,’ he says.

  Drew explains. ‘She wouldn’t take no for an answer, wouldn’t let him call it off.’

  ‘Looks like she still doesn’t want to take no for an answer,’ I comment.

  Leo slams his beer down on the bar. ‘We’ve got an early start tomorrow,’ he says to me.

  ‘You’re not going?’ Drew exclaims in dismay.

  ‘Sorry, buddy. We’ll catch a taxi.’

  ‘No!’ he laments. ‘Come on! Laura,’ he turns to me, pleading, ‘there’s this really cool bar you have got to see. You’ll come with me, won’t you?’

  ‘Maybe some other time,’ Leo interjects, and then my hand is in his and he’s pulling me through the crowds and out onto the street before I can even say goodbye. I’m too taken aback to do anything other than follow him, and then he drops my hand, leaving me wanting. He hails a taxi, opening the door for me and climbing in afterwards. My head is spinning. I’m not really sure what just happened to our night, but I have no idea what to say. Leo stares out of the window, not saying anything, either. He still seems furious and I don’t really know how to react. It’s only when we’re back inside the apartment and he’s dragging a sleeping bag down from the wardrobe in his bedroom that I find my voice.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask from the doorway. The room doesn’t feel as small as it did earlier – maybe it’s the alcohol, humming through my veins.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he says shortly, making to move past me. I press my back up against the wall so he can. He pauses when he’s right in front of me, the bulk of his body taking up all the space it can without actually touching me. Goosebumps form on my arms. I look up at him and his dark eyes burn into mine, making me hold my breath. ‘Get some sleep,’ he says suddenly, moving away. It’s only when I’m safely inside his room with the door shut that I can breathe again.

  We barely speak on the drive back to Key West. I doze off, thankful that my mind is no longer racing. Just a few short hours ago all my nerve endings were on edge, knowing that Leo was in the next room, wanting him to burst through my door and ravish my body. His sheets smelled of him, his pillows, too. Thoughts of him consumed me all night long and I don’t think I have ever felt so turned on. I realise, as I fall in and out of consciousness, that Matthew has barely entered my thoughts all weekend. I feel nothing when I think of him. I’m dulled to him, muted. Right now it’s all about Leo.

  When we’re approximately forty-five minutes away from Key West, Leo pulls off the road. I sit up, sleepily.

  ‘I need a coffee,’ he says. ‘You hungry?’ It’s pretty much the most he’s said to me this entire journey.

  ‘A little,’ I reply, as my stomach grumbles its own reply.

  A waitress seats us at a table on the deck. The air is warm and muggy, but it feels good to be outside. I gaze at the small marina filled with medium-sized boats moored up at jetties, and study the mail boxes outside the houses, some of them fashioned in the shape of colourful fish. I’m tempted to buy one to take home with me. Not that I have a house with a mail box. We live in a flat.

  Leo stretches back in his seat. He looks very far away. The waitress brings our coffees over and he leans in and cradles his cup in his hands, his tanned forearms resting on the table between us. For the first time I notice the dark circles under his eyes.

  ‘You look tired,’ I comment.

  ‘Didn’t sleep much last night.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  We meet each other’s eyes for about three seconds which seem to last much longer. He breaks away to blow at the steaming liquid. I try to think of something to say.

  ‘Drew seemed pretty pissed off we left early last night’ is what I settle on.

  ‘Yeah.’ Leo tuts and gives me a look.

  ‘What?’ I ask him with a grin.

  ‘He wasn’t pissed I left early; he was pissed you did.’

  ‘What?’ I scoff. ‘What are you going on about?’

  ‘You know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘No, I don’t!’ Although I sort of do.

  He gives me a look that tells me he can see straight through me. I shake my head and try to act nonchalant.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t interested, anyway.’

  He takes a sip of his drink. ‘I did tell him you were married.’

  ‘Did you? When?’

  ‘On the phone before we went to Miami.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ I’m desperate to know exactly what Leo said about me. ‘What else did you tell him?’

  He shrugs. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Nothing?’ I frown. ‘But you thought the marriage bit was important?’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ he asks with a direct stare.

  I shift in my seat and try to hide behind my cup. ‘I doubt I’ll be married for much longer.’

  He stares out at the marina and I gather the conversation is over, so I’m surprised when he speaks again.

  ‘Do you really think it’s over?’

  God, the look in his eyes. My head begins to tingle. I swallow, but my voice still comes out sounding like a whisper.

  ‘Yes.’

  There is no denying the sexual tension between us this time, and I know he can feel it, too. I have an almost unbearable urge to climb over the table and kiss his lips, but now is not the time or the place.

  The car is so charged with electricity on the next leg of our journey that the engine could almost be powered by it. When we climb out of the car, he doesn’t meet my eyes. He gets our bags out of the boot and follows me through the yard. The door is shut, which is unusual a
s the others tend to leave it open when they’re in. Leo unlocks it and I don’t quite move far enough away, so his arm brushes against mine, sending shivers up and down my body. I can’t bear this for much longer.

  The house is silent, empty. We’re alone. I stare at Leo, willing him to look at me, to give me some sign. But he goes straight to the stairs. On autopilot I follow him up. He obviously expects me to tail off to my room, so, when I don’t, he glances back at me with confusion. I give him a look and walk past him to the second set of stairs. I’m halfway up before I glance over my shoulder to see him still standing at the bottom. His expression is torn. I continue up the stairs and push open his door.

  There’s a double mattress on the floor – no bed base – with dishevelled cream-coloured sheets and two pillows, dented with the outline of his head. His curtains are drawn, so the light is dim, but I can just make out the ever-present dust motes gliding through the air. He has posters on his walls of old Cuba, and a rail for his clothes to hang on. Most are slung over the top of the rail and on a chair, not hanging, just thrown where he’s taken them off. It smells of him, dark and musty, woody with cigar smoke. It smells of sex. He hasn’t had a woman here since I’ve been here. But it smells of sex – the sex I absolutely have to have with him. I hear his footsteps on the stairs and then he’s standing right behind me. I can hear his breathing and it matches mine, short and sharp and fierce with desire. I crave his touch, his lips on my neck, but nothing happens. I turn around to face him. His features are taut, his chin tilted up and away from me, but his eyes stare down at me, flashing in the low light. I want him so much. I reach up and touch his face.

  ‘No.’ His voice sounds harsh, but he doesn’t push me away.

  Feeling stung, I let my hand drop, but I can’t give up. Won’t give up. I’m desperate for him to kiss me.

  ‘You have a husband.’ His breathing is laboured.

  ‘Not for much longer.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You’ll go home. Things change. How you feel about him . . .’

  ‘I’ll never forgive him,’ I say fervently as I place my hand on his chest. It’s firm under my touch. How I want his T-shirt off . . .

  ‘Laura. Stop.’ It’s him saying my name that makes me realise I can do anything but. I place my other hand on his chest and slide both of them upwards to his neck, warm under my touch. He resists when I try to bring his face down to mine, but I stand up on tiptoes and look him right in the eyes. I can smell him from here, the warmth of his breath, the citrusy smell of his shower gel. For a moment I think he looks scared, but I hesitate only a second before my lips are on his. He’s frozen under my touch, his lips firm and unrelenting. I pull away, but only by a few inches as I gaze up at him.

  ‘Leo, don’t tell me to stop.’

  His eyes are filled with pain. I bring one hand around and touch it to his clenched jaw, and then I press my lips back to his, willing his to open, to kiss me back. I lightly trace his lips with my tongue and I think that’s what breaks him because his sudden sharp inhalation sucks the breath out of my mouth and then his rough hands are in my hair, pulling me to him as his lips crush mine. I gasp for air and kiss him back. My hands are up inside his T-shirt and I pull it over his head before doing the same to my dress. He hikes me up so I have to wrap my legs around his waist and then he presses me up against a wall and kisses my neck. I think I’m in heaven. I want this man so much – and I can feel how much he wants me, too. I push him away and tackle his shorts, desperate to remove all barriers between us. We fall down to the bed.

  In the back of my mind I realise I have no condoms and I think I’ll cry if he doesn’t either, but before I can ask his hand is in a bedside drawer, rummaging around.

  ‘Fuck!’ he curses, then breathes a sigh of relief as his fingers find what he’s looking for. Moments later he’s ready for me, and I’ve never felt more ready for him, for anyone. He stares deep into my eyes as he sinks into me, and then my back is arched, my neck stretched, my mind delirious.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he says harshly and they shoot open, meeting his stare, dark with desire. He kisses my lips passionately before cupping my face, his thumb stroking my brow, reminding me to look at him. And then we begin to move together, and it’s the most intense sex I’ve ever had, peppered with ardent kisses, but mostly just locking eyes until that final moment when I let go and scratch my fingernails hard down his back. He shouts out in ecstasy laced with pain before collapsing on me, both of us panting heavily.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips to his neck, which is damp with sweat, as I try to get my breath back.

  He recovers before I do, meeting my eyes before rolling off me. ‘You’re going to kill me,’ he says in a low, warning voice. I don’t know how to respond, but I know I don’t want to let him go so I twist towards him and lay my head on his chest. A moment later his arm curls around me and he holds me tightly. We stay like that until we both fall asleep.

  I’m still in his arms when I awake, and I lift my head slightly to gaze at him. He’s fast asleep, his features softer and more innocent than I’ve seen them. I trace my forefinger across his eyebrow and he starts suddenly, his eyes opening to look at mine. His intense expression returns instantly, and I regret for a second that I’ve woken him. I press my lips to his, and he hesitates only a moment before kissing me back. We’re still unclothed under the crumpled bed sheets and I manoeuvre my body so I’m lying partially across him. It’s blissful feeling his naked body against mine: skin on skin as we kiss. He brings me up so I’m on top on him and once more I can feel his desire. I hope he has a decent stash of condoms, because I have no intention of leaving his room anytime soon.

  It’s early evening before we hear the others return from wherever they’ve been all day. We’ve dozed in and out of sleep all afternoon, having sex in between. I lift my head and touch my hand to Leo’s neck. He regards me with not quite as much of his usual intensity.

  ‘Do you think they’d notice if we never went downstairs again?’ I ask.

  He smiles at me and quickly kisses my lips. ‘I’m hungry.’

  He gets out of bed and I watch furtively as he pulls on some boxer shorts, followed by his shorts and T-shirt from earlier. I let out a small sigh of discontent as I say goodbye to his glorious nakedness.

  ‘Your turn.’ He holds his hand down to me and I stand up, feeling more self-conscious now that he’s dressed.

  I pull on my knickers, followed by my bra and then he passes me my dress. I turn and check my appearance in a small mirror on his old-fashioned dresser – not unlike the one downstairs in my room. I notice his cigar case on top, and smile as I wipe a damp finger underneath my eyes to brush away some errant mascara. I turn to face him and he walks forward, pulling me back into his arms. He holds me tightly for a few seconds, his warm breath in my hair as I press my face against his chest. I suddenly have an almost overpowering urge to cry. I quickly swallow the lump in my throat and pull away, but I’m reluctant to leave this room. He takes my hand and leads me to the door, only dropping it to jog down the stairs. I follow him disconsolately.

  ‘You’re back!’ Jorge exclaims when we appear in the kitchen, his eyes flitting between us, his brow creasing as he processes the fact that we came downstairs together. ‘How was it?’ he asks, trying to sound casual, but failing. Or maybe it’s just my imagination that he’s noticed anything wayward in the first place.

  ‘Good,’ I respond weakly.

  ‘Got what we went there for,’ Leo adds.

  ‘You got your computer?’ Jorge asks, turning to attend to the plastic bags full of shopping on the counter.

  ‘Yep,’ I reply, going to help him unpack.

  ‘All set up?’

  ‘No, no, no.’ I brush him off. ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m cooking tonight,’ he tells me.

  ‘Urgh,’ Leo groans.

  ‘You want some help?’ I ask.

  ‘Sure. You can chop a couple of onions for me if
you like.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Leo leans against the counter next to me. I smirk at him as I unpack the shopping. ‘Are you going to help, or what?’ I ask cheekily.

  ‘Wasn’t my coconut curry enough for you?’

  ‘Is it me or is it feeling hot in here?’ Jorge says. Leo flicks a tea towel at him. ‘Ouch,’ Jorge cries, flashing us both a perplexed look.

  I bite my lip and we both try to keep straight faces.

  During dinner, Carmen also cottons on that something has happened. I see her eyes flit between Leo and me with increasing confusion. I think it’s partly to do with Leo’s mood – he’s more relaxed and happy tonight, a far cry from his often serious self. ‘Did something happen in Miami?’ she erupts.

  ‘No,’ Leo replies with a shrug, helping himself to more rice and beans. She’s too taken aback to press him further.

  We converge on the chairs outside later, but I avoid alcohol, choosing a large glass of lemonade on ice. Leo goes for beer, as usual. He sits down first, and I take my seat next to him, with Jorge on my other side, as we were the other night. This time, though, when Leo’s arm rests behind my head it feels only natural to edge closer to him, into the crook of his arm. His finger traces circles on my neck, sending shivers up my spine. I glance at him, my gaze falling on his lips before moving up to his eyes. He looks down at me with amusement, reading my mind.

  ‘What am I missing?’ Carmen suddenly demands to know. ‘What’s going on with you two?’

  Leo’s finger freezes on my neck and he addresses her directly. ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘It is my business,’ she says irately. ‘Have you two—’

  ‘Shut it,’ Leo cuts her off, his finger starting its slow, methodical tracing once again.

  She stares at both of us in disbelief, and I sense Jorge’s discomfort to my right. Eric, as usual, seems unfazed by any of this. I think it’s only Javier’s presence that makes Carmen think twice about interrogating us. I see the uncertainty in her eyes as she glances at him, and after that she lets it drop, but I know it won’t be for long.