Undertow

by Natusch, Amber Lynn

  I always needed space . . .

  But he wasn't giving me an inch, unrelenting in his quest for answers. It confounded my mind even further that someone I knew so little about had me so figured out. The best way to catch a stressed and frightened animal was to trap it in a corner. The downside to that approach was that the cornered animal tends to lash out—and Decker was about to learn what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that.

  “Aesa,” he prompted, pressing against my legs until they finally gave way, allowing him to slide between them, his face nearing mine. “Why run?”

  “Why?” I exploded, yelling at him with my face only inches from him. “Because I don't want to be left behind anymore. I left that life for a reason. It hurts. It hurts to say goodbye constantly. It hurts to let people close to you only to lose them to alcohol, depression, their jobs, or worse yet, the sea. I did that for nearly two decades, Decker. I can't keep doing it.”

  “I'm not asking you to,” he said softly, a look of sadness playing on his face.

  “Yes, you are. That's exactly what you're asking me to do, and it scares the shit out of me,” I argued, blood rushing to my face in anger. “I can live with the what-ifs; I can't live with the loss, can't you understand that?”

  “I do, Aesa,” he replied, his eyes staring me down, warm and intense. “But you can't ask me to like it or agree with it. At least with loss, you've played the game. What you're doing will eventually lead to that same sadness and isolation that you feel you're escaping, only you won't have had those moments of joy along the way. We could have those moments together, if you choose to. But it's clear that you're not ready yet.” He brushed his palm gently along my face then leaned in and kissed my cheek softly. “I'll let go, if that's what you want, Aesa. I can't be the only one who wants this.”

  With those words wrapping around my heart and choking it slowly, he gave me a sad smile and walked toward the front door, not saying another thing. Every step he took was a nail in the coffin of a relationship that never had a chance, sealing its fate forever. I shut my eyes tightly, still gripping the counter for the stability that I so clearly lacked. As he turned the knob to the front door, I cracked.

  “NO!” I screamed as I flew off of the kitchen counter and ran to stop him. When I rounded the corner to the foyer, he was standing impassively, looking at me as though my outburst hadn't surprised him at all. I stopped only feet away from him, contemplating my next move. My heart had won the battle; that was clear. But did it have a game plan beyond that?

  “No what?” he asked calmly, still holding the doorknob in his hand.

  “Don't go,” I said softly. “I don't want you to go.” My breathing came hard, as though I'd run farther than I had to halt his escape. My body was a mess of stress hormones, making it impossible to think clearly. All I could do was react.

  “What do you want?” he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. For whatever reason that tiny movement set something off in me, and I knew why my heart had won. I wanted him. I wanted him for all that he was and all that he promised to be.

  “You,” I said with slightly more power behind the words that time.

  He smiled at me in a devilish way, like he had won the game I hadn't known we were playing.

  “That wasn't so hard to say, now was it?” His voice was playful, covering an almost palpable passion that hid just below the surface. He was holding on by a thin thread himself, his immense self-control dissipating rapidly. “Say it again . . . ”

  “I want you,” I replied with a purr, joining in his little game. Judging by the response my words garnered, I had won.

  He came at me like a man with no inhibitions, scooping me up and throwing my legs around his waist, pressing me against the wall behind me. His lips were fierce and intense, his tongue demanding entrance to my mouth. I let him have his way, relaxing into his demands as I molded myself against his body, leveraging as best I could with my legs wrapped tightly behind his back. Our collective breath was harsh and ragged, desperate to inhale fully during those few seconds, until we disconnected enough to allow for it.

  His hands quickly found my shirt's hem and thrust it up, exposing what he could while my body was painted to his. He growled in frustration.

  “Where's your room?”

  “Hallway. First door on the left,” I panted, burying my hands deep in his hair to press my mouth tighter to his.

  He never skipped a beat, following my instructions to a tee. Before I realized we were moving, I was on my back in the bed I had only just fixed that day, ready to test out its stability in a hardy way. His weight on top of me felt delicious as he pressed it harder and harder against me, making my mind shut off completely. I was raw need in that moment, and he was going to give me exactly what I wanted before we were done, of that I was certain.

  I fumbled against his jacket and hoodie, irritated that he had so many layers on. I wanted to see that glorious body that I'd only had glimpses of before, and I wanted it right then. When I couldn't stand the struggle any longer, I snapped.

  “Take your fucking clothes off before I lose my mind,” I growled, pushing up against him. He broke away from me long enough to smile that devilish smile again and pulled his arms out of his coat before tearing his hoodie up over his head, leaving only a t-shirt in my path to seeing his naked chest. It didn't stand a chance. Before he could take it off, I reached up and grabbed the V-neck collar, ripping it open and tearing it down over his arms.

  He eyed me with amusement.

  “Fancy trick you got there,” he said, looking down at the tattered piece of fabric I'd thrown onto the floor as he hovered above me. My eyes were fully locked on his insanely tight body.

  “I worked in the ER. Sometimes you have to get clothes off in a hurry. Unconscious people tend not to worry about it,” I said, sitting up to reach him and pull him down on top of me.

  “It's impressive,” he continued, whispering into my mouth as I kissed him.

  “No more talking!” I barked, tearing my shirt off in the same manner I'd just removed his. That seemed to really get his attention.

  With a slight moan, he ground himself against me, letting me know just how much he approved of the show. Once he unclasped my bra and removed it, he dropped his head to bury himself in what he'd just exposed, his hair tickling my skin as he did.

  “Pants,” I directed, wanting him to remove his for me. In a moment of confusion, he removed mine instead, leaving me fully exposed to him. I hadn't been able to find any clean underwear that morning, so I'd chosen to forgo it altogether. The sound that escaped his mouth let me know that he was most pleasantly surprised at what he'd found waiting for him.

  “Yours,” I demanded as he meandered his way down between my legs, forcing me to inhale sharply when he arrived at his target. “Pants. Off. Now.”

  He lingered a moment longer where he was, not seeming to want to follow my orders, but when he came up abruptly, I immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut.

  “I thought you said no more talking,” he purred, coming to stand up just beside the bed, loosening his belt along the way. “Seems like you can't follow your own orders, though I've heard that doctors make the worst patients.” He made a show of unbuttoning his jeans while he teased me with his words as well as what he was about to unveil. Slowly—too slowly—his thumbs hooked around the waistband of his pants, drawing them down in a painful show of control that I needed to undo quickly. The wait was nearly killing me.

  With eyes closed and arms overhead, I arched my back and moaned just as he was about to reveal exactly what he had to offer. My plan worked beautifully. Seconds later he was between my legs, hovering just outside of where I wanted him to be. When I looked up to see what the hold-up was, I found him taking me in from his vantage point as he rolled a condom on methodically. For the strangest reason, it made me laugh.

  “So you're a bit of a planner too?” I asked with a chuckle.

  He never bothered to respond, a
nd I suddenly lost interest in the question when he pushed himself deeply into me, crashing down to my body as he did. With my arms pinned tightly above my head, we moved as one, still breathing hard and frantic as we simultaneously built to a climax like I had never experienced before. I wanted to experience it again and again.

  My previous sexual encounters had always been drunken hookups or stress-releasing study interludes. They never meant anything to me, and I knew they never meant anything to the randoms I shared them with. Nobody had ever wanted me the way Decker did, his desire so plain in his dark eyes as they stared down at me as I lay beside him. How I nearly let him walk away from me seemed beyond unthinkable in that moment, my body knowing its completion when it had it. And with my mind still checked out and my body tuned in, I relished the next few hours we spent together in my childhood room, all but demolishing the bed I had tried so hard to fix.

  Maybe it was time for a new one.

  A new bed.

  A new start.

  A new outlook.

  A new me . . .

  * * *

  “I'm going to say that these noodles are a touch overcooked,” Decker mocked, picking up a nearly deteriorated piece of spaghetti from the cooling pot. I'd forgotten all about dinner on the stove and was thankful I hadn't burned the house down around our sex-engrossed bodies. I couldn't help but giggle as he flung the limp piece of pasta into the sink.

  “Yeah, I think that one's a goner. I'll make some more,” I said, moving to dump out the rest of the pot. “I'm sure you're hungry after that workout.” I threw a seductive grin over my shoulder, and it was met with great enthusiasm, Decker sliding up behind me to let me know that he was ready to resume that workout whenever I wanted. “Dad will be home shortly,” I reminded him, thinking of the message he had left on my cell phone, which Decker had managed to find while I cleaned up after our bedroom shenanigans.

  “I don't think this will take too long,” he murmured in my ear as he nuzzled against it.

  “No,” I said in my most serious voice. “We need to eat. We can play later.”

  “Not if your dad's here,” he countered, sliding his hands up under my shirt. Though his point was valid, mine was as well.

  “Sorry,” I said with finality. “I'm shutting you down for the night. It's for your own good, really. You'll need to learn to go without when you're on the boat.”

  “Always planning, aren't you?” he asked, nibbling on my ear.

  “Yes.”

  He sighed heavily, pulling away from me in playful protest.

  “Fine. I suppose you're right.” He hopped up onto the counter where I had sat only hours earlier and broke off a large chunk of bread from the baguette lying beside him, biting into it ferociously. He eyed me intensely as he did it.

  “Don't even think about it,” I warned, getting the water ready for the pasta. Just as Decker looked like he was about to throw both his bread and my earlier warnings aside to pounce on me, the front door opened and my father walked in.

  “Aesa?” he called, unable to see me from where he stood.

  “In the kitchen, Dad. Decker's here.” There was something about admitting that to him that still made me nervous even though I knew we had his blessing. I wasn't quite as sure he would have condoned what we'd just done to my bedroom.

  “I've got good news,” he said, limping into the room. “Gary says the boat should be ready to go by tomorrow night. We'll be pushing off the following morning.”

  My heart sank instantly. I had assumed Decker and I would have a few more days together, but it proved untrue. I turned my eyes to him while my father rummaged through the reasonably stocked fridge. I knew my look was one of worry, and his response to it let me know that, true to form, he had read me easily, making his way down from the counter to wrap his arms around me.

  “It'll only be a couple of weeks at most, Aesa. Then we'll have some time before the next season starts. Don't worry. You'll be so busy settling into your new job that it'll go by in no time at all.”

  “You know how this works, Aesa,” my fathered chimed in from behind the refrigerator door. “You will get used to it eventually.”

  Without the fear of Decker walking out the door or a near-death experience looming, the reality of what I'd signed myself up for once again rose to the surface. But before I could let my past dictate my thought process, Decker interceded.

  “It doesn't have to be the same,” he whispered in my ear. “Remember that.”

  I squeezed him back, trying to let go of years' worth of precedent and let his words settle in on top of my memories.

  “We have a lot to do tomorrow, Decker,” my father continued, oblivious to what was going on in my mind.

  “Whatever you need, Skipper.”

  “But tonight we can enjoy a little downtime. You won't be having any for a while, my friend.”

  Decker laughed while my heart tightened slightly until I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I forced my attention back to the dinner cooking beside me and did my best to enjoy that night rather than obsess over what was destined to come. A goodbye was approaching, and I knew it, but I was determined to have it be different that time.

  And every time after.

  20

  The next day, my father gathered the crew to the ship to begin preparing her for their re-embarking early the following morning. I knew I wouldn't get to see Decker or my father until much later, so I decided to work on some plans of my own, which included visiting the police station to put the Damon situation to rest and then contacting the hospital. Both were things I needed to do.

  I wasn't due to start working for a few days, but I thought it was worth checking with them to see if they had any need for me to start training sooner rather than later. Medical professionals were in short supply in Alaska. When I'd applied for my residency, the administrative staff had seemed surprised that I wanted to move out there at all, until I explained to them where I grew up. Anchorage was a bustling metropolis in comparison.

  After filing my report with the chief of police, I left the station and put a call in to the chief of emergency medicine at Providence Alaska Medical Center. He seemed thrilled that I could begin my contract earlier than expected. One of their doctors had been put on bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy, leaving a void in the department. He asked when I could start and I explained that I hadn't even found a place to live there yet. Without hesitation, he informed me that the hospital would provide a residential hotel for me until I found a suitable apartment.

  I told him I would make arrangements to arrive the next day and start the day following. He happily agreed and let me go so that I could get my travel plans in order. Anchorage was either a ferry or plane ride away from Dutch Harbor, which left me scrambling to get arrangements made for either one, on the hospital's dime, of course. Knowing what the costs were going to be, I was happy they were footing the bill.

  After literally hours on the phone to every charter plane company that flew out of the area, I managed to secure a flight leaving late the next morning. It left me just enough time to go down to the docks and see my father and the boys off. That was something I really didn't want to think about. I didn't enjoy goodbyes much at all.

  Returning my focus to something far more productive, I set about doing laundry and packing what clean items I had, which took far longer than it should have. Dad's washer and dryer were ancient and held next to nothing, never mind the fact that they were barely capable of doing the tasks they were created to perform. By the time everything was cleaned, dried, and folded, I had just enough time to get dressed before meeting Robbie and Decker at the tavern. I hadn't mentioned to Robbie that I had invited Decker to join us, but I figured that after a day of being on the ship with a gossipy crew, he was bound to know about the two of us as well as Decker's requested presence at Jimmy's.

  Dad was walking up the front steps just as I was heading out the door. He looked pleased that I was going out to be
social.

  “Meeting Robbie?” he asked with a playful curiosity.

  “Yeah. How did you know? Did I mention it last night?”

  “No,” he replied with a light laugh. “You were quite the discussion on the boat from what I heard. I think Robbie was a little surprised to hear that Decker would be coming along with you this evening. I suppose he left the bar too quickly the other night to have been kept abreast of all the latest news regarding you two.”

  “What did he say?” I probed, unsure of what his objections could be.

  “I don't know exactly, but Andy said that Robbie got a little slack-faced when he mentioned that you and Decker were potentially an item of sorts.” My dad smiled mischievously at his own words. Sailors really were gossipy old women.

  “Robbie and I aren't like that and never have been,” I protested. “He has no reason to get all weird about anything.”

  “You're right,” he agreed. “But he knows that Decker has a record. I'm sure he just wants to be sure that you're not getting into anything that's unsafe for you. You know that's how he is when it comes to you.”

  “He knows about that?” I asked, wondering just how much he actually did know.

  “He knows he did time. I don't think he knows why.”

  “Do you?” I hesitated to ask, but I needed to know.

  “I do,” he said tightly. “He was very honest about it up front. I never had to do a background check on him.”

  “The whole story? He told you the whole thing?”

  “Yes. It's why I hired him. Anyone willing to do what he did to protect his own family is someone I want working for me. He's not some thug or hot-headed, loose cannon; he did only what needed to be done under the circumstances. The fact that he did time for that is a damn shame.”

  I don't know why his words surprised me as much as they did, but to know that my father hired Decker for the very reason others wouldn't have made me proud of him. Maybe that's what actually surprised me in that moment: my pride in his actions. Before I could attempt to voice that to him, headlights turned up the driveway, interrupting us.