Where the Lotus Flowers Grow

by MK Schiller

  I believed him.

  Liam jumped on the vehicle like a cowboy mounting a horse. I was less graceful and required his assistance.

  “I wish I could take you for a ride on my bike,” he said as we were floating on the water.

  “You have a bicycle? Is it built for two people?”

  He let out another laugh, but it held no humor. “It’s a motorcycle. A Ducati, actually.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” The jet ski throttled to life as he turned the ignition. “Anyway, we got this thing, yeah?”

  “Yes, we have this.” We have today, Liam. Stop thinking about tomorrow and make today last as long as possible.

  “Trust me?” he asked, his grin mischievous.

  “I would still be on the ship if I didn’t trust you.”

  I’d still be on land.

  I’d still be in Mumbai.

  I’d still be in Jaipur.

  “Good.” He pressed the handlebars, the engine roaring much too loudly for such a small machine. “Just the same, hold on tight.”

  I almost fell back when he took off. Tightening my grip, I adjusted. My eyes shut tightly as the wind whipped my hair in all directions. I’m not exactly sure when my body stopped clenching and I started to enjoy the flips my stomach made as he took a turn. A mixture of exhilaration and adrenaline coursed through me. Water splashed our feet and sprayed our faces. I pressed close to him, the scent of sun and sea and Liam drifting everywhere. He rode fast, the machine either cutting through or jumping the waves. I tightened my hold around him as we flew in the air, my voice hoarse from excited screams. He slowed down and eventually came to a full stop. The boat was a distant dot in the horizon.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “Let’s trade places.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t drive this thing. I can’t even drive a car.”

  “I have no doubt you can do anything you want to, Miss Costa. Don’t worry. This is simpler than a car, and there isn’t anyone out here.”

  His praise gave me a boost of confidence. “Okay,” my mouth said without checking in with my brain.

  “On three, we’ll stand. Me to the left. You to the right. And we switch. Count with me.”

  We counted. I thought for sure I’d fall into the water, where a shark would be sharpening his teeth, ready to make a meal out of me. But I didn’t. Liam instructed me how to maneuver the boat and adjust speed.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I replied with more confidence than I felt.

  Liam’s large hands rested on my thighs, his fingers spreading. I pried his wrists off me.

  “I’m nervous enough without your naughty distractions, sir.”

  “Well, I have to hold onto something.” He gripped my hips, shooting a flurry of butterflies into my tummy.

  “Not there either.”

  He wrapped his arms over my breasts. I could feel the tension even through the padding of the life vest. “Liam!”

  “Okay, keep your hair on, lass.” He moved them over my waist. It still made my insides quiver, especially combined with the tender kiss on my neck, but it would do.

  I swallowed back any hesitation. I went much slower than Liam did. But I had to admit, it felt amazing to drive this strange vessel.

  “I’m doing it.”

  “You are.”

  “Liam, I’m driving a jet boat!”

  “Jet ski, baby. Can you drive it bit faster, though? A school of sea turtles just passed us.”

  I laughed, revving the motor higher. I didn’t go fast enough to jump any waves, but the speed was definitely challenging.

  “Stop.”

  I slowed us down to a crawl and then stopped. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No sweetheart, you were doing well. I wanted you to see this. Look over there.” I turned in the direction he pointed to. Several gray fins rose out of the water.

  “Are those…”

  “Dolphins.”

  Thank God, I thought they were sharks. “Wow.”

  We watched them for a while. They leapt out of the water in a graceful dance. Liam leaned his chin on my shoulder. He traced the line where the swimsuit met my thigh. Then he slipped his fingers underneath the material.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Relax, no one can see what I’m doing…except maybe the dolphins. They have very good eyesight, you know.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but only a moan escaped as his fingers slipped inside me.

  “You like that, baby? You’re always so fucking wet for me. I love it.”

  I closed my eyes and ground my hips into his thrusts.

  “Dolphins have no official mating season. They fuck all year long.” His voice turned husky. I parted my mouth and licked my lips. He nibbled on my ear, his erection pressing into my back. “They are very sexual creatures.”

  “Just like you,” I said in a strained tone.

  “And like you, too, my little nymph. Or should I say nympho?” He kissed along my jawline with soft, wet presses of his lips.

  My legs shook. The waves rocked us while his fingers rocked me. Small pulses of pleasure built higher and higher until a tidal wave exploded.

  “Ready to trade places again?” he asked. “I think it’s your turn to pleasure me now.”

  “Liam, you have the libido of a dolphin.”

  “And the sharp bite of a shark,” he hissed before he nipped my neck.

  * * * *

  That night, Liam and I dined on the boat, gorging on fresh Kingfish ceviche and prawn ravioli cooked in curry leaves. Before I met him, all seafood was disgusting to me, but he made trying new things exciting. The chilled wine, flavored with apple and dark grape, tasted as smooth as Sidr honey.

  When the ship reached port, we decided to laze about on the beach and watch the sun go down. We laid on towels. Liam rested his back on a boulder, his arms around me.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, gesturing to the other beachgoers nearby.

  “What? People enjoying a sunset on the beach?” I asked.

  “Cows enjoying a sunset on the beach.”

  I peered closer at the direction where he pointed. He was right. Two large cows casually roamed the sandy shores as if they were out for a romantic walk. They mooed to each other. We laughed.

  “He’s telling her he wants some tail,” Liam said.

  “She’s telling him to behave since they’re out in public.”

  As the sun set, Liam’s smile waned. He laid his head in my lap. I combed my fingers through his thick hair. Usually, this was the kind of thing that would have one of us suggesting we return to the room.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “We only have two more days.”

  I stopped touching him. “I know exactly how much time we have, Liam. I keep track, too.”

  “Today I was thinking about this particular property.”

  “You’re not working this week, remember?”

  “Still, I couldn’t help notice the hotel lacks something.”

  “It has every amenity anyone could want.”

  “It doesn’t have a bookstore.”

  “It’s a good idea.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. I need someone competent to run it. Someone who has a passion for books. The position would come with nice accommodations. Of course, I’d have to come and check on the progress personally.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Just hear me out, Mary. We can make it work.”

  “We agreed. When this is over, it’s over. It’s not as if I live in a different village than you. I’m across the world.”

  “Don’t you feel the same way I do?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  His mouth tightened into a grim line. “It’s the only thing that matters.�
��

  “Don’t you understand? I don’t want to spend my days wondering when you’ll call, when you’ll visit, or who you’re with when you’re not with me.”

  “I wouldn’t be with anyone else.”

  “That’s not the point, Liam.”

  “Well then, come up with another fucking solution.”

  “There isn’t one. You’re being irrational.”

  He sat up, narrowing his eyes. “I’m irrational? Tell me you don’t feel what I do. Fucking tell me.”

  “Let’s head back.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  I stood, brushing the sand from my skirt. “Don’t spoil the next two days with this.” The warning edged somewhere between frustration and fear.

  He didn’t respond. We walked in silence, each lost to our own thoughts.

  “At least tell me where you’ll be.”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “When you are there, you still won’t tell me, will you?”

  I spun around toward him. “What difference would it make?”

  “How will I know if you’re all right?”

  “You won’t, Liam. That’s the point. We’ll go on with our lives without the constant worry.” I didn’t add the other elements—the jealousy, the loneliness, the resentment.

  “What if you need me?”

  “What if you need me, Liam? I can’t exactly get to you. Don’t you see? It’s better not to spend our days filled with thoughts of each other.” I wanted to sooth the hurt in his face. Didn’t he understand? I wasn’t doing this to hurt him. Nor to hurt myself. I pressed my hands against his chest. “I will cherish every moment with you, but I’m going to let you go because it is the best thing for both of us. In this way, I can look back on these memories with fondness. I can pray for your happiness…even when it doesn’t include me. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t fucking understand. Why are you doing this to us? What is it? Some stupid sense of pride? Or are you just this stubborn?”

  It wasn’t stubbornness. It was self-preservation. Having him in and out of my life would be like mourning him over and over. I had prepared myself for our end, but I lacked the strength and discipline to do it repeatedly.

  “I’m following our agreement.”

  “Your fucking agreement. Your bloody rules.”

  “You agreed to them.” I inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s not fight.” I kissed the exposed area of his chest, tasting his salty skin as I unbuttoned his shirt.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I think you know…sir.” My hand cupped him.

  The raw anger in his eyes both attracted and frightened me. I had become a moth drawn to an intense fire. He gripped my arms and pulled me against him. “I’m trying to have a conversation.”

  “We can’t have one when you’re not listening to anything I say. Right now, there are better things you could be doing with your mouth than arguing with me.”

  He pushed me against a wall, his harsh kiss claiming me. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes, Liam. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

  His eyes blazed with fury and lust. He gripped my hair and pulled it back, exposing my neck. The hard muscles of his chest collided against me. His teeth grazed me, nipped me, bit me. He wanted to mark me, punish me. I wanted to be punished. He threw me on the bed and stripped off my clothes. He crawled toward me on his knees. He slid a silk tie across the detailed metal scrollwork of the headboard. Grasping my wrist, he secured it with the tie. He kissed the scar on my other wrist with such tenderness I almost cried. Then he secured that one, too.

  “Tell me you want this,” he said.

  “I want it, sir.”

  “If I go too far, you’ll ask me to stop.” It was a statement, a command, and a question all in one.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t speak again unless you want this to end.” He covered my eyes with the widest part of another tie. The soft silk cooled my heated skin.

  His fingers slid down my body. They taunted me with soft touches. They startled me with hard grips. I arched my hips, begging him to stop teasing. He’d made my punishment some special brand of torture where I wasn’t allowed to touch him. Not allowed to voice my need for him. Not allowed to reciprocate his affection.

  The mattress lifted as he stood.

  Music leaked into the room, its harsh beat raw, primal, and sexual.

  “Nine Inch Nails,” Liam said, answering the question I wasn’t allowed to ask.

  The room grew darker. He must have switched off the lights. I thought he would leave me like that. Alone and tied up with a million rampant thoughts. But he didn’t. My heart beat faster with each of his footsteps. Hard liquor and sweet limes mingled with his own masculine scent. Time had no measure. It was his moist breath on my ear. It was his long fingers trailing down my flesh. It was the sticky, sweet honey he dripped onto my skin. His tongue warm, wet, and hungry lapping it up. Mmmm…soft bristles of a paintbrush, circling my nipples, causing them to harden like little pebbles. Every nerve ending rose up in silent protest. Warm wax from a melted candle against my tummy. My entire body became over-sensitized with each new sensation.

  I parted my legs, begging him for more.

  He stopped touching me.

  “You don’t get to make any decisions right now, my love. You’re abiding by my rules. You’d do well to remember that.”

  Liam bit into the soft flesh of my thighs. He gave me a tongue lashing, which I never wanted to end. I surrendered to the language of lust, one spoken with no words. He swirled his tongue, tasting me…savoring me. But he pulled back right before I climaxed. I cried out in protest.

  “Shhh.”

  Slowly, his fingers spider-crawled up my legs. He slid them inside me. He thrusted gently, his thumb circling my tense bundle of nerves. His movements became faster and deeper, drawing me in. I climbed to the peak, unable to control the moans escaping me. He withdrew.

  “No!”

  “What’s wrong? You want me to stop.”

  Through clenched teeth, I made my stance. “I want you not to stop.”

  His laugh was cynical and sad. “That’s not how it works, baby.”

  He pressed the head of his cock against my opening, sliding it up and down. I bucked my hips. But he never entered me.

  So this was my punishment. He’d take me to the precipice without releasing me. It was cruel and excruciating. I hated it. Another part of me, which only existed with him, also loved it.

  He played with me for a long time, a tiger toying with his prey. My body riled in response. A hot tear slid down my face.

  “Please…” I begged. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what? Submit to me? Listen to me? Let me love you?”

  I never had a chance to answer. The faint sound of ripping foil gave some great relief.

  Time had become Liam inside of me. Liam grunting with each thrust. Liam’s harsh kisses. Liam’s strong hands cupping my bottom, his long fingers pressing into my flesh.

  Time had become my enemy.

  Chapter 28

  Liam

  We laid in the hammock for an afternoon siesta. She had fallen asleep. Her silky hair tickled my skin. I couldn’t sleep. The minutes ticked by, their speed almost exponential. I hated it. I also didn’t want to miss a second. I had the sketch pad, but I didn’t want to sketch her. Not today.

  “What are you drawing?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  I looked at the blankness of the page. “Nothing. Did you have a good nap?” I asked, kissing her head.

  “Yes. Your chest is my favorite pillow.” She sat up, stretching her arms. “Will you paint when you’re back in New York?”

  She’d asked me that once before. “Didn’t we have this conversation, lass?”

  “You said maybe. I wondered if you had a more definitive answer now.”

  “I
doubt I will.”

  “You should.”

  I started sketching, well, more like doodling. The chaos in my head wouldn’t translate to anything real.

  “That’s the beach, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I suppose it is. Or at least my interpretation of it.” I handed her the pencil. “You draw something.”

  “I can’t draw.”

  “Sure you can. Everyone can. Let’s collaborate.”

  She took the pencil from me, her hesitation apparent.

  “Dogs?” I asked her when she’d finished.

  She elbowed me. “Cows. The cows on the beach.”

  “Oh, yeah, I see it.”

  “Told you I couldn’t draw.”

  I took her hand and kissed the pad of her fingers. “I beg to differ, lass.”

  “What’s your life like in New York?”

  I shaded the black spots on the cows. “Why do you ask?”

  “I just want to imagine you as accurately as possible.”

  I handed her the pencil. She drew a bottle of wine.

  “It’s nothing exciting.”

  “New York isn’t exciting?”

  “Oh no, New York is definitely exciting. I’m not.”

  She didn’t reply. She wanted a real answer.

  “I get up a six and go for a run.”

  “Even in the winter?” she asked, drawing a huge sun.

  “Every day. I need it. Then I go to work.”

  “Then?”

  “When I reach home, I have a late supper. I have an indoor pool so I go for a swim sometimes or read a book.”

  “Your building has a pool?”

  “My flat has a pool.”

  “Like the plunge pool?”

  “No, Mary, like an Olympic-sized pool.”

  “How can you fit a whole pool inside a flat?”

  She had no idea how rich I was. “It’s four levels.”

  “I see.” She chewed on the bottom of her lip. “What kind of books do you read?”

  “Usually texts on economics. Occasionally, a classic here or there.”

  I took the pencil from her and sketched a few books. They were open, flying through the air like the huge hulking birds of Jaipur.

  She listened to all of it as if she was trying to imagine it herself.

  “Told you it wasn’t exciting.”