Didn't I Warn You

by Amber Bardan

  I’d missed so many things, but now they swarmed at me. All the things I should be thinking about. I’d succumbed to distraction—and I couldn’t give up those moments of diversion, the tastes of pleasure. I’d only just started this game, each of us moving like pieces on a board, playing to our own agenda, and we all know—queen takes king.

  “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday.”

  I shut my eyes, guilt rising like a tide through my body. It was as easy as that—put a name to the day of the week and everything became real again. Tuesday, and on Tuesday there were things I had to do. Responsibilities and obligations.

  People who would miss me.

  “Does it bother you to know that tonight there will be an eight-year-old underprivileged girl who is going to be let down by the one person she thought she could count on?”

  Haithem shrugged. “Perhaps, if I understood how that had anything to do with me?”

  “I’m part of a Big Sister program, Haithem. On Tuesdays, I spend time with a girl named Sandy. Take her to the park or the beach. It’s the one stable, regular thing she can count on.” My throat ached as I explained to him. Dammit, it’d taken a good six months to get Sandy to open up. “Thanks to you, her trust is about to be shattered.”

  Haithem grew still. “Everyone has their trust broken, eventually.”

  “Not by me.” I spoke through my teeth.

  Haithem leaned back and pulled the laptop onto his knees. “And here I thought I’d caught myself an angel. Turns out, I’ve captured a saint.”

  I snorted. I’d busted my chances for sainthood the moment I stepped onto this yacht. Not that my motivations had ever been so pure or so selfless.

  “You know things rarely end well for saints.”

  My nose screwed up, and I swiped the moisture on it with the back of my hand. “Go to hell.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  I smiled. “Oh, I’d count on it.”

  “Careful, might stain that halo.” He smiled back, a narrow, closed-lips smile. “So then, my little saint, what other goodly deeds have you committed yourself to?”

  I breathed in.

  The asshole thought he’d figured me all out. But as I’d only just discovered in the past few days, not even I knew what I was really capable of. “Since I’m not busy coming, I don’t think I owe you any answers, do I?”

  His smile broadened, showed a little teeth.

  I should’ve moved to the shade. The top of my head scalded.

  “That’s right. Angel has been flirting with the dark side.” His gaze traveled me, examined me in a way that reminded me of every little touch he’d laid on me to make me come. “Let me guess then, volunteering with the elderly?”

  Crap.

  I tried not to blink. Not to confirm that I did just that. I scooped my hair over one shoulder, letting the breeze cool the back of my neck.

  He leaned forward, his smile turning into a grin. “I know. Animals...an animal shelter.”

  Dammit.

  I fanned my face and looked away.

  “Yeah, I can picture that. Angelina cuddling all the poor homeless puppies.” His voice lowered as though revealing secrets. “An adorable image, such a lady.”

  Such an asshole.

  I turned to him, my teeth snapping together. “Adorable? Shows what you actually know. There’s nothing adorable about an animal shelter.” I rested my palms on the tabletop. “Cuddling puppies? Try hosing out stalls and shoveling poop. It stinks, it’s noisy and it’s actually not a nice place at all.” My lips tightened. “I hate it. How saintly is that?”

  Haithem leaned forward, his expression smoothing as though things had not just been real weird or real heated, and covered the back of my hand with his. “So why do it?”

  I swallowed. Tried to be distracted by his light touch. Tried to think about how naturally this man held my hand. Tried to let the stark contrast between home and here, buffer my proximity to the truth.

  I knew why I did all those things, even if I pretended not to. But I’d never tell him, never tell Haithem I needed the karmic points just for living—for being the one to live. That if I got to be alive then I had to make sure I deserved it.

  His thumb brushed the space between my thumb and index finger. I slid my hand from under his. He didn’t hold me down, yet my palm felt glued to the table.

  As though my body thought that he and I were friends. Like maybe after all this time surviving on my own, I needed his twisted version of help.

  No.

  He’d never know that in order to survive I’d had to drown myself in enough to bury my own memory. A memory that was beginning to crawl its way out.

  My chin rose. “What would the world be if we only did the nice things?”

  His mouth softened, and for the first time since I’d pushed the boundaries by reaching for that laptop, I knew we’d stopped playing.

  “Now you’re speaking a language I understand.”

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T JOIN me for dinner.

  I ate a chicken Caesar salad that Karim brought up on a tray, on my own. It should’ve been nice. Sunset on the yacht. Sky pink over amethyst sea, warm breeze, and solitude. No Haithem to annoy me. But too much alone time with my brain and all that... I chewed the lettuce. One of my favorite summer meals, made to order.

  How’s that for service? Lucky me. Spoiled rotten.

  Rotten, all right, because my gaze kept flicking to the stairs, willing Haithem to walk up them. I set down the fork—my salad more tossed than consumed—and went back into the cabin. I fished a can of cola from the fridge and sat on the edge of the bed. A scrap of paper stuck out underneath the bedside table. I set the cola down and picked up the paper and flipped it over.

  Blood rushed away from my head, making the cabin dip. The photo of me and Josh on our eighteenth birthday in his Mustang. A time branded in my mind.

  A time when we’d actually believed things were looking up. He’d fought and won. We didn’t know that it’d only been a warm-up for the real battle.

  I placed the photo facedown on the side table and rubbed my forehead.

  I’d sensed this birthday creeping up on me. Felt the days, the weeks, the months ticking by. Yet somehow I’d shut it out. I’d walked past Mum on the phone to the minister, organizing a memorial for our birthday—and it’d gone right over my head. I’d known but let it slide off as though I’d never heard anything at all.

  Just as I blocked it out when I walked past his bedroom door. It was only a door. I paid no attention when a Maroon 5 song came on the radio. They were only songs, not songs that used to drift from his room to mine. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see his eyes anymore—they were only my eyes now. I ignored my clenched guts, my hurting chest and my burning eyes. I ignored the desire to cry. I ignored the need I had to scream.

  And I did something else.

  But now there was nothing else to do. I picked up the cola and drained the can. There was no fresh air in the damn cabin, even with the door open. I walked to the intercom and picked up the receiver.

  It rang half a dozen times before Karim answered. “Yes?”

  “Put Haithem on the phone.”

  Silence met my ear. I hadn’t asked nicely. Couldn’t bring the “please” to my lips. Karim was less of a friend to me than Haithem was.

  “Very well.”

  I let out a breath and waited.

  “Angelina?” His voice was like a balm. It blunted the corners of my edginess.

  “Don’t I deserve dessert tonight?”

  He laughed softly. “We had dessert for breakfast.”

  “Yet I still want dessert now.”

  “I’ll see what’s in the kitchen.”

  The line clicked, an
d I hung up the receiver then flopped into one of the chairs and stared at the ceiling. Footsteps padded across the deck, and Haithem walked into the cabin with a covered tray. I rested my elbow on the arm of the chair and my chin in my hand. He slowed, dragging the coffee table in front of me, and then he set the tray on top. He sat on the couch opposite and lifted the lid.

  “Lemon meringue pie.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Pity there wasn’t also a tub of ice cream on the tray. Haithem relaxed on the couch. I took the knife and cracked through the meringue top. The knife slid fluidly, catching on the biscuit base. I pushed down, dragged the knife along the bottom of the pie dish, then flipped the knife over and pried up a piece. I laid it on one of the two small plates on the tray.

  With the back of the knife, I lifted the meringue top away from the curd and set it on the other plate, slid the meringue part across the table, took the curd plate, then picked up a fork. Haithem made no move to take the plate.

  I glanced up.

  He watched me from under his lashes. My gaze flicked to the plate I’d served him, and my blood just about solidified in my veins.

  Shit.

  I held my breath. My heart came back to life with a vengeance. The fork fell and clattered onto the plate. I knew what I’d done. What I always used to do. Pulled the meringue off for Josh.

  Habit.

  I’d done it instinctively. Except I hadn’t done this kind of thing since the day he went. Hadn’t left the bathroom light on for him to use after me. Hadn’t said yes to the one-dollar Mars bar offers at the service station when buying milk. Hadn’t set the TV to record Top Gear. Hadn’t gone to his bedroom door at midnight with secrets and marshmallows.

  None of it.

  I’d stopped cold. As if I’d never done any of those things at all. Yet for some reason, I’d taken the meringue off the pie for him a little over a year later. I moved my plate aside.

  “What’s going on, Angelina?”

  I looked at Haithem. As always, some deep, dark place inside me rose up to smother sensible thoughts.

  I breathed evenly again.

  “You haven’t earned a question yet,” the other Angelina, who only emerged around him, said.

  He rested his arm on the back of the couch. “Is that what this is?”

  I nodded. Who knew I could lie so easily. I guess what they say about the company you keep is true.

  “Twice in one day. You’re greedier than I thought.” He made no move toward me.

  If anything, he relaxed more. There’d be no kneeling in front of me this time. If I wanted this, I’d have to go to him. I’d have to get up on my feet and walk over to get what I wanted.

  Somehow, I did.

  Somehow, I got myself off that chair and went and sat next to him. Right under his outstretched arm.

  He leaned toward me. “And you said something about me wanting you here to service my purposes...”

  I smiled. “I guess this is karma then.”

  “There’s no such thing as karma,” he whispered, and grabbed my thigh.

  His fingers squeezed. He didn’t need to pull my legs wide; I let them fall open. His gaze tracked my body, landing on his hand on my skin.

  He ran his fingers from the outside to the inside of my thigh. “Are you wet for me yet?”

  Question one.

  Heat lanced my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “Yeah, I am. Have been since you walked in the room.”

  His nostrils flared, and he slid his hand higher. “I do love this honesty.” His hand moved up to my panties. He brushed against my crotch. “But what I’d really like to know is how you’d like me to make you come this time.”

  I felt like I was breathing some kind of smoke, because I almost choked. My hips rocked into his touch.

  I’d happily come any way he let me. “Pass.”

  He grinned and pushed my panties to the side. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “That you have to answer my next question no matter what it is.” He touched me. “And it means I’m going to choose how this happens.”

  I sucked my lip between my teeth.

  “Oh, Angel, you shaved for me.” He swept over me with his knuckles.

  My pussy flooded at the ache in his voice.

  “Get your ass on that bed. I’m ready for my dessert.”

  My skin tingled up and down my body, but I got my ass up. Walked it across the room and sat on the bed.

  He followed me.

  He came after me and all I could do was wait.

  “Take off your dress.”

  I shivered. My nice dress did a fine job at hiding what I liked hidden, while showing off what I liked to show. But I remembered how I’d looked in the mirror that morning and slid the straps off my shoulders, pushed it down to my waist, then over my hips.

  Haithem caught my foot as it came up to remove the dress. He lifted my leg. My back hit the bed. He tugged the dress over my feet and threw it over his shoulder. The look on his face made my hips rise off the mattress. He grabbed them, sliding me higher on the bed and climbing on after me.

  My panties didn’t stand a chance. He jerked them down my thighs. I clamped my knees together. Not sure why, but I couldn’t handle him looking at me there. I felt that if he saw, I’d never be able to hide from him again.

  He didn’t force my legs apart.

  He could’ve. Hell, truth be told, it would have made me hotter.

  “If you make me wait for dessert, I’m only going to take my time eating it.”

  Shit.

  My pussy throbbed. I opened my legs, felt the lips of my sex open to him. Knowing this was it, I exposed all.

  He made a sound like a groan. “Pull those knees up.”

  Moisture broke across my lip, and I gripped behind my knees, drawing them higher.

  He cupped me with his entire hand and rubbed. “Just warning you, I’m saving my last question for later, because my mouth’s about to be full.” His thumb flicked across my clitoris.

  My knees jerked, and pleasure shot through me.

  “You good with that?”

  I nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

  He leaned between my legs, glancing up at me with a look so savage I forgot to breathe. His mouth closed over me. Sensations ripped into my core. He sucked with his entire mouth. A barrage of sensation, too much to process as good or bad—just a stunning feeling. My fingers clenched my knees, and my head dropped back. He worked my clit with his tongue—not with gentle licks or laps but with deep, aggressive strokes.

  Muscles tightened up in my legs, across my stomach and through my shoulders. He released my clit and licked down my pussy. I gasped for air. His tongue pushed inside me.

  My thighs jerked.

  He withdrew and stroked his way back to my nub, then sucked. I moaned, dropped my knees, hands burying in his hair, hips lifting. A thick finger entered me. My flesh stretched, bursting with stinging pleasure. His tongue pumped my clit. Muscles clenched, everything bracing for an explosion.

  The finger inside me thrust. It hurt with the same erotic satisfaction as stepping beneath a too-hot shower. Pleasure layered upon burn. He pressed his mouth harder and shook his head. My fingers stiffened, my body hardened tight enough to shatter—and then I did.

  I shattered like a mirror falling against stone. Bursting and scattering into thousands of jagged parts. My hips jerked, but he continued eating me, drawing out every bead of pleasure until nothing remained.

  I melted into the mattress. Sweat coated my skin like a blanket. I released his hair, my thighs flopping open. His movements softened. His finger left me, and he licked softly against a place so sensitive each tender touch zapped like the flick of an elastic band. I twitched,
lacking the strength to stop him. Without the strength to fight the new wave of desire. He lapped me slowly. Made the tiniest little circles around my nub.

  Deep, helpless sounds left my lips. He used his thumbs to spread my pussy wide, to access me completely. My head tossed, and I held on to the bedspread. I grew new bones, formed new muscles, and everything contracted again. My head twisted to the side, and my face pressed against the bed. Waves of ecstasy washed through me, over me, inside me and out. My back arched, and my body bowed. Ripple after ripple of pleasure. On and on and on as if it’d never stop.

  I drifted away on the current.

  FIFTEEN

  HAITHEM KISSED UP over my stomach, his teeth nipping my breast through my bra before he lay beside me.

  He tugged on my hip and rolled me toward him. I pressed my face into his shirt and inhaled. Man, spice and something just sharp enough in his cologne to make breathing him addictive. He touched my back, running his fingers from the bottom of my spine, up under my hair to the base of my neck.

  I needed more. More than touching. More than playing.

  More than dipping my toe in the ocean.

  I tilted back my head and looked at him. His mouth. Hard and soft and irresistible. How long had it been since he’d kissed me?

  Forever.

  I pulled myself up. My naked stomach dragged over the fabric of his pants.

  He watched me from under his sweeping lashes. Eyes so dark I could barely make out his irises. I brought my lips to his. He caught a fistful of my hair, tugging my head back. My hips pushed against him. He leaned in and rubbed his prickly chin against my jaw. My scent clung to him. The scent of my sex. A hum rose in my throat.

  His mouth hovered over mine.

  The beat of my pulse tapped against my neck.

  “You owe me a question...”

  The arm underneath my neck stretched then bent at the elbow, lightly squeezing my neck as he raised his hand.

  I shivered.

  The cabin had cooled while we were busy. He released my hair and passed something to his free hand.

  My photo appeared between us.