by Amber Burns
She reentered the party, and the sound of voices vying to be heard over each other made her feel sick; the snippets of conversation that snatched at her ears as she pressed past her tipsy coworkers were filled with boasting, attempts at proving themselves more impressive than the people with which they were speaking.
“Nina!”
Pale nails dug into Nina’s arm, stopping her determined march through the crowded office. She glanced towards the owner of the hands and found herself face to face with Anna.
“I didn’t even get to see you yet, holy shit!” Anna yelped. Her cheeks were flushed with the rush of vodka, and she swayed slightly back and forth as she spoke to Nina. Her fingers clutched Nina’s arm fondly, and her smile seemed like it was too big for her face. “I am so relieved and happy to see you, you babe!”
Nina let herself be wrapped up in her friend’s arms but pulled away as quickly as she could. Anna noticed the determination that possessed Nina’s face, made her eyes green daggers. She let her friend free from her grip and asked quickly. “What it is it.”
“I can not do this,” was all Nina said.
And then she slipped away into the crowd, eaten up by the adoring yelps of employees inferior to her, employees hoping to please Nina and work their way up the corporate ladder, however slightly. Nina pushed past them without so much as a forced smile and finally found herself at the elevator. She punched at the down button and glanced behind her shoulder to find several men, interns freshly converted to employee status, rushing her way. Without thinking she slammed her hips against the door that stood next to the elevator and smashed her heels down the stairs. She ran down the seventeen flights, not even noticing the difficulties of sprinting down the stairs in six-inch heels. She had to get out, and to him, and that was all that mattered.
Finally, Nina found herself at the bottom of the staircase. She pushed the door open and jogged out, inches away from pushing open the double glass doors and gulping down a mouthful of fresh night air. She placed her hands upon the door, stared down the world that hung just outside the glass structure, and took a breath.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The voice stilled her and chilled her to the bone. Nina froze, her hands glued to the translucent, shimmering glass. She turned slowly, knowing who the voice belonged to before she saw the face that had spoken the words.
“Ilsa,” Nina said, her green eyes falling upon the woman who stood behind her. Ilsa wore a dark blue pantsuit cinched at the waist with a thin, maroon belt. Her silver hair was slicked back smartly and tucked behind her ears. She looked at Nina inquisitively, a graceful eyebrow arched up her forehead.
“Nina,” Ilsa returned, her perfectly done lips dancing with the announcement of Nina’s name.
Nina turned, completely facing her employer straight on. She looked her straight in the eyes, forest on ice, and she spoke.
“I do not wish to become CEO.”
Nina watched Ilsa stare at her for a moment, then nod her head slowly up and down, a small smile creeping across her lips. Nina felt slightly confused by the current CEO’s reaction so she continued before the woman could say anything.
“I am leaving, and before I go, I have one final request.”
The words hung in the air, heavy, shivering with weight. Ilsa opened her lips slowly.
“And what would that request be, dear Nina?” Ilsa asked, slipping her hands together at the waist.
Nina looked at Ilsa hard.
“Tell me what happened to Rowan Davis.”
Ilsa’s smiled fell from her face. Her put-upon look of amusement crumpled and fell, and to Nina’s amazement, she watched the CEO slide down the wall to the floor. She sat on the plush carpeting in her figure hugging pantsuit, her head in her hands, and stared up at Nina’s young, freckled face.
“Rowan Davis,” Ilsa repeated the name. “Rowan Davis.” The older woman shook her head slowly side to side. Then she smiled, and it was genuine this time. “Rowan fucking Davis,” she whispered, and she burst out laughing. “Oh, god.” She shook her head several times more, then spoke. “Why do you ask about him?”
Nina swallowed. She forced herself to look the woman in the eyes.
“Because,” she began, pleading with her voice, begging it not to waver. “Because I am going now, and I am going to be with him.”
Nina watched Ilsa freeze, watched her eyes light upon Nina in a way that Nina would never be able to completely describe. Was it envy, or disgust, or sadness that suddenly took over the older woman’s face and made her look like an entirely different person altogether? Nina would never know. But the words that Ilsa spoke in that quiet, heavy moment were words that Nina would never forget.
“He’s alive,” the CEO said. “I knew he was alive.” She stared down at her perfectly painted fingernails for a moment. Then she looked up, stared deeply, intensely, into Nina’s eyes. “I knew he would do it. I knew he would get away and live. Go.” The CEO looked at Nina with something like electricity in her gaze, her icy eyes shocked Nina into action, made Nina’s insides feel as if they had been slapped with energy. “Go. Tell him I send my best. Get away and don’t just survive and thrive here, live and thrive. Please, Nina. Please: live.”
Nina stared at the CEO, crumpled upon the floor in her one million dollar pantsuit, for one second more. Then she turned, pushed open the glass door, and let the night air pull her into a delicious embrace. As the door began to swing closed she turned back, her red hair leaping in the air.
“Thank you!” she screamed, feeling as alive as a little kid. She watched Ilsa stand and hold up a hand in a weak but loving wave. Then Nina turned and sprinted towards the highway, punching in the numbers on her phone for the cab.
12
Rowan stared at the fire. The bright red flames were thin tonight; they tangled and danced in a pattern that resembled orange locks of hair blowing in the wind. He swallowed, the vibrant swaying of the flames reminded him of Nina so much that he felt sick. He tried to pull his eyes from the twisting flames but found he could not, for the pain of missing Nina, of thinking of her, of seeing her laughing, of watching the curl of her long, beautiful mane of fire take shape within the hearth, the heart, of his home, made him feel more comforted than forgetting her existence ever could.
Rowan found himself suddenly creeping forward, toward the fire, his fingers outstretched, his heart aching, his body reaching, reaching, each bit of etched in ink dancing upon his flesh, attempting to reach the heat of the tendrils of flame that leaped over each other like locks of passion. His hands hung before the flames, and he stared deeply into the redness, feeling almost as if he were looking deeply into the eyes of the girl he had saved from the dark dangers of the forest so many days ago. He felt his heart cry out in pain, but the warmth of the dancing flames comforted him and pulled him in, for in staring at the burning hearth he felt that his heart was that much closer to the one girl he truly loved.
“I will always love you, Nina,” he heard himself whisper.
The words fell roughly, thickly, from his tongue, and he choked back passion, attempted to swallow all emotion down, tried to fight himself from feeling the overwhelming passion and love that swelled within him, stoked by the color of the flames. He stared, trying not to feel, but being so close to stroking the fire itself, Rowan felt tempted to run his fingertips through the tangle of the flames, for it would be like running his hands through Nina’s stunning hair. He had to fight to keep his tattooed hands from subconsciously slipping between the screaming passion of the twisting tongues of fire.
“I do love you, Nina,” he whispered to himself, pulling his hands back from the licks of the flames. “I do love you, Nina, and I love you in a way that I know is forever.”
“And that is exactly how I feel about you.”
The words fell like bombs upon Rowan’s ears, and he felt that the world around him was shaking, crumbling, exploding. It could not be real, it could not be reality, and so the room sh
ook and tilted and slid out of focus as he tripped forward, and his hands fell to the floor, slapping against the hardwood in a confused panic as he tried to grip onto something of solid truth, something that would ground him and bring him back to reality, to here, to the now. The voice could not be real, simply could not be and therefore he would not even allow himself to turn around and acknowledge the voices that his ears were conjuring; it could not be, it could not be…
“It cannot be, it cannot be, it is not, and it cannot be,” Rowan murmured to himself, over and over again, beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead and sliding down his chiseled face, leaping over his defined jaw, creeping down his chest and slipping over the body of the tattooed snake as she curled her way across his impossibly perfect abs. He squeezed his fingers together, his knuckles jumping to whiteness, to pink panic, to whiteness again.
A hand upon his naked shoulder, gentle, soft skin, the fingernails painted light pink. The voice like a hummingbird, the breath soft but warm as the words brushed against his ear.
“It can be, Rowan, and it is, I am here. I came back.” A pause as the light pink fingernails worked their way gently over his neck, danced across his cheek in loving kisses, and finally, her hands, working his head softly to face her way. “It can be,” Nina repeated, and her face was inches from his own now. “It can be and Rowan, my baby, my love, my life, Rowan, it can be, and it is.”
Rowan stared at the stunning image before him, this woman, this slice of perfection amidst everything wrong with the world, his refuge, his glory, his pleasure, his rock. He reached out and did not wipe the tears from his eyes. He gripped Nina’s body in his own, running his hands up and down her thighs, her lips, tracing her breasts, feeling her nipples harden beneath his fingers, feeling her lips soft and plump beneath the brushing of his fingertips, feeling her beneath him. He gripped her tightly against his chest, his center throbbing with pure love. Then he held his lips against hers, and they pressed their bodies against each other, gripping, holding, sliding, loving, their breaths gasping and dancing, leaping and choking, exploding across each other in a breathless, wordless cascade of truth.
Nina finally pulled away, her breath catching in her throat as she tripped over words and flushed cheeks.
“I came back, yes,” she began, and Rowan felt his heart swell and tremble at the sound of her voice and the light of her eyes. “But I must tell you now. I cannot be what you want to be. I will never be the girl you wish I was. I cannot give up the part of me that longs for pleasure, the part of me that relishes a massage, a day at the spa, an hour spent tanning on a warm day, soaking in the rays of the sun.” She pushed a lock of lemony red hair away from a flushed and freckled cheek and continued. “But I can do all that, and more, if you teach me to ride your bike.”
Rowan felt his stomach flip over several times as if he had dropped down the slope of a motorcycle.
“I can teach you to ride the bike,” he said, his voice rushing out breathlessly, his heart crying out in joy.
Nina’s eyes seemed to crack open with honest joy, tears flooding her flushed cheeks, leaping from freckle to freckle in absolute happiness.
“What I can be,” she said, her voice strong, her lips pink, her eyes burning with the color of nature, her hair flowing in the gentle sighing of the breeze that crept in through the open window. “Is the woman who loves you more than anyone else. The woman who wakes up beside you every day. The woman who helps you to plant, to care for, and to harvest. The woman who never gives up on reality, on the dream of honest living, on you, no matter what the cost. I can be all that,” Nina gasped, and wrapped her arms around Rowan, and pulled him so close he thought he might suffer a heart attack from the amount of beauty he felt. “So long as you can teach me to ride the bike.”
Rowan laughed, his heart light, his eyes full of the stunning sight of Nina, her, here, now, and Nina laughed too, her eyes dripping with happy tears. She pressed herself against him, and he pressed his lips against her own.
“Nina?” he asked.
“Rowan,” she breathed, her breasts rising and falling in joy.
“I love you, Nina,” Rowan said, and his very body seemed to sing, his tattoos seemed to dance, his heart felt like the motor of his bike revving off into the full moon night.
Nina grinned. She clutched him and pressed her perfect body against his own, and her lips danced against his ear, sending shivery words down his spine.
“Rowan Davis, the man who refused CEO, the man who found me in the center of the forest,” she laughed, breathing her joy upon his neck. “I love you too.”
A moment of pure, untainted joy passed between them, Rowan gripping her, Nina gripping him, the fire dancing before them, the night air kissing their lips as they kissed each others’ souls. Then, as if in one, united breath, they both reached forward and grabbed at each other, passion choreographing the rough and rustling surge forward of their hands, running greedily over each others’ bodies, as if starving to press naked flesh upon naked flesh. Rowan tore Nina’s shirt from her thin frame, and she gasped as he pressed her fingers against her breasts. He ran his hands softly yet tenderly over her nipples, teasing, hardening the perfect pink circlets, tugging at her lust.
Her eyes burned teasingly, a green dance of lusty hunger, and she yanked his shirt over his head. His dark tendrils of hair fell upon his naked, well-carved chest, tangling with the black ink of the tattoos. She pressed her lips upon his chest and ran her tongue down the peaks of his impressive abs, feeling her stomach lurch upward with incomparable attraction, and then, no longer able to stand it, she thrust her hands into the depths of his crotch. He was already hard and feeling his cock throbbing beneath her soft fingers sent Nina’s soul wild. She became instantly wet, dripping for the pressing of that rock hard cock against her pussy. She pulled Rowan’s pants from his legs and sighed hungrily as she caught sight of his entirely naked body, the snake curling down his abs, the way his thighs shuddered as she wrapped her lips around his cock.
She sucked, and Rowan purred, him throwing his dark hair away from his face as his back arched in bliss, her rolling her tongue over and over his hardened center, lapping and sucking, playing with every inch, relishing the taste of him inside of her perfectly pink lips. Then, when he could no longer stand it a second longer, Rowan lunged forward, toppling Nina backward. Her red hair fanned out, a perfect, devilish burning halo around her head. He stripped the rest of her clothes from her body and slapped his dick against her pussy.
“Oh, Nina,” he moaned, pressing his cock against the flower petal folds of her center. She grinned, and her eyes fluttered in pure joy. “You’re so wet,” he said, and he pushed his dick into the warm inside of her.
“Oh yes,” she cried. “Yes. And it’s all for you.” And she pressed her hands down hard upon his back, gripped his ass, forced him to thrust harder, deeper inside of her, so that Rowan was driving himself deep within her, sweat pouring down his face, Nina’s breasts leaping up and down against his lips, her hair a perfect frame of golden red lust, their love bursting across the room in moans and yelps and sweat and grabbing, red nails dragging down his back, his dark hair kissing Nina’s nipples as he pressed himself into her, their eyes connecting and finally, finally, they both exploded, gasping and rolling over each other, gripping at each other, willing the trembling moment to forever remain, longing to stay forever tangled within the centre of each others’ most pure and honest bliss.
Rowan gasped for breath as Nina shuddered blissfully against his chest. They clutched each other, both of them heaving and running their hands over each others’ naked bodies, recovering, uncovering. They stayed that way for a long time, simply lying in the fading sunlight, dazzled by the intensity of their love, their lust, clutching each other for all it was worth.
Then, Nina laughed. Rowan stopped and stared at her electric eyes, his heart leaping in joy.
“What is it?” he asked, brushing fond fingers gently through her hair.
Nina stared up at him, her lips twisting into a smile.
“Who’d have thought,” she asked. “That we would both end up happiest, in the middle of fucking nowhere?”
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Silver and Bold
By Amber Burns
The following story is full of romance, sex and sensuality. See the preview below for a bit of foreplay.
Thomas kissed her temple as he slowly wrapped her scarf around her eyes. That very first moment of being deprived of her eyesight, Enya felt shivers run through her whole body. She panicked and her first thought was to ask him to release her.
