by Cherry Kay
“How was your walk?” he asked her.
“Quiet,” she told him.
“Just the way you like it?”
“Just the way we like it,” she corrected him.
He didn’t comment on that further. “Dinner’s almost ready. We can wait in my study, if you want.”
She followed him, and saw a sliding door ajar. It was a room she wanted to see, but did not, out of respect. His study was clean, filled with neatly arranged books which looked like they were never read. She was surprised to see law and medical books.
“I like to read,” he said, noticing the look in her eyes.
There was a large window that looked out onto the bay. His villa had the most amazing views, and it was sad he didn’t have anyone to share this with during his moments of solitude.
“You like it here?” she asked him.
“Do you?” he retorted.
“I’m getting the hang of it,” Caryn told him. “The people here are nice.”
“You’ve met most of the people I’ve met,” David said. “Did Leilani tell you anything?”
She shook her head. “Not much. Just that you lived alone, and your family isn’t here all the time.”
David took a deep breath. “Well, we all work.”
“What do you do?” she asked him.
“Stuff,” he responded shortly. “Nothing illegal. It’s been estimated that your place will take three days to repair. I’ve asked someone to hire more help.”
“I can’t--” she stopped, seeing the look on his face.
“You’ll pay me back when you can, and if you can,” he told her.
“What if I can’t?”
“I’m sure you’ll find ways. Besides, Mr. Kahele is an institution in this island.”
She frowned a little. Did he want her to pay, or not? She was merely renting the place… Caryn stood beside the window, trying to make sense of her current situation. She wasn’t doing a good job as a journalist. He was the subject, and yet he was the distraction.
And what was it with his presence that made her awkward? It was like high school all over again. He was just a man, a man who had his own demons to face, as she had her own…
“How’s your leg?” he asked her.
“It’s better,” Caryn replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Why are you asking me that?” he looked at her quizzically.
“You’ve been busy the whole day,” she reasoned.
“I’m fine,” he said, dismissing her query. He checked his wristwatch. “It’s time for dinner. Hope you don’t mind a vegetarian one.”
She shook her head. She hadn’t had the opportunity, or rather, she hadn’t picked up healthy habits since college. She had been sleep-deprived for so long, she had forgotten what it was like to sleep early and wake up early. A vegetarian dinner was subtly forced onto her, and she knew it was time for healthier habits. The island had canned meats, but it was obvious they liked their fresh dishes better.
The dining area (one of the three, as she was to find out) was devoid of other people. It was as if his household staff left immediately after finishing all their chores, without bothering to bid him farewell. Leilani didn’t seem to complain about David Pierce, or maybe she was too afraid to complain? But they seemed quietly happy working for him a few times a week.
“Where’s?” she began, but then she stopped.
“Leilani and the rest?” he continued for her. “They left earlier.”
“So, who made dinner?” she asked.
“I did,” he replied, “While you were out walking.”
“Oh,” she said lamely. She wanted to say she could have helped, she wanted to say she was just as adept in the kitchen as he was, but she said nothing and just bit her lower lip in the end. “Thanks again.”
“For what?” he asked her as they sat down.
“For housing me,” she replied, knowing full well she was unwelcome.
He nodded. “You’re welcome, enjoy dinner.”
Chapter5
She wasn’t unwelcome, David thought, if she assumed that, and it was highly likely she did. He had been aloof, quiet, and near unfriendly, something he had wanted to suppress. It just came naturally, it wasn’t his fault, right? He disliked his conscience playing on him. That was why he avoided personally meeting and socializing with people in the first place, he didn’t want to feel the need to help, and he didn’t want to be burdened with his humanitarian tendencies. Kindness was the closest to intimacy…
They had eaten their dinner in silence, and she excused herself to lie down on her bed, telling him she felt tired, and thanking him for dinner. He didn’t know her that well, but he knew she was hiding something, something that changed her as a person. She was like him in a way, only, she forced herself to talk to him, to be nicer than the usual.
She wanted something from him, didn’t she? He shook his head, trying to concentrate on reading a history book. He didn’t bother to offer her a change in bandages, instead, he simply told her there was a first aid kit in the guest shower room. She seemed like a person who had gone through a lot. There was some sorrow in her eyes she couldn’t mask, no matter how polite she was. He had observed her while she was eating, and it seemed like she forced herself to chow down all the vegetables on her plate.
He picked up a book, determined to silence the thoughts currently playing in his mind. It was his old high school book on coding, and he flipped through the pages, reminiscing those times he had taught himself programing. He saw his little notes on the corners of the pages.
I’ve gotten this far, he told himself, I’m not backing down. His gaze lingered across the hallway, where Caryn rested. He knew if he asked her questions, she was going to ask back about him. Would it be best to maintain their relationship as that of two strangers? She was moving out as soon as the repairs were complete, then they could go on with their separate lives.
Getting to know people was complicated, it meant investments beyond what he could afford to give, the emotional kind- he just wasn’t ready, yet, even for mere friendship. He had told himself he had to get a grip over it, they were all adults, after all. He just couldn’t. The door to her room slid open, and he watched as she slipped out, pausing to look at him.
The light from behind her bathed her figure, and the sheer pajamas she had showed the curves of her body. He found himself swallowing some saliva, remembering the night she had chosen to skinny-dip…
He stood up, and watched her as she headed for the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Would you like some whisky?” he asked her, following her.
She shook her head. “I’ve got my nerves patched up, thanks.”
“Who are you?” he asked her, unable to control his queries any longer.
She put the glass down on the counter. “Caryn.”
“Caryn,” David repeated. “Who are you?”
“Why?” she said frowning, “I thought we were better off with our first names.”
“I’m not comfortable with a stranger in my home,” he breathed out quietly.
“I’m Caryn. I’m a writer,” she said stubbornly. “You’re David, you’re my neighbor, and you helped me when I thought no one else would.”
Somehow, he felt she wasn’t lying about the writer part. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked her.
Her eyes narrowed and flinched a little. “I have an idea who you are. You’re David. You’re on some sort of exile, and the question is, why?”
He was taken aback by what she had said, not expecting her to be so bold. “Why would you think that?” he questioned her, taking a seat on a high chair. His blue eyes became colder, and he felt his spine stiffen.
“You’re alone in a large house, you don’t want people you don’t know around you- which obviously includes me, you have CCTV cameras installed in corners where you think no one’s going to notice it.” “But obviously, you did,” he said, much to his irritation. He did have other far more obscure
ones, the majority were in his office on the second floor.
“I’m a writer. I observe things.”
“And you’ve probably observed that I don’t like talking about my personal life.”
“You asked about me,” she told him. “I’m asking about you.”
“Alright. I’m David James,” he told her.
“Is that your second name or your last?” Caryn asked him.
“I think you know who I am,” he said.
“Don’t be too full of yourself,” she retorted, and he felt heat flush on his face. He was glad the lights were dim, at least too dim for her to notice.
“I think you do,” he said in a quiet, unwavering voice. He had a feeling she did. He had been fooled too many times…
“You’re David J. Pierce,” she finally said. “I saw the diploma in your study.”
He almost laughed aloud. No wonder, huh? “What else have you read about me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know you too well, but you’re egoistic and smart.”
He nodded, her words had hit home. “Thank you for the observation. I’m actually both, and more,” he told her, his posture more relaxed. “What else do you judge me for?”
“You’ve been hurt before, I don’t know who hurt you, but I’m starting to think you weren’t this insensitive before,” she added, looking at him intently.
He nodded. “Close enough. You’re here on a mission,” he said, knowing it was high time he said what he thought about her. “It’s by hook or by crook, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what you plan to do, but it’s something that could affect your future,” David added, relishing the thought that he found her quite easy to read. “You feel its best you’re left alone because you’ve been hurt before as well. You see, Caryn, I’m not the only one running away from the bullshit that’s entered my life.”
He saw her take a breath. “I’m not running away from anything.”
“Then tell me, how many homes have you lived in before moving here? Your personal belongings are pitiful at best. You have no one to go home to, do you.” There was the sound of a resounding slap that echoed in the kitchen, reaching all the way to the dining area. David blinked, realizing she had slapped his face. He felt the throbbing pain come from the left side of his cheek, and he saw Caryn recoil, surprised that she had done that. He couldn’t react for a few seconds, as the weight of what she had done began to sink in him…
“I- I’m sorry,” she gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “I didn’t mean to- I-”
He looked at her, and he saw the defiance that still remained in her eyes. She didn’t mean it, but she relished in the fact that she had done so. She wanted to slap him for the pain he had inflicted on her. It was only right, wasn’t it?
“Do you get a kick out of putting people in their place?” he asked her, his voice sounding low and dangerous.
She shook her head. “No- I, I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t, he thought. Her pride had come into play, and she was probably gloating deep inside. He still felt the sting on his face, but he didn’t do anything about it.
“You were waiting for that to happen, weren’t you?” he continued, feeling some quiet rage in him beginning to well up. He didn’t realize he had wanted a fight so badly, some intellectual discourse with a stranger who had slept under his roof. He needed a fight. How the fight was going to end, he didn’t care. He had been prodded by her, he wasn’t the only one who needed this.
He saw her chest heave up and down in rapid succession, and he knew she was just as angry as he was. Her normally green eyes had darkened out of anger.
“So, what if I was?” she breathed out. “You think you can go on and say all the nasty things you want just because you saved me?” “You needed it, you were a sitting duck out there,” David told her with a smug look on his face. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here, standing in my kitchen, arguing with me about who is nice and who isn’t.”
“You’re a selfish bastard,” Caryn told him without batting an eyelash.
“I’ve heard that comment a few times,” he said, remembering how people had said it to him after he had packed up and left California. “Sometimes, being selfish is important for one’s wellbeing.”
He saw her fall silent, and he didn’t say anything. He was here to recuperate from what he had gone through, and he was still recuperating even after all those years. Why was she here? To heal from something as well? She was running away from something, and he didn’t know what it was, yet.
“I don’t want to be selfish, I don’t want to end up like you, a recluse--” she began.
“Who can do anything he wants to do.”
“Just because you have money,” she interrupted him.
“Is it a crime to have money?” he snapped at her, “I worked hard for this, and without this money, I wouldn’t have fixed your little escape hut.” “Don’t you dare --” “Do what? Say what? I can say anything I want. I’m not related to you, you mean nothing to me, you’re someone I don’t know, you’re someone I picked up underneath a tin roof.”
“Stop it!” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut. She squeezed her palms tightly, and he saw her face contort, strained by his actuations and his words.
He meant nothing to her, and yet, seeing her shut herself away from the world, if only for a little while, aroused him. He tried to stop the thoughts, he tried to stop the mounting desire in his loins, but all he could see was her naked body, pinned down against his…
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked her the moment she opened her eyes.
She nodded, slowly, her eyes wide with the realization of what was about to happen.
Without another word, he took a step closer to her, and crushed her mouth with his.
*
Caryn couldn’t pull back from him. His kiss was demanding, and for a moment, she felt as if she were drowning, lost in the fast currents of the Pacific Ocean. He had cut her off, quite effectively at that, grabbing her roughly by the hair..
She couldn’t resist him at all, and then her lips moved against his. One hand trailed down to her neck as David pressed himself against Caryn and their kisses grew fervent and hard. She gasped when his free hand found its way to one breast and he fondled it as they continued kissing. What was happening? She had hated him just seconds ago…
She felt his hand skimming over her shoulder, and she realized she wanted this,that her pajama top was too loose on her. Was that a good thing or bad thing? Was this the reason why he kissed her all of a sudden? She softly moaned, unable to stop herself from giving in to his kisses and caresses.
Caryn relished the desire that stole through her. How long had it been since she was touched like this? Only a lover could do this to her, and she wanted to remember it all. David’s free hand roamed down as he continued to kiss her. Then his hand slid further, all the way down, while his tongue trailed on her neck and she found herself writhing. She felt his erection rubbing against her thighs, as he pressed her against the kitchen counter.
“Let’s do this somewhere else,” he told her in a raspy voice, quickly holding her hand, pulling her towards the living room where a wrought iron chandelier shone overhead. He pushed her on the couch, and her head landed unevenly on the pillow. Underneath the gleam of the warm lights, his steely blue eyes glowed with fire.
He tore open her top, and the buttons easily plopped off of it, and with one selfish hand, he cupped one breast tightly, and he began to suckle on it. She couldn’t help but gasp aloud. He did the same for the next breast, and then his tongue licked the underside of it, trailing his lips down to her navel. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, almost afraid to exhale. The moment his tongue reached her hipbone, she found herself thrashing, but he held her down, continuing the ecstasy and the torture. He brushed a finger against her folds, and she shuddered.
“You’re wet,” he whispered to her
, his face almost triumphant.
She didn’t care at that moment, she didn’t care about her pride. All she wanted was for him to touch her, for him to make sweet, sweet love to her. She felt herself pulsate, knowing he was getting her wetter than ever.
She saw the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow. With a grunt, she heard him fling away his sweatpants. She wriggled underneath him, taking off her pajamas, until they hung onto one ankle. David’s hard manhood caressed her bare thigh, and she saw the way his face twisted in excitement, knowing he was close to the pleasure spot he had been wanting to have.
With one hand on the couch’s headrest, and another pinning Caryn’s arms over her head, he thrust himself into her, and she moaned aloud, surprised by the sudden force and pleasure combined.
Caryn closed her eyes, and she began to writhe underneath him, her hips thrusting in unison to his. Manically, he drove into her again and again, and she panted, trying to keep up with the ferocity of the lovemaking.
Their sweaty bodies intertwined, and as she looked into his eyes, she knew she couldn’t help but be swept away by the deluge of lovemaking and lust.
*
What he had done had begun to sink into him, and he knew she was feeling the same way. What was more awkward than fumbling for clothing after that torrid session of sex? It was just sex, wasn’t it? They were just caught up in the heat of the moment.
“You okay?” he found himself asking her, knowing how rough he had been earlier. He suddenly felt unsure about his actions, unsure of what to say. Asking her if she was okay was the right thing to say, was it not.
He saw her nod, and in a soft voice, she said “yes.” .
“Okay,” he said, grabbing his sweatpants from the floor. She was quickly trying to put her pajamas on, but then he had torn her top open.
“I’ll get you a new one,” he told her quickly. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” she said, her lips pursing. She held onto the middle part of her blouse, so as to keep her breasts from peeking out. He closed his eyes, realizing he was growing hard again. He cleared his throat.
