by A D Seeley
“Play what?” she asked, giggling.
“Angel versus Devil. You know, like, ‘Hara, God wouldn’t want you to hang on to a man so closely,’” he said, his voice all sugar. Letting a wicked glint in his eyes match his wicked smile, he added, “‘Hara, you know you want to live on the wild side. Besides, it will get you closer to Inac. You can hang on to him for dear life. You know you want to.’”
Hara’s face was red, a combination of embarrassment and laughing as hard as she was.
“And then how would the angel reply?” she asked, almost clapping her hands like the little girl inside her mind was probably doing.
All sugar again, “‘Hara, no! If you go with him, you’ll be tempted to do something immoral! You know what he does to you. If you hold on to him, you’ll want to kiss him!’”
“And how would the devil respond to that?”
He was glad that she liked this game as much as she did; especially since it was making Tracker angrier by the second.
“Well, the devil would respond by saying something along the lines of, ‘Hehehehehe. Yeah, you do know exactly how he makes you feel. How good he makes you feel. And kissing? What are you, five?’” he said as he walked closer to her until both his body and face were almost touching hers. “‘You know you want him to do much more than that to you.’” He knew the combination of his words and actions would get the reaction he was after from her.
She opened her mouth, taking in shallow gasps that made her chest quickly rise and fall. He was about to kiss her, an exclamation point to his words, when Tracker grabbed her arm and pulled her back, the air rushing between them like a slap in the face.
“Hara, don’t you see? He’s just playing with you! He isn’t even trying to hide it. Don’t you see how blatant he’s being? He just wants to sleep with you! And, once he has, he’s gonna hurt you.”
Tracker was right on all counts but, if Inac had learned anything about Hara, it was that she didn’t like being challenged. A part of her wanted to be rebellious. The part that Inac had woken up in her that he knew she’d had no idea had been sleeping inside of her.
Hara raised her chin in defiance, which told Inac that she would go with him just to prove to Tracker that she would do what she wanted.
She turned to Inac, grabbed the shorts from his hands, and put them on under her hunter green knee-length skirt right then and there as Inac placed her backpack in her car and then her keys in the bullet bike’s storage bin.
“Hara? Please?” Tracker begged as she headed for the bike. He looked like he was going to cry. “You’re a good girl. Please don’t go with him!”
Inac was already on the bike, helping Hara onto it behind him. Once she was situated, he tied her skirt up to her hip on one side so it wouldn’t blow into the back tire.
Just as she was about to put on the helmet, she turned and called back to Tracker, “You can’t be good all the time!”
***
As Hara held her arms tight around Inac’s tapered waist, she couldn’t stop obsessing over the fact that only his flimsy T-shirt was between her hands and his bare stomach. That and the fact that her thighs were pressed against his, and her chest was against his back. She hoped that, if he could feel her heartbeat, he would assume that it was elevated because of the ride and not because of her proximity to him…which of course was the real reason.
She was sure the ride would be exciting, but she couldn’t pay attention to anything but him at the moment. She just wished that she didn’t have the helmet on so she could smell him. He wouldn’t even know that that was what she was doing because she had the innocent excuse of keeping the wind out of her face by pressing her cheek against his back.
A small part of her felt bad about how she had left Tracker, though. He had looked like he was going to cry when she’d made the decision to go with Inac. She knew that Track had good intentions, but did he really believe she would sleep with Inac just because the guy turned her on? He should know better than that. That’s why she’d said exactly what would anger him. She hadn’t really meant it about not wanting to be good all the time, she’d just wanted him to get over himself. Sometimes he was just too overprotective for his own good.
Her guilt fled when they stopped at a red light and Inac put one hand on hers at his stomach before lightly brushing his fingertips up her arm.
“You doing okay?” he called, peeking at her over his shoulder.
Of course she was okay. She had the sexiest man she’d ever met sending tingles throughout her entire body with his touch. She didn’t say that, though. What she said was, “I’m doing great! I’ve never felt so alive!” If he knew the way he made her feel then she’d really be in trouble.
He laughed, still tickling her arm. “I know. Don’t you find that riding heightens all of your senses?”
“Oh, it definitely does that,” she agreed. But riding wasn’t what was heightening her senses. That honor belonged to him.
“Is it making you cold? You have goose bumps.”
Another honor that belonged to him. She hadn’t had them until he’d begun his light caress. But it was sweet that he was so concerned.
“No. I’m not cold. Just part of the heightened senses.” After saying that, she realized that that had sounded exactly the way she’d meant it. Embarrassed, she squeezed his waist tighter as she ducked her head.
Again, he only laughed. But this time he followed it by bringing one of her hands to his mouth. Ever so gently, he kissed the knuckle on her thumb before lowering it back down to his waist. If he kept doing things like that, then maybe Tracker was right in reminding her that she was a good girl. He was wrong about Inac but, right now, she didn’t think even her cross could keep her from physical intimacy if Inac tried. He just had that much of an effect on her. It was like his pheromones were waking a side of her that she didn’t even know she had. After twenty-three years, she finally knew what lust felt like. And wow, did it feel good.
But was it really lust if she thought about spending time and getting to know him more than she thought about kissing him? Was this just what chemistry felt like? She wished she knew.
When the light turned green, Inac gunned it, sending her into a fit of giggles from the momentary fear she felt. There was just something about Inac that made her feel reckless…and she loved it. For the first time in her life, she felt truly alive instead of just going through the motions.
Hara closed her eyes so that her other senses could take over. It was amazing. Like flying while being anchored to sunlight—Inac was the sunlight since being near him warmed her from head to toe.
After some time, Inac stopped and turned off the bike, causing Hara to groan with disappointment; she hadn’t ever wanted the ride to end. Inac got off before helping her to the ground as well. She looked around as she took off her helmet, shaking out her blonde waves as she did so. They were now at the harbor next to a massive, gleaming, sleek white boat.
“So did you like it?” Inac asked with a smile.
She laughed. “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Just wait for later,” he said, cracking another smile that she was sure could charm even the iciest of hearts.
She felt her face flush at the insinuation between his words. To hide it, she took a deep breath of salty air. It smelled strange to her for, though she’d lived in Los Angeles for a few years now, she’d never gone to the beach or been this close to the ocean before. Of course, the aroma of the sea air had fallen over the city plenty of times, but it was stronger here, the lapping waves pushing the scent into the light breeze ruffling her hair.
“So?” she asked. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan is to go sailing,” he answered, pointing at the boat.
“Oh…. Is this your boat?”
He threw her a sideways grin. “Yacht.”
“What?”
“It’s a yacht.”
Did that mean that it wasn’t technically a boat? She
didn’t understand at all. It was probably just a rich person’s way of making their boat sound special or something.
Aiming to hide her ignorance, she asked, “Is it safe?”
“Extremely. It’s a hell of a lot safer than that ride you just took with me.”
She threw him a disapproving glare and said, “Can you not swear in front of me, please?”
He gave her an odd look back, but didn’t say anything before taking her hand and helping her walk up a metal walkway and onto the boat, which was so big it wasn’t lobbing up and down with the waves of the sea like the other, smaller boats around were. She hoped it was as safe as he said because she didn’t know how to swim. And yet, although she didn’t know how, something told her that Inac wouldn’t let her drown. Besides, the railings were high on the boat—the yacht—and the weather was perfect, without a cloud in the sky. There really wasn’t anything to make her fall into the ocean in the first place.
She watched as Inac readied the boat, not asking questions because he seemed to be concentrating on the task at hand. In order to start the boat, he ended up disappearing for a few minutes. She couldn’t see the steering wheel or whatever because the boat was so big, so she sat there, thinking about the fact that maybe Inac really did like her. Before long the boat started moving over the glittering cerulean ocean. She wanted to go watch it move along the water, but she was afraid she’d fall overboard if she did. Besides, Inac had told her to stay put, so she’d do as he said. When he finally came back, he laughed aloud.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Not only did you literally not move like I told you not to, but your skirt’s still tied up in a knot.”
She looked down at where her hunter green skirt was tied at her hip, her hair lightly kissing the knot. She was about to untie it herself but Inac beat her to it, slowly working his hands around the fabric as he gazed into her eyes—or at least her lids, because she was watching his agile fingers.
“Thank you,” she said as she finally met his gaze. His advances were making her shy.
“You’re welcome,” he answered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
He was going to kiss her and she didn’t know what she should do to let him know that it was okay. What had she seen in the few movies Crystal and Tracker had forced her to watch? She couldn’t remember because they’d all been G or PG and hadn’t really dealt with this.
Inac seemed to come closer to her with every moment. She was ready for her first kiss, her mouth instinctually parting slightly in wait. Just before his sensitive mouth was to meet hers, he pulled back, the air rushing between them, shocking her back to her senses.
“I had dinner made for us. Why don’t you sit here and I’ll bring it out?” he said, gesturing at a wooden table on the deck set up with various yellow, purple, sky blue, and white flowers in a vase.
Dazed, she did as he asked. While he was gone, she sat there, wondering why he hadn’t kissed her. Did he not like her? Did he not find her attractive? What was wrong with her that made him not want to kiss her?
He came back with a tray covered in plates as well as a bottle of red wine. The food he placed before her looked delicious, though she wasn’t sure what the meat was. It was basically circular with a long, skinny bone coming out of it.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Lamb,” he said before uncorking the bottle. He then began pouring it into two large wineglasses.
“Oh, I don’t drink,” she said.
He gave her another odd look before saying, “But aren’t you Catholic?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t partake of communion?”
“I do.”
“Then how can you say that you don’t drink?”
“I mean other than communion.”
“If it’s okay for communion, then it’s okay in life.”
“I don’t want to get drunk and lose control of myself.” What she didn’t say was that she didn’t want to lose control when he was around because then she would act completely out of character and end up spending the night with him.
“Just try a sip. I promise that I won’t let you get drunk.”
She felt that he was being honest—he’d been honest about the terrible actions of the Mokolios, so why would he lie to her now?—so she took the glass he was offering and took a small amount of it into her mouth, rolling it around her tongue.
“Wow! That’s good!”
His smile was the largest she had ever seen. With it, his eyes looked younger. Usually he had the weight of the world in his eyes, making him appear like an old soul. The lack of that made him even better looking…if that was even possible.
“Thanks,” he said as he finished pouring her a full glassful of the dark liquid. Once she brought the glass to her lips again he added, “It’s from the sixteenth century.”
She almost spluttered on her second sip. When she could breathe again, she cried, “What?! It must be worth a fortune!”
He shrugged. “The Adamsons own a few vineyards and have an extensive wine collection that is impeccably taken care of. It’s the best collection on the planet. Wine collectors would go nuts for even one bottle from it.”
His family sounded more and more impressive the more she learned about them. Maybe that was why he didn’t kiss her; she was obviously below him. She thought about that all throughout dinner, longing to ask him what was wrong with her, but too nervous to do so.
In an attempt to loosen up a bit, she drank a couple glasses of wine. She was silly to not have had it with dinner before. It calmed and relaxed her. Plus, true to his word, Inac didn’t let her drink more than that, citing that it was a strong wine and any more would be too much.
“You don’t do anything normal, do you?” she asked once dinner was winding down.
“What do you mean?”
“Us. Here. On a yacht. Old wine. Fancy dinner. Odd assortment of flowers,” she said, flicking her hands in the air with each sentence, her wrists relaxed so her hands flopped around—she was sure she probably looked like a floozy.
“Ah. But each flower here has a purpose,” he said, leaning forward in his chair.
“What kind of purpose?” Other than to woo her….
“Well, this one,” he said, picking up an odd-looking purple flower with few petals and a large yellow middle, “is an anemone. It declares the receiver to be fragile.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And what about this one?” she asked, picking up a yellow, stringy flower.
“That’s a chrysanthemum. It means that you have a secret admirer.”
It was the perfect time to ask about why he wouldn’t kiss her, but the insinuation in his words made her nervous. Instead of saying something that would undoubtedly be lame, she picked up a purple daisy.
“And this one?”
“Innocence.”
She set it down and picked up the sky blue one with five petals completely opened, the middle being a tube that went down into the flower shaft.
“Forget-me-not.”
“I can guess what that means,” she said with a smile.
“Yes,” he said with a small closed-mouth grin of his own. “It means that I’ll remember you forever. There’s a story behind that flower, just like there’s one behind the anemone.”
“Really? And what is it?”
“For which?”
“Both.”
“Well, the anemone is said to have sprung up from Adonis’s blood when he died.”
“Who’s Adonis?”
His expression told her that he was surprised she didn’t know who that was. “Adonis was said to be the perfect man, in love with Aphrodite, and she with him. She left to take care of her goddess duties. While she was gone, he was killed. She was so distraught that she made anemones pop up wherever his blood had spilled.”
“That’s sad.”
“Most stories are.” He seemed so sad for a moment that
she couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about all he had lost: his wife and baby; his family.
Eager to change the subject, she asked, “And what about the forget-me-not?”
Brightening, he said, “There are quite a few different versions of that story. However, my personal favorite is that, during medieval times, a knight and his lady were walking along a river. They came across some posies so he picked some for her. However, because his armor was so heavy, he fell into the water. Just before he drowned, he threw a posy to his lady and yelled, ‘Forget-me-not!’”
“You just like the tragic stories, don’t you?” she teased.
“Like I said, most stories are that way. Tragedy speaks of realism. Fairy tales are just that: tales. Tall tales. Life isn’t really like that.”
“What about this purple one?” she asked, touching a slightly bell-shaped flower. She didn’t want to talk about anything depressing at the moment because she didn’t want to cry in front of him; she was a notorious baby and thought that would majorly turn him off.
“Mmm. Hyacinth. It means sincerity. And this last one,” he said, grabbing a white bunch that, up close, consisted of numerous four-petaled flowers. This bunch was all white but, mixed in the bunch still in the vase were ones with violet in the center of each petal ringed with the white as well as completely purple ones. “This last one is lilac. It means first love,” he said, handing it to her.
To hide the rush of emotions she felt, she sniffed it. It had a strong fragrance; a sweet mixture of fruit and floral. She really liked it. It was like heaven.
“And the purple ones? Do they mean anything different?”
For a split second, an emotion she didn’t have time to read showed in his eyes before his pleasant expression took back over. “Yes. Purple ones mean death.”
“So do those purple and white ones mean that my first love will be the death of me?” she teased, still not wanting a somber mood to take over.
He smiled. “Of course not. I just added them to tie everything together better.”
Before she could think of something to say, Inac stood up, reaching a gentlemanly hand out to her. She took it, bringing the white lilac with her. He then walked them over to one of the many built-in light gray couches on the deck to watch the sunset. She felt so relaxed that she couldn’t help but lay back against him. As she settled the back of her head on his chest and placed her long legs on the couch, he wrapped his arms around her. Because he had put them under her arms, leaving hers free, she then placed hers over his. It was as they were playing with each other’s fingers that she finally got the guts to ask him.
