by S. K Munt
Ivyanne got to her feet, stacking Lincoln’s plate on top of hers. ‘I’m twenty-eight,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t know who ‘me’ is yet. But yes, I liked it.’
Tristan handed her his plate, trying to attract her gaze, but she kept her head down. Lincoln was right to say that the Seaview pad was very un-Ivyanne. Had she wanted to live there, because she wanted to be closer to him after his ‘passing’ ? The thought made him warm all over.
‘I’ll stack these in the dishwasher,’ Ivyanne said, making her way to Saraya. ‘But then I need some sleep.’
‘But it’s so early,’ Lincoln protested.
‘Ivyanne’s been sleeping a lot,’ Saraya said. ‘It’s a depression thing.’
Everybody turned to look at her. She winced. ‘I did it again, didn’t I?’
‘It’s okay, guilty as charged.’ Ivyanne chuckled. ‘But I’ve spent seventy five percent of that time staring at the roof, not actually sleeping. So I’m depressed yes, but not lazy.’
Lincoln looked concerned. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘Yeah. Be patient with me. I am mer, and apparently I have strong DNA-’ she winked at Saraya. ‘I’ll bounce back.’
‘I’m with you on that,’ Tristan said. ‘I’m wiped after that massive meal. Besides, I want to be in bed by eleven, anyway, and I still need to shower.’
Ivyanne’s lips pursed, like she was trying not to smile. But even the tips of her ears were pink this time. Tristan loved the fact that he could still make her blush, even when Lincoln was right there in the room.
‘I’ll show you where your room is Tristan,’ Pintang offered quietly.
‘Thanks.’ Tristan said, though he was sorry Ivyanne hadn’t offered.
‘I’ll help you Ivyanne,’ Lincoln said, standing up and expertly collecting all five glasses in one hand. ‘It’d be good if you could show me to where I’m sleeping too. I’ll get lost in this place.’
‘Sure,’ Ivyanne led Lincoln inside, who turned to wave with his free hand, winking at Tristan then grinning smugly.
Tristan kept his expression set to ‘poker face’ so Lincoln wouldn’t get too much enjoyment out of the moment. He had felt hope when he’d overheard Ivyanne cooling things off with Lincoln after her parents had died, but he’d barely seen her since, and had been beginning to lose heart. However, her revelations that afternoon had fanned the flames of his confidence to the point of rocket ignition-it was clear that she had missed him.
But what part of him did she miss? His words? His conversation? Or the multiple Orgasms? Tristan was determined to find out. Starting with the orgasms.
*
‘This is your room,’ Ivyanne reached around and the door and suddenly, the room was filled with light. Lincoln squinted, still disorientated from the quick tour she’d just taken him on.
‘Whoa,’ he whistled under his breath. ‘This is swish.’ He stepped onto the polished timber floors in his socked-feet, taking in the space. The room was enormous and spartan in it’s fixings. One massive corner window wrapped around the two outer walls, and a large security shutter had been drawn over it. Topaz-colored drapes dangled from the curtains tracks, and other touches of that color were picked up in various throw pillows. The surfaces were polished and free of clutter, the carpets new and plush, the ceiling high and edged with elaborate cornice.
‘You should see mine,’ Ivyanne said, slinging his rucksack onto the bed as the door clicked shut behind her.
‘Is that an invitation?’ Lincoln asked, unable to resist.
She looked heavenward, tightening her ponytail. ‘Tristan is rubbing off on you, isn’t he?’
Lincoln rolled his eyes, annoyed by her inference. ‘Ivyanne I was always a flirt. You just rendered me speechless most of the time.’
‘Then I’m flattered.’ She pinched his cheek. ‘But no, we will not be touring my bedroom tonight.’ She handed him a small remote. ‘Those shutters are battery operated. Just set the alarm clock and they’ll open on the first snooze.’
‘Cool. So…’ Lincoln glanced around and smiled at her, feeling the tension of the moment as he clutched the remote and wondered if he should reach for her.
‘I better go to bed,’ Ivyanne was twiddling her thumbs in front of her bare mid section. ‘Good night Link. It was... nice to see you again...’ she moved to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm.
‘That’s it?’ he said softly. ‘No kiss good night?”
The politeness left Ivyanne’s eyes, revealing the longing beneath. ‘You know we shouldn’t.’
‘No one can see us,’ he said, cupping her chin and stroking her jaw with his thumb. ‘One kiss won’t get me killed.’
Her eyes were wide. ‘But-’
If Lincoln had needed further proof to confirm his suspicions about her feelings for Tristan, the hesitation in her eyes was evidence enough. She wasn’t just feeling concerned-she was struggling with guilt!
Lincoln’s hopes were sinking fast. All afternoon he’d watched Ivyanne and Tristan interact carefully, noting how things had changed. The constant bickering that had been present before had gone, and had been replaced with an awkward kind of distance that seemed to have physical, but not mental boundaries. They didn’t touch. They barely addressed one another-but when they did, a charge passed between them so obviously that Lincoln felt as though a forcefield had dropped between him and them.
Tristan was in love with her. Really and actually in love with her. Lincoln had doubted before but he didn’t now. The guy was on the level, and as vulnerable as Lincoln himself.
Ivyanne on the other hand, was harder to read, as always. Lincoln could see that she was still suspect of Tristan’s motivations, and yet the way she looked at him was so laden with desire that it was almost painful for Lincoln to observe.
Ivyanne wanted to sleep with Tristan again. She didn’t really believe he was there, and wouldn’t come to terms with the reality of the choice she had to make until she’d cleared her mind of his bedazzlement. She needed to know that Tristan was just a man, not a ghost. Only then would his presence stop haunting her.
Part of Lincoln broke at the realization, but that crack allowed something to sneak out and work his less giving and patient will, bypassing the do-gooder veil guarding his natural urges to protect her fragile mental state.
He brought his mouth down on Ivyanne’s savagely, winding his hands around her long and fluffy ponytail, crushing her mouth into his. The taste of her brought him instant relief, numbing the pain, and he explored her mouth like she was the antidote to a crippling physical condition.
Ivyanne responded more eagerly than her body language had prepared him for, practically knocking him over with her enthusiastic response and leaving no doubt that she still very much desired him, if not him alone. He’d seen that too but now he grew stiff and hard in his slacks as he felt her body heat envelop him. He pressed it into her thigh and a small sound escaped her-a cross between a moan and a sob and she stretched up onto her tiptoes, kissing him with renewed passion that only made his need for her worse.
Lincoln caught her waist and crushed her to him, bending her back so that he could explore her mouth more deeply. He wanted to roam her with his hands, to strip her and make love to her up against the wall, but he didn’t dare let one single finger stray-to cross the line between embrace and debasement. Holding onto the new queen was like trying to hold onto a firefly in your hand-you couldn’t help but crave the light, to trap it for yourself, but once it was in your hand, it began to fade, scared and lost, and broke your heart with it’s fading beauty.
All he could do was wait, with his palm open-anticipating the day she would land there willingly.
As though she’d read his mind, Ivyanne pushed him back slightly against the bed and crawled over him, the speed of her kisses slowing, the depth increasing. His heart rate followed suit becoming a steady thump that made him dizzy and he was grateful that he no longer had to support their combined weight. He wanted to be excit
ed that she was laying him out-wanted to milk the moment, but his muscles suddenly felt heavy and unmanned-like a puppet with severed strings.
Drowning. He was literally drowning in his love for her.
Ivyanne broke the kiss off with a soft gasp, taking his oxygen with him. His eyes fluttered open, and then he grinned to discover that her perfect figure had grown blurry around the edges.
‘You were draining me!’ He said slowly, feeling giddy and heavy simultaneously. The last time he’d felt this way was when Grace had begun to give him her energy at the engagement party-after he’d restored Ivyanne’s life force with his own. He’d almost blacked out then, and apparently, his life had been in peril because of it-not that he’d been aware of much other than the feel of Ivyanne against him at the time.
Grace, he thought, feeling guilt thread it’s way through his mind now that he didn’t have an active mental blockade. Does she want me like this? Do I hurt her as badly as Ivyanne hurts me? Poor kid! So young!
‘I’m sorry!’ Her hand went to her mouth-her entire face was hard to focus on now-shining green eyes against bronzed skin and little else. ‘That wasn’t intentional! Again!’
‘S’okay,’ he slurred, and it was. Everything was okay-she’d literally kissed him senseless. He didn’t even have the energy to be disappointed that it was over. ‘Feels good, you know, when it’s slow like that….. Like sucking on gas.’
‘How romantic.’ Ivyanne giggled, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. ‘Sorry Lincoln, clearly I have needs, and my body is trying to find a way around my chastity to get what it wants.’
‘That makes two of us then,’ he joked, letting his eyes flutter shut. ‘But anytime you need a fix, feel free to suck on me.’
‘Duly noted,’ Ivyanne slid her hand over his eyelids, and they closed willingly. ‘Goodnight my love. Sweet dreams.’
‘Just started one…’ he whispered as she faded away to blackening pixels. When reality vanished, her lips returned to his.
*
‘Ivyanne said you’d like the room with the art,’ Pintang said, leading Tristan into his room, gesturing to a massive abstract mural on the wall-it had an ocean theme-greens and blues intermingled with purples and blacks-like the ocean in every mood.
‘It’s a great room,’ Tristan said, placing his carry-all onto the floor under the desk, admiring the bulk head in the ceiling and the beautiful treatment on the walls. He chuckled when he saw the gigantic plasma on the wall. ‘That’s a serious T. V.’
‘You can plug your laptop in,’ Pintang pointed out, crossing the room and perching on the edge of his bed. ‘Save your eyes.’
‘Great idea,’ Tristan was pleased to see two desks-it was nice to know that Ivyanne had anticipated him being there often enough to do some work. ‘Can I ask where your room is?’
‘On the ground floor, to the right of the front door. First the security room, then Saraya, then our bathroom, then me.’ Pintang said. ‘The guest house is right near us-no one’s in there yet though.’
Tristan was trying to see the layout in his head. ‘So not where I snuck in?’
‘No Garridan found you on the left side of the house, outside the laundry. A little courtyard separates it from the rest of the house-though it’s got a roof to keep rain out, so would have looked joined from above.’
‘Ahh….’ Tristan made a note to explore later on. ‘And Garridan?’
‘Up here of course, next to you and across from Link-they each have a small private balcony. Two rooms on either side of the hall, but the one next to you is still empty-it has twin beds.’ Pintang pointed to the door he’d assumed to be a closet. ‘You share a bathroom with that room, and Lincoln and Garridan share another. The main bathroom with the spa, is downstairs.’
‘And Ivyanne?’
She smiled knowingly. ‘She’s has the entire third floor-well, accept for this one empty room, which I suppose it’s intended to be a nursery eventually. It’s a suite really, with her en-suite and spa.’ Pintang smiled. ‘It’s incredible, and it’s only accessible from the interior stairs. Garridan likes it that way. No one will be able to sneak in there.’
Tristan sat next to her. ‘Is that a warning?’ he asked lightly.
She shot him a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry you’re still going through this,’ she said softly. ‘After everything you went through... I think it’s crazy that Ivyanne hasn’t thrown herself at your feet.’
Tristan lay back on the bed. ‘That’s nice of you to say,’ he said softly, trying to deduce her mood from her body language. They hadn’t been alone together since the dinner Ardhi had interrupted two months before. ‘I was wondering how you were taking….all of this.’
Pintang turned to him, her blue eyes large with remorse. ‘I’m sorry for the scene I made that night,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve apologized to Ivyanne too. I was so jealous, I couldn’t see straight-’ she raked her eyes over him.
Tristan watched her face carefully. ‘And now…?’
‘I’ve stopped holding my breath.’ Pintang smiled. ‘The way you love her... I can see it now, and now that I have, I couldn’t bear seeing it diluted if you had to settle for me instead.’
Tristan was caught between wanting to make her feel better, and not wanting to lead her on. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said softly.
Pintang shrugged. ‘Sometimes, we don’t have to say anything.’ She stood up. ‘Besides if I can’t have you as my husband, then I at least want you as my king. Regardless of her feelings, I don’t think anyone doubts that you’re the best man for that job Loveridge. And I think Ivyanne knows it more than she’s willing to let on.’
Tristan got up and embraced her. ‘I kind of love you, you know that?’
She grinned at him. ‘I kind of love you too,’ she kissed him on the cheek, then backed away. ‘Good night.’
The door shut behind her with a click of finality.
4.
Ivyanne soaked in her private spa after she’d bade Lincoln good night, and had a good cry while she was at it. Not over the boys, for that one amazing kiss with Lincoln not withstanding, she was actually holding up better than she’d expected-but over her parents.
It was important for Ivyanne to look strong in front of others-she had the kingdom’s support, but it was their faith she needed. So she held herself together by day, and allowed herself half an hour every night to lie in the bath infused with rock salt and frangipani blooms and cry, reflecting on her parent’s lives, and the words they’d spoken to her, and the way the millions of frangipani’s had floated on the water during the memorial, and the splash of offerings the guests had thrown into the sea.
That had been Ivyanne’s fourth memorial, but her first official one as queen. The crown on her head had felt like barbed wire. She would never forget the loss or the loneliness she’d felt that day. The pain was ebbing away, as it was destined to, like a dune being broken down by a tide, but her heart felt hollow, without having a man to hold her this time, to heal her with his body, as Lincoln had assisted her in the aftermath of Tristan’s accident. She’d felt herself begin to drain Lincoln earlier that night, and it had been hard to stop. He had such a light within him, and she craved it.
And he’d smelled like apples, cinnamon, new car and that certain ‘Seaview’ scent she couldn’t associate with anything, but almost needed to draw in a full breath on land. She’d wanted to bury her face in his shirt and inhale him until his light was hers.
Ivyanne sat down at her small dining table after she was toweled and dressed in her pajamas, feeling like a swim, but knowing she couldn’t. Garridan didn’t allow her to swim alone anymore, and he’d already indulged her in a four hour frolic in the bay after lunch, even though she’d begged him to take her out for two hours at sundown. Having the saltwater pool helped-but it was still like eating the sugar-free variety of some treat you were craving.
Ivyanne idly flipped through her notebook for twenty minutes, the one Saraya had given her. Every
morning, Saraya took calls, opened letters and read e-mails from their people, and after sorting them, presented them to Ivyanne to scroll through and attempt to deal with. There was no council or board of directors, no government-when her people needed her help, they had a direct line to her. It took anywhere from an hour to two hours to adjudicate daily. Most mers were self-sufficient, but some still needed a hand, especially those in smaller, more isolated villages who were trying to benefit a community, either by needing assistance with clean drinking water, requiring loans to build schools or houses, or simply reporting health issues.
After awhile, Ivyanne stopped reading and stretched her back, yawning. That day, she’d received quite a few calls regarding Ardhi. It was amazing how many of them were keeping an eye out for the Kayu-Api boy who had started a war with the royal family. Ivyanne had put a million dollar bounty on his head, and offered a knight-hood, but it still didn’t seem adequate. Ivyanne was starting her reign with a very dark cloud over her crown, and she wanted it gone.
That thought made her glance at the journal she’d found in Ardhi’s stuff the night after he’d broken her heart and stripped her of her family. She’d noticed him reading it once or twice, and was keen to see what had fascinated him so. But so far, it just seemed like a scant collection of various mer-mythology that held little fact. As much as she wanted to read the whole thing, she sighed and pushed it to the back of the table, vowing to take it to bed with her instead. Business first, intrigue after.
She reached for a leaflet of pages instead, frowning down at them in concentration-it was a sketch of the measures she wanted to take in Seaview Bay, to rid it of the shark nets and drum lines and replace them with an enclosure. She’d already mentioned her desire to install a swimming enclosure for the tourists-keeping the sharks separate from the humans but free to roam their own grounds, but Lincoln had seemed less than enthused at the amount of work that kind of thing would entail.
