After the Rain (The Twisted Fate Series Book 1)

by Unknown

  “Do you know what’s in Mombasa, Stormy?” Marcus asked, trying to distract her. His hand was on her shoulder now, which was unnecessary because he had finished with the tear-wiping, but somehow it had just gotten stuck there. She shook her head, looking up at him curiously. “Well, its tropical. White beaches, warm blue waters, palm trees… and air-conditioning and icy cold beverages.”

  “It’s hard to imagine something tropical, standing out here in all this dryness.”

  Marcus nodded. “I know. But look…” He pointed down the road. “It’s a mere forty minutes away, as opposed to three hours by car and who knows how many more for someone to find us, or a car to give us a lift, or a tow truck.” Stormy nodded slightly. “We’re going to miss the rehearsal dinner tonight, which sucks, but think about it: at least this way we can enjoy a bit of time there. Explore, go to the beach, swim.”

  Suddenly, the image of Stormy in a bikini frolicking in the waves in slow motion flashed through his mind. A true Baywatch moment. Then the next thought – she didn’t have a bikini… now she was frolicking naked in the waves! Baywatch, the R-rated edition. The helicopter had come into view and was lining itself up to land on the other side of the road.

  “Only forty minutes?” He could see Stormy tensing up again as she watched the helicopter approach with trepidation.

  “Only forty,” Marcus assured her in the most comforting tone he could muster.

  “Okay. Fine,” she said confidently, even though he could see the hair twirled around her finger getting tighter and tighter.

  Marcus pulled the bags out of the car and put the car keys in the glove compartment. He watched as Stormy walked over and rubbed the bonnet fondly. She leaned in and said a few whispered words. By now, he knew her well enough to know what she was saying – no doubt wishing Sammy would feel better, or have a safe journey home, and thanking her.He smiled to himself.

  Marcus led the way as they crossed the road to the helicopter. The blades were slowing down now, but it was still windy, and the dust was being whipped up into a frenzy.

  “Damn!” He turned to see that Stormy had now frozen in sheer terror. She pointed a finger at the helicopter as if it were a demon.

  “It’s so… it’s like a beetle!” she screeched.

  Marcus wished he could have blindfolded her so she hadn’t seen how small the helicopter really was. It was very small. And he had to admit, looking at the thing, that it didn’t inspire that much confidence in him, either. He had been hoping for Airwolf; this was more like Air-Mouse. But he knew he couldn’t let Stormy see his creeping nerves.

  “I promise, it’s going to be fine.” This time it was slightly harder to keep up the authenticity of that reassuring tone.

  Stormy shut her eyes tightly and stuck out her hand trustingly. “I can’t look. I just can’t look.”

  Marcus pushed the bags into the back; they took up more than half of the seat, leaving only a tiny place for both of them to sit. He quickly glanced at the seat next to the pilot and noted that it, too, was full.This meant that Stormy would need to sit on his lap.

  Yip, she was going to have to sit on his lap. He took her by the hand and pulled her towards the chopper. He then climbed in first and hoisted her up, slipping her onto his lap. Stormy’s eyes suddenly opened in shock when she realized where she was sitting.

  “Sorry, only one seat. I’m afraid my lap will have to do.” He hoped he hadn’t said that with a smile. Or in a way that betrayed his innermost thoughts at that moment.

  Naughty thoughts of Stormy on his lap for a whole forty minutes.

  23

  Maybe, just kinda maybe

  She would deny it if ever asked, especially by Marcus.

  Totally, absolutely, utterly, positively, definitely, categorically and any other words in the English dictionary that ended in an ‘ly’ deny it! She would deny it loudly and proudly and repeatedly – and again using any other words that ended in an ‘ly’. She would shout it from the rooftops and the balconies and any other high things that people stand on that allowed them to see other people below, or whatever! Deny, deny, and deny some more, because for the last forty minutes, it had felt like she had been having sex in the back of a helicopter with Marcus.

  But, like she said – D E N Y.

  Because it hadn’t really happened.

  Because everything that had happened had been perfectly normal.

  Because it was all necessary and perfectly, innocently explainable.

  Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been entirely necessary for her to press her back into him like that. But it could have been necessary, because that’s what people do when they sit on other people’s laps to stabilize themselves, don’t they? Maybe, just kinda maybe, it hadn’t been entirely necessary to grip his thighs with her hands, but she had needed to anchor herself when the helicopter had gotten a bit wobbly. His thighs were the closest things to grab onto, and they had seemed like a sensible choice at the time – so firm and muscular. You have to hold onto something, right?

  Possibly, she hadn’t needed to tilt her neck back just enough that her face was only centimeters from his and she could feel his hot breathe on the side of her cheek… possibly. Okay, okay, and perhaps, just a tiny bit, maybe it wasn’t soooo necessary to slide backwards and forwards on his lap those few times while adjusting her position. But the bags had tilted and pushed her a little and she had needed to readjust her position – that was totally, legitimately necessary. But maybe it had not been entirely necessary to have the readjusting take the form of a kind of bump-and-grind lap dance. Perhaps she had taken that one a bit far, because she had felt something down there stir a little…

  And some might say it was also unnecessary to accidentally move her hands just that tiny bit higher when the luggage had slipped again and bumped her, giving her yet another reason to readjust. But it could have all been necessary. None of it was blatantly inappropriate. None of it was totally unnecessary in a way that would indicate she was one of those perverts who got off on dry humping unsuspecting victims.

  But whatever the necessity factor of the whole thing had been, she had just experienced the most erotic, sexually-charged, mind-blowingly, amazingly sexy moment of her entire life in the back of the helicopter. Let’s not forget the pilot, because they hadn’t been alone in there. If they had been…

  Marcus would vehemently deny it to anyone who asked. He had not just taken full advantage of an otherwise innocent situation to the point that it’d felt like he had been having sex with Stormy for the past forty minutes. Having the most exciting, naughty kind of sex that any two people could possibly have. Like in the back of a car at a drive-in, knowing full well they could get caught at any moment. That’s how it had felt. But no – let’s be clear about this – noadvantage had been taken. None. He had done nothing inappropriate.

  Maybe it hadn’t been totally appropriate to wrap his arms so tightly around her, but she needed to be held in place, otherwise she might have wobbled around during the flight. He was only doing that for her own protection, really. Any gentleman would have done the same thing in his position. But maybe it wasn’t entirely appropriate that his hands had sort of slipped a little so that they were more on her upper thighs, very upper thighs, than around her waist in the acceptable manner of platonically and protectively holding someone in place.

  And perhaps when they’d slipped, it shouldn’t have happened so slowly that his hands had taken their time tracing their way down her body, over her dress and across her small, petite curves. Okay, and maybe it was just a little inappropriate that he had moved her hair out the way and let his fingers trace the back of her neck ever so slowly as he did so. But her hair had been in his face. It was basically blowing in his eye; any man would have needed to move it. But maybe someone might have perceived it as inappropriate when he leaned so close to her exposed neck that his face came into contact with it
. That he had inhaled her scent and his lips had touched her neck and when he had moved, they had kind of grazed the entire length of her sweet-smelling, slender neck.

  And someone out there might also say that it had been unnecessary to sort of… well, okay, he had kind of pressed himself into her a bit – but only because she had started wiggling on his lap. He couldn’t help it. He was a man, after all. It was a perfectly natural response to a woman – a very, very, very attractive woman – sliding up and down on his lap. Nothing to be ashamed of, a natural response.

  So why did he feel like a lascivious old man, copping a secret feel? A pervert taking advantage of an innocent situation? Because – if he had to be truly honest, if he was in the dock being sworn in before a judge – that’s exactly what he had been doing. He had totally taken advantage of the moment of closeness between them, a moment that should have been totally innocent. Especially when Stormy had leaned forward just enough for him to sort of see down the top of her dress just a tiny bit – no bra, no bra! Marcus hoped that Stormy hadn’t noticed any of it, especially because there are certain things a man can hide, and certain things a man cannot hide physically, if you get the drift…

  The helicopter landed safely – no plummeting soup cans and all that – and they both disembarked. Marcus couldn’t bear to look her in the eye, though. He felt as guilty as he had the time he’d stolen a chocolate from the shop when he was eight. He’d felt so guilt-ridden that when he got home and climbed under his bed to hide, he wasn’t even able to eat and enjoy it.

  And he knew his face was betraying him, because it was bright red – stained with embarrassment and guilt. He could feel the heat radiating off it, like his body was at least five degrees hotter than what was natural and normal. He glanced quickly at Stormy and noticed that she too was avoiding eye contact; her eyes were flicking around wildly, looking everywhere but in his direction. It made her look a little mad, actually. Her cheeks too were no longer that pretty pale pink, but rather a crimson color.

  Shit. She knew.

  He was officially that guy. The guy that accidentally bumps into women on the street, who pushes up against them in the lift or on the subway, the guy at work who all the women complained about because he was always finding “legitimate” reasons to hug and touch them.

  He was totally mortified. And really disappointed in himself, to be honest. Why was it that when it came to Stormy, he wasn’t able to control himself and keep his primal urges at bay? And to make matters worse, he’d been the one that had made a big deal about “not being the guy who fucks her on the side of the road”. Only, if he had his way right now, he could quite happily be the guy who fucked her against the side of the helicopter. But he knew it wouldn’t be like that for him – and that’s why a full-blown war was being waged inside him,between what his heart and his hormones wanted, and what he knew was the right thing to do.

  But with all wars, there had to be a winner and a loser. And right now, he was losing. That part of him that was fighting so, so, so hard to hold onto control was failing. And fast.

  Soon, his heart and hormones were going to flatten logic and reason in one almighty last stand,and then he was going to have to give in.

  24

  Out with un-sex, in with innocent thoughts

  Stormy avoided looking at Marcus after they disembarked. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. The weird thing that had just happened between them had left her feeling a little awkward. Well, a lot awkward. What the hell was that, anyway? Some strange no-sex sex? Had they just invented some new kind of thing? Un-sex?

  She needed someone to throw a bucket of ice water over her head. She needed to snap out of it. Her hormones were zinging and her body was physically aching for him.

  She walked away from him and took a few deep breaths while repeating a new mental mantra: out with un-sex, in with innocent thoughts. It seemed to work after about the tenth time, when her heart rate and raging hormones dipped down to something more acceptable. She looked around for the first time. They had landed near the beach. The most beautiful beach in the entire world.

  The place was magical, unlike anything she’d ever seen or experienced before. When she was growing up, family holidays away weren’t exactly her dad’s (and whichever wife he was currently on) thing. Her foster families had never really taken her anywhere, either. And then of course there was her very limited, stretched-like-old-stale-chewing-gum financial situation, which put a huge damper on things like eating food and travel. Her current financial situation was pretty dire. She hadn’t told anyone about it, and wasn’t planning to, either.

  But if truth be told, she had nowhere to live when she got back to South Africa. Her landlord, the kindest, most patient man the world had ever created, had finally asked her to leave, after months and months of being unable to pay the rent. She couldn’t even afford a roof over her head, let alone holidays away. Although this didn’t panic her as much as it might have panicked someone else; she always made a plan. It was how she’d grown up – how she’d been forced to grow up. She’d had to fend for herself from a very early age. But somehow, everything always seemed to work out. The universe provides what you need, when you need it. That’s what she believed, anyway, and if it meant spending a few nights at the women’s shelter at the nearby church, so be it. If it meant busking with her guitar for a little while to make extra money, that was also okay. She always landed on her feet again; it was just who she was.

  Of course, Lilly and Damien always offered her accommodation when she needed it. Damien even said he would build a little studio apartment on top of their garage for her. But she couldn’t accept charity, and she didn’t have anything to barter with them. Lilly had said that the pleasure of her company was more than enough, but Stormy didn’t want to be in the way. Relationships are hard enough without your step-sister living on your roof.

  She quickly pushed all those thoughts out of her mind; no use in dwelling on the what if, when, what and how. She was right here, right now, and she was going to enjoy it. Although they were only going to be in Mombasa for a little while, she was determined to do absolutely everything she could to take in the experience. Starting with that sea.

  It was perfectly crystal clear at its most shallow. From the clearness, it radiated out and turned into a pale, powdery blue, which almost looked like it would be soft to the touch. The color reminded her of the beautiful Blue Calcite crystal – that swirly, pale, almost cotton-candy blue. She smiled to herself and turned around to see where Marcus had got to, but when she did and saw the look on his face, her stomach seemed to involuntarily jump up and down a few times. He had a smile plastered across his face, maybe the biggest smile she’d seen so far, and he was just looking at her. Staring, almost. His pupils looked big, black and dilated, even in the bright light. He was also more casual than she’d seen him before: relaxed with his hands in pockets, his hair all messy and tussled from the wind, and leaning against a palm tree. He looked great. Amazing. Perfect.

  The look on his face, though! That look in his eye – the glint, the shine and the depth. She smiled back at him, and they held each other’s gazes for the longest time.

  She was the one who eventually broke eye contact and turned her attention back to the sea in front of her.She walked down onto the beach and took off her sandals. The warm white sand squished between her toes and she wiggled them, savoring the sensation. She loved the feel of sand beneath her feet, just like she loved the feel of mud between her toes, or rain on her bare skin. The sand was fine, soft and snowy in color. The contrast between the white of the beach and blue of the sea was breathtaking. Huge palm trees dotted the beach, casting long shadows over the sand, giving it a beautiful, mottled appearance. The scene in front of her was like an exquisite patchwork quilt, bits and pieces of different colors, shapes and textures all blended together to form something wondrous and unique.

  “Beautiful,” Marcus said,
suddenly standing right behind her.

  “It is,” Stormy replied, turning to face him. He was so close… And then he did something truly unexpected.

  He reached out and touched her cheek, letting his fingers linger. His eyes seemed to trace the surfaces and features of her face; he ran his gaze from her eyes to her lips and then to her nose. His look was so intense that it actually made her nose tickle; she rubbed it self-consciously, and he smiled at her. A sweet, sexy smile that was doing more to her than she would care to admit. He held her gaze as the wind picked up and stands of her hair blew across her face. He took a stand between his fingers and looked at it.

  “Pink,” he said, twirling it around his finger. “I like it.” He let go of that strand and took up another – a blue one this time – between his fingers. He took a step closer and tucked it behind her ear with such gentle care that it made her feel melt-ish inside. The feel of his fingertips on her ear made her shiver. Stormy was still wearing the colorful scarf that Marcus had bought her at the market, and the wind suddenly picked it up and took it away. It flew for a few meters before landing on the sand.

  Marcus immediately moved to get it. He picked it up and dusted it off before walking back up to her and gently putting it around the back of her neck, using it to pull her even closer. Their faces were almost touching.

  “It matches your hair,” he said, gently knotting it around her neck.

  There was something so undeniably powerful between them, it was impossible, impossible to deny. And it was becoming harder and harder to fight against it – no matter how many promises they swore to each other, how many attempts at hand shakes they made or lines they drew in the sand. She wondered just how much of Marcus she would need to be satisfied. The answer was a little disturbing, because she just couldn’t see herself ever getting enough of him. With each encounter, the need to be with him grew ten-fold. He was like an addictive drug: the more she had, the more she wanted. More, more, more.