by Jo Watson
“What would you do to him?” I turned and looked at Damien with an excited smile.
“It depends. Do you want him permanently or temporarily maimed?”
I burst out laughing. Damien had a way of making me feel better about everything. “You know what…right now, I actually don’t care about him. I don’t care where he is or what he’s doing…I just don’t give a flying fuck!”
I threw my head back and looked up at the sky. I took a long, deep breath. Warm, salty sea air rushed into my lungs, and a feeling of absolute freedom washed over me. It was almost euphoric.
“Do you still want to get married, though?” Damien asked.
This was a good question. Did I still want to marry Michael? These last few days had made me realize that I hadn’t been as in love with him as I’d thought. I’d been in love with the idea of love. I’d been in love with the big, romantic white wedding. I’d been in love with some strange notion of a perfect husband and family.
Did I still want it all, a family life with all the trimmings? Yes, and hopefully I would find it one day.
“I do. Just not with Michael,” I said faintly. “And you?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it before,” he said after a long pause. “Maybe. I guess. One day.” He didn’t sound that convinced, though.
Suddenly, the desire to ask him about those girls overwhelmed me.
“And do you…I mean, have you…with relationships…woman, and—?” I mentally slapped myself on the side of the head after I’d vomited out that hot mess of a sentence.
Damien turned and smiled at me. “You’re asking me about my relationships?”
“Only if you want to tell me. No pressure!” I defended quickly.
“I’ve had a few relationships over the years, but they never really get serious.”
I had sudden visions of Damien being a man-whore, chewing up and spitting out women like gum that had lost its flavor. I think this subject was better left dropped.
“What I mean is,” he continued, “I don’t think I’ve ever really let anyone get close, or let myself get close.”
“Why?”
“I guess I have this fear. The people I love tend to…go away.” His voice was steeped in sadness and I knew he was referring to his sister.
“I get that. How your past affects your relationships. I think mine has, too, just in opposite ways. I think my life was so messed up as a kid that all I wanted was this perfect life and a family of my own…but there’s no such thing as perfect, is there?”
“Like I said, Lilly, we’re both damaged little souls.” His voice sounded sympathetic and affectionate and sexy all at once and it made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Bloody hell.
With each passing moment I seemed to be feeling closer and more attracted to this guy.
Despite all outward appearances, and the different ways in which we both lived our lives, I’d never felt that I’d had more in common with anyone. And I’d never felt so understood before.
The sun completely disappeared and darkness settled in. It was time to start thinking about our sleeping arrangements. We decided not to attempt building anything from palms and stalks (we both agreed we would fail dismally). The night was warm and the breeze was even warmer. The sky was so magnificent that it made the Sistine Chapel look like a spray-painted mural on a wall. And when you combined those things, lying on your back on the beach was perfect. My unnecessary clothes purchases finally came in handy, and we made a makeshift bed on the sand with sarongs. We both lay down—not too far, not too close.
“This is pretty cool, though,” I said.
“Pretty cool?” Damien raised himself up on an elbow and shot me a sarcastic look. “Pretty? Lilly, this is something that you and I are going to remember for the rest of our lives. How many people get to say they slept under the stars on an uninhabited island?”
Damien lifted himself even farther off the sand and inched a little closer to me. “I’ll certainly remember this forever.” He flashed me the kind of smile that could stop traffic, and possibly even stop the world from spinning on its axis. “I’ve never had so much fun with anyone before.”
“Me either,” I said breathlessly.
“I’m really glad fate threw us together, Lilly.”
“You believe in that stuff?”
“Not until now.” Damien collapsed back down in the sand, but this time he was definitely closer to me. I could feel the heat coming off his body, and when I adjusted slightly, my hand grazed his. Instead of pulling away, though, I kept it there. Gently touching his.
“This has got to be the best bed in the world,” Damien whispered.
“Best bed in the world.” I seconded that.
He pointed up at the night sky. “See that. That’s one of the arms of our Milky Way galaxy. I’ve never seen it this clearly before.”
“It’s incredible.”
“Do you know what’s even more incredible? In the center of every galaxy is a supermassive black hole. They’re the most destructive things in the universe, but they’re also what holds it all together and makes it so perfect.”
“I like that,” I said. It was a beautiful sentiment, and I stared up at the sky thinking about it as my eyes started getting heavier and heavier. “Damien, I still wouldn’t mind getting rescued tomorrow, even though it’s so pretty here.”
“We’ll be rescued. I promise. Night, Lilly.”
“Night, Damien.”
* * *
I woke up the next morning to the roar of an engine and the sounds of voices. I jumped up immediately, and to my absolute joy Damien had delivered on his promise. He was standing waist-deep in the sea and had successfully waved down a fishing boat. After some more explications and more waving the map around, the fisherman looked at us curiously before pointing.
We both followed the direction of his finger. There, within an easy swimming distance, lay an island.
“That’s where it is?” I couldn’t quite believe it.
The fisherman nodded profusely and seemed absolutely convinced. I turned to Damien and burst out laughing. “We could have swum there!”
It had been staring us in the face the entire time and we hadn’t even realized it. Damien joined in until our laughing escalated to mad hysteria. I clutched my sides, I was laughing so hard. The fisherman recoiled, as if we might be dangerous crazy people.
Even though we could have probably swum to the island, we decided against it and jumped into the boat, and after a literal minute, we were there.
Two enormous pillar-like rocks came into view; they rose straight up into the air and were only a few feet apart, creating a thin passage between them. We entered the passageway, and it was so narrow that if I stuck my hand outside the boat, I could touch the cliff face.
We finally popped out the other end and entered a huge crystal lake enclosed by a large island that wrapped around it completely. Long white beaches ran the entire length of the shoreline and, from them, imposing rocky faces rose vertically. The boat stopped at one of the beaches and Damien and I climbed out. I indicated to the driver that he should wait while Damien took in the lay of the land and found the elusive sign. But within seconds, we both saw it; a bright-pink arrow painted onto one of the rocks. The fisherman turned and left us.
“Beautiful,” Damien said, looking around.
“Where’s the party?”
“Ahhh, patience, we’re in no rush to get there. Besides, I am sure it’s going to be quite an adventure getting there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, that’s part of the fun. They always choose a really remote location that’s hard to access—keeps the rabble away.”
I looked around nervously; the only way from here was up. And that didn’t thrill me at all.
“Do you think we’ll be going up…there?” I looked up and pointed nervously.
“Well, there’s nowhere else to go, is there?” He was nonchalant again
, despite the fact that climbing one of those things would be madness and potentially detrimental to your health—i.e., you might fall and die.
“Don’t worry.” He draped his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll be there. It’ll be fine. But”—Damien put his backpack down on the warm sand—“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had a swim.” And with that, he started peeling off his clothes. First the shirt and then the pants. Although this was the third time I’d seen him half-naked, it still had the power to elicit the same silly, dizzy schoolgirl response from me. I tried not to stare, but there was no way I could ever become immune to the effects of a shirtless Damien, no way I could ever grow used to or blasé about seeing Damien like this. Immediate blush.
He was wearing only his boxer shorts now and confidently strode into the water. I involuntarily bit my lip and was glad he hadn’t seen it. As soon as the water reached Damien’s thighs, he dove in. I watched him disappear and found myself waiting breathlessly for him to pop back out of the water. He finally emerged, his back was to me, and for the first time I noticed, well it was impossible not to notice, a huge tattoo on his back. It completely covered the top half of his back and both shoulder blades. It was so complex and intricate, containing lines that curved, intersected, and wove their way around and through one another, coming together to form an abstract pattern. It’s hard to describe, but let’s put it this way, his naked back was now officially my favorite part of his body. He turned to me and I quickly wiped the stupid look off my face.
“Well…aren’t you coming in?”
“I’m not wearing a bathing suit.”
“So put it on. I know you have one, I rescued it from the water, remember?”
I looked around; there were no obvious trees or rocks to change behind, only wide-open beach.
“There’s nowhere to change,” I shouted back at him.
“Change there. I won’t look.”
“No! Are you crazy? I’m not just going to change on the beach! What if someone sees me? What if another boat comes?”
“I’ll keep an eye out. Besides, we’ll hear the boat long before we see it.”
“I don’t know…”
“Lilly, you’re missing out big-time, trust me. And we’ve probably got a long hot walk ahead of us, so…come on.” He paused for a moment and looked at me very seriously. “I’m not going to look…you have my word.”
I looked around once more, I couldn’t see anyone, and Damien had his back to me. I slipped my recently purchased bikini on and it immediately became apparent that it was at least one size too small for me. There was no way I was going to let Damien see me in this, so I put a T-shirt over it. But he was right, the water was amazing. Once it had reached waist height, I told him to turn around.
“Interesting choice of swimwear. Why are you wearing a shirt?”
“Just…you know…”
We smiled at each other for a moment. “You have to see the reef down here, the fish are amazing. Come.” Damien disappeared and I followed him. The water below was crystal clear. The sand was snow white and powdery. One big rock poked out of the sand and was covered in multicolored coral and hundreds of beautifully patterned fish fed on it. I wanted to have a closer look and then…
I was blinded.
T-shirts should come with warnings that say, If you swim underwater with this, it will billow and puff and cover your face. I resurfaced to peel the wet, sticking fabric off my face with Damien close behind me. The T-shirt was clinging uncomfortably, and I was forced to tug and pull it back into position.
Damien looked at me curiously. “You know, you really can take it off. I’m not one of these guys who gawks and whistles—no matter how good the view is.”
My stomach moved up into my chest and my heart fell into my stomach. Damien disappeared under the water again, and I continued to fiddle with the wet, uncomfortable shirt, which was really starting to piss me off.
Why the hell not, right? And so I whipped the thing off and followed him under.
We swam and laughed and splashed each other like little kids, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. It also dawned on me that I hadn’t thought about Michael the whole day. Not once, well, until right now.
And then Damien abruptly ended our fun. “Come, time to go.”
I’d completely lost track of time, so I quickly stood up out of the water and headed back toward the beach, and then I realized…
I was walking in front of Damien in my bikini, and stuff was probably (no, definitely) wobbling.
Crap. I suddenly became very self-conscious and took a deep breath, hoping it would suck it all in somehow. I started to walk in a rather robotic way in an attempt to minimize any unwanted movement of my subcutaneous fat cells. I put my feet down gently in case the impact would jiggle something loose, and I tensed my muscles in the hopes it would give me the appearance of sleeker legs and a perkier bum (wishful thinking). At this stage, I was concentrating so hard on defying nature, gravity, and all known laws of physics that it was already too late by the time I saw the rock. And so I walked straight into it, stubbed my toe, and stumbled backward.
And then—you couldn’t have orchestrated a more clichéd-yet-perfect moment if this had been a Hollywood rom-com—I felt two strong hands catch me. I found myself pressed, hard, against Damien’s naked chest, and I’d never felt more turned on in my entire life. Which was a very odd sensation for me.
Right now, squished against his naked chest, the feel of his arms wrapped around me, the intense sensation of his hot hands resting on the small of my cold, wet back, and our wet bodies pushed together tightly, every inch touching, made me feel like all the blood rushing through my body had changed direction and was suddenly swirling around my nether regions. I wanted him so badly it literally hurt. I wasn’t looking at him yet, but I willed my face to tilt upward and my eyes met his. The air between us was electric. His eyes moved down to my mouth and although he wasn’t touching my lips, they were stinging…
We’d both been fighting this feeling for days now, and it was officially no longer possible to fight it. It was too big. Too overwhelming and I was certainly giving up. And judging by the look in Damien’s eye right now, it was clear that he had given up the good fight, too, and was ready to surrender. Kissing Damien was all I wanted. And I’d never wanted anything more in my life…
“Lilly.” His voice was a whisper.
“Yes, Damien…”
He was still staring at my lips, and moved his hand up to touch my face. His finger traced its way down my cheek, and I shivered in response; my skin rose up in goose bumps that covered my entire body. He moved his fingers down to my mouth and I felt his thumb trace my bottom lip.
Then he moved his mouth closer to mine. Our lips were now only inches apart. I could feel and smell his breath. And it was sweet and hot and I wanted to drink it in.
“Do you mind if I kiss you, Lilly?”
“Yes…” I whispered back to him. “Kiss me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Woooooooo-hooooooo!
Yeah!
Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!
Woooooooooo!
Screams reverberated around us. The sounds bounced from one cliff to the next like a psychotic Ping-Pong ball until it felt like the screams were coming from above, behind, between, and in front of us.
What the hell?
Damien stared toward the tunnel; the screams grew louder and the roaring engines were coming closer. The boat finally burst into sight, sending white rippling waves out in every direction as it sped toward us. I could see four people on board, and judging by all the whooping and woo-hooing, they were all in party spirits. And then…hang on…suddenly Damien sprinted across the beach.
Why? Why was he waving and shouting? And then I looked closer and my heart not only dropped, but it climbed out of my body, jumped into the lake, and sank to the bottom to sleep with the fish. Leaping—no, springing gracefully like a baby gazelle in a tiny bikini—was
the brown-haired hipster chick. I pressed pause in my head and she stayed suspended in midair. I looked closely at her. She was smiling. She was springing with open arms. She was excited and she was about three sizes smaller than me. I mentally pressed play again and she went pirouetting onto the beach and into Damien’s arms, the arms that I’d just been in! My arms! Not hers.
They hugged. It was gut-wrenching.
He spun her around in the air. It was heartbreaking.
They tripped and collapsed onto the sand. It was nauseating.
Suddenly I really hoped there would be a human sacrifice tonight.
I was glaring at them so intently that I hadn’t even noticed that Blondie-Blue-Tip was also there. She also went leaping and flying and diving onto the sand with them. I cringed.
I looked back at the boat and a guy stepped off it and started walking toward me.
When my mother gets sent a play, before even reading it, she goes through the character descriptions. These are short, concise tidbits that give you an exact image and understanding of the character. And if the guy walking toward me was a character in one of my mother’s plays, this is what it would say…
Name: Chad “The Man” Matthews
Age: 29
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 200 lbs. of pure hard rippling muscle
Hair: Blond and shiny
Eyes: Crystal blue and dreamy
Characteristics: Chad is a jock. He is wealthy, healthy, and enjoys working out. In his spare time he loves cooking, spending time with orphans, rescuing stray kittens, and feeding the homeless. He’s also incredibly well endowed and is a very giving lover.
Flash back three days ago: If I’d seen this guy walk through the door, I would have melted. Dissolved into a puddle and looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, but now, I couldn’t care less about him even if he took all his clothes off and did jumping jacks in front of me so that his willy flapped in my face—no matter how big it was.
There was only one person in the world I wanted, and he was frolicking on the beach with Hipster Barbie.
“Hey, I’m Jerry.” Suddenly he was in front of me.
