by Brisa Starr
Not wanting to waste another second, I take her face between my hands and I pull her to me, and my lips crash down on hers ravenously, hungry to finally taste her sensuous, glistening lips. I’m dying to see if she’s spicy or sweet… up top, my darker side adds, implicitly wondering if it’s different down below.
My mind is blown at the kiss as my tongue gently slips between her lips and she opens her mouth, inviting me in. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her fingers comb through my hair. She’s driving me crazy. I grab her tighter and slam her against the door, holding her closer.
My tongue probes deeper into her mouth. I’m desperate for her taste, her breath, her energy. I kiss her harder, before finally pulling back, and her face, flushed and radiating pure beauty, takes my breath away.
She looks up at me. Her eyes are filled with questions and desire, and she says between heavy breaths, “I get the impression that you don’t do love. Well, just so you know, I don’t either.”
This stops me in my tracks. I didn’t expect that. And what would make her think that? As badly as I want her right now, I withdraw. The darkness slinking back into me.
“What makes you say that about me?” I say, narrowing my eyes slightly.
“You know, your whole brooding, lone wolf thing. I get it. I’m one, too, sort of, so we have that in common. I’m OK with a no-strings-attached fling. Figured you would be, too.”
Fuck.
Did she just give me permission to fuck her? I’m pretty sure she did. If only that was all I had in mind. My cock is probably game, but my soul isn’t.
The stormy sky is turning black and my mood darkens along with it. “I’ll see ya later.” Her jaw drops, and I turn to walk to the casita.
“What? Are you serious??”
“Yeah, I’ve got stuff to do.”
I walk away.
The lightning crackles, lighting up the area, and the electricity that was sizzling between us gets sucked up into the atmosphere, leaving nothing between us.
She walks into the house, stunned and hurt. Thunder booms as she closes the door behind her.
One kiss and I know... she’s the one. Shit.
7
Adron
Once inside the casita, I head straight to the bottle of tequila and pour myself a glass, neat. Loving the smell of the desert in monsoon season, I open my windows and let the breeze cool down both the casita and myself. I sit down at my Yamaha CP88 electronic piano and turn on Snow Patrol’s song, The Lightning Strike. Fitting.
I play along, singing… inspired. The words tear through my soul.
She’s right in her assessment of me. A year ago, hell, even six months ago, I’d have agreed. I would’ve loved a no-strings fuck with a spicy vixen like her. Now, though, I want more. I need more. Both for my situation, and for me. I want someone who understands me, and I think she might. Well, at least partly.
That kiss. Whoa. I’ve never felt anything like that. The desire went beyond my cock and balls. My heart strained, longing to reach out and fuse with hers. I wanted to breathe her breath, feeling life and light in my darkness for once. I want to have that again. She’s like a fucking drug, and I’m already feeling the withdrawal.
I finish my tequila and get up to pour another, letting the darkness settle around my heart, feeling the comfort of familiarity it brings. I sit back down and spin my chair around to face the bed, putting my feet up on it. Staring at nothing. Then, I see the black tourmaline on my nightstand. It’s supposed to block negative energy. Bullshit. I’m suffocating in it.
The reality of my situation. Living the rest of my life with the guilt of my parents’ ruined life weighing on my heart if I can’t deliver their inheritance. Feeling I let them down, let myself down, let my grandfather down. Even my Auntie.
I stand up and pace the space of the small casita. I rake my hands through my hair, and frustration consumes me.
I don’t have any close friends, no one I can trust or talk to. Just Auntie, and even though she knows the situation, I’m not getting any answers. My music is the only thing that brings me solace, but even now, that’s not settling my nerves. I pour myself another tequila. This time, I throw my head back and slam it. Laughing, as I feel my grandfather laughing from his grave.
But then I stop.
No, he’s not laughing.
He wanted nothing more than for me to find true love and happiness. That’s why the bastard put those restrictions on the inheritance. But why tie it to my parents?
Deep down, I know why. He knew I didn’t care about the money, at least not like they did. He knew it’d guilt me into taking him seriously. He wanted me to have love. Brilliant crazy fucker.
For one fleeting, bizarre second, when I saw Alyson that first day in the kitchen, I thought she was the one. I figured, leave it to Auntie to make this happen, playing psychic matchmaker… if there’s anyone who knows me well enough to make it work, it’s her. There’s no denying the buzz that spun around Alyson and me. But how can she be the one when she’s a loner, like me? She doesn’t want to be tied down. That’s not the woman you make your partner in life, by definition.
Storm winds howl outside, and I can hear branches from a bush scraping against a window, buffeted by the wind. I’m starting to feel very relaxed from all the tequila, when suddenly, I hear Alyson calling my name from outside, over the wind and loud music playing in my casita. She sounds scared. Fuck. I leap up, run to the door, and yank it open.
“Alyson?” I yell, running for the main house.
She meets me at the door. “I can’t find Yvon!”
Uh-oh… shit. I’m gripped with terror at the idea of the poor, helpless Yorkie lost in the desert… he wouldn’t last a night.
“What do you mean you can’t find him?”
“Exactly what I just said, I can’t find Yvon!” She’s trembling, and there’s panic in her eyes. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find him! He must’ve slipped out when I was coming or going. Oh god! He’s just a little guy!”
Tears fill her eyes, and I pull her to me in a hug. “Shhhh, don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
Lightning flashes nearby, and two seconds later, a deafening clap of thunder sounds like a building being demolished with a wrecking ball, and it makes her jump out of my hold. The clouds above us are black, making the mood ominous, and the bold and gutsy gal in front of me is terrified.
“I’ll help you find him – he can’t have gotten far. You go out back, and take a flashlight from the kitchen drawer. I’ll look around front.”
We split up and I run back to the casita, feeling rain drops hit my face. “Shit.” I grab a flashlight and run back outside, “Yvon! Yvon!!!” I call out into the dark tempest.
I search the bushes and everywhere in the front of the house. I look under our cars. He’s nowhere to be seen. After ten minutes of searching, I run to the back to see how Alyson’s doing.
I see her, hair and clothes drenched from the rain, her face tormented from crying. “I don’t see him! I can’t find him! Oh my god! What are we going to do?” She turns away from me and screams, “Yvon!” The anguish in her voice shakes my core. Her pain becomes my pain, and I’ll do anything to soothe her.
It’s getting even darker now, and the wind is gusting violently. The lightning is getting closer… too dangerous to be out here. “Alyson, we have to go inside.”
“No!” she shouts, over the wind. “We have to find Yvon!”
The lightning lights up the desert with a sizzling crackle, followed by a head-pounding BOOM that rumbles the earth. I grab her hand and drag her, resisting, into the house. “Alyson, we can’t stay out here, it’s too dangerous, and we can’t even see anything.”
Once inside, she collapses, without a word, onto a bar stool and lays her head on her arms on the counter, sobbing.
“How could he have gotten out?” I ask, trying to piece this together and see if there is another angle to help us figure it out. “Is Elliott here?”
&n
bsp; She looks up, her face riven with despair and defeat. “I have no idea. After I brought the dogs in from their walk earlier, I closed the door – or so I thought – but he must have gotten out at some point.” She sniffles and rubs her nose on her arm. Her skin prickles with goosebumps from the chill in her rain-soaked clothes. I see her breasts clinging to the fabric and distract myself by looking away. Not now, Adron.
I repeat my question about the big, white Labrador. “And Elliott?”
“He’s in the living room,” she says, glancing toward it.
“Yvon rarely wanders far from Elliott; I’m surprised they’re apart.”
“I’m so scared for him, Adron. I know what’s out in the desert — mountain lions, coyotes… Your Auntie warned me! And in this weather!” She cries again, “I promised her I’d take care of her babies.”
“Don’t worry. Maybe he’ll find his way back home after the storm. He’s probably not far from here, but it’s too hard for us to find him out there right now.”
“Don’t worry?” She cries. “How can you say that? It’s my job to take care of the animals, and he’s gone!” She throws her hands up in the air, frustrated at the situation, and herself, before resting her head back down on her arms. She takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumped in defeat
“Look,” I say and move closer to her. “Maybe it was my fault. I came in the house earlier to get some food. Maybe I let him out without knowing it. I’ll tell my Auntie I left the door open and Yvon must have gotten out. Please don’t worry, Alyson.”
She snaps her head up, shock and disgust on her face. Her previously sad eyes suddenly fill with fury. “How could you?!” she yells and continues, “How could you lie? I would never lie. Never ever, ever. To anyone!” She’s so mad, I’m afraid she’s about to throw the crystal geode on the counter at my head.
Holy shit, she’s pissed!
I gently raise a hand to calm her. “I was just trying to help. I’m sorry. But maybe it is my fault.”
“Bullshit! You know you didn’t do it. I can’t believe you’d suggest lying to cover up my mistake. I thought you were better than that. Just leave! You’re not helping.”
“You might be mad at me right now, for trying to help, but I’m not leaving you.” She doesn’t respond. I take this pause as an opportunity to look around to see if Yvon is sleeping somewhere.
The storm rages on outside, and with Alyson’s attitude toward me, it feels like it’s raging inside the house, too.
I think back to our conversation on the boat with Sammy, and how Alyson said she’d never forgive someone for lying, and I slap my palm to my forehead.
Dammit. Why did I offer to take the blame for her? I should’ve known she wouldn’t go for it, but I was desperate to help her. I didn’t want her to be so upset.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I have to make this right. I go back into the kitchen, and she’s still sitting there with her head on her arms. I walk up to her and touch her back. She stiffens, and I immediately pull my hand off her.
“I’m sorry, Alyson.”
She looks up at me, her cheeks rosy from her day in the sun at the lake, and looking beautiful. But disappointment colors her eyes. My heart breaks. Fuck.
“I have to call your Auntie and tell her now.” She stands up and goes into the bedroom to get her phone. I follow her in there, not giving her a choice about my presence.
She rings Auntie on FaceTime, and the call connects after one ring. She must see Alyson’s distraught face, as she immediately asks, “Oh dear, Alyson, what’s wrong?”
Alyson cries again and tells her she can’t find Yvon. Just then, thunder booms, and my Auntie says, “Oh honey, take a deep breath. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Yvon never ventures far from the house, or from Elliot. Is that a storm I hear?”
“Yes,” Alyson replies and hiccups a sob.
My Auntie, calm as a kitten in a hammock, says, “Well, dear, Yvon hates storms. I’ll bet he’s hiding in his special place.”
“Shit! Of course,” I say. I grab Alyson’s hand and take her out of her room. “Hi, Auntie. Sorry, I didn’t even think to look there.”
“Hi, handsome,” she replies calmly. Knowingly.
I drag Alyson to the master bedroom and notice – yep – the door is open just wide enough for Yvon to fit through. We go into my Auntie’s giant walk-in closet and I flip on the light switch. Sure enough, right there, one shelf up from the floor, Yvon is curled up on a blanket, scared shitless.
“Oh thank fuck,” I sigh, relieved. “He’s right here.”
Alyson hands her phone to me and she runs to Yvon, kneeling on the ground. “Oh, Yvon! I’m so sorry I didn’t know you got scared. Oh, I’m so glad you’re OK. You scared the hell out of me, too,” she cries in relief and picks him up.
“Sorry, Auntie,” I say into Alyson’s phone.
“Oh, sweetie, no worries. Is Alyson there?”
“Yeah, hang on,” I say and hand the phone back to Alyson.
“Yes?” she answers, already starting to look better.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you about Yvon’s hiding place. It’s all my fault. It slipped my mind to warn you about the monsoon storms. Yvon gets scared when he hears thunder, and he runs to hide in my closet. Please don’t fret about it any longer.”
“OK, I’m sorry if we scared you.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I appreciate you calling me right away,” she says, and then adds, “How are the two of you getting along?”
I grab Alyson’s phone from her hand and reply for both of us, “We’re fine, Auntie. See you later. Bye.” And I hang up before it can get any weirder.
I knew she was up to something.
I look at Alyson, and I’m relieved things are back to normal. Or so I thought, until I look into her eyes, and I see they still show her disappointment in me.
I rub my hand down my face and look at her.
“Alyson, I’m sorry I upset you by suggesting I take the blame.” She gazes at me, almost seeing through me. Then she blinks, like she’d been somewhere else for a moment, and she’s coming back to the present.
She walks past me, leaving Auntie’s room, and says, “It was really shitty. I don’t tolerate lying. Ever.”
“I know it was a mistake. I was only trying to help.”
We walk back into the kitchen, and she sits at the table, still holding little trembling Yvon.
“But don’t you see? That doesn’t help at all!”
“I know! Believe me, honesty is one of my highest values, too, and it was totally fucked up to suggest I take the blame.”
I walk to the wine rack and get a bottle of Pinot noir. I grab two glasses and take them back to the counter. She looks flushed from her time in the sun today, and a little wiped out from all the crying. She’s beautiful, and I wonder if she’ll forgive me. Even if nothing more ever happened between us, I want whatever is left between us to be OK.
I open the bottle and offer her a glass, and she sets Yvon down and takes it. I’m relieved she hasn’t kicked me out yet, and that she’ll drink with me.
“Look, I know it might not seem like a big deal to most people, but lying is a very big deal to me. It’s everything. I don’t even like surprise birthday parties anymore. Not since…” and she stops. She takes a long sip of the wine and stares off, out the window, watching the storm light up the black desert.
I give her a moment before prompting her to continue. “Not since what?” I ask.
She looks at me, and I feel that familiar pull to her. I know she feels it, too, because the air between us thickens, heightens. She continues, “Not since my parents lied to me.”
I say nothing, waiting for her.
“I was twenty-one, and they told me they’d been cheating on each other for years. Apparently lying to each other, and obviously lying to me. It devastated me... I had thought they were madly in love. I’d always dreamed of finding my own soul mate, with a love like theirs.”
; She hangs her head back, shaking it and sighing a sharp huff of air out her nose. She lifts her head and looks back at me again. “All a lie.” She takes a big gulp of wine and shifts in her seat.
“That’s why I took off after graduation,” she continues. “I was disgusted with them. I sold almost everything I owned. I had to be free of them, of everyone, and never want to be tied down. To anyplace, or anybody.”
That explains a lot. Her fierce reaction to Sammy’s troubles with her ex, the situation tonight, her life choices. I watch her, fascinated.
“The night my parents told me, I resolved to never let that happen to me. I’d never get married, never have kids. Prior to that night, I’d always wanted both. But after their deceit, I said, ‘no fucking way.’”
She finishes her wine, but I don’t want her to go. I want to rewind the evening and take back my stupid suggestion. This whole episode – and how much she values honesty – just underscores how badly she would take it if I waited until I know her well enough to feel comfortable telling her my secret.
But I’m sure as hell not going to say anything now, either. This is definitely not the right time. But really, I don’t even know why I’m beating myself up over any of this. She’s a lost cause. She’s only interested in a fling, and that’s the last thing in the world I’m looking for.
“I’m going to bed,” she says and walks away, leaving me standing there in the kitchen, alone.
8
Alyson
I try to not think about that kiss. The glorious kiss. The kiss that illuminated the emptiness I hide from the world. I’ve spent three good years not feeling anything for a guy, other than desire between my legs. And even that is uncommon... My travel keeps me nice and safe, and my vibrator takes care of the rest.
But, that kiss, our kiss. It burns in my memory, and it was racy as hell. I tried to play it cool with him because I thought that was the safe play, didn’t want to scare him off. I totally figured he’d go for it. But then he turned me down, and it surprised the hell out of me.
