by Lena Malick
Return to Cancún
By Lena Malick
SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED BY: Lena Malick on Smashwords
Return to Cancún ©2013 by Lena Malick
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
*****
He fell on her, still clothed, wet and muddy, smelling like rain and dirt. He greedily pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around his upper back, opening herself completely to him. He was soon thrusting into her, his wet hair spraying her with water. She’d tapped that animal side of him she’d seen only a few times. It was the only time when he became completely focused on his own needs, fiercely driven to satisfy his hunger. The few times it had happened in the past, he felt compelled to apologize to her later, for being what he called a “selfish lover”, but she secretly loved it. She loved that she could drive him to it. And she loved being the recipient of it…
Return to Cancún
Lena Malick
Terra stretched, trying to look over the throng of people, wishing she was taller. Cancun airport was a swarm of humanity speaking different languages and all going in different directions.
She had hoped he would be there waiting for her when she got off the plane.
She got jostled by a boisterous group of boys wearing soccer jerseys and bouncing a ball between them as she wrestled with her shoulder bag, trying to find her phone. She wasn’t even sure which direction he would be coming from. She stood on a thermal seat and tried to look over the mass of people as they moved about like choppy water.
Where was he?
She had flown from Detroit to Los Angeles, then to Cancun. The flights had gone smoothly enough, but Terra was a wreck. Doubt had nibbled at her until it had fully taken root and spread. Was her time with Nik last summer a fluke? The whole way over she obsessed about it. They’d only spent one day together—not even twenty-four hours—and that was a whole year ago. What was she doing coming back here? Terra’s friend Vicky thought she was crazy. But there was a lot Vicky didn’t know.
Last summer, when Vicky and Terra returned from their summer vacation, Terra was feeling sick. She thought at first it was something she ate, or maybe the sudden change in climate, going from Mexico back to Michigan. A few days later, she called Vicky, telling her she couldn’t eat. Vicky listened, then was silent. Rare for her. “Well?” Terra asked. “Oh, honey,” Vicky said softly, “you’re in love.”
It seemed impossible, but Terra had nothing to compare it to. She’d never been in love, but she never imagined it like this. It was supposed to be a wonderful feeling, something blissful and romantic—not a non-stop stomachache. Not a feeling like she was constantly falling through the air.
Weeks passed. She forced herself to focus on her schoolwork. Her sophomore year of college was much harder than her freshman year, plus she had taken on an extra class load, hoping to graduate early. Her advanced biology class alone felt like a full time job. Every night, no matter how late she finished studying, she would take out the medallion Nik had given her. As she traced her fingers over the face of it, she’d allow herself to drift back to the time they spent together. She could feel his body under her fingertips and see his beautiful green eyes. His smell. The deep sound of his voice. She’d take slices of the time they spent together and relive every second of it, trying to save the best parts to last, playing it like a movie. A movie she’d lived, felt, and breathed—but for such a brief period of time. She always fell asleep before getting to the end, waking up with an imprint of the medallion on her chest from pressing it against her heart.
After a month, she realized she was getting worse, not better. If this was love, she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with it. There was a constant aching in her chest. She had to force herself to eat. She found herself crying at odd hours. The worst was at night, when her need for him was so great it would sometimes cause her to shake. She desperately wanted to feel his body, to feel the weight of him on her. To feel him penetrate her. She’d wrap herself around her pillow, imagining it was him, and sob into it. Sometimes she’d move her hand down and rub herself to a quick orgasm, crying right through it.
She couldn’t share her feeling with anyone. Vicky might have understood, but Terra was embarrassed and pretended to be fine. In a desperate attempt to find relief, she mailed the medallion back to the dive school in Cancun where she first met Nik, with his name on the envelope.
Three weeks later, it came back. With a letter.
Terra raced back to her dorm room and poured over the letter. There was no explanation for why he’d sent the medallion back to her. There was no talk of the time they spent together. It was mostly about his plans for the diving sanctuary he was building, written in his careful hand. She could hear his voice in her head, making the same grammatical errors he did in his speech. He wrote about how he’d found a partner to help him... that his sister might be visiting from Greece again... But nothing about them. Nothing about the extraordinary experience they had. Nothing about the intimacy they shared, or the incredible sex they had. Nothing about… love. Terra began to cry as she got to the end of the letter. He just signed it Nik. Not love Nik, or thinking of you, Nik. No anything. And why did he send the medallion back? The one his mother gave him, that he said was so important to him. Why?
She didn’t write back. She started to a couple times, but couldn’t express what she felt. Or didn’t want to. What was she going to write? I’m so madly in love with you that I’m walking into walls and living on saltines and soda water? At night, I yearn for your touch so much I can only fall asleep when I’ve cried myself to exhaustion? Oh, and by the way, how’s the dive thing coming?
It seemed pointless. She really felt, brief as their encounter was, that it was special. She had convinced herself that what they’d experienced together really was unique and powerful. At least it was to her. But who was she kidding? Maybe it was her age. She was only twenty. He was… what? She didn’t even know. Twenty-five? He’d likely known lots of girls, she thought sadly. With his looks, and his obvious sexual skills, he probably had been with all sorts of beautiful women. Probably is right now, she thought sadly, imagining him making love to someone else. To him, she was probably just another distraction on the way to building his dreams. Dreams that didn’t include her.
She gave up trying to write back, and gave up hope that they shared any of the same feelings, resolving to suffer her fate quietly.
Another letter arrived. Terra figured that if she wanted to get over him, the best thing to do was to throw it away. But she couldn’t. Instead, she let it sit on her dresser for a day before opening it. When she read it, she found more talk of his plans. How he misses Greece, and his fear that by opening and running the dive sanctuary, he’ll never get to go back. But that a sacrifice I make for my dreams, yes? But you would love it there. When it rain in Athens, it’s like... Wait… what? She went back and re-read that part. You’d love it there. What did that mean? With him? Together? She nearly slapped herself. Stop it, Terra. His English is bad. He could have meant anything.
She wrote back. She talked about school. About Vicky. About Michigan in the winter. About her plans for medical school. About anything except her feelings for him. It was a cheerful letter, but inside, Terra felt torn up, like her heart was being slowly pulled apart. It wasn’t at all what she wanted to tell him. She thought of including a picture. Maybe that would awaken something in him. He’d never really seen her at her best. Stop
it, there’s nothing to awaken in him. He doesn’t see you like that anymore. She signed the letter Terra. Not love, Terra. No thinking of you, Terra. No nothing.
He wrote back again. More about his plans. Others were joining him. He now had seven people committed to helping him build and run the dive sanctuary. And now it was going to be a research center as well. And he’d received a government grant to help pay for it all. He included more drawings and renderings of what they were building. He also talked about his mother in Athens, saying you’d really like her. Terra didn’t let herself dwell on that part, knowing right away it was something she could easily obsess over.
And that’s how it went. Every few weeks, another letter would arrive, and every few weeks, Terra would write back. He said it was good practice for his English, as it forced him to look up words. She noticed his writing did get better, with fewer grammatical errors. He included more drawings and sketches, often quite elaborate, like works of art. Sometimes there was sand in the creases of the paper. She imagined him writing on his deck, looking out over the ocean. But still no mention of the intimacy they shared, or the bond she felt they had established.
Terra found herself opening up more in her own letters, talking about things she couldn’t even tell Vicky. Not about her feelings for him, but about how she felt about life, and the things that were important to her. She felt free to express herself, uncensored. She wrote about her mother, and how her dying had affected her. Putting all these thoughts on paper, sealing them up and putting them in the mail, was therapeutic for her. She began eating normally. She started running again and going to yoga class with Vicky.
She still loved him. She knew she did, but she found it was getting easier not to acknowledge it to herself. She still craved him at night, sometimes pressing his letters to her face, trying to get the smell of him. But she was coping, and that was enough. Each day got a little easier. In the spring, Vicky asked where they were going for summer vacation. His next letter arrived that day. It was similar to his other ones, but there was something else included. A plane ticket, with Terra’s name on it. Terra clutched her heart. It was an open-ended ticket, good until the end of summer, from Detroit to Cancun. Stuck to the ticket was a post-it note, which simply said, come see me. Terra could swear her heart stopped beating.
~ ~ ~
Terra tried his cell phone again. Right to voice mail. Again. The airport was less crowded now. She realized the frenzy of people came and went with each flight that arrived or departed. In between it nearly cleared out. Her eyes were aching from searching faces, looking for his green eyes. It had been half an hour since her flight arrived. He said he would meet her there in the terminal. She began to think maybe she misunderstood and he was down in the baggage claim area.
Just then, she saw him.
He was running through the terminal, toward her. For a moment, time actually stood still. Like it does just a couple of times in a person’s life. In that instant, all the love she’d felt for him, all the love she’d been holding back, came flooding forward in a rush. She knew in that instant that she loved him more than anything in the world. It was beyond her. Bigger than her. More than she could contain. Trying to suppress it now was like trying to hold back the tide. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he panted, taking her hands. She had thought of his brilliant green eyes a thousand times over the last year, imagining them looking at her, but she was still astonished at how clear and vibrant they were. His hair was longer, dark, but with streaks of sun bleached blond. “The motorcycle… broke down.” He was trying to catch his breath. “I called cab, had to keep calling, and my phone died. I’m so sorry. You’ve been waiting. I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay, Nik.” She looked up at him. He seemed to hesitate a second, then lunged forward and took her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him. He held her tightly. Neither said anything as they gripped each other. A moment seemed to transpire between them, like a silent understanding. She felt his heart being against her. His body was warm and damp. He breathed into her. She gripped him tighter, not caring if she seemed needy or desperate or was not able to play it casual as she’d planned. It just felt too good to be in his strong arms to pretend.
He finally broke their embrace. With his hands on her shoulders, they looked at each other, as if for the first time. They both broke into goofy smiles. “Did you check in a bag?” he asked. “Yeah. I have my backpack, but they wouldn’t let me take it on board, so I had to check it.” They started toward the escalator that led to the baggage claim area. He naturally took her hand as they walked, like they were a couple. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
They floated down the escalator in silence, just looking at each other, not wanting to break the moment. When they made their way to the baggage claim, they were surprised to find all the passengers from her flight still standing around, waiting for their luggage. “I find out what’s going on,” he said, breaking away from her and going to the information desk. She stood by herself, watching the other people. She was so happy and relieved she thought she might cry.
Then, Terra’s old nemesis doubt crept in. Surely he felt what she felt. Right? She could see it in his eyes when he first saw her. He felt it too. It wasn’t just her. Right? Wait, what if I’m wrong? What if he’s just being nice, but doesn’t feel the same way? What if he just sees me as a friend? She looked over at him as he waked back toward her. He smiled, his teeth radiant white. “They say a delay. Are you okay?” He looked at her, concerned. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” she said. “Okay… they say a delay. About ten more minutes.” The words reminded her of the last time they made love. A warm flush went through her body.
“Here, come. I show you something,” he said, taking her hand. He led her to the far end of the terminal, near a bank of windows. They could see the brilliant blue of the Pacific Ocean, shimmering in the late afternoon light, spread across the horizon. “It’s beautiful,” she said, then turned and looked at him. She remembered how he seemed to have a need to face the ocean, like it was the thing that grounded him. His face looked serene as he gazed out at the water.
He turned to her, realizing she was looking at him. He pulled her hand, rolling her around so she was in front of him, her hips pressed against his upper thighs.
Looking down at her, he held her face in his hands. He moved one hand around the back of her head as he slid his other hand down her back. She rose up on her tiptoes. He kissed her. It started as a soft, gentle kiss, but quickly progressed. He opened his mouth as she did, their tongues greedily probing and rolling. Her body quickly lit up. She felt like Sleeping Beauty, asleep for the last year and now woken by his kiss. She was ravenously hungry for him, the passion of all those lonely nights overtaking her.
He broke their kiss, afraid of their rapid progression and where it might lead. They both glanced around, suddenly self-conscious, then turned back toward the window. They looked at the view, as if afraid to face each other again. They were shoulder to shoulder. Her pinky reached out and playfully hooked his. They swung hands until she slid her hand into his. She turned and looked at him. His profile was perfect. He turned toward her. The window light lit his face with a soft glow. He was so beautiful, it was astonishing, as if God had rendered him to some higher version of perfection. It wasn’t just her feelings for him—he really was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Even walking though the airport she noticed others doing near double takes as they passed. She was sure other women found him irresistible. But he was with her now. Her.
She tightened her grip on his hand. “How long did they say we’d need to wait?” she asked him. “Ten minutes,” he said. She could see the kiss had really gotten to him. He was breathing harder as he looked at her. His mouth was slightly open, as if needing to kiss her again. He seemed to be fighting to hold himself back. “Ten minutes?” she said. “Yes,” he said, breathlessly, his mouth
coming closer to hers.
The rest of the world seemed to slowly slip away. She looked into his emerald eyes. They were like a gateway to another place—a magical place, where desire and longing come home. They seemed to grant her a kind of acceptance. Acceptance of all her wants and needs. As he looked into her eyes, desire hit her so hard she thought she might start shaking, as she sometimes did when alone in bed and her need for him was so strong she’d forget to breathe.
“Ten minutes?” she said, squeezing his hand so hard it was like she was trying to hurt him. He nodded, spellbound, unable to speak as he stared at her.
“Nik…” she said. She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t even know what else she was going to say, but everything she was feeling seemed to come out in just that one word. His name. It was a question, a declaration, a whisper, and a request. Perhaps a command.
He broke their stare and looked around. Then he pulled her hand, quickly guiding her away. Around the corner was a small alcove area with a coffee cart on wheels. The cart was pushed flush to the wall and empty, as if abandoned. Nik pulled it out from the wall and slipped behind it, pulling her after him. He was so tall, the top of the cart only went to his shoulders. With his back to the wall, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down, sliding him down the wall.
She straddled him, falling on him, kissing him ravenously. She was never the aggressor in anything, much less sexually. But all her limits seemed to just to vanish. All she knew is that she wanted this man, and she had to have him. Now.
Their bodies seemed to meld as they fell into a deep, locking kiss, as if feeding on each other. As they kissed, she gathered her long wrap skirt and pulled it up around her waist. She lifted herself enough for him to quickly unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. She reached down with both hands. With one hand she reached behind her and pulled her panties to the side. With her other hand she grasped his cock at the base. The strong, firm feel of it was instantly familiar, like it had been imprinted on her brain. She felt an immediate sense of possession, overcome with an ancient territorial impulse to lay claim to him. She had to lift herself higher to rub the head of his penis to her opening. She squatted, pulling her hand away as she pushed her weight down. He slid into her. She pushed all the way down, lifting her knees, until the full length of him penetrated deep inside her.
