I laugh, can't help it. "You just have to remember to hold your breath when that happens, and wait until you can draw it again."
"That's good advice in general too," he says, moving a strand of my hair, so it's not dripping all over his arm and leg.
"I feel like I've been holding my breath for a very long time," I muse. "But I'm ready to take that breath again."
"Good," he says. "You deserve it."
We share a silence after that, but it's so full of things unspoken it's actually very loud. The sun is starting to set, and we'll have to leave soon if we want to make it to our car without getting lost in the jungle. But I also want this moment to last for a very long time yet.
"Are you going to leave now that the ditches are done?" I ask, surprising myself at having said it, but it's time to find out.
He doesn't reply right away, and this silence is not as pleasant as the one I just broke. It makes my heart beat faster, makes the layers that kept me untouchable for all these years harden again.
"I was thinking of staying," he finally says, sending my heart racing even harder, but in a much different pitch. "I'm gonna be 32 years old in January, and, I don't know, the kids maybe need someone like me around. I mean, I would have needed me when I was their age."
He pauses, my heart beating very erratically as I wait for what comes next, for the mention of me, of us. But it's just not coming, and the silence is growing hard again.
I'm staring straight ahead, at the waves breaking, the purple and orange waters of sunset. I used to think I'd always be alright as long as I had the ocean. But now I'm not so sure anymore, and it's scary.
He shifts and releases me, takes hold of my chin and makes me look at him. His eyes are deep green like the jungle stretching out behind our backs.
"You're here too, of course," he says. "And I don't want to go very far away from you. I think I'm in love with you, Chloe."
"You think?" I say stupidly. What I should be saying is, "I love you too."
"Well, it's hard to tell," he says, grinning at me. "I've never felt this way about anyone. I want to hold you all the time, and fuck you, and help you, and never let anything bad happen to you, and just generally do anything you want to do. All the time."
"Me too," I say, being dumb again. So I clear my throat, stare very deep into his eyes and start over.
"I love you too, Michael," I say. "More than I ever loved anyone, and I want all those things you just said too. And I want to stay with you forever."
"Mickey," he says, smiling at me.
"What?"
"That's what Father O'Reilly used to call me. I don't like Michael, only my mother called me that, and she and I are not friends."
"OK, Mickey," I say and smile. "I can call you Rider too, if you want."
"You know what?" he says, wrapping his arms around me tighter. "You can call me anything you want."
WE WENT out to dinner after we left the beach, so the orphanage is dark and deserted when we return.
He joins me in the shower, and we waste way too much water washing each other by the light of our flashlights. But the rain season is coming, so water will not be a problem. Especially now that he's dug us the ditches, and certainly never again, because he's staying. I still can't quite believe it's true. But he said he loves me, that he's staying. I didn't just imagine that, yet I'm still waiting to wake up from this dream.
We're both content to just let our hands and our fingers do the talking as we lather each other up, not missing a single spot. I love the shadows cast by the valleys and peaks of his abs, and my whole body is tingling, sparkling in anticipation of the night to come. His cock has been hard the whole time, since we undressed and turned on the water, and we're as clean now as we're ever gonna get.
He picks me up and carries me to my—our—bungalow. We're naked, but it's dark, so no one can see us. It's as though we're alone, but it's always like that when we're together. The rest of the world just fades away.
He lays me down on the bed, which I wish was wider, to better fit the both of us. But then there'd be too much space between us, and sometimes, when we're lying in my bed together, it feels like there already is.
He grins at me, as he kneels on the floor at my feet, gliding his hands up my legs as he spreads them apart. His touch is like a million tiny electrical shocks all coming together deep in my chest.
I sigh hoarsely as his lips touch my clit, moan loudly as his tongue goes to work. He keeps his eyes fixed on mine, as I slowly get lost in the bliss his tongue and his lips are waking inside me. He knows what he's doing, keeps me right at the edge of coming, until my need to, my yearning for release from this slow building pleasure, becomes all I know, all I can think about. With his tongue still caressing my clit, he pushes a finger into me, rubs that special spot inside me where all bliss originates. My whole body is crackling with the desire, the need to come, but he's still teasing me, still keeping me at the very edge.
He pulls his finger out, and I whimper in disappointment, right before I gasp, as it finds my other hole. He rubs a slow circle over it, my wetness aiding it's passage.
He's stopped licking my clit, is just rubbing it with his thumb now as his index finger massages my asshole, the new sensation of pleasure mixing with the old, and making me see double.
"You'll give me this hole too, right?" he asks hoarsely like it's not really a question.
I nod, and he chuckles at the naughty grin I'm giving him. I'll give him all my holes, they're all his. I'm all his.
I bite down on my lower lip as he pushes his finger into my ass, just the tip, but it feels like a lot more and reminds me of the fact that he has a lot more to give.
"You're so big though," I whisper amid a moan as he pushes his finger even deeper into me.
"Yeah," he says and grins, like I'm the first girl who's ever told him he has a big cock. "But we'll go slow, and you can take it."
I'm not so sure, but I'll try, and it's a decision that becomes even firmer as he starts kissing and licking my clit again, working his finger in and out of my asshole. I've done anal before, and it's in most of those videos my ex posted online, but he wasn't nearly as big as Rider is. But he's also never made me come as hard as Rider does. Not even close. And he's doing it again now, my vision completely blurry as the orgasm I've been craving finally washes over me with all the force of a tsunami, and just as breath-taking. He pushes his thumb deep into my pussy, and lets me ride the orgasm out, before removing his fingers.
When I regain my ability to breathe he's on the bed, kneeling between my spread legs, his cock pressing against my ass. He lifts my legs up and spreads them wider.
"Ready?" he asks with a very determined look in his eyes.
"I don't know," I answer truthfully.
"Well, I don't need a lot, and this ain't your first rodeo when it comes to anal, Chloe," he says, rubbing the head of his slick cock over my hole. "But if you don't want to, I won't force you."
"I want to," I whisper, still not completely sure until the words are out of my mouth. "But go slow."
He grins then spits in his hand, rubbing it on his cock. I don't know if a bit of spit will be enough, but I have no time to tell him that as he starts pushing his cock in. I gasp as my whole body wishes to tense against the intruder, but I won't let it.
He slows for a moment then pushes in deeper, retreats and repeats. It hurts, but the pleasure is greater, the pain bearable. After a few more of his shallow jabs, my body opens to accommodate him, because I was made for him, and he for me, and there can be no other way. He keeps pushing his cock in and out of me slowly, not going too deep at all.
The pain is gone now, fleeing from the blissful warmth suffusing me, as I start to feel his cock everywhere, my entire body one big, rippling zone of pleasure that keeps expanding and growing, until it's all there is. He keeps going, his thrust weaving the blanket of pleasure tighter and thicker, even my need to breathe secondary to accepting all this pleasure he's giving
me.
The orgasm that washes over me now has no end and no beginning, bathes everything in a timelessness that even my moans and shrieks can no longer rent.
CHAPTER 10
RIDER
Telling me her story chased away most of the clouds shading the ray of sunshine Chloe actually is. Hearing me say I loved her, in what must've been the most un-romantic way any man's ever said that to a woman, cleared the rest. I've never said that to a woman, never even came close to feeling what I feel for her. And as hurtful as her past is for her, the fact that she's desired by many just makes me want her more. Not that anyone else will ever have her. She's mine, and I mean to tell her that, and show her, for as long and as often, as she'll let me.
Right now, I'll do it by fixing her station wagon, so we can take it for a drive down the coast. I love my bike, but her surfboard won't fit on it, and I'm not married to it. As long as I'm moving, I'm happy, the actual means of transportation is of secondary importance. Not that I mean us to go far. She belongs here, and I won't try and take that away from her. I'll find my place here too. And maybe she'd even let me go for a ride, if I needed to. She's a free spirit like that, she understands the need to just go. Though right now I can't imagine going anywhere without her.
Both her station wagon and the minivan are older models, which is good, because there's virtually no fixing new cars without a computer, and I never mastered that. Nor wanted to.
Her car won't start, doesn't even make a noise, though that could just mean the battery's dead. But the breaks feel like they're pumping into nothing too. Might as well start by jumping the battery, see what part of the problem that solves.
But when I pop the hood it becomes very apparent that a dead battery is the least of the problems and starting it up won't solve a thing. Everything under the hood looks like someone went berserk on the poor thing. Wires and cables are ripped out everywhere, rusting in places from the spilt brake fluid that leaked out through the jagged holes in the container. The oil's also leaked out, and it's dried to a black, cracking mess. For a split second, I think Chloe did this to stop herself leaving, to anchor herself in this place forever. But this is the work of a deranged lunatic, and she's no psycho. She's the most honest, down-to-earth, and wholesome person I've ever known. Besides, I've been with some batshit crazy women in my day, and I know the signs of a psycho bitch well.
I check under the hood of the minivan, and the mess is even more extensive there. This might very well be beyond me to fix. Hell, I'm afraid it's beyond most fully equipped garages to fix. I'm pretty sure everything under the hood needs replacing.
Eduardo is heading for the showers, and I call him over. He comes, since I'm yelling so loudly he can't just ignore me, but he's got that disgusted look on his face he always gets lately when he's forced to talk to me. Which he does very rarely. He liked Chloe, and now I've taken her away from him and he hates me. I understand that very well too, but it's just tough shit for him, because she chose me, and I'm never letting her go.
"What the hell happened to the cars?" I ask once he's within earshot, smiling over his shoulder at Chloe who's also coming over, bringing me lunch it looks like.
The disgusted look on Ed's face is replaced by confusion.
"They are broken," he says.
I can't help, but laugh derisively. "You didn't check under the hood when they wouldn't start?"
Ed's good with the kids, but he's a total fucking failure at everything else a guy is supposed to be doing to keep a place like this running.
He hears Chloe coming and turns to look at her, and the expression on his face is so dark as their eyes meet, it takes real effort not to give him shit over it.
"You haven't told him yet, have you?" he asks her, and I like the contempt in his voice even less than that black look.
I'm almost out of reasons not to give him a hard lesson in how Chloe is supposed to be treated.
Chloe's face turns milky pale, and she looks very upset. Ed being an ass to her can't be the whole reason for that.
"Haven't told me what?" I ask her.
Her eyes meet mine, and she looks scared. That's the only way I can read her expression. But she's in no danger, so it makes no damn sense.
"Someone fucking tell me what this is all about?" I ask harshly, since they’re both staying silent.
"The cartel that runs this part of the country wants us off this property. While old man Gustavo was still alive, he could keep them at bay, but since his death, they've been giving us all sorts of problems. The people in the village won't do business with us anymore, or help us with repairs, which is why Chloe had to bring you here. They also messed up the cars, and it's probably only a matter of time before they come back for the jeep. Frankly, I'm surprised they haven't just come slit all our throats in the night, but I guess even hardened criminals like them can't stomach killing children. But for how long? They want this land, and if we don't go willingly they'll make us. That's why all the other volunteers already left. I'm halfway gone myself."
"Is this true, Chloe?" I ask.
She looks at me, her eyes still wide and afraid, but not completely. That pigheaded stubbornness of hers is in there too now.
"Yes, it's true," she says. "But they can't just run us off. This is our land now. Dom Gustavo left everything to the orphanage. It was his dying wish that we stay here. And I'm going to honor that."
"You're fucking kidding me, Chloe," I say, running my hand through my hair and pulling on it to stop myself from saying the wrong thing, like calling her stupid. She's not, but this game she's playing is very dumb.
"What do you mean?" she asks defiantly.
I just shake my head and walk away, since anything that comes out of my mouth right now won't be very nice. We're also about to have our first argument, and I'm not doing that in front of Eduardo.
She lets me walk away, and I hear their angry whispers, but can't understand what they're saying. She's probably pissed at Ed for telling me, but he's my best fucking friend for doing so.
I hear her jogging to catch up to me, and she calls my name, asks me to stop a couple of times, but I just keep going, right past the last row of bungalows and up the ravine towards the big house. I'm still not sure how to tell her that what she's doing is the most stupid thing in the fucking history of the world.
"Stop! Please talk to me, Mickey!" she shrieks suddenly, and I do it. I never want to walk away from her anyway, and this needs saying.
"Why are you acting like this?" she asks breathlessly once she reaches me at the top of the ravine.
"Because I don't know how to tell you that your plan is the dumbest and most dangerous thing I've ever heard. And I've heard some dumb plans in my time, believe me."
"This is our land, they can't just force us out," she says. "Dom Gustavo gave it to us."
"He's got nothing to worry about, he's dead," I spit out. "And that's exactly what you'll be soon, if you keep this shit up."
"Oh, come on," she says sarcastically. "You don't buy Ed's bullshit that they'll just kill us if we don't leave."
"It's not bullshit, Chloe, it's fact." I say even though she clearly had more to say. "This isn't some crooked land developer or banker you're dealing with, it's the cartel. A South American cartel. Jesus, Chloe, you can't seriously think they won't do whatever it takes to get you off this land. They will kill children. I'm surprised they haven’t already killed you all before I even got here."
"They haven't because they're not gonna," she says defiantly, but her eyes are growing scared again. I really fucking don't want her to be scared of anything ever again, but she should be of this.
"They're probably just dealing with something more important," I tell her in a softer voice then take her hand and pull her into my arms. She goes willingly like we weren't practically shouting at each other a second ago.
"What we need to do is pack up and go somewhere else," I say, holding her so I can look into her eyes in an effort to better convey just h
ow serious I am without needing to raise my voice.
"We have no cars and no money to buy them. And there's nowhere for us to go," she says.
"There's a whole country of places to go," I tell her and smile. "And I'll build enough houses for everyone somewhere safe. But this place ain't it."
Her eyes soften, the fear gone as she wraps her arms around my waist tighter. "I know you mean well, but you're wrong. We are safe here. Gustavo was here before the cartel, and he had an understanding with them. They won't attack us. I mean to give them the house and most of the land if they let us keep the bungalows. I just need to find someone to make this proposal to. And I will have more time to devote to that problem now the ditches are done, and we're safe from flooding."
The rain that's been threatening all day comes down all at once, like the flood gates of heaven just opened up over our heads. We're soaked in moments, but we're not moving, not speaking. And I'm sure she thinks it's because I'm considering her proposal, probably hoping I'll tell her it's a great idea. But that's not it.
What I'm actually seeing is my mother waving to me one last time before she boarded the bus and abandoned me on the side of the road. I'm watching Father O'Reilly drink himself to an early grave, taking with him another home of mine. I'm seeing Blade's dead body, getting the hurried midday call to get the fuck out of Arbor because the cops are coming for all Viper's Bite MC members, and I've done more shit for the brotherhood than most, so I'm high on the list of future convicts. I'm watching a replay of every damn thing that ever went wrong in my life, live and in vivid color. And I won't let Chloe be one of those things too.
I release her and grab her hand, start pulling her after me back down the ravine.
"What's happening, Rider?" she asks. "Where are we going?"
"We're getting the fuck away from here," I shout over the hissing of the rain.
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