“So if I give you a reason why I’m so special, you’ll trust me?” He teases, grinning.
“That was rhetorical …” I begin but he cuts me off and gets to his feet.
“Come.” He beckons, and all my questions kind of answered, I follow him. He reaches the shoreline and turns on me, excitement visible on his face.
“Take off your jacket, and that corset.” He demands of me.
“No, I’m not getting half naked in front of you!” I snap with an incredulous expression. How forward can you get? What exactly does he expect from me? The question drifts through my mind again, like a drop of blood in a clear pool.
“Please?” He asks, pouting. His pout is so sexy that I’m drawn back to my fantasy earlier today and before I can stop myself, I’m turning around and he’s using his smooth fingers to intimately unravel the ribbons binding my breasts and stomach flat. My strapless black bra holds my breasts firmly and covers more than enough of my private parts now that I think about it. The amount of cleavage that corset was producing probably makes this the least provocative of the two choices. I shiver as I stand feeling self-conscious under his scorching gaze. He doesn’t try to hide his appreciation of my body, smiling to himself as if he realises that acting as though he’s disinterested will increase my bare anxiety.
“Come.” He beckons once again, though it’s almost a growl now, slow, sexy … Oh my God, am I actually doing this? Standing half naked on a beach with a possible sex god I’ve met once … What does he want from me? My teenage self has overridden my common sense and I go to him. I, Callie Anya Pierce, who has only gone to first base, and with someone I didn’t like for that matter, am getting into the sea with a half-naked man, in just a bra and skirt. I walk forward slowly, grains of sand clinging to the bottom of my feet. I watch Orion dip beneath the waves and bob up above the surface into the open water. His broad forehead glistens as the water catches in his dark hair like diamonds.
“Come on out, the water’s great …” He calls to me and I step into knee deep waves which are surprisingly warmer than the surrounding air. I walk until I am waist deep and then Orion comes swiftly to meet me and I wonder why he’s impatient. He grabs my waist and pulls me onto his chest as he floats on his back on the surface of the water. I feel giddy at his body enclosing around me, claiming me and I look up at his chin, admiring his square jaw line. He begins to propel us backwards, faster than I could have ever imagined possible. I straddle his waist, feeling a little intimidated by the fact that my panties are all that separates my genitals from his stomach.
“Hold on!” He laughs up at me, amused. I must appear baffled at his speed. I do as he commands and grasp softly onto the muscle at his sides as he speeds forward, 100 meters from shore, 200 … We move through the water as though it were nothing more than air and as he speeds up I daringly throw my arms up and out to my sides, as though I’m standing on the bow of the titanic with Leo DiCaprio.
The moon is huge from out here, with no land to obscure its soft glory and my skin turns milky as it bathes me. Orion smiles up at me before slowing, his skin aglow just like mine, we must be around three or four miles from shore by this point, in only a matter of seconds. How is that possible?
“How do you swim so fast?” I exclaim breathless as he moves me into the water fully. He supports my body with his hands while keeping himself afloat, treading water effortlessly.
“I’m a good swimmer, always have been. Do you trust me now that I’ve shown you how ‘special’ I am?” He asks, not even looking like he has broken a sweat as we sped through the water. Water glistens with moonshine on his form as his hair sparkles with droplets from the ocean that surrounds us.
“That was rhetorical!” I reply, laughing at his naivety.
“Okay, you don’t play fair, so I won’t either …” His eyes glimmer with mischief and I can’t help but feel a little afraid. Moments later he disappears into the darkness, leaving me stranded … several miles from shore. I’m a crap swimmer, my mother having never taken me for lessons or to the beach, almost as though she was afraid of the water. Fabulous: I want to slap myself, how could I have been so stupid, trusting a man I’d just met with my life at sea. I start to breathe rapidly, panicking as I struggle to keep … oh wait … after a few seconds I realise Orion’s’ hands are still, however lightly, around my waist. I exhale. Feeling my belly relax. He surfaces looking sad.
“You actually thought I’d leave you out here?” He says coming out from under the surface without as much as a gasp for breath.
“Yes! Oh my God, of course I thought that, you total and complete idiot!” I scream at him, relief being replaced with fury. He pulls me to his chest, folding his arms around me and I pull away. “You scared the crap out of me!” I cry out, tears falling from my face in shock. His eyes look miserable as he picks me up in his two muscle packed arms. We speed back to shore and he holds me all the way there, saying nothing, lips pursed in frustration.
We return to the shore in a matter of minutes and he walks out of the ocean’s warm grasp with me dripping wet in his arms. He places me down on the sand and I want to kick and scream like a little girl. I feel like he took my defences away only to launch a Trojan horse. I slowly bring my sobs back to tiny hiccups, feeling embarrassed about the state of my snotty appearance over something so minor.
“Callie … I never let you go! I swear. I thought you would think it was funny! I never thought you would be so scared … I’m so sorry …” He looks as though he would stab himself in the heart if it would make me smile, his eyes are concerned with a kindness I have never known from a man. He puts his arm around my shoulder as I shiver and rubs my left arm up and down to try to warm me up. I feel myself soften and then crack under his tentative affection. My defences fall, tumbling to the ground. A rush of emotion bursts forth from the dam that my 18-year-old heart has become and I crack, telling Orion absolutely everything I’m afraid of.
“And that’s why when you disappeared; I thought you had left me stranded for good …” I conclude.
I’m sitting in the sand looking Orion straight in the face, after what feels like an eternity of nonstop venting and I can’t deny I feel like a weight has lifted. I look up at him as my shoulders relax, his gorgeous glacial blue eyes are blazing, a million emotions flickering behind their glassy surface. He has done little since I began my explanation, but nod and smile sympathetically, but I can tell he’s really listened to what I’ve said, taking in each word as if precious and long awaited.
“Well, I cannot say that is what I expected to hear, Callie. It would appear that you have had more trials in your life than most; it would also appear you have reason for such a lack of faith in the human condition. What your mother did must have been incredibly hard for you at such a young age.”He places an arm on my shoulder, his voice passing through the salty air between us, rough and sexy, but somehow soft as silk to my ears. “However, you have to understand, I’m different. I would never lie to you, or hurt you like that.” He concludes, looking deep into my eyes, as though staring hard enough will alter my view. I wonder why he cares so much. This whole situation is about as believable as Carl waking up tomorrow and riding off into the sky on a unicorn. If I wasn’t within touching distance of Orion, hadn’t felt his touch, I’d still think he was a dream.
“Yes, but it’s easy to say these things Orion, I’ve heard it all before.” I sigh and shake my head, ringlets tickling my ears. I look up into the sky, the moon is now high above us and after the few hours I have spent explaining myself to him, I feel tired. I want to trust him now, after all, he’s still here, even after hearing everything about my past, but a tiny part of me, the wounded little girl inside that sat for hours waiting for her dead father to return, is petrified of crying on her bedroom floor again.
“I know but … I won’t hurt you.” He tries to convince me and squeezes my shoulder with his hand, reminding me of the attraction that passes physically between us; the electricity in
his touch.
“I know.” I exhale. I do trust in that fact at least. How could I not after I’d seen the look in his eyes after thinking he had hurt me out in the sea was one of terrified guilt?
“So you do trust me … just a little.” He goads, smiling.
“I opened up to you, didn’t I?” I snap, realising that perhaps without wanting to, I have already given him my trust, along with enough knowledge of my problems to allow him to destroy me verbally.
“Yes, thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.” He vows, bringing a hand up to cradle my face. I stop breathing momentarily before I relax and smile against my better judgement. I can’t believe I just told a stranger of my dark-twisty past. It makes me feel kind of relieved, and then I remind myself that if I ever hope to find love, this is a hurdle I have to overcome. I have to learn to trust, to take the risk of being hurt.
I lean towards Orion and he moves his hand down to my back, cradling the rest of my semi- nude torso. He embraces me for a few more seconds in the silence that is only broken by the gentle lulling of the waves and I let myself become consumed, however temporarily with contentedness. Orion clears his throat, a guilty look in his eye. I wait for him to unleash the hurt I have risked being exposed to.
“I know this isn’t great timing, Callie, but I have to go out of town for a while, for work.” He sighs outwardly, as I try to pull away and he pulls me back stubbornly. “Callie, I’ll come back, I promise. It’s just patrol training.” He looks a little worried, like he revealed too much. It figures he was a Navy seal or something. I mean, the Naval base wasn’t that far away after all and look at him … the guy is stacked.
“Patrol training? What are you like … in the Navy or something?” I ask looking up at him curiously. His largely muscled body is still holding me, and as he pulls me tighter against his washboard abdominals I realise someone as muscled as he would probably do well in the armed forces. I can easily imagine him as a great fighter.
“Yeah, I’ve been called back for manoeuvres for a month. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it sooner, I’ve just been … enjoying your company.” He smiles down at me and I realise I would give anything to tie him to a tree until he agrees to stay with me and never leave. He makes me feel safe, I admit internally. I smile back and realise that perhaps, he is the first person I have ever been able to be completely honest with, and while I’m not entirely sure that he won’t hurt me, that feels pretty damn good right about now.
The night draws on and gradually fades into early morning as Orion and I sit in the sand, holding conversations about nothing in particular. They hold unspoken connotations of emotions that represent everything you could imagine. I find that while talking with him is easy, I’m self-conscious about coming across as young and so try to talk about my life outside of school.
I finally get to my feet and Orion laces me back into my corset, his fingers adept and quick, brushing lightly against my skin. The air is cooler now, so I place my leather jacket over my shoulders before turning and looking at him. His pale blue eyes look me up and down, a note of approval sizzling behind seductively half-closed lids.
“So, will I see you when you get back?” I ask impatiently, thinking that a month would feel like a year without him. How would I deal without him to vent to, to tell all my problems to? How had talking and being honest with him become so seemingly addictive and necessary in the space of one night?
“Yes of course.” He smiles in anticipation and grabs my hand. I feel like I’ve been injected with something, so wired I’m vibrating.
“Can we go to your place maybe?” I suggest gently, surprising myself. Did I actually just suggest that? I can’t help but wonder where this forwardness has come from.
“Can’t we meet here? I like the beach. It’s a lot more … romantic.” He requests and my heart skips a beat. So it’s not my imagination, he wants to be more than friends too? He feels this insane attraction just like I do?
I peek upwards under my eyelashes, giving him something to remember for the next month. It’s a look so seductive, so full of promise and promiscuity, that I find myself startled I’m able to perform it at all, considering my lack of expertise in this particular area. Okay that’s it. Easy girl, you don’t want him to get his hopes up TOO high. I startle myself again with this thought, what the hell has gotten into me? I need to be careful, or I risk falling over myself in order to please a man, just like my mom.
“Callie, please don’t look at me like that. You have no idea what it does to me. I’m feeling guilty enough about leaving already.” He drops my hands and places his own into the pockets of his jeans nervously. Slightly taken aback by his candour I change the subject quickly as the hair rises on the back of my neck.
“So, here at sundown in a month?” I ask, once again impatient. I’m growing wary at the prospect of Carl’s increasingly imminent eruption at my defiance.
“Yes. Until we meet again, Callie.” He bends down and kisses my cheek gently and I feel warmth spread through my body and a smile come to my lips.
“Until we meet again.” I whisper, touching the place where his lips had brushed just seconds before as he turns and walks into the black, diamond scattered, velvet blanket of the night.
It is not until I turn onto my street that the enormity of my rebellion hits. My stomach knots into balls of nervousness at the yelling and lecture I know is imminent, and probably deserved. My vintage lurches forward up the street in what seems like seconds as I pray for time to slow down. Hell, I muse, I’m a teenager; I’m supposed to pull crap like this. Right? Isn’t it my given right to sneak out and have fun? I wasn’t going to live forever. I’d rather take a chance on the one guy I’d ever felt anything for than sit in my room studying chem. Guilt threatens to overwhelm me, I know I’m making excuses for my bad behaviour but I can’t quite regret what I’ve done. I pull into the driveway, turn off the engine, apply the steering lock and get out of the car, breathing in deeply as I notice the hunched silhouette of someone sitting on the porch. I half expect it to be Carl, waiting to pounce like a balding panther and rip out my guts, but it isn’t. It’s my Mom.
“Hey”, I say cautiously as I approach her slumped form. She appears to be shivering, until I move into the light and she raises her head and I realise she’s been sobbing. I feel so guilty in the moment I see her face, that I want to join her in crying.
“Mom I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to …” I begin my practiced apology before she cuts me off in an exhausted tone.
“It’s Carl. He’s gone.” She explains and begins weeping again silently beside me as I sit down onto the porch.
“Why?” I ask, placing an arm around her shoulder, she shrugs me away.
“Because of you Callie, he said he just couldn’t deal with you anymore.” She says this calmly, but I can tell resentment is seething below the surface, though whether it is toward me, or Carl, I am not sure. She opens her mouth to speak again and I find I’m afraid of what will come next.
“How could you do this to me Callie? He’s my husband, he’s Kayla’s father!” She is no longer crying, but has worked up enough steam to become the woman she used to be, the strong, formidable woman that’s been slumbering for years.
“Mom, I’m sure he’ll come back.” I comfort her, a massive knot of guilt and horror unfurling inside me as she shoves me away again.
“No! He won’t, he took his stuff Callie! The car, his clothes, the TV, everything!” she screams and then starts sobbing again. Out in the street a front door opens and our neighbour opposite, Mrs Jenkins, an elderly woman of eighty odd, is stepping outside in her dressing gown.
“Everything okay ladies?” she calls in her old, wobbling voice.
“Yes everything is great, thanks! Goodnight!” I yell back across the street. Her pruned face creases into a gap-toothed smile and she turns back, closing her door behind her in slow, precise movement. Why the hell can’t she mind her own goddamn business? I snap internally, but then realise I
’m angry at the wrong person. I made my bed, this is my fault. As I turn, I see that Mom has turned and stormed back inside the house.
I follow her, my heart in my throat, my blood roaring in my ears. I wonder if she’s going to yell at me but then I hear the door of her bedroom slam shut and I breathe out, relieved. I close the front door behind me, and then I hear another sound, one so desperate and sad that tears begin to trickle down my cheeks before I can stop them. I walk slowly up the wooden staircase, past my own room and open the door into another with pink walls. A wrought iron bed stands central in front of the window that overlooks the garden, with a cascade of white gossamer netting surrounding it, strung from the ceiling.
“Kayla?” I call out into the darkness as I hear muffled sobs coming from under the bed. I turn on the light and duck down onto the cold wooden floor, peering into the shadows under the bed. There, on the cold floor, Kayla is lying curled up in a ball, cuddling three of her most favourite teddy bears. “Kayla, what’s wrong?” I whisper, reaching toward her and pulling her down towards me at the foot of the bed. She hardly weighs anything and when she emerges; her usually silky hair is strewn over her face, drenched in tears and sweat. She doesn’t answer but crawls up into my lap, abandoning all three of her teddies on the floor and wrapping her clammy arms around my neck. She weaves her chubby fingers through my hair and muffles her despair into my shoulder. She cries for what seems like an eternity and I try to soothe her, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, rubbing her back slowly, and rocking her back and forth, but nothing I do works. It feels like it’s been hours when I finally carry her from the floor into bed, turn out the light, and cuddle up beside her. Her little feet are cold from the floor but I don’t mind.
Exhaustion finally beats her and she makes a final pitiful whimper before placing one thumb in her mouth and falling asleep with her head on my chest. I hold her in the darkness, unable to sleep. Is this all my fault? Did I destroy this family? Did I pave the way for my innocent, baby sister to suffer the same absence of a father as I have? These are the questions I ask myself as I lay there in the dark, listening to Kayla’s stifled breathing. I wonder if this is entirely my fault. I wonder why nobody is blaming Carl in this. But most of all, I don’t wonder, most of all, I wish for my little sisters happiness and the return of my mysterious stranger. I reach up under the covers, to my tear stained cheek, the place where he kissed me, the place still burning with the anticipation of his return.
The Kiss That Killed Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 1) Page 7
