“Oh, well,” she says mildly, “it was, you know, probably pretty normal for a first time. Awkward. Uncomfortable. A bit embarrassing. I wasn’t that sure about the whole thing to begin with, but I was almost twenty, and I felt like the last virgin on the planet by then. And David wanted to, of course.”
I bet he did. The bastard.
“So after the first time…” she says quietly, and I can see that there’s a question in her eyes, but I’m not sure what it is.
“Yes?”
She looks away for a second and then chews her lip anxiously.
“Babe, you can ask me anything. As long as you’re prepared to hear the answer.”
She looks over at me and swallows.
“What was it like after the first time?”
“With Jessie?”
“Yes.”
I allow my mind to find those memories for a second, and it’s as if they’ve been standing at the door, waiting to be asked in from the cold. As soon as I open it a fraction they rush in.
“It didn’t last long at first,” I say, rolling back onto my back so that I’m looking up at the roof. “But then we got better at it, and by the end.. it was beautiful. I always wanted to be with Jessie; from the very first time I met her. When I was a kid I wanted to be part of her family, then when I got older I wanted her to be mine. When I was inside her, it felt like everything I ever wanted fell into place. It felt like because we were joined her goodness spilled into me, washing away all the shit I felt inside. While it lasted, anyway. When I made love to her, everything felt right.”
I look over at her and see that she’s lost in thought. I realize too late that she might even be crying.
“What’s the matter?” In between us, I find her hand. “I’m sorry if that was hard to hear.”
“It’s not that,” she mumbles and sniffs away a tear. “I’m happy that you had that with Jessie. I’m just sad because I think I’ve just realized what I’ve been missing.”
I could ask her some really personal questions about what a shit lover David was right now; they’re hanging in the air, waiting for me to pluck them. But instead I roll on top of her and prop myself up onto my elbows on either side of her face. She gasps a little when she feels the weight of me on top of her, and her eyes are wide with wonder.
I dip my head and kiss her savagely because I want her to feel how powerful and consuming this can be. She reaches her hands under my shirt and runs them up my back, tilting her hips and pushing them into me. I hear myself groan into her mouth. I could take off her dress right now, there’s no one on the beach to see us, and I know she wants me. I can feel her hunger; it’s as raw and naked as my own. I want to give in to it but then suddenly there’s a small voice inside me warning me to be careful. At first I can block it out, covering it up with the sound of Hartley breathing under me and the rush of the sea under the floorboards. But it grows louder, refusing to be ignored. Suddenly I’m thinking about all of the one night stands and the women I made empty promises to. The bedroom fucks and the fucks up against the walls of bathroom stalls in seedy bars. The nice girls who made love to me on clean sheets not knowing that the whole time I was blinding screwing them my mind was a million miles away, desperately trying to get back to a time when it actually meant something. The memories tug at my brain, threatening to merge with what's happening right now with the girl I think I love underneath me.
I pull away from her suddenly, breathing hard and lie back on the cushions. I can hear her breathing next me to me. Neither of us speaks for a while.
“So,” she says later into the warm night air. “This celibacy thing…”
Her voice trails off, and I roll onto my side so I can see her face.
“Yes?”
“How long do you intend to keep that up, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” I tease to try to cover my panic. “It’s been working really well for me so far. I’m getting so much more done. I’ve got all of this energy to exercise more, and I’m working heaps, and I’m not tired so I don’t need to sleep as much…”
“Crew.”
She rolls onto her side and looks me in the eye.
“If you have no intention of sleeping with me, if you can't sleep with me for some reason, then you’ve got to stop kissing me like that.”
“Like what?” I murmur and then lean forward to pull her bottom lip between my teeth. She sighs heavily and closes her eyes. I kiss her slowly this time, slower than she wants.
“Like that,” she gasps, some time later.
I pull back a bit so that I can see her. God, she’s amazing, the way she’s got her eyes closed and her hand is grasping the cushion under her head. I want this to be different with her. I need this to be different with her.
“Stay in my cabin tonight,” I whisper.
She opens her eyes, and nods.
Chapter Twenty Six
Hartley
He pulls a key attached to a string out of his pocket and opens the padlock that locks his door. The room is small and silver with moonlight.
“Come in,” he says, pulling me through the doorway by the hand.
I watch him as he bends down and lights a thick white candle, and slides the screens across the open windows to keep out the bugs.
The room is empty except for a mattress on the floor covered by a mosquito net and a rucksack leaning against the wall next to a stack of well-thumbed books. It’s spartan and austere, like a monk’s cell. Yellow light dances up the wooden walls and across the ceiling. I stand by the door suddenly overcome by nerves, and when he turns around to look at me, he’s hesitating, too.
“You look scared,” he says quietly, putting his hands in his pockets. He makes no attempt to come closer to me.
“I’m not scared,” I mumble, but my voice reveals the lie.
He waits by the bed for a moment, thinking, and then crosses the floor between us.
“Am I making you nervous?”
He takes another step forward so that my back is pressed up against the door, putting his hands into my hair and cradling my head against his chest.
“Do you want this?”
I press my ear against him, listening to the reassuring thud of his heart.
“Yes.”
He pulls away from me, looking down, and his eyes are hot and glinting in the soft yellow light of the room.
“Once this happens, there’s no going back.”
I close my eyes when his mouth bends to my neck.
“Was there ever?”
His lips are gone, and then they’re back again, pressing softly against my mine. We whisper into each other’s wet mouths.
“I like your dress. Take it off.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You take it off.”
He bends his head and kisses the hollow of my throat while he lifts the bottom of my dress and runs his hands up the back of my thighs.
“Hartley,” he whispers into my skin, “you feel….”
“Mmmmm,” I say back, clutching handfuls of his shirt in my hands.
He walks backward, pulling me with him until we’re standing in front of the mattress on the floor. We pause for a moment, looking at each other, and then he lifts his t-shirt over his head.
I’ve seen him before, of course, but never like this. Never in the soft evening light, his eyes clouded with desire and knowing he was mine.
“You look beautiful,” I whisper, and he shakes his head.
“Lie down.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Crew
“I’m taking this off,” I murmur against her mouth. She nods and moves back from where I’m sitting in front of her on the bed.
I lift her arms out of the straps and pull the zipper down. She’s not wearing a bra.
“Oh God.”
“Sssshhh,” she moans, leaning forward to crush her lips against my mouth. “People down there might hear you.”
Her breasts graze my chest, an
d I wrap an arm around her back, pulling her to me so that there’s no space between us.
“I promise I won’t make a sound.”
Her skin is incredible, soft and smooth and pale against mine. She blows air against my neck through parted lips, and I press her closer so that her heart is against my heart.
“Take everything off,” she murmurs, “I want to see you.”
I pull away from her and slowly pull off my pants and boxer shorts. Her eyes flick down, once, and then she looks up into my eyes.
“Show off.”
I smile and move forward, placing my hands on her shoulders, and gently press her back into the pillows. She reaches behind her head and loosens her hair so that it spreads out around her, like a halo.
She’s so damn gorgeous lying there, her eyes hot and her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. I could watch her like this forever.
“Are you ready for this?” she whispers and looks up into my face.
“No.”
“Me neither,” she smiles. “Come here.”
I lie on my side next to her and rest my head on my arm. My hand trails a line from her jaw, down the side of her neck to the curve of her breast. She closes her eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about this ever since I saw you put that first spoon of ice cream in your mouth,” I say, planting kisses down her arm, along her collarbone, across her breasts.
“You didn’t even notice I was alive,” she gasps, and I reach down and run a hand up the inside of her leg. She parts them slightly.
“Not possible,” I murmur between kisses, “I saw you. I always see you. Open your eyes.”
She does, and when I look into them her longing is exposed, floating just beneath the surface.
I move my hand up, along her thigh, and then over the lace of her underwear near her hip.
“Take these off,” I say, and she nods, unable to speak.
She hooks a finger into the waistband on either side and lifts herself up to peel them off.
“Beautiful,” I whisper against her skin and trace my finger down, over her stomach, her hip, lower. I bend down, resting my head against her ribs just under her breasts. She clutches my hair and my back and when she tries to move away from my touch I press her into the mattress with my arm.
“Please..” she cries out, and I lift my head, placing my cheek against her breast.
“Not yet. You feel so good.”
She has one hand in my hair, the other grasping at the sheet next to her. She can’t wait much longer, and neither can I.
I pull away reluctantly and climb over her, supporting myself on my arms. She runs her hands up over my shoulders and gently down my back and looks up into my face.
“You are the sexiest man,” she murmurs lifting her mouth into my neck. “I can’t take it.”
I nudge her knees a little with my hip, and she parts her legs, taking a deep breath.
“Keep your eyes open,” I whisper, “look at me.”
I want to look at her, through her eyes and into her soul. I want her to see me, too. Because if we close our eyes, I’m worried that this moment between us might fracture, and old memories will flood in to fill the gaps. More than anything I’m desperate for there to be only two people in this bed tonight. Go, Jessie, I plead silently, please Jessie, please go.
“Wider,” I murmur, pulling myself back to the present and kissing her hungrily.
She arches her back and puts her hands at the back of my neck, pulling my mouth harder against hers. Her knees are trembling on either side of my waist.
And then suddenly there is no time, there is only movement and breath, softness against hard, heat and wet and pleasure that is almost pain.
“I need…”
“Don’t stop.”
“You feel..”
“I can’t. Babe, I can’t.”
And then, when it’s over, and my heart is hammering in my chest like gunfire, I pull her legs around my waist and rest my head on her breast. She strokes my hair, runs her fingertip along my eyebrows and draws circles on my back.
And this time, for the first time, I’m the one who cries.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Hartley
“I’m sorry,” he breathes into my skin. “I wanted that to be better for you. It’s just that you felt so good, and it’s been so long.”
I reach down and place a finger over his mouth.
“Ssssh. That was amazing, the best it’s ever been for me.”
He freezes for a moment and then he’s shaking his head, laughing into my breast.
“Oh Hartley, we’re going to have so much fun.”
“Oh really?” I smile as I twirl a piece of his hair around my finger.
“You have no idea.”
He rolls off me then and lies down on his side next to me.
“That sounds a little ominous.”
“Does it?”
He runs a hand lazily over my stomach and down the side of my hip. I look down at his arm, brown and thick with muscle against my lily-white skin.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, moving closer so that his lips graze my shoulder.
“Sure.”
“It’s kind of a serious question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you still have feelings for David?”
At the mention of his name my heart gives a kick and not in a good way. I thought I’d made myself clear when it came to my desire to have a fresh start in Twin Heads, so my first instinct is to be a little annoyed. But then I get it.
“You mean because of you and Jessie?”
He sighs heavily, his breath warm against my skin.
“I know how intense a first love can be. And up until a few minutes ago he was the only man you’d been with. I guess I just want to understand where your head is at. If you still have some feelings there, you know, I think that would be understandable.”
“Crew,” I say, turning onto my side and propping my head up with my hand. “What you had with Jessie doesn’t sound anything like my relationship with David. I don’t miss him. I don’t want to see him again, ever. And if it’s ok with you,” I add quietly, “I’d rather not talk about him again. I just want to leave all of that in the past.”
He looks at me seriously, his eyes searching mine. I open my mouth to say something and then quickly shut it, changing my mind.
“What is it?”
“Don't worry about it, it's nothing.”
He reaches an arm up and runs it down my side.
“I don't think so. What is it?”
I sit up and pull the sheet from the end of the bed, wrapping it around me and tucking it in front. He’s rolled onto his back, his arm under his head, his eyes soft in the candlelight.
“Ok,” I begin, taking another look around the room. “Where is home for you, Crew?”
His eyebrows lift in surprise. Whatever he was thinking I was going to say, it wasn't that.
“Your house in Twin Heads looks like no one lives there. You have three completely empty bedrooms. There are no photos anywhere or clothes in the wardrobes. You have one towel in your bathroom.”
He doesn't say anything, so I continue.
“So I thought maybe this would be more like a home to you. But this room is like something you'd see in a monastery. There's nothing in here; you don't even have electricity.”
“I like simplicity,” he says mildly, but his eyes are wary.
“I love this place too. But I guess I'm wondering, or hoping really, that you have a place that you think of as home.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know,” I say quietly as I trace a finger over his stomach and up the side of his ribs. He shivers but keeps his eyes on me. “A place where you feel completely comfortable. Somewhere that you look forward to returning to. A place to keep all of the things that are special to you. Close your eyes.”
He looks at me for a moment and then lowers his eyelids with a sigh. I lie d
own next to him, my head on his chest.
“Now imagine you're having a really, really bad day. The worst.”
Under my cheek, I feel his muscles tense and his breath catch in his chest. I quickly put a hand over his heart and kiss his skin.
“Not that kind of day, Crew.”
He relaxes slightly under me and takes a deep breath.
“Carry on.”
“Imagine it's been raining all day and you’re late to work and when you go to lunch, you realize you forgot your wallet. Then your computer keeps logging you out and you can't get through to anyone to fix it. Your clothes are uncomfortable, you think you're getting a cold, and then the guy sitting next to you in the afternoon meeting smells like onion.”
“Wow,” he says, his mouth lifting in the corner. “That is a bad day.”
“Yes,” I say firmly, “it was. Now, at the end of this very bad day, when you're finally on your way home, where are you heading? What image comes into your head?”
He opens his eyes and looks down at me.
“You.”
“I’m your ‘home’?” I whisper.
He rolls onto his side, facing me.
“Why does a home have to be a house?”
I place a hand at the back of his neck and thread my fingers through his hair.
“I'm worried that you live like this to stop yourself from belonging anywhere. Everybody needs to have roots, Crew. A place to return to.”
He leans forward and gently kisses my mouth.
“I am rooted, but I flow.”
“Exactly. Never argue with Virginia Woolf.”
“I have a house, at Ondas. It's three bedrooms. It even has furniture in it.”
I smile against his mouth.
“But I've never lived in it. I gave it to the manager and his family. It doesn't make sense for it to sit empty for most of the year when he needs a house to raise his kids in.”
“Very noble,” I murmur, kissing him slowly, “but where do you stay when you're there?”
“In a cabin in the forest with a mattress on the floor.”
I groan and roll away from him, throwing my arm across my face.
Still Waters Page 14
