Among The Cloud Dwellers (Entrainment Series)

by Giuliana Sica

  “Gabe, you’re tickling me.”

  “Can’t be,” he mumbled. “I’m not even hard yet.”

  I giggled again. “That’s not what I meant.” I smoothed my hips against him, checking . . . or perhaps I’m just a chronic tease.

  “But it’s not a bad idea,” I offered when I felt him respond.

  “I can’t believe you called it tickling.”

  Fully awake and aroused, he pinned me, face down, with the weight of his body.

  “It was your breath,” I said with my voice muffled by the pillow. I turned and gasped for air as he parted my legs and wound my hair around his hand.

  “My breath?” he whispered, gently biting into the curve of my shoulder.

  “Never mind—just stop teasing.” The feral urge to have him inside me was unbearable.

  “What do you want, luv?” he asked, sinking his teeth into the softness of my earlobe. A pang of pain ricocheted through my spine, echoing in ripples of desire, and I grasped for the sheets as my back arched in silent begging.

  “You.” I ached.

  “Say it.” He lifted his fingers to brush my mouth. I took his thumb into my parted lips and ran the hot tip of my tongue along it. I felt him inch closer against the tender flesh between my legs.

  Not close enough.

  I moaned and bit his thumb. “I want you inside me.” I flexed my left arm behind me to guide him.

  He let go of my hair to take hold of my wrist and lifted it away, back above my head. His right thumb was still inside my mouth, but the hardness pressing between my buttocks remained a yearning.

  “I can’t wait. Please, Gabe,” I moaned, stripped of inhibitions.

  “But I like this.” His rich voice dripped in my ear. He kept from penetrating but slid down deeper and found the swollen heart of my desire. I felt the pulsing of his hardness rub against it and met it with my hips thrusting backwards. My mouth found the rest of his fingers and sucked, one at a time. “That’s what I was looking for.” Its head stroked me intimately.

  I smiled against the pillow and lifted my hips in one swift move. He slid smoothly deep inside me. And I contracted my inner muscles and trapped him.

  He gasped as the tight grip sucked, pulsed, and brought him to finish suddenly.

  “That’s what I was looking for,” I whispered when, seconds later, he crashed against my back.

  “You’re wicked.”

  “And more.” I smiled.

  Tess’s head peeked through the door and looked at us.

  “I think she’s checking to see if we’re done and if it’s safe to join us.”

  Gabe lifted his head. “Looks like it.” He patted the blankets to encourage her.

  In two huge jumps she hopped up on the bed, wiggling her tail like a busy feather duster, and settled right between us. She took a look at me and smiled, turned her head to look at Gabe, and gave him a huge lick on the chin.

  “G’day to you too, Tess,” he said, pushing her face away.

  “How about I leave you two to enjoy your morning effusions and I jump in the shower?” I moved out of their reach.

  “How about we join you?”

  “How about coffee?” I yelled, closing the bathroom door behind me.

  I took a long, warm shower and spent extra time caring for myself. I used extra conditioner on my hair and combed it through, detangling it before rinsing in the relaxing warm water. Once out, I wrapped my head in a dry towel and took advantage of the lingering steam to carefully apply, with a soothing massage, amber infused lotion all over my body.

  I opened the bathroom door in a cloud of amber scented steam and met the beckoning scent of coffee.

  In the kitchen, Gabe was loading the dishwasher, wearing only a pair of flannel lounge pants and the phone trapped between chin and shoulder.

  “I’ll be there. Just don’t bloody fuck with it, mate, ’til I get there.” Anger burst in sparks flaring from the sharp metal blade of his voice.

  I froze in the doorframe.

  He spun around and saw me. Our eyes met for an instant, but he quickly shut me out and focused away.

  Maledizione!

  He backed against the kitchen counter and braced himself, turning his knuckles white with effort.

  I pushed off the doorframe, steered away from him, and poured a cup of coffee. Gabe silently pointed to a steaming mug on the dining table all set for breakfast, and I attempted a contrite smile. “Do you need privacy?”

  He shook his head and abruptly ended the phone conversation. “Gomi, just be on it, but don’t bloody talk to them. Whatever you do, mate, don’t let them in. I’m on my way.” He set the phone down on the counter behind him, folded his arms across his bare chest, and dropped his chin. I took a sip of scorching coffee and waited.

  For what seemed an eternal lapse of time.

  Suddenly, Gabe turned the dishwasher on and walked out of the kitchen, mumbling something about a shower.

  Ma che caz . . . ?

  The soft whoosh-whoosh of the dishwasher filled the silence. The coffee mug radiated heat into my hand, but my bare feet were getting cold on the floor, so I brought them up on the chair and tried to stretch Gabe’s robe, which I had borrowed, over my toes. The crimson toe polish had chipped and looked in dire need of being wiped off and reapplied. I lifted my head and caught Tess watching me from the pantry door. Her head tilted to one side, she walked up to me. I scratched her ears and asked her if she knew what was going on. Instead of answering, she walked away down the hall toward the bedroom and the muffled sound of running water.

  *

  Several minutes later, they both walked back in, Gabe wearing a pair of faded jeans and a burgundy polo shirt. He had showered and shaved his desert stubble but had left a sexy goatee to shadow his sensuous mouth. He took the coffee mug he had abandoned on the counter, nuked it for a few seconds, topped it with fresh coffee, and finally walked up to the table and sat next to me. Still wet from the shower, his hair hung in soft spikes down his forehead. He took a sip of coffee, pushed the chair back, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned closer to me, holding the coffee mug with both hands. I followed his golden head as it bent and remembered the chipped polish. I made sure my toes were safely tucked away.

  Gabe lifted his clear blue eyes at me. And the burdened sky, tired of holding its load, finally exhaled.

  “Drivers are being summoned.”

  I frowned.

  The dishwasher paused, switching cycles, and in the silence, in that momentary gap of noise, I understood.

  With trembling hands I set the now-tepid coffee mug down. “And . . . ?”

  He looked at me for an eternity before shaking his head. “Gomi said there’s an envelope at the shop.”

  “You need to go down—”

  “The place is surrounded by reporters.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “While we were in the desert.” His eyes never left mine. He blew at the rim of his cup to cool the steaming black coffee. “Gomi’s been trying to reach us for the past few days, but you’ve got my mobile.” He had the spirit to wink at me and took a sip of coffee.

  I had completely forgotten about the damn phone. Heck, I didn’t even take that bag to Nowhere.

  “I see.”

  I did more than just see. I tasted metal at the back of my throat. His fever reached out to me, but it wasn’t all darkness. A tiny seed of excitement stirred, eager to grow, fed on by the flame of challenge. Like our love did, from seed to flower . . . following its destiny.

  “Who’s at the shop?”

  “Gomi, the crew, and Clark.” The shadow of a smile appeared on his lips. “Barking at the mob of reporters, I reckon.” He took a long look at me. “If we give it a burl and head down there now, it won’t be a piece of piss to give them the flick, luv. It’s London t
o a brick they’ll be all over us.”

  I nodded. Not only would we face the media frenzy about the breaking news, but we’d expose our relationship to their devouring jaws as well. I couldn’t begin to imagine the sensation the news would raise, especially now with the Oz Endurance casting Gabe back in the midst of headline news.

  Were we ready for all the attention?

  I shook my head and he nodded once. We agreed.

  He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. “Gomi’s so excited he’s splitting out of his skin. Even offered to head up this way and bring the envelope to us, but I don’t want him to lead them back to the house. Sometimes I think the kid’s got kangaroos loose in the top paddock.” Gabe tapped a finger to his right temple.

  “You mean he acts like a nut?”

  He nodded.

  “I thought the race isn’t supposed to take place for another couple of months.”

  “That’s right, Porzia, but it takes time to get things ready, and two months to prepare for something this big is nothing. Especially with all the secrecy around it. I still don’t know how many, who they are and—”

  “And you’ve been preparing,” I finished for him, thinking of his almost-completely outfitted pipe dream. “You’re one of them.”

  *

  I left Gabe to call Gomi back. In the bedroom I dressed my body as one would dress an inanimate puppet, my amber-scented skin the only familiar comfort.

  Sharing silence, we drove into town together, but he dropped me off about four blocks away from the shop and gave me Tess on a leash. The plan was for me to walk to the shop and check out the crowd of vans and cameras parked outside the main entrance. Nonchalantly walking amongst them, I would shoot for the back door, heading straight into the garage. Gabe, meanwhile, would drive straight into the midst of the madness and leave it to the reporters to get the hell out of his way, as he mildly put it.

  Nice plan.

  The morning sung crisp and bright in downtown Adelaide. Despite the fabulous weather, I walked in a daze, holding my breath still in the eye of blurred, out-of-control events. I dreaded the moment my so far belated, yet unavoidable, reaction would come crashing down on me. Tess pulled on the leash, forcing me to quicken my step. I tried to detangle the knot of feelings churning in my stomach, but to no avail. I barely dared inhale and exhale. In order not to stir dormant demons, I wasn’t breathing properly.

  The sun peeked from behind high clouds. A hint of warmth hung in the flower-scented air, and passersby sharing the sidewalk with me seemed to feel it too. Scarves hung loosely from unbuttoned coats, smiles were exchanged, and “G’days” wished. A few people stopped to pet an ecstatic Tess basking in the extra attention. We passed a bakery, a small bank, a travel agency advertising specials to Thailand, and the lavender restaurant where I’d had lunch with Gabe on my last visit. I glanced inside to read the special of the day—meatloaf. Despite all, I smiled. I was about a block away from the shop when a rush of TV vans buzzed up the road, madly driving away from Gabe’s business. I quickened my pace and arrived at the now deserted main entrance. Gabe’s Rover pulled in right behind me.

  Clark swung the front door open and cast me a forlorn look. “G’day, Porzia. Nice to see you’re still here.”

  Uncertain what he meant by this remark, I arched an eyebrow and was about to reply when I felt Gabe’s hand at the small of my back. “Let’s get inside before anybody spots us, Porzia.”

  “So it worked?” Gomi asked, flashing one of his stunning smiles.

  “So I reckon.” Clark took a seat on a wheeled chair by an old metal desk.

  “What did you guys do?” I asked, intrigued.

  “They anonymously tipped one of the local TV crews about having spotted me somewhere else, far away from here,” Gabe explained.

  “That’s about right,” Gomi beamed. “Only you don’t know where we sent them.”

  “But you’re about to tell me,” Gabe replied, taking off his leather jacket.

  “You’re down at the Thai parlor getting a massage.” Gomi grinned from ear to ear.

  Gabe chuckled, “Did I have a gift certificate?”

  Clark shook his head and unleashed Tess.

  “Porzia, you haven’t met the rest of the team.” With a reassuring, if not somewhat possessive, hand at my back, Gabe encouraged me closer to the three intrigued fellows. “Matt, here, is our brakes and suspension expert. Matt, this is Porzia.”

  I shook Matt’s strong hand and smiled at his freckle-covered face. “Nice to meet you.” His smile broke wide and his nose crinkled.

  Dan, a balding fellow in his mid-thirties, with piercing dark eyes, was next. “Porzia? That’s a Latin name. It almost sounds like ‘portal’.”

  “That’s right,” I said, returning his firm handshake.

  “I took Latin in school for a while,” he offered.

  “Yeah, leave it to Dan to waste time with dead things like Latin and ancient carburetors,” the last fellow I shook hands with said in a friendly, mocking tone. Almost as tall as Gabe, but not as broad, his honest eyes twinkled with barely disguised sarcasm. “Rohan. At your service.” He bowed.

  “We keep him around for moral entertainment mostly.” Gabe’s own tone was coated with similar friendly sarcasm. “The fact that he’s the best hot-wire in the country is irrelevant.”

  “Hot-wire?” I asked.

  Rohan nodded. “That’s only one of my many talents.”

  I was afraid to ask what else he was good at.

  “What’s going on then, mates?” Gabe asked. He rolled Clark’s chair aside, with Clark sitting in it, to lean against the desk, and folded his arms across his chest. It was becoming a habit.

  “The Aborigines released a number of international invitations—I reckon it’s invitations by mail—’bout two days ago, and the international media’s been all over them,” Rohan explained. “We’re getting our fair Oz share.”

  “Who’s going?” Gabe asked.

  “Everybody we thought of,” Gomi answered.

  “So that narrows it down to—what? Twenty at the most?” Rohan snickered.

  “Just about,” Gomi continued. “Funny thing is—they’re all keeping quiet. Nobody’s talking.” He shot Gabe a searching look. “They’re all waiting to see what you’re going to do before accepting—”

  “Then how does the media know who’s going to participate?” I asked.

  “They don’t have a bloody clue, Porzia.” Clark answered my question. “They’re just targeting whoever got an envelope.”

  “Boy, we were crowded this morning. This place hasn’t seen so much action since we came back from Dakar—,” Gomi blurted.

  As if cued by a maestro’s invisible stroke, the mood changed instantaneously. They all exchanged uncomfortable glances and suddenly found things to do: Matt mumbled something about coffee; Dan silently bent to pet Tess; and Rohan patted a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and walked out. Dan took Tess and followed Rohan out the back door.

  That left Clark, Gomi, and me.

  “Would you like me to leave, Gabe?” I asked him. I thought he might need some privacy to discuss things with his father and best friend. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to be there.

  “No, Porzia. Not unless you’d like to.”

  I locked eyes with Clark and answered his silent plea. He didn’t want Gabe to accept.

  Did I?

  “I’m fine for now,” I conceded, not breaking eye contact with a desolate Clark. “But I’m going to walk out if I need to.”

  “Fair enough,” Clark accepted, gaining a questioning look from his son. He held the gaze and leaned forward in his chair, reaching for the front pocket of his denim shirt. With his middle and index fingers he peeled out a thin white envelope. “Here it is, son.”

  I blinked and he suddenly looked as thou
gh he had aged ten years. With a spasm of pain and fear gripping my own heart, I realized Clark was scared to death.

  No. Not to death. Of death.

  Fear streaked his features like etching on leather. I felt it slither up my skin. He faced the chance of losing his only son.

  I selfishly shut him out. Shut out the depth of his pain. I didn’t want to go there. I had my own pain to deal with, my own challenge to face.

  Gomi leaned against the hood of a white Subaru covered in sponsors’ decals. The short walk in the crisp air that I had enjoyed minutes earlier seemed a dream; my labored breathing remained the only tangible effect.

  It was suddenly hot in the garage. I brought a hand to my throat and felt my frenzied pulse against my sweaty fingertips. No gap between heartbeats. No room for magic.

  Gabe reached for the envelope and, without a word, shoved it into his jeans pocket. Unopened.

  He took my damp hand and spoke to Clark. “I’ll ring you later. Keep Tess tonight?”

  Clark, massaging his eyes vigorously, barely nodded his agreement with shut eyelids.

  Gabe steered his gaze toward Gomi, and Gomi nodded as well.

  We walked out, climbed into the Rover, and drove away.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, buckling up.

  “Grocery shopping and then home,” he said, merging into the slow traffic of the Parade.

  “Clark is keeping Tess tonight for a reason.”

  “Roight.”

  I understood. “I don’t know if you need me to be around at the moment.” I looked at him. “I know what the envelope means.”

  His eyes never left the road. “You want to talk about it now?”

  “Yes, why not?” I insisted. “I’m not a patient person, Gabe. We’re not going to have a better time. It’s the feelings involved that rule—not the time.” I was having a hard time controlling such feelings, pushing, spilling out like a launched locomotive. I physically fought my emotions in an unmatched effort to restrain the surging pain. Sparks flared as I braked in the darkness of my chest.

  “Don’t keep from accepting because of me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I couldn’t bear the guilt. It would kill our love.”