by A K August
I waited for his move, my arms at my side, shifting my weight so I would be ready and not fall over when he swooped down and claimed me. But he didn't.
Instead, I felt more than saw his frown wash over his body, just before he stepped away and walked out of the barn, leaving me standing there with all my confusion and pent up cravings.
CHAPTER TEN
ANTHONY
We were enjoying the warm evening air, silent moments intercut with short conversations peppering between us. I longed to touch her. Anywhere. I just needed the contact of us. I was doing it unconsciously at first. After the shower, we’d gotten dressed and she came out of her room in green jean shorts with a white camisole. One of the straps had fallen over her shoulder, and I tucked it back in place, my fingers grazing her skin. From there, it was reaching around for the pepper grinder, brushing against her back. My thigh resting against hers as we chopped vegetables. My foot sliding under the table until our calves were intertwined.
It was the under table leg action that made me pause and consciously acknowledge what I was doing and why. Why? I’d spent an hour wondering what about Katie had me craving more. Was it just great sex? It had been explosive and I wanted her again, but it was more than sex. Her laugh came out of nowhere and filled the room, hitting you in the chest and borrowing deep inside, tickling you for hours after hearing it. Her candidness and tenacity had me tied up in knots but pushed me forward. The fact those came from a delicious mouth I wanted to taste again and again didn’t hurt. It was all those things and more I had yet to identify. She was unlike other women I’d known, spirited, brilliant, take no shit, and she wanted me too.
Her skin flexed when I skimmed across her shoulders and she jumped when I tugged on her hair. We may have had sex just a few hours ago, but she was wound up as tight as I was and wanted me just as intensely.
I played out the scenarios for what would happen at work when this was over and my after-action report included that we’d slept together. I was going to come clean; I had to in order to stay on the right side of my beliefs. Fundamentally, I didn’t believe what we did was wrong. I wanted this woman, I had this woman, and she got in my heart. I wanted to get to know her more. I wanted this to continue for as long as it could. Maybe forever, if we were lucky. Yes, it was against FBI regulations and with just reasons. But when faced with the possibility of the love of your life slipping through your hands because of a technicality, it was worth the risk. And I thought she might be on the same page as I.
So I was as surprised as a priest with an empty offering plate after mass when she suddenly ran away with alarm stamped across her face. I went after her, of course. She didn’t know the farm well and it was getting dark. I didn’t know where she was going, but it was still my job to protect her, even if it was from garden gnomes or shadow puppets that hung out on the sides of the barns.
Why she was running irritated me, I didn’t want to believe she regretted the sex. She had no right to be angry with me or place some misbegotten blame on my lap. Although technically it would be my fault, I overstepped. I should have said no. I should have kept my distance.
When she tore into the barn, my surprise grew to curiosity. She seemed to have a destination in mind, but I couldn’t fathom what. I approached her cautiously, like a cat that just had her tail stepped on. Something spooked her and I wanted to know what got her riled up. Partly to calm her down and partly because she had me all twisted and needed confirmation that I hadn’t fucked this up.
She denied being spooked but stepped away from me all the same. I almost faltered with the idea that she really didn’t want anything to do with me. My stomach churned, anticipating rejection, but her voice shook, and her eyes roamed over my body like I was a high-end buffet she was going to devour but didn’t know where to start.
The edges of her shorts were gripped tightly in her hands; I could only hope in an effort to keep from reaching out to me. She was denying me information, denying me her touch, her trust. I wanted to shake it out of her or kiss her senseless until she writhed in my arms and tease her until she came clean. Pushed beyond reasoning, I crowded her, getting as close to her as I could with our clothes still on. I wanted to cup her face, to touch her. The urge stronger now than it had been earlier, stemming from the rampant frustration and desire coursing through my veins. She held back, leaned back. I did as well, even though it killed me. Behind my back, I could feel my fingernails digging into my wrists, but I held still. Her eyes tracked mine, her breathing ragged. Katie was my homing beacon and my cock stirred to life straining toward her. I knew if I leaned down I could kiss her, and if I kissed her, I’d forgive her anything and we’d end up on the floor in this barn completely entangled and thoroughly ravished.
But unlike earlier, Katie looked unsure. Her body pulsed as rapidly as mine, and part of her wanted to let it consume her, fill her. I could see it in her eyes. But another smaller part hesitated.
Yesterday I wouldn’t have recognized it, but I’d seen her give over to the rapture and welcome it, yearn for it, reach for it, and I wasn’t willing to settle for anything less. She could succumb to the temptation and write it off later, but that wouldn’t do for me. I wanted all of Katie willingly or none at all.
I could push her into an argument and lay our cards on the table, but the voice in my head told me I wouldn’t like the heated words Katie had to say. This conversation would happen, but when we were less charged and didn’t feel like caged animals on display.
Disappointment washed over me as I realized I had to walk away.
◆◆◆
I got back to the house and went straight to my room, leaning against the door until I heard Katie enter and the door to her room click softly closed. I cleaned up the kitchen before taking my post in the chair near the door; my weapon clipped securely to my side.
I could hear Katie rummaging around in her room before dousing the light and everything went quiet.
I had hours to contemplate the afternoon, the evening, and Katie’s panicked sprint to the barn. I had to back up further to see the whole picture and step away from myself to analyze it properly.
Once I did, it became apparent I’d forgotten my role as the protector, the observer who was present only to keep my protectee calm and safe. Instead, I’d gotten personal with Katie. I crossed the line and therefore blurred my vision. Katie’s life had been turned upside down. She was scared and confused, and while she wanted to return to her normal life, she almost couldn’t imagine how that would look when the dust settled. Everything was up in the air. She and I shared extraordinary chemistry I knew she wouldn’t deny, but nothing in her life was permanent right now. Therefore, how could she trust that this connection would last, when we lived day-by-day, ready to uproot at the first sign of trouble.
It made sense if Katie felt there was something deeper between us like I did, but she didn’t know what tomorrow or next week looked like, much less next year. How could she let herself feel anything deeply, even as much as she may want to?
This, of course, is the worst profile I’ve ever done, and I know it. It makes all sorts of assumptions about Katie that only benefit me. Assuming she feels what I feel, and assuming she would want to explore that, build on it. The opposite could be true. Maybe she just wanted a one-time deal. Her life was up in arms, nothing in her control and she needed a release. The sexual tension was there, ready and available for the taking, or she may not want anything more from me.
I slumped in my seat at the thought. I had to be fair and consider this, even as painful as it may be. Either way, a discussion was needed to clear the air. We had to work together through this crisis, and it wouldn’t do if we walked on eggshells around each other.
I pursed my lips and, with a deep sigh, thought about the best way to introduce the topic in the morning.
Turns out, I might not have to wait that long.
As with previous evenings, Katie ventured from her room for a sip of bourbon in front of the
window. I held off alerting her to my presence until some of the liquor settled in her bloodstream.
“A beautiful view, wouldn’t you say?” Even though I tried to speak softly, my voice echoed around the room and made her jump.
Spinning around, her hand went to her chest. “You surprised me!”
“I’ve surprised you all evening it would appear.” I calmly replied.
I hoped she would view my statement as an opening, but she didn’t respond.
“We should talk about where we stand with each other.” Katie had been direct with me, so I figured she’d respond best if I returned the favor.
She nodded, then gulped down the rest of her drink and refilled her glass. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
She was nervous, which didn’t sit well with me. The Katie I had come to know was decisive and persistent in what she wanted. I took a deep breath not liking how the conversation began and prepared myself to accept whatever Katie wanted to do.
KATIE
The spicy caramel of the bourbon settled in my stomach, calming my nerves. Anthony was right, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have this conversation now. I hadn’t had time to process my feelings. Actually, that’s not true. I was avoiding it.
After Anthony left me in the barn, I berated myself for several reasons. First, for acting like I was twelve and stomping away. Then like a rebellious sixteen-year-old who’s just stupid and stubborn enough to play games with the heart. Finally, the icing on the cake, regressing to when I was twenty-two, naïve about love when I believed the person you desire instinctively knows what you want. I scoffed at my younger self’s idiocy.
I knew better on all counts. I’d grown past that bullshit and found the direct approach with clear communication never failed me. So why did I behave so badly? On top of how crappy I felt after Anthony left the barn, I was embarrassed, convinced he would brand me as immature, and rightly so.
I slunk back to my room, thankful I didn’t have to face him in the house and planned to come up with an apology and explanation for my actions that I could share with him in the morning, hopefully putting this mess behind us. Of course, that meant I also had to figure out what I wanted. In addition to the confusion when Anthony walked away, pain ripped through my chest, like he was taking my heart with him.
It was there, in front of me. This guy was special, made me feel special, hell he was ready to take a bullet for me if necessary. Looking back, the men in my past were more likely to use me as a shield rather than risk their own welfare. It was a new feeling, but one I liked if I allowed myself. I just didn’t know what to do about it.
Instead of unpacking all of that and addressing these questions, I procrastinated. Mom said I was a gifted procrastinator. I could come up with dozens of things to spend my time and attention on other than the task that I needed to address. The Feng Shui in the bedroom was off, so I rearranged it, moving the bed out of the path of the door and repositioning the floor mirror to reflect any evil spirits that might want to enter. That also required the dresser to shift to the other wall.
These changes exposed dust bunnies that had hidden in the dark corners, so I fished out some cleaner from under the bathroom sink and set about tidying up. Since the cleaners were out, I went ahead and gave the bathroom a once over as well—the bathroom was spotless before I arrived, so it didn’t need it but with the cleaners already in my hands….
I took advantage of the new layout of the room to do yoga on the area rug in front of the mirror.
Inventory of my clothing and toiletries revealed my dental floss was low, and I made a note to get more in the next week or so.
I repainted my toenails and whitened my teeth.
I rubbed in an extra layer of lotion; you can never be too moist—got that from Sally in Coupling.
Finally, I lie down and shut off the light, determined to use the quiet time to think. Thirty minutes later, I gave up and went for a drink in the kitchen.
Now Anthony wanted to talk, and I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, he started.
“For the record, I don’t regret having sex with you, Katie. It was terrific and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it again. But I shouldn’t have crossed that line. It’s made things confusing for you, and for that, I apologize.”
I stood there and gulped; first air then a swig of the bourbon. Of all the things he could’ve led with that was a pretty darn good start.
“Regardless, we are going to be stuck together for a while and we need to be able to speak candidly and trust each other. I don’t like that you feel you can’t talk to me now. You can tell me anything. Tell me you regret it; tell me you loved it too; tell me it was bad; tell me we need to stay friends. Whatever it is, the only thing I ask is that we talk. We can figure it out together, and I respect whatever you want to do from here.”
Wow. He just told me I was fantastic; he wanted to have sex with me again but would do whatever I wanted.
You should jump his bones. Holmes, on my shoulder, had only one thing on his mind. What? You loved it. You can’t deny it. And you want him too.
Watson was always rational. Do you want it? Do you really? You are going through an incredibly emotional and stressful time. You can’t possibly think clearly and know what you want or need. It’s best to stop now while you can still work with him to get you out of this bind.
Yes, I named my devil and angel Holmes and Watson. Makes sense to me. You can’t have one without the other. They balance each other out. Without Watson, Holmes would have been too crazy to be taken seriously. And without Holmes, Watson would’ve had a very dull doctor’s practice, never stretching himself scientifically. Plus, it’s way more interesting having a three-way conversation with Holmes and Watson than the Devil and Angel. The devil and angel are too black and white. Life is not like that. You need a little gray.
Speaking of gray, Anthony looked outstanding in that gray Henley, stretching ever so slightly over his biceps and hugging the six-pack I knew resided underneath.
OMG, Nelly! As much as Watson made sense and I should avoid getting more personal, I didn’t know if I could handle abstaining from that for the indefinite future. Can I have a physical relationship with Anthony without getting emotionally involved?
Of course! Chimed Holmes. Its just mind over matter.
Watson was more pragmatic, as usual. Just the fact that you’re asking the question should give you the answer.
Dammit! Watson, why do you always have to make sense?
Perhaps you’re protesting too much. Maybe its time you stop thinking about if he’ll hold you back and more about how he’ll lift you up. Sharing a life could be a good thing.
Wow, Watson relenting. Something to consider.
Holmes, never without sensitivity, had to get the last word. Besides, now’s a perfect testing ground – away from the real world, if it’s too much or goes wonky, you can dump him when you get home.
Not the mature attitude I would prefer to use in having this conversation, but I can’t hide the truth, it’s my M.O.
Holmes is right; as soon as things get complicated, I am not shy about shutting it down. That is probably what will happen with Anthony.
Turning my attention away from my unconventional shoulder sidebar, I first owed Anthony an apology.
“Anthony, thank you. Thank you for a wonderful afternoon. It was great. And thank you for being open to all possibilities moving forward. I’m sorry I freaked out. That’s what that was if you didn’t guess that already.” I grimaced in a light-hearted way, which earned me a chuckle from Anthony.
Emboldened, I continued. “I freaked out because it was good. So good, I started thinking about what could be beyond… beyond this.” I stressed the last word and circled my hand around the room, hopefully conveying to Anthony my meaning without having to speak of the person or persons who wanted me dead.
Anthony nodded in assent, and I took a moment to catch my breath, which seemed to be in a race with my hea
rt, at odds with each other when they were bound together, creating a bit of chaos that I needed to rein in.
“I honestly don’t know if what I’m feeling is because of the situation or because we have a connection and that makes me wary of continuing anything with you until I can answer that question.”
I paused again and tried to read Anthony, but like a good agent, he masked his expressions. It was probably for the better; I needed to decide what I was willing to do and not react to what he may want.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANTHONY
I put it out there. I wanted Katie but would follow her lead. I schooled my expressions because I wasn't sure my heart could handle it when she told me to back off. Meanwhile, my body warred with my brain, jolting when Katie agreed that the sex was great for her too. I held back a smile, maintained full control until she admitted to freaking out. Yeah, I kind of figured she freaked out, but it was a boon to know it was because she was feeling this too.
And she was absolutely correct that relationships based on intense circumstances never last. I saw Speed. We all wanted Jack and Annie to work, but the sequel burst that bubble.
What if she was right? Was I so consumed by these feelings that I didn't consider the extreme nature of our connection? As an agent, I trained to manage adrenaline hits and the uncertainty of the future, but I'd crossed over to Katie's side just by getting involved. I hadn't recovered from my last assignment, where I was emotionally excluded from everyone to being thrown into a protective detail with Katie. You can't help but get intimate when you are sharing a space for an extended time. Could I be projecting my loneliness and desires onto Katie simply because she was here?
