As the Dawn Breaks

by Erin Noelle

  “It suits you, and good for the beach too.”

  My eyes are focused straight ahead, but I can feel his stare locked on me, which is doing nothing to help keep my emotions in check. “So where are we headed?”

  “My hotel? I’m staying at the Fountainbleu; we can order some room service and have some privacy to talk,” he suggests.

  I can’t help but giggle. “This whole plan seems awfully familiar,” I joke, “and I’m pretty sure I know where it leads too.”

  “Trystan, look at me,” he orders, his voice stern but gentle. Thankfully, I haven’t pulled out on the street yet, so I do as he asks, twisting to face him. “This will not end like last time. If you walk away again, it will be your choice alone, but if I have my way, we’ll be watching many more sunrises together. Understand?”

  Nodding, I suck my bottom lip in-between my teeth, resisting the overwhelming urge to pounce on him right here in the parking lot. God, this man is sexy, especially when he talks about sharing sunrises. “I understand, but I was really referring to the sex part,” I whisper hoarsely, my cheeks hot from blushing.

  A deep, belly laugh rumbles from Leo as his eyes glimmer with wicked delight. “Oh, yeah? Well, let’s talk first, and if you’re still interested in the sex part, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you wherever and whenever you’d like, beautiful.”

  Half an hour later, Leo and I are sitting cross-legged on his hotel bed, surrounded by plates of food he ordered from room service.

  “Eat,” he insists, motioning to the food. “You’ve been working all day and you look too skinny.”

  Laughing, I pick up a French fry and dip it into the ranch. “You’re just used to remembering me pregnant. This is my ‘normal’ size, silly.”

  “Well, whatever…you still need to eat,” he huffs.

  I nod and take another bite to make him happy. “All right, who’s going first with this catching up thing?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  He reaches out and grabs my foot, pulling it until my leg is resting across his lap. “I will. Unless you’re gonna tell me you’re involved with someone right now, which I hope isn’t the case, there’s nothing you can say to scare me away from pursuing this…us.” He runs his fingers through his dark hair nervously, eyeing me, waiting for my answer.

  “No one other than my baby girl, but she comes first, forever and always,” I declare firmly. “Nothing will ever change that.”

  “I wouldn’t expect it to be any other way, Trystan. I’m sure you’re an amazing mom, and I can’t wait to see you with her.” He glances over at the clock and sighs. “I know it’s getting late, so if you get tired, let me know. There’s no way I can cover thirty-five years tonight, because eventually, I want to tell you everything about me. I don’t want to hide anything, but tonight, I need to tell you the important stuff to…to make sure it doesn’t change the way you feel about me, whatever that is right now.”

  He blows out a long breath. “I’m not even sure where to start. I’ve thought about this all day, since I saw you in the elevator, and now it feels like a chaotic mess of fragmented thoughts—”

  “How about from the beginning? Hit the highlights, whatever parts you feel like I need to know.” I lean back into the fluffy down pillows, focusing all my attention on him.

  Lazily brushing his fingertips up and down my calf, his lips pressed in a tight line, he begins to talk. “Right, so you know I was born in Italy; my momma and I moved to the states when I was two and she bounced around from job to job for a little while. Then, she was referred to this couple as a live-in housekeeper. He was a big time pro football player, and his wife was some New England socialite.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Anyway, we moved into the small house out by their pool, which was a huge upgrade from the shithole apartment we lived in. Mama really hit it off with the wife, Stephanie, and we ended up staying there. Robert was never really around, always training and traveling, so it wasn’t too bad. I kinda grew up with two moms.” He pauses and looks at me, making sure I’m still with him. I nod and smile, urging him to continue.

  “Eat more.” He picks up the cheeseburger and holds it up to my mouth, expecting me to take a bite. I comply. “When I was eight, they had a daughter, Katrina,” he lifts his brow, “the girl I walked down the aisle the day I met you.”

  “Oh, right! I thought the name sounded familiar.”

  The tender strokes on my leg now have a bit more pressure behind them. “Katrina and I had a special relationship growing up. She was like my little sister, but so much more. I had this built-in need to protect her at all times, from everyone, including herself. I loved her as much as I loved my mama. I would’ve done anything for her.”

  Leo’s eyes drop, glued to the ministrations of his hand on my foot, obviously not wanting to look at me. “One day, Stephanie and Katie-bug came home early from a trip, ‘cause Katrina had gotten sick. They walked in on her dad with another woman.”

  “Oh my God, how terrible!” I exclaim.

  “That’s not even close to the worst of it.” He sits up straight; his hands stop moving. “Robert Green was a dick to his wife all the time, yelling at her, cheating on her, neglecting her, and he sucked as a father too. He thought money could keep them happy, I guess.”

  Drawing his somber eyes up to mine, the grave expression etched on his face is enough to break my heart. “He shot his wife in cold blood, claimed he thought she was an intruder, but Katrina watched him do it. Then, as he turned the gun on her, I walked in the house and grabbed up Katrina, getting her away from him as quickly as possible.”

  Chill bumps cover my skin at his revelation, shuddering at the horrifying thought of what they’d been through.

  “He ended up getting cleared of the charges. Iit’s amazing what fame and money can do for you,” he snarls, “and even got elected Governor of New York.”

  When he says that, I immediately know who he is talking about. I clearly recall the news reports from a few years ago of Governor Green committing suicide and the letter he left behind, admitting his guilt over his wife’s murder. It was on every news station for a week straight. ”Oh shit,” I mumble. “I remember this.”

  Lifting his hands up, he drops his face into his palms and shakes his head. Soothingly, I rest my hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and pulls away. “Don’t.” I retract my arm quickly, feelings a little hurt, but still understanding this must be a very emotional subject for him.

  “You don’t understand, Trystan,” he mumbles, his face still buried. “Katrina lost it after that. It took my full attention to keep her out of trouble, and even then, I still failed sometimes.”

  “Leo, don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure you did everything you could. Ultimately, she wasn’t your responsibility.”

  He peeks over the top of his fingers and groans. “But she was. I loved her, promised I’d take care of her, and got so wrapped up in giving her whatever she wanted I became an enabler, drowning in an unrequited love.”

  “Oh, Leo.” I feel his devastation; I know what it feels like to give someone your everything and not get it in return. “How could she not love you?” I whisper.

  Tears well up in his eyes. “She did...she does...just in a different way. I won’t lie to you, Trys; we were together intimately for a long time, even after I knew she didn’t love me the same way.” He shrugs his broad shoulders, his vulnerability evident in the wetness on his cheeks. “I took whatever she gave me.”

  For a brief moment, I really dislike Katrina for hurting this lovable man sitting in front of me, for toying with him for so many years, but then I remember the childhood she had, and know it’s impossible for me to pass judgment.

  “I still haven’t gotten to the worst part,” he croaks, wiping his face with the back of his hands. Oh fuck. “Several years ago, Katrina met Lucca, and instantly, I knew he was her one, the one who could light up her face like I never could. Out of respect for him, her, and what they had, I backed off; I tru
ly wanted her to be happy more than anything else. She deserved that.”

  With an exaggerated inhale, he takes my small hands into his large ones, his eyes already pleading, but I’m not sure for what. “Trystan, I don’t expect you to understand this, but I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me for what I did. If I could do it all over, I wouldn’t make the same decision again. At that time in my life, I was willing to sacrifice everything for her, because I was in lo—” he clears his throat, “I was infatuated with her.”

  “What are you talking about, Leo?” I demand. I’ve got no idea what he’s about to say, but the empty feeling growing in my gut tells me it can’t be good.

  “I discovered Katrina was going to kill her father; she was going to poison him. Even after so many years, she felt she needed to avenge her mom’s death and the life he took from her.” A long pause. “I stopped her from going through with it by killing him myself before she could. I shot Robert Green in the head and made it look like a suicide. I murdered him in cold-blood.”

  murderer…

  Murderer…

  MURDERER…

  The word bounces around in my head—a single word echoing so loud I wonder if she can hear it too.

  I sit and wait for her to react, to talk, to do something. What I’m expecting, I’m not exactly sure, but if she stands up and walks out of the room, never looking back, I won’t be surprised in the least bit.

  Studying her face—each clench of her jaw, every blink of her lashes—I watch as Trystan processes the information I’ve just revealed to her, knowing I’ve laid it all out there. If she can overlook this, if she stays, maybe I’m not crazy for thinking you really can fall in love with someone in a couple of days.

  Maybe she’s thought about me every day since that day, like I have her.

  And maybe, just maybe, she’s crazy enough to be in love with me too.

  More silence. She hasn’t pulled her leg out of my lap, so that’s a good sign. I think.

  “Trystan, please say something,” I plead, “anything, even if it’s to tell me you think I’m a despicable human being and you can’t stand the sight of me. I need to hear you talk.”

  She tilts her head inquisitively. “When did you get your lion tattoo?”

  Confused, I glance down at my chest, where my ink is currently covered by my t-shirt, and look back up at her. “Ummm, a couple of years ago, not long before I met you.”

  “Why did you get it?”

  “As a reminder,” I answer lowly, understanding where she’s going with this line of questioning, “a reminder of when I acted without a conscience.”

  “That day at the beach, do you remember what you said when I told you I didn’t ever think you could act like a wild beast?” Her emerald eyes narrow, challenging me to dig deep into my soul.

  “Yeah, I said, ‘I hope I never am again.’”

  “You still hope for that?”

  “No,” I answer matter-of-factly, “I know I’ll never be that again. I’m truly sorry for what I did. No matter how much I despised him, it wasn’t my place to decide whether or not he lived, and I know I’ll have to answer for my actions when my time comes.”

  She smiles—a genuine, heartfelt smile.

  “Now, tell me why you’re in Miami,” she laughs softly, “and don’t tell me it’s because you came back for me, or you would’ve been back a long time ago.”

  God, this woman is smart.

  I stare straight into her eyes, telling her the complete truth, hoping she can see the sincerity in my words. “Katrina and Lucca were in a boating accident a few days ago. They were both injured pretty badly, and she’s still unconscious in ICU as of the last visitation session. My running into you on the elevator was nothing other than fate butting into my life again, kinda like you being the bartender at her wedding.”

  “You believe in fate?” she interjects.

  “Absolutely.” My hands are back on her leg resting in my lap, needing the physical connection with her. “In my thirty-plus years, no one has had the effect on my life that you had in less than two days, including Katrina. Ever since that day, you consume my thoughts. I wake up every morning to watch the sunrise, I go on photography gigs and find myself taking pictures of pregnant women and moms with kids, and I haven’t slept with another woman since you, but fuck if I haven’t jacked off to your memory daily.”

  The apples of her cheeks glow pink and I feel her legs clench together as I continue, “I never came back for you, because I knew I couldn’t stay here without risking possible inquiry from officials, and I couldn’t very well ask you to move to Croatia with me, some stranger you’ve known a minute.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I’m willing to risk it all for a chance—a chance at my happiness. Until I met you, I never lived for me, never thought I deserved to be happy, but you make me want that.” I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth, kissing her palm. “Trys, I’m not stupid enough to think we can declare our love for each other—we spent one night together two years ago—but I’m finally smart enough to admit I love myself enough to pursue the things in life I want.”

  “What do you want now?” she whispers timidly, her earlier assertiveness backing down a bit.

  “You.”

  “It’s not going to be easy, you know. I have a kid, a job, school…a bunch of shit standing in the way.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love your daughter if she’s anything like you, and I can work with school. We’re gonna do something about the job though.” I lift up on my knees, towering over her tiny frame. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. I want this. I want you.”

  I hover over her, a playful smirk now tugging at my mouth, my dick growing harder by the minute as my eyes sweep up and down her body that’s now flat on the bed. I’m not sure how we went from me admitting to murder, to this in the same conversation, but part of me feels like I need to prove my sincerity to her, to physically remind her what it was like when we were together.

  “Prove it,” she dares me.

  So I do.

  Plates of food go flying from the bed. I don’t give two fucks. The only thing I can think about right now is this incredible woman lying in front of me, who makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and how I need to prove how much I want her, now and forever.

  In one sweeping motion, my shirt is off, tossed aside, and I’m grasping at the hem of her blouse, nudging it upwards. She raises up off the bed for me to pull it the rest of the way off as I also unclasp her bra, freeing her glorious breasts. Lying back down, she lifts her ass as I tug her pants down over her hips, leaving her only in a black lace thong.

  My jeans soon join the rest of our clothes on the floor.

  “I need to taste you, Trystan,” I grumble in her ear, “need your beauty in my mouth.”

  She mewls her approval as her fingers tangle in my hair. As I languidly travel down the length of her body, sporadically kissing and nipping her soft, succulent skin, paying special attention to her perked, rosy nipples and cute little belly button, I’m greeted by the heady scent of her arousal as I reach my desired destination.

  My hands settle on her inner thighs, spreading her open as hunger washes over me. Propped up on her elbows, she watches my every movement through lust-weighted lids, which turns me on even more. My first kiss is humble, my lips brushing across her already glistening heat. She sighs longingly in response as I seek to prove my worth, the tip of my tongue navigating between her soft petals, reacquainting myself with her invigorating sex.

  I feel her shiver against me, her thighs quivering as they clench, squeezing my head and then opening again as I separate her swollen pink lips with my curled tongue. I lap up her sweet juices, mindful of the way her spine arches, her abs rise, and her chest pulsates with each accelerated breath.

  Another whimper reaches my greedy ears, punctuated by a swift inhale as my lips swirl around her pebbled clit, my tongue worshipping, fluttering like a butterfly’s wings,
followed by forceful swipes across her most sensitive of areas. She lifts her thighs over my shoulders, ankles locking behind my neck and heels pressing into my upper back as her hips dance a sultry number against my rhythmic tongue.

  “Fuck, Leo,” she cries, her eyes still glued to where our bodies meet. ”More…please.”

  Obliging her request, I plunge my tongue inside her sizzling core, following her lead as her hips roll back and forth, grinding down hard on my mouth. I pull away slightly to catch my breath, still on my knees, my back uncoiling, and peer down at her, detecting the hint of something sensually animalistic in the depths of her eyes, carnal and untamed. My cock is throbbing in my boxers at the breathtaking sight of her, infinitely more beautiful than I ever remembered.

  “Trystan, baby,” I breathe, speaking a thousand words in just those two.

  Without hesitation, she sits up, hooks her fingers in my waistband, and slides my last remaining article of clothing down my thighs, releasing my steeled rod. Licking her full lips, she takes hold of my dick and begins softly stroking it with one hand, while the other twists and pinches her nipples. “Outside. Like the first time.” There’s an edge to her voice, a hint of command lurking.

  Brazenly, she grabs my hands, pulling me off the bed and out onto the balcony. Veiled in the late-night’s shadow, she giggles impishly as she grabs ahold of the railing overlooking the empty beach and endless waters, the epitome of seductive innocence. Lazily, I pepper kisses across the back of her neck and shoulders, giving us both a few minutes to soak it all in—the starlight canopy twinkling overhead, soft waves steadily rolling up onto the shore and out again, enticed by the inspiration of the moon, which illuminates a narrow line through the vast ocean.

  My hands drop to her hips, grasping them as handles as I slowly rub my cock up and down the swell of her ass, my nose nuzzling up under her ear. Leaning her head back onto my chest, she turns her face upwards so our gazes are locked on one another.