I was never sure how to begin, how to tell him he could touch me. So, I was glad for Matteo’s interruption.
“Undress her.” he coaxed from the corner in a jagged whisper. From the darkness, he watched as Alika pulled off my little flowered dress and tossed it behind him aimlessly, exposing my bare breasts and supple pussy, now eager with anticipation. I lifted Alika’s shirt revealing his dark, chiseled chest against the slight light. He tugged at his shorts and slid them to the floor, his erect dick now free from its cage.
Silently, he lifted me with one arm onto the king-sized bed. I could feel Matteo’s eyes burning into us from across the room. Alika kissed my neck slowly, tickling the edges of my right lobe with his tongue, running his large rough hands through my hair. He smelled of ginger and sandalwood, raw and sweet. I arched my back, showing pleasure as my soft hands grazed his firm, flexing back.
Matteo moved to the side of the bed, naked and hard. I knew what he wanted, what he’d fantasized about.
He pulled me up, kissing me coarsely as he whispered in my ear. “I’ll let him borrow you; then you show him who you belong to.”
I shuddered at his words, ready to be in the moment. Immediately, I bent down to push my full lips around the head of his penis, looking up into the darkness, trying to see his face as I avoided gagging on his length. From behind, Alika lifted my plush, round ass, sliding his firm cock inside my nest, the pressure causing me to jump and moan. I continued, crying out on Matteo’s throbbing cock as Alika set an erratic rhythm of movement.
“Si bella, let him take you,” Matteo sighed, holding my hair back as I sucked. As Matteo began to tense, they switched places—him now behind me, watching as I conquered Alika.
Matteo increased speed and dove deeper inside of me, pushing me towards Alika with a force I couldn’t keep up with. Rough thrusting forced my head against Alika’s core, and my lips in erratic disarray against his cock. Suddenly, Alika tightened his strong legs. I moaned out, letting him savor the tremor of heat as he came, emptying into my mouth like a fountain of sweet sugar.
Matteo reached out, gathering my long blonde hair into a bunch, pulling gently as his skin slapped mine. “You sucked him so hard; he couldn’t help it.”
“I’m going to finish,” I yelled, tensing my thighs and pushing harder into his lunge. Alika watched from the sidelines as Matteo took me to war, each of us writhing and bouncing with tension until we detonated, sending shrapnel flying into each other’s core. There was an energy between us, something we couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the hot, adventurous sex, or perhaps we were meant to be. Lost souls that had finally found the other. Either way, once Alika had been dismissed, my mind was on Daniel, convincing myself that he had to be the one who took the photo. It was then that I realized, not even the bucket list would rid me of this guilt. I had to tell Matteo; he needed to know.
Chapter Nineteen
Hawaiian sunrises are like gorgeous, golden flames rising from the dark red dirt. Five days had passed since I heard from the blackmailer. Three since Alika, two since I chickened out of telling the truth, and one since I got another email. This one, a reminder, and another photo. This time in San Francisco. A clear shot of Matteo humping me from behind as I beat against the window for all the world to see. What had we been thinking? In the moment, it all made sense. We were far enough away; he had everyone checked out. No one knew we were up there. Except they did. They knew everything. And they had photos to prove it. Reeling through thoughts, I considered the idea that it could have been a stranger. Someone neither of us had met — just a person who happened to have high resolution, exceptional zoom camera, ready and waiting. Then, I thought of Daniel. He could have followed us to San Francisco that night we left his house. He was already mad from our barging in.
“Sea turtles, or the gardens today? Maybe both?” Matteo asked, flipping through a guidebook left behind by the owner.
“I’m thinking both. We probably have time. It’s still early.” Busy sounded good on all accounts. Anything to keep my mind off what I was or wasn’t doing tomorrow at 2 PM local time.
“Sea turtles first then,” he said, throwing on his black board shorts.
A yacht was waiting for us offshore near town. Though this yacht was a bit larger, it was a carbon copy of the one in Tahoe. Wooden slats on white furnishings. Classic and contemporary. A hired captain operated the boat along the rugged coastline. High cliffs, sea caves, and lush green valleys gave way to graceful waterfalls as they fell into the ocean below. Secret beaches outstretched in tiny bays as though they were made for a movie.
Matteo and I stood at the front of the boat—his body holding me in place with his hands outstretched on the rails. The open water had more fury than we’d expected on such a peaceful day. Soon, we found our way to a calmer area about two hundred feet offshore. There the captain docked, offering us gear to jump in.
“I’ve never, I don’t know. I’ve never swam in the ocean.” I sat on the edge of the boat, like a child afraid of the deep end. Matteo, already swimming amid sea life.
“I see a turtle!” he yelled, pointing to a beautiful green shell calmly swimming by. “You don’t want to miss this.” So, as with everything we did together, I jumped in headfirst, nervously living the life of adventure I’d wanted for so long. The water was colder than I thought it would be, and the shock of not having anything to support my flippers left me immediately panicked.
“Throw her a floaty, would you?” he shouted to the captain, holding me up in the water until the noodle of foam arrived.
From there, I enjoyed the trip much more, floating on top of the water, looking down into the alien world below through snorkel gear. We swam side by side, holding hands to keep from separating with the current. Below us bright, yellow fish with blue stripes, blue fish with pink tiger-striped tails and green lips, and brown spotted octopus. All magnificently swirling around us in no pattern as the waves carried them to different coral formations. To our side, a sea turtle, much larger than I was expecting. Maybe four feet long… though from here, he looked enormous. He placidly swam beside us, as curious as we were—until he found something of better interest and swam off. We swam for the afternoon, taking in the beauty of the underwater world, then climbed back onto the ship for lunch and a quick change, before going to the gardens.
“Have I told you how happy I am?” Matteo gushed, wrapping me into his arms against the whirling wind.
I looked up at him in a fixed gaze while biting at my lip, “You have, and I never want anything to change between us.”
“Change will always happen; let’s just promise to change together.”
“Promise? That’s a big word. A mystical power that makes or breaks everything.” I said, silently thinking of the blackmail situation.
“If we understand the promises we’re making, we’re good,” he said, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Why are you crying, my Bella?”
I shrugged my shoulders, looking away from his kind face, “I’m just so happy. I don’t—I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
He pulled me in, wrapping me like a present in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, except into these gardens.” He smiled, lifting my chin, bending down into a kiss.
Inside the gates of the garden sat paradise within paradise. Towering rainforest trees curved and tangled with bronze mermaid statues amid swaying bamboo. Bright pink flowers sat atop dark, green lily pads in a small taro pond. To the side, giant fig trees with roots the height of a small child. Endangered birds swooped into the fern and moss-draped canyons, giving way to pristine sandy beaches. Standing along the hillside was a row of cacao trees with a guide, offering us a taste of the white pulped fruit inside the pod. We reluctantly took a bit of the sweet, tangy mush—letting the slightly floral flavor develop on our tongues. Nothing at all like chocolate, but exotic and delicious on its own.
That’s what I loved about this adventure. We were in a garden on a
remote island eating cacao pulp from a tree, snorkeling with sea turtles we could reach out and touch, and wandering through ancient Rome on the stones of ruins—breathing in the dust of centuries before. All while holding hands.
Matteo looked at me, his cheeks turned up in the corners, a tiny dimple forming that I hadn’t noticed before. “I never did this stuff before you. It was business meetings and hotel rooms. Maybe a lazy day at the pool. Never this.”
I gazed back, wanting to hold the interest in his eyes forever, begging my soul to tell him everything. Willing his lips to respond in chorus—telling me he knew about the emails, and he didn’t blame me.
The sunset came too soon, bringing with it bright golden swirls, with magenta aftershocks. We sat in its brilliance, eating luau rice and fresh pineapple, as we listened to an older Hawaiian woman sing while playing a wood-carved ukulele. Matteo put his arm around my back, tickling at my shoulder slowly beside the strap of my flowered sundress. Standing, he reached back for my hands as though he wanted to dance. I followed his movement to the front of the table onto a small patch of grass that stood in front of the singer. With one arm against my hip and the other in my hand, he began to sway with the music, whispering the words softly in my ear.
“Love is touch, touch is love, love is reaching…” The melody played hauntingly, slow and sweet. “This was my parent’s song. Dad would put this on the player and grab Mom from whatever room she was in, and they’d dance. Dramatic, terrible dances. As though they were Fred Aster and Ginger Rodgers before they’d learned to dance. It’s one of my favorite memories.” I listened carefully, trying to figure out the name.
“It’s John Lennon. Love, an old one.” He said, spinning me like a ballerina in the short grass.
“I always imagined that’s what marriage would be—dancing barefoot in the kitchen, with kids tugging at you.”
“It will be,” he said, dropping the words flatly.
I laid my head against his chest content for a moment that he’d found someone I hadn’t met yet, hidden behind my layers.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up the following morning with a blaring headache. Stress was eating me alive — every detail of the day a diversion to what Matteo actually thought was happening. A white cabana had been set up with a large flat sun lounger. On the sides, flowing white curtains blowing in the wind. We laid together and enjoyed fruity sangria from oversized wine glasses. Though as I looked in his direction, a ball began to grow in my throat.
“Have you heard from the police?” I asked, as though somehow saying this would also make me a liar.
“I have. The restraining order is set. Shouldn’t be bothered by him again.”
Unsatisfied with his answer, I began fidgeting at the seam in the lounger, trying to read his expressions.
“Right, but do they think all the notes were from him?”
He took another sip of sangria and smiled. “Yeah… who else? Unless you’ve got some secret life, I don’t know of.”
I hadn’t had a secret life. In fact, I had no secrets until last week. He was so cavalier, sure it was Daniel, which meant he’d probably think the emails were from Daniel too. The wavering was driving me crazy, but Matteo was right, who else even knew my name? We hadn’t gone public with our relationship, and no one would be out to get good boy Matteo De Luca.
The more I said it, the more I believed it. And the more I believed it, the easier it got to convince myself that disarming the system was a harmless act. If it wasn’t Daniel, then the pictures didn’t surface. Sure, he may lose some horses, but the images were what ruined his reputation. If it were Daniel, then he would never know if the alarms were disarmed, and nothing would happen, as it was all just smoke. A reason to push between us. I suppose Daniel could show the photos either way, but if it got back to Matteo that he took them, he had to know Matteo would destroy him. It didn’t add up.
“Let’s go for a swim,” Matteo offered, slipping his tan, angular body off the lounger. His nose scrunched in the sun; despite the aviators, he’d slipped down over his eyes.
“Just a short dip,” I relented, trying to form a relaxed smile—sixty minutes until 1:55.
At the shore, the water was warm and comforting, a clear, salt spa filled with tiny silver fish that swam in large schools and nibbled at your toes. I sank in, letting the water cover my shoulders, then my neck and head before popping back up again, desperately trying to look like a mermaid as I flipped my long, wet hair back.
Awkwardly, I pushed the tangled mess of my face. “I guess that only works in the movies.”
Matteo laughed, attempting the move himself. “I don’t know; I think I got it down. Maybe you just need more practice.” His laugh was like innocence floating in a bubble. Lively and free. Unashamed to be whole.
I splashed the water playfully towards him, ignoring the ball of anxiety in my stomach, “Your confidence does speak for itself, now doesn’t it?”
Reaching out, he grabbed my wrists, stopping them in motion, “Dangerous girl!”
I squirmed, trying to get away, lightheartedly kicking back, thrashing in the water, accidentally knocking his sunglasses off as I twisted. He pulled me into his chest, my buoyant breasts bouncing against his hard stomach, my lungs gasping for air as I giggled.
His dark eyes met with mine in a spirited exuberance that made me feel safe and cared for — reminding me of childhood simplicity and fourth of July fireworks on a hot summer night. He had begun to feel like home.
One thirty-four quickly became 1:50. I had to get his phone, but nerves stoned me immobile on the lounger as I listened to Matteo talk in a fog. I glanced down at my watch, 1:52. I really had to get his phone.
“I left my cell in the house, can I borrow yours for a sec?” I squeaked, assuming he would think the worst.
He turned towards me, narrowing his eyes lightheartedly, “I don’t know… can I trust you?”
“Of course!” I chocked, biting at my lip. “Why would—”
“I’m kidding Bella, yes.” He smiled, pushing his index finger against the sensor before handing over the holiest of grails.
Guilt choked me, splitting words and time into fragments I could no longer comprehend. “Thanks!”
With shaking hands and a racing heart, I clicked the security app. The question: Name of your first pet? 1:54.
Pegasus. I guessed. Hoping to god, everything he’d ever named was Pegasus. Fail. One more attempt. 1:55.
I turned to him, feverishly rambling, trying not to sound obvious. “What was the name of your first pet? Mine was Pica; she was an Australian Shepard.”
Darting a strange look in my direction, he answered, “Cesar, a German Shepard. He helped guard the barn. Why?”
“In… ter… est… ing…” I let the word drag out as I typed, trying to think of a reason to have asked the question so abruptly. “This online quiz says that if you named your pet something with letter C your—failed?”
“Failed?” Matteo replied, wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
“No. sorry! It means your cool.” I knew full well how lame the answer was but was too distracted to care. Cesar had failed. 1:56.
“What are you so into over there? I feel like I’m missing out,” he asked, moving his shirtless body to my side.
Why would Cesar fail if that was the name of his first pet? Suddenly feeling ridiculous for trying to hack his security, I erased the history of my darkness, quickly shuffled to the news, and handed back his phone.
“Oh, nothing. Just news on the mainland. Sick of it all. Shouldn’t have looked. I’m done now anyway.” Nervous energy bit at every word as he glanced down at his cell.
“That’s weird,” he said, looking down at this phone, “I just got an alert that between 1:55 and 1:56, there were two failed attempts to disarm security on the ranch. Via my phone.”
Every inch of my skin crawled with anxiety. Dark red blood rushed to my chest, flipping my
heart in circles, as I choked back a thick round ball growing in my throat.
“And you had my phone during that exact time and also asked me the security question. I said Cesar because that was my first pet. But I put my first horse as the alarm code.” His body had shut down, unsure of how to respond. Shock taking over as I watched his eyebrows begin to twitch.
I opened my mouth, trying to console him. “I can explain. It’s not what it looks like. I have a really good—”
“Really? You have a good explanation?” he began, sarcastically intoning his words. “Because I can’t think of a reason to disarm someone’s alarm system without getting permission. I can’t think—”
“No, really. I got an email –”
“Oh, well if you got an email. Gather your things. I’ll call a car.” He stood to put back on his shirt.
I moved to meet him on the other side of the cabana, reaching out to touch his flexing arms as I spoke. “Matteo, you have to listen. I got an email and I worr—”
He flinched away from my touch. “I need space!”
Sand and grass scratched my toes as I plodded slowly towards the house. Matteo—walking in the opposite direction, now on his phone, probably calling me a car. I was angry at myself for not being upfront with him. I was selfish. It was a prophesy that I couldn’t escape. Piece by piece, I gathered my things and stuffed them into the hard-rolling case I’d brought along, checking my phone quickly for an email. Nothing, absolutely fucking nothing. No upset grumble about not getting into the ranch and no confirmation of showing our sexcapades to the world. Instead, junk mail and coupons for the cheap motel I was about to need desperately.
“Can I help you with your things, Ms. Hannah?” Erik asked, standing at the front door.
“No, I’ll get it. Thanks.” Tears continued to fall over my rosy cheeks as I lifted the case into the back of the Jeep, soundlessly hoping Matteo would come running, asking me to explain. Instead, silence. Silence and the wind, echoing into the canyons where my brain should have been.
While They Watch Page 11