by Mia Wolf
Once inside, I go to the kitchen and look for the first-aid box, but can’t find it. Next, I check the bathroom, where I find it in the cabinet above the sink. I’m standing in her living room, constantly keeping an eye on the door. The sun has already set, and it’s getting dark inside, so I switch on the light to be able to see what I’m doing. I apply the antiseptic liquid which burns a little. The wound is still bleeding, so I wrap some gauze around it. I pick up the box and turn around when I see the familiar sheen of silver. I know the blade that’s aimed at me. Maya is standing with the dagger in her hand, a piercing look to her gaze. I raise my hands in defeat, this time not because of the weapon but because she looks breathtakingly beautiful. I know it’s stupid, but I’m bewitched, transfixed again like last night.
Chapter 10 - Maya
The moment I see the light on in the house, I reach for my reliable weapon. My legs tremble from fear, a confession I embarrassingly make to myself as I stealthily go around the house and jump in as quietly as air and with feline swiftness sans the shaking of my hand, which makes me worried that I might accidentally drop the dagger and give myself away. I manage to close in on the intruder, and when I recognize him, I’m relieved to see that it’s just Sebastian.
Though, is it ‘just’ Sebastian? Seeing his face makes my knees go weak instantly. My heart is pounding with a deafening thump, and I feel anxiety burning my insides; they singe in the aftermath of the threat passing away.
My quivering fingers finally let go of the blade, and it drops to the ground. I sink to the cold, wooden floor because my legs refuse to move any more. I cradle my head in my hands and breathe in and out like I do during my meditation practice, hoping that doing so will release me from the shackles of the crippling anxiety coursing through me. Inhale and exhale. I hold my hands, wrapping them around each other as they refuse to stop twitching. There’s a ringing in my entire body, and I can’t be bothered to care that Sebastian is standing in front of me, watching me come undone so completely. This is my house, and he’s the unwelcome guest here.
He crouches in front of me, and as his hand reaches for my shoulders, I pull away, raising a hand to stop him from coming any closer. I don’t need his help. I lift my head, and our eyes meet for a brief second. I can tell from the incredulous look on his face that in mine he sees fear.
After a few minutes pass and as my body slowly regains control of itself, I finally come to my senses.
“What are you doing in my house?” I ask Sebastian with gritted teeth, swallowing the anger. He’s taken aback by something and gulps hard as if he’s unable to breathe. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure,” he replies. He sounds sincere. I notice the gauze on his finger and the first-aid box on the counter behind him. There’s a white towel stained with blood in Sebastian’s hand.
“It’s rude to break into someone else’s house,” I say, then immediately realize the irony of that statement. Sebastian spares me the humiliation.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I give him an affirming nod.
Neither of us is in a shape to hold a conversation, so we pass each other fleeting glances as we both slowly pull out of a battered state. There’s that fire once again.
I breathe in and out, letting oxygen reach up to my brain and feel more like myself as I do. Sebastian does the same, and we’re both gasping and heaving, out of breath for very different reasons. When Sebastian gets back to his senses, he helps me up from the floor and into the chair at the kitchen counter. He doesn’t let go of my waist and stands close to me. In my half-awake state, I put my head on his chest, and he holds it with his non-injured hand. We stay like this for a while until I’m feeling a little better, until I realize that I’m very close to the body of a complete stranger.
I pull away and look up at Sebastian, then at his bleeding hand and then his lips. I catch him staring at me, at my lips and then he swallows as if trying to hold himself back. I cock my head to the side, curious despite myself. If I keep looking at him, I might do something I’ll regret. I become aware of Sebastian’s hand on my waist, and while I’m staring at it, he ducks down and brings his face close to mine. There’s innocence in his eyes and intent in the rest of his body. Our lips collide before I can make sense of what’s happening and he hurls me up, pulling me to him. I snake my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up in his arms so I can cross my legs around his waist. There’s no going back now.
We’re kissing, tugging at each other’s lips, burning with so much hunger that it’s puzzling where it’s coming from. It feels like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Sebastian walks us to the bedroom without me having to ask and then puts me on the desk that’s against the wall there as his tongue finds its way into my mouth and I’m battling it; the touch, the sensation is careening me over the edge, and I feel my core tighten.
A sharp gasp leaves my mouth as Sebastian’s hand travels up my thigh and under my tunic. The bristling on my skin leaves me feeling hungry, and the trail of Sebastian’s touch makes me crave more. I don’t want him to stop touching me, I only want more.
I find the hem of his shirt while he’s pulling at my lower lips, and I tug at it to tell him to take it off. He complies, and my hands reach for his chest, instantly finding rock-hard muscles there. Everywhere I touch him, it’s toned muscle. I run my hands over his abs, and a gasp leaves my mouth, which brings a wicked smile to Sebastian’s face. I pull away from his kisses to marvel at his body for a moment.
“You like it that much?” he asks, putting both of his hands on either side of me, coming closer and closer to me, making my heart lurch. This guy is too good-looking.
“Yeah,” I say in a whisper, which turns into a moan when Sebastian kisses my neck.
“Let’s get you naked,” he breathes into my ear. He picks me up again and takes me to the bed. His hands pull my tunic up over my stomach, then up my chest, and then it’s off of me. Sebastian throws it on the ground and reaches for my bra hook, taking his time to kiss me again. We engage in a heated make-out session, skin touching skin, while he takes off my bra.
Sebastian pulls away, and it takes me a second to recover from the hungry kiss. But he already has my left breast in his mouth, licking the nipple and flicking it when he’s done. The sensation sends signals straight to my core, and I can feel myself getting wet.
I want Sebastian to hurry, but he takes his sweet time with my other breast, massaging the first one with his hand. The lower half of his body presses down on mine, and the pressure hits the right spot, making me arch my back.
“Sebastian,” I mouth, and he looks up at me as if I’m distracting him. I pull his head up to my face to kiss him, and my breasts dig into his chest as he finally puts all his weight on me. I reach for his jeans, and he doesn’t take long to throw them off. He sticks his finger behind the elastic band of my underwear and peels it off my legs. He takes a moment to find a packet of condoms in his jeans, and I wonder why he had one on him. Does he do this a lot? He slips the rubber protection onto his penis and returns his attention to me.
His hard member rests between my legs while I kiss him hard and relentlessly. I moan into his mouth at the hardness that’s digging into me, which makes him go even harder.
“Fuck,” he says. I don’t realize when he manages to slip inside of me; it comes as a surprise as my walls expand to accommodate him.
“Fuck,” I reply as he slowly pushes into me further. He stops kissing me and looks me square in the eyes while he thrusts that last bit of his erection inside me. I try not to lose eye contact even though it’s taking all of me not to dig my teeth into his shoulder from the pain. He would know that it’s my first time, wouldn’t he?
“You’re too tight, Maya,” he says, and that’s when understanding dawns on him. “Fuck, are you kidding me?” He looks scared. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“No,” I tell him, grabbing his neck. “I want to.”
Sebastian takes a moment to gather hims
elf, then pulls out of me, softly this time, and then slips in again. He’s a lot more careful now, not rough like the first time. He repeats the action once, twice, then again until his hard member is wet inside of me. Then he thrusts in faster and faster, going much deeper, and I hold onto him, feeling the bliss rise and crescendo.
He continues the rhythm for a while until we both seem to be close to the edge, which is when he starts thrusting in hard and deep. It’s almost too much for me, I almost lose any sense of self. It’s just him and me and the unending pleasure. I orgasm while he thrusts in a few more times in quick succession, going in with ease now until he finds his own release.
We’re both spent by the time it ends, and Sebastian pulls out of me and lies down on my side. He puts an arm under my head and pulls me close to his chest. I don’t know why he’s doing this.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m not scarring your memory of your first time,” he says and wraps his arms around me. “You were so good.”
Chapter 11 - Sebastian
When I wake up in the morning, I find myself wrapped around Maya. She moves under the sheets next to me, but I manage to slip out of bed without waking her up. I put on my clothes and stare out of the window, contemplating the events of last night. The sex was great, and I would’ve left it at that if I wasn’t so hungry. I feel like nothing else but her will satiate me. I know that hunger well; I know how it can take over you and how dangerous it is. Yet, when I look over at the woman who’s sleeping on the bed, looking so harmless, so peaceful, it’s hard to tell myself that she’s dangerous. She’s so tiny, I observe. She’s so beautiful. But somewhere deep down, I know that this is not about how she looks; it’s about what passes between us. It’s a conflagration of feelings, and if we’re not careful, it can do some serious damage.
The rational part of my brain takes a backseat when I think of last night again. I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. It’s like she took all the dead parts of me and brought them to life, back from the abyss. The total surrender, the total lack of control… it’s as much akin to art as it is to alcohol, and I don’t know which this will end in. Which end of the spectrum is closer? Will this take me to the sky, soaring like there’s no tomorrow, or will it put me in the gutter? I pass another longing glance in Maya’s direction, and she moves in her sleep like an infant. The difference between art and alcohol and this is that I won’t be going down alone.
I want to take a shower and start searching for a towel. I open a cupboard to find one, but instead of a towel, I find something else that attracts my attention. There’s an envelope there, and automatically, my eyes scan whom it is addressed to.
Maya Venne Ford.
“Are you looking for something?” Maya asks as my head is trying to wrap itself around what just happened. This cannot be true.
“No, I was just looking for a towel,” I force myself to say. “I thought I’d take a shower before I head out.” I don’t meet her eyes, I don’t look at her, nothing in me wants to face her right now. “You know what? Never mind.”
I storm out of the house, knowing full well that I’ve just left Maya alone after we shared an extremely intimate night. I don’t usually leave the women I sleep with alone in the morning until they give me the green light to go even if it’s just a one night stand. And here, I just left a woman I’m completely taken by alone in her bed after we made passionate love last night.
The thought troubles me more than I would like, but I don’t get any time to react or reassess because my phone rings in the pocket of my jeans, and there’s only one person in the world who has this number.
“You’re calling early,” I say, unable to take the edge off my voice. It’s Ash from Code Blue, and I know exactly why he’s calling.
“Daniel wants to talk to you,” he says, his own voice groggy because, of course, he was sleeping but had to do Daniel’s bidding right when he commanded it. There is no rest for the wicked.
“Tell Daniel that I’m quite swarmed at the moment with a business that he has asked me to do,” I reply while I’m putting still more distance between Maya and me, running with my tail between my legs.
“Right.” He doesn’t entertain me. “Eight o’clock tonight.” The line goes dead before I can protest, and I squeeze the phone in my hand, taking my anger out on it, hoping that if I just broke something now, it would somehow take the sting of being alive out of my chest.
I begrudgingly enter my house and get ready to make my way to Code Blue’s headquarters, which now that I know the location of the village on Google Maps, I find out is a six-hour drive away. Only Daniel is entitled to make me travel six hours back and forth even if it’s just to hear his two measly sentences on how I’m doing a lousy job of serving his retarded organization.
I call an Uber to get me to town, where I rent a car and reach Code Blue an hour ahead of time. I don’t go inside the building just yet. Instead, I prepare myself for the inhuman treatment that I’m likely to receive when I meet Daniel. Of course, he’s often all kind words and no physical harm. If Code Blue were a church, he would be the archbishop. He runs the place like it’s a church anyway. But it’s an organization that exists to harm people, so I fail to see how this is about serving anyone. The organization doesn’t serve anyone or anything except his ego, and I hate myself for not having the balls to say that to his face or to spit at his job and walk away a free man. Something I should’ve done that first day when he found me but obviously I couldn’t have. Daniel makes sure he’s trapping people who are in need; he gives them what he calls ‘a second chance at life.’ A second chance my ass.
The anger that I have harbored for Daniel for years comes up to my throat, as raw and palpable as it always feels. When I’m away from the headquarters, away on a mission, I pretend that the anger doesn’t exist, that it’s not there. But it always comes back and it when it does, it’s stronger than it was before. But today, it’s not just the anticipation of facing Daniel and his cruel ways that fuels the anger inside of me. Today, I’m choosing between Maya and Code Blue. I’ve had to choose Code Blue like my life depends on it. That’s the guilt I’m unable to shake.
That’s the guilt that’ll get you in trouble, says the small voice in my head.
When it’s time, I walk into the building. It strikes me, not for the first time, how much the place looks like an Episcopal church, with its high ceiling, pews standing in rows to sit on, and an altar-like platform at the end beyond which Daniel sits like a priest in the confessional. He shouldn’t be allowed to wear his black robe as if he’s doing the work of God, whatever he wants to tell himself.
I enter Daniel’s office; he’s seated in his chair, wearing the same black robe he always does and the same measured expression that he always carries. You really have to be close to him to see through that façade; I’m sure a lot of people think of him as a good-natured man. Few know what’s under the surface; few see through his made-up shadow.
“Sebastian Kurtz.” He says my name like he’s reading it off of a script for the first time in his life. Then there’s that derisive look that I have failed him even before I’ve had my say.
“Daniel.”
“How’s the mission looking, Sebastian?” he asks, but I know that he has already made up his mind about how it’s looking, and it’s not looking good enough for him.
Years ago, when I first started, I used to try to meet his expectations, to do more work and do it faster, to be better than everyone else. I tried to get things done before they were even asked of me. Making calls on time, finding leads, researching clients; I was on top of everything all the time. But it was never enough, and it never will be. I learned that lesson the hard way.
“You can do better than this, Sebastian,” he says with the same intonation that he always uses. That condescending and smug tone that he’s somehow above us all and we’re not keeping up with our end of the bargain.
I don’t say anything and keep my lips pursed
because I don’t want him to say the same sentence in three different ways. This is all that he called me here for. To let me know how I am a waste of space.
“Are we not doing enough for you already?”
The question stings, and I want to scream at him, “No, asshole. And also, fuck you.” I want to say that to him, so he knows what he truly is. But where would I go if I did that? Where would I work if not at Code Blue? I haven’t known any other way to live for so long.
So I don’t say anything and quietly listen to the same bullshit because there’s nothing I can do about this.
“You disappoint me, Sebastian. And here I thought you were different.”
I really was different, and you used that to break me.
“Let Ash know of the progress you’re making.”
That’s the end of it, and I walk away just as quietly as I had walked in, not making eye contact with the few men that are around the building who know exactly what just happened because they regularly find themselves at the receiving end of Daniel’s verbal abuse, too.
On the drive back to the village, I think about this morning. I shouldn’t have seen that envelop. Maya Venne Ford. It can’t be her, right? She can’t be the runaway warrior Code Blue is looking for, the female bear shifter who is the last of her name; it can’t be her.
Maya Venne Ford. It’s the last name I’d been searching for. I’ll be damned if it’s her.
The soft, gentle memory of Maya under the white sheets conjures up in my brain. Everything around me turns to a calm and soothing lullaby. She peels away the duvet, and her face comes out; that innocence, that sense of lightness, and that fragility. It can’t be her.