by Daya Daniels
When I lift my head, my eyes narrow and a sharp breath leaves me.
Light…
Could it be? Or is it the concussion I currently have gifting me with hallucinations!
I see lights ahead.
They’re a distance away but I can seeeee them.
Maybe God can hear me after all!
One. Two. Three.
Fire.
The torches…
The ones on the other side of the island are burning.
She lit them.
Tenley had lit them!
Attagirl…
Keep that fire burning, baby.
Finally, I have some semblance of where I am floating in this ocean. Although I’m far away, I now know where I am. I just need to get back home…to Tenley.
I crack up laughing.
Hope surges through me and it’s quickly given a swift kick in the ass by survival and followed up with a slap on the shoulder called endurance.
I won’t die today.
I can’t.
Death be damned.
“Come on, Ten, light my way.” I steady myself on my knees in the middle of the boat, fight the splashes and the waves, and paddle like a motherfucker!
Tenley
I’M A SNOTTY-NOSED, anxiety-riddled mess!
I pace the shoreline conscious of the ebb and flow of the tide. I’d lit those torches long ago but still nothing. I’d even ran out there a second time to make sure they were still burning, and they were.
My gaze is fixed on the sea.
Nothing but black. Nothing but waves and salty air.
“BROOKS!” I grab a section of my hair and tug on it. “Brooks!” Only a croak comes out since my voice is going. I scream anyways over and over and over. Then, I sob. “Brooks.” I collapse on the sand.
Peni edges toward me and swipes my hair away from my face.
“It’s just you and me, girl.” I pull her close and cry.
Her little ears twitch. Her blue eyes widen into perfect circles. She murmurs something.
I stand and rush toward the shoreline, searching. “Brooks!”
“Tenley!”
Finally, it has come…though a distance away.
It-is-real.
His voice.
Brooks…
I say a silent prayer.
“Brooks!” Clenching my fists at my sides, I scream with everything I have left in me. “BROOKS!”
“Tenley!” The echo gets closer.
“Brooks!”
“Tenley!”
Closer, closer, closer…
Until I can hear the splashing from the oar as he paddles, and the bow of the boat comes into view.
“Brooks!” I laugh endlessly.
“Tenley!”
It goes on and on and on and I swear my name has never sounded better to my own ears.
Tenley
THE NEXT MORNING…
I didn’t sleep last night since I was up during much of it watching Brooks sleep.
He was almost delirious when he’d crawled out of the boat and landed face-first in the sand on the beach. Imagine my surprise to find him alone. And when I asked him where was Kulon, with wet and wild, fiery blue eyes Brooks peered into my face and had simply told me “GONNNNE.”
Everything in me wanted more, begged, but Brooks wouldn’t give it to me.
I’d marked the tree already with Brooks’ treasured axe which is now in my hand. The etching today evidences that we’ve been here on this island for seven hundred and thirty-two days—a little over two years. It’s been two fucking years. I ran a finger over the marking and simply walked away from it in an attempt to stop the sight of it from burning my eyes.
Now, I stand on the beach in the midst of dawn. The air is cool and the sky above is gray. The ocean kicks up with the salty breeze.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
The raindrops hit me, cool and wet.
Usually, I’d drink them, but instead, I can only stand frozen at the sight in front of me. The boat in the sand which I had tied up last night, leans to its side, looking just as it always does…except…
I breathe and run a hand over my face, exhaling harshly.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
The rain falls a little harder.
And drop by drop it washes away the pool of blood that’s in the bottom of the boat mostly and spattered everywhere else. I keep my gaze fixed on the trail of it in the sand as it runs in a red watery path toward the ocean.
Brooks had no visible injuries, except for the small cut in his scalp which I’d patched up before I’d put him to bed last night that would warrant this degree of mayhem.
The blood here…
So much blood.
The blood that clearly doesn’t belong to Brooks.
And what I think is a sharp piece of flesh-covered bone.
I plant my shaky hand to my mouth and breathe into it almost screaming as a fat tear slips down my cheek. I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It smells of death—wretched, cold, sad, and red.
I could ask the questions.
I could even assume.
But, I know Brooks would never hurt anyone.
Except if he was defending himself…
Another thick tear careens its way down my cheek and mixes in with the rain.
It’s sympathy for whatever burden Brooks must carry for the rest of his life—the pain and guilt I’ll never be able to take away. And this skeleton will always be doing a jig behind his back until he finds a way to bury it.
Unless he already has…
I suck in another breath.
Whatever happened out there beyond the reefs was baaaaad, but at least the man who I needed to come back had. Should I feel awful for feeling that way? I wipe my cheek with a hand and look at the ominous scene for a little longer, fighting off the nausea, the panic, and the sadness.
As they say, “Only the strong survive.”
So, perhaps, this is simply survival.
Brooks
I SHOULD BE WORKING…keeping my hands busy and my mind empty. Instead, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing out the window at the rain which falls and breathing in the earthy scent it fills the air with. I plant my feet on the floor, grateful to be on solid ground again and exhale.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were up.” Tenley slips back into the house with a noticeably hoarse voice.
I catch her eyes—those damn eyes—and they tell me everything.
Does she know I’m capable of harming another human?
Does she know I’d kill to protect her?
She rushes toward the preparation table. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted for breakfast. So, I got some eggs and thought I’d make something really nice.” She rambles on for quite a while. I’m not even sure I catch what she’s saying after she talks about the eggs and mangos.
Standing, I close the space between us in a few strides.
As soon as my hand lifts and my fingers clutch a thick section of her hair, she stills completely.
Her head hangs low, hands placed firmly in front of her. “I thought I’d cook something special seeing that you weren’t feeling well.”
“I feel just fine.” Maybe more just like a murderer today, but still, like a man. I shove my nose into her soft hair and breathe her in—salt, sea, sweet skin. My arms wrap around her and I pull her close—her back to my chest—holding on tight.
Right away, she weeps. “I thought you were dead.”
I suck in a breath. “Shhhhhhhhhhh.”
“I thought you’d left me.” The way she shakes and shivers takes hold of me.
“Never.” I exhale loudly. “I’d never do that, Tenley.”
Every tear which spills from her eyes hurts my very soul.
I pull her closer, plant my face in her wild strands and breathe her in. “I’m sorry you were afraid, Ten. I don’t want you to be afraid. Ever. Even when I’m afraid, I don’t want you to be afraid.”
She nods.
“Because it isn’t your job to be afraid.”
She manages a weak smile.
“It’s mine.” I tip my head forward just once.
She glances up at me. “Brooks.”
“Tenley.” I get lost in her sad golden eyes, pink lips, and perfect nose. She twists around in my hold and cups my face with her trembling hand. My forehead falls to hers. I breathe. She breathes. Her tiny hand runs over my cheek—soothing, comforting. I shut my eyes and inch closer, attempting to become one, to merge completely. I nudge my cheek against her lips desperate and curious about her ragged exhales which fill my ear.
I should stop.
She pulls me closer and drags her lips across my cheek. “Brooks.”
The way she says my name…
A calling?
A claiming?
Silent questions.
Unspoken answers.
Yet, the truth right now is as palpable as the intent.
We rock, back and forth, pushing and pulling, wanting and refusing, inhaling and exhaling. I tilt my head to peer into her face, tip of my nose teases her perfect one.
I should fucking stop this.
Her hand runs over my shoulder, up my neck and settles there.
The rain outside falls.
Her lips brush over mine, softly, so fucking softly that when they edge away my own chase them.
A groan slips from me and my hips push into hers. “Tenley.”
With the contact, a tiny breath slips from me and her eyes fall shut as if I’ve just injected her with a drug that’s melted all the tension inside her away.
“Brooks.” She slumps, falling further into my hold. Soft, pouty lips tease mine. Her warm hands slide over my chest, my abs, and then one settles over my booming heart.
It looks perfect there.
I should fucking stop this!
The voice does nothing to kill the need, the desire for skin against skin, to be close to a woman I’ve come to care so fucking much about. Shame. Guilt. Desire. To be close. To be touched. Contact.
I allow her to do what she wants with me.
Every caress. Every sigh from her mouth causes my panic to kick up a notch and for my dick to swell even more in my shorts. Nothing will make this go away.
Except for what I need—what I desire.
And even when I think of the past…The past isn’t here. It’s gone. Or at least it’s far, far away. It’s just us—Tenley and me—here, alone.
I’m ripped to pieces, divided between time periods, split into two.
A painful exhale rattles my chest.
The same one leaves Tenley’s beautiful mouth.
I want to stain her, wreck her, scissorhand her heart like she’s done to mine.
“Brooks.” Her nostrils flare.
“Yes.” The material of my shorts strains as my dick fights the cage it’s in.
“Brooks.” A line of tears edges her long tawny lashes which tickle the apples of her cheeks.
I put my lips to the shell of her hot ear. “Yesssss.”
Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.
“Brooks.”
No, I don’t want to hear it!
A tear slips from her left eye.
Slowly, I lick it away, tasting the salt, consuming her sadness. The drop full of regret and the realization that she’s about to get herself into massive fuckery—just like me.
And, no matter how many breaths I breathe in none of them seem to fill my brain with the much-needed oxygen I need to think straight with. It all goes directly to my aching balls!
Those lips. Those hands. Those bated breaths.
With a moan, my lips part and then her sweet tongue delves into my mouth. It seeks out my own and tangles perfectly with it. My eyes squeeze shut, and I consume her mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking along her delicious lips, leaving her breathless when she pulls away.
Wetness lives in the air.
Lust creeps its way up my spine.
I bury my nose in her neck.
I can smell it.
All the pure honesty floating around.
Want.
Raw.
Powerful.
“We should stop.” She drags her lips across mine.
I nod nonstop even though I know I can’t dance this stupid dance anymore. I have no more steps. I can’t stand the beat. I’m tired of tripping over myself and dragging Tenley along with me while she stomps all over my toes! The curtain in my mind has lowered. The-performance-is-over.
No sanctimonious voice in my head could ever tell me any different.
Panting, rocking, breathing lust, eager-as-fuck.
It is instinct. It is desire. It is inevitable. In this beautiful Hell…
“Yes, we should stop.” I pull her closer.
Then, her lips fuse with mine again.
Tenley
WARM HANDS…
So much strength in them.
One clutches the back of my neck and the thick fingers on the other find their way into my hair.
A breath leaves me, and I peer up into the most captivating blue eyes.
They’re a mirror, reflecting back everything I feel, want, and need.
I brush the tip of my nose across his and then I’m searching for his mouth, desperate for his lips and craving the taste of his tongue.
With a groan, he edges closer to me, planting his hips against mine and sliding his thigh in between my legs. My back hits the edge of the table forcing a squeak from me.
My fingertips dig into powerful shoulders as Brooks looms over me, panting, chest heaving, eyes wild with what I don’t want to name. I delve deeper into his mouth with my tongue sinking into the sensation of his soft beard against my cheeks, his breaths dusting my skin and the moans from his mouth sliding their way into my very soul.
I’m pulled. I’m pushed. I’m kept in his grip as he rocks against me, closer, closer, closer. Come closer…The table rattles when his hand finds the edge of it and he forces his tongue further down my throat and consumes every breath I breathe.
A rip tears through the air when my thighs part wider, shredding the old dress I’m wearing but Brooks still doesn’t stop. He’s vicious with his kisses. And his fingers are desperate as they rove over my flesh. His big hand slides up over my dress and then dips inside it.
I toss my head back and out slips a long sigh from me when his fingers wrap around a breast and my nipple is sucked into his mouth. It’s the undoing of me. It’s one of the last pieces of me which he doesn’t have.
He’s coming for the rest soon…
A hot breath licks across my skin before his mouth is consuming my breasts, sucking and licking and leaving my nipples wet peaks when he looks up at me.
Cries. Sighs. Moans.
I’m a mess when he stops and I’m desperate for more.
And I’m also afraid.
The strength in his touch. The force with which he uses me. The desperation.
He’s hungry.
And I’m the meal!
With shaky fingers, I can’t help where my hands go, feeling as if suddenly they’re no longer in mental handcuffs, and my desires no longer need to be hidden or controlled. My fingers skitter over his abs. They drag over his powerful pecs. And soon they’re at his waistband drifting lower and lower and lower.
A loud hiss crackles through the air when my open palm glides over his cock. Mouth open, I adore it.
I gaze up at him as he stares ahead, face tight and mouth clenched. His head lowers as he looks at me with eyes which are sad. They’re full of desire, flooded with fear too—same as mine.
He breathes out a breath and then his lips slam into mine as he plants a soul-shifting kiss there. My fingertips dig into his firm ass. Firm. Up I’m lifted and held there for more than a few seconds before my body is set on the preparation table with patience.
So much strength.
So much power.
His hand wraps around my thigh and wrenches it open and up and he pulls me to the ed
ge of the table with so much force, the legs of it scrape against the wooden floors.
Startled, I suck in much-needed air.
It all seems to happen in slow motion.
We’re going to do this…We’re going to go where we shouldn’t. We’re going to fuck.
It is wrong.
Yet, right now, it feels so right.
I’m wet, so fucking wet that it slicks the inside of my thighs like a filthy invitation!
It’s been so long, so goddamn long.
Brooks plants his sweat-slicked forehead to mine, breathing heavily, mouth gaped open. I can smell his sweat, sweet with desire, laced with lust. It drips down the middle of his chest and along his chiseled abs.
He’s gorgeous.
I’d be a fool to ever deny that.
And his eyes—big, beautiful, bright, bright blue and rimmed by the darkest longest lashes.
Would it be so bad to pretend he’s mine…just for a little while? Would anyone understand what we’re about to do? Would anyone ever understand why or how we got here—like this? Would I ever forgive myself?
“Brooks.” My trembling hand reaches up to cup his cheek before I ferociously kiss his lips.
He doesn’t speak, only nudges his perfect nose to mine, breathing like a bull before it charges.
Everything about him in this moment begs for forgiveness. But the desire is stronger, instinct more powerful than anything else.
My shaky thighs remain open, bent awkwardly as he holds one steady and under arrest.
A breeze washes into the house carrying the earthy scent of the rain with it and tickles my skin, causing goose bumps to erupt all over it. It caresses my pussy and the sensation goes right up my spine and leaves my mouth in a gasp.
I haven’t been touched like this in so long.
I’m drooling for it.
Brooks’ eyes stay on my bald pussy. A deep moan from him follows and then his thick fingers tease my lips. Up and down they slide and linger on my clit, earning soft cries from me until I’m rocking into the expert fingers on his hand like I’m having a seizure.
He bares his teeth.
My mouth falls open, staggered, helpless breaths escape and are captured by his mouth.
I want him. I want his hands all over me. I want him to fucking wreck me.
His chest slams into mine when I’m pulled into another harsh kiss that leaves my lips red and swollen when he pulls away.