He props up on his forearms and brushes my hair from my forehead. “I wish you’d told me things were so bad. I would have come and kidnapped you months ago.”
I smile. “That would have been nice. Then we could have done this sooner.”
I sigh as I tighten my legs around his waist, wanting to keep his softening erection inside me for as long as possible, blinking in surprise as I feel him twitch inside me. “Surely not even you can be ready again this fast?”
“I’ve been making do with nothing but my own hand for five months,” he says with a wicked grin as he slides out of me and glides back in again, making me moan. “I’m going to be hard all night.”
“And I may not be able to walk in the morning,” I say, with a matching grin. “But I don’t care.”
The rest of the night is so good that by the time I go to sleep I’m high on sex, love, Danny and the certainty that together we’re stronger than any of the ghosts in my past.
Danny
“And, after all, what is a lie?
Tis but the truth in masquerade.”
-Lord Byron
I wake up to find the cabin so cold Sam’s teeth are chattering in her sleep.
Our fire has gone out and evidently the heat that was clunking sluggishly on and off yesterday has decided to clunk out today.
After mounding the blankets on top of Sam—taking a moment to admire how beautiful she looks with her hair wild on the pillow and her pale skin glowing in the morning light shining through the window—I slide out of bed and get dressed as fast as I can.
The race to escape the chill reminds me of waking up in our South Carolina house as a kid, back when Dad was living at home and kept the heat turned down to fifty degrees in the house to save money for beer. Things were better when Caitlin took over, but she still kept the heat at no more than sixty.
I grew up dealing with the cold, but Sam was born and raised on Maui. She thinks Los Angeles winter mornings are chilly. She’s going to be traumatized if she wakes up in this freezer before I get the fire going again.
After writing a quick note to let her know I’m heading down to the main building to tell them the heat’s out and to grab another bundle of firewood, I click quietly out the door. Outside, it’s so cold my breath instantly forms a cloud in front of my face, but with my fleece on, it’s bearable, and there’s a heaviness in the air that hints that the day will be warming up soon. It’d better, or we may have to skip out on our float trip and spend the rest of the morning huddled in front of the fire in our room.
Though huddling in front of the fire with Sam doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend the day…
The thought brings images from last night floating to the surface of my brain. Sam with her boots and red stockings still on while I ate her pussy. Sam with her head thrown back and her breasts bouncing as she rode me the second time. Sam falling asleep on my chest making those snuffling noises she makes when she’s really tired and goes from awake to dreaming in two seconds.
I fell in love with her all over again last night.
She is everything I’ve ever wanted—my best friend, my other half, and a lover who blows my mind every time we’re together. I love her so much my chest felt bruised with it by the time we wore ourselves out and had to crash—her passing out the moment her head hit my chest, me staring at the dark beams of the ceiling until I decided I didn’t care what she was keeping from me.
I love Sam and only Sam.
If there were another guy, she obviously isn’t pining for him now. The way she responded to me last night made that clear. And if it’s something else that’s bothering her, she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Sam and I have always told each other everything, but maybe it’s time for that to change. We’re not kids anymore. We’re adults and sometimes adults keep secrets. Sometimes adults keep secrets because it’s kinder than telling the truth.
As I’d lain there last night, imagining what I would do if I were the one who’d had a one night stand with a girl who meant nothing to me, I realized I wouldn’t tell Sam, either. It would only hurt her and damage the relationship we’ve worked so hard to build. Falling in love with Sam was easy, but staying together long distance, through some of the craziest years of our lives, as we grew up and became different people than we were when we started out, wasn’t always a walk in the park.
What we have is precious, irreplaceable, and if I’d made a mistake I was certain I’d never repeat, I would lie to Sam to protect it. To protect us.
So if that’s what she’s doing, I’ve decided to let it go.
I made the decision last night and woke up feeling lighter than I have since we got off the plane. Even waking up half frozen isn’t enough to ruin the start of my day. And hearing the clerk say the hotel is giving us half off the second night of our stay because of the heat problem makes the case of frozen toes worth it. Now Sam and I can splurge on something other than trail mix for lunch.
When I get back to the room, she’s still asleep, so I build a fire and put on the electric kettle to make instant coffee.
Finally, when the room is warm and we both need to get moving if we’re going to make our float time, I wake her by waving the steaming coffee fumes at her nose across the mattress, laughing when she moans happily in her sleep.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty. We’ve got to get moving.”
“What time is it?” Sam asks in a rough voice, smiling when she opens her eyes and sees the coffee. “Coffee angel. Come to me.”
I wait until she’s propped up against the headboard with the covers tucked up to her chest and hand over the mug. “It’s eight. I figured we should leave here by nine, right?”
Sam takes a sip and nods. “Yeah. That should be fine.” She frowns over the rim of her mug as she takes another sip. “Is it cold in here?”
“It was even colder thirty minutes ago.” I tell her about the broken heat and the discount on our second night, laughing when she perks up and says—
“That means we can have a real lunch. What?” She laughs with me. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking the same thing a few minutes ago. Great minds think alike.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Last night was amazing, by the way.”
“Yes, it was.” She turns to me, giving me a closed lip kiss, shaking her head and pulling away when I try to deepen the kiss. “No way, I have morning and coffee breath.”
“So what,” I say, kissing her bare shoulder. “You’re naked under this blanket. That’s all I care about.”
She laughs a husky laugh that makes me pretty sure I’m going to get lucky, even before she says, “Fine, but take the coffee before I spill it and burn both of us.”
“Your wish is my command, princess,” I say, taking the mug and setting it on the nightstand before rolling back into bed with Sam.
Twenty minutes later, she’s arching beneath me as she comes and I’m fighting to hold on a little longer, but it’s pointless. She feels too fucking amazing, and I’ve been dying to be with her like this for so long not even our marathon session last night took the edge off.
I call out her name, my balls feeling like they’re going to crawl up into my body as I come so hard the world is still spinning when I roll over onto my back a few minutes later, pulling Sam with me so she’s lying sprawled across my chest.
“So good,” she says, with a ragged sigh. “That was even better than last night.”
“I know. I’m really good in bed,” I say, laughing when she pinches my nipple.
After we catch our breath, we head into the shower, managing to keep our hands to ourselves long enough to get clean and dressed in our warmest clothes. We grab towels from the room and our swimsuits for the hot springs we’ll be stopping at halfway through the float trip and are out the door in plenty of time to snag breakfast sandwiches from the restaurant on our way to the river.
We meet the people we’ll be floating with—a family of four from Australia, who seem frie
ndly and laid back—get our life jackets and hit the Waikato River. Sam and I each have our own kayak and have no trouble keeping up with the guide. The family we’re with is divided between two double kayaks, with the parents in the back and the kids in the front. They’re a little slower, but I can tell Sam doesn’t mind taking it easy, and neither do I. It’s another gorgeous fall day, and the countryside is even more stunning from the water.
I’ve spent the past several years with the outdoors as my office, but the beauty of the natural world never fails to take my breath away, and this part of New Zealand is over-the-top stunning. The blue-green water flows in a peaceful ribbon through farmland and gently rolling hills, under high steel bridges and between rock formations sharply eroded on both sides, hinting at the violence of the current when the river is high. Trees on fire with orange and red leaves bend down to kiss the surface of the water and the cool breeze carries a clean mineral scent. Just pulling in a breath is an exercise in bliss, and for the first time in years I want for absolutely nothing.
I look over at Sam as we paddle in silence behind our guide—a burly man named Blake with a bright red beard and a warm smile who looks like life on the river is good to him—and realize our dream has finally come true. I have everything I’ve wanted since I was thirteen years old. I have Sam with me all the time, the health and freedom to do the kind of work I love, and the confidence that we’re going to go all the way.
I can see our future stretching out ahead of us, filled with adventure, love, and maybe someday, not too terribly long from now, a couple of kids in the front of our kayaks. After the stress of helping Caitlin raise Ray, Sean, and Emmie when I was younger, I used to think I didn’t want kids, but I want everything with Sam. I want to make plans and babies and memories as beautiful as this one for the rest of our lives.
She smiles back at me, a wide, excited smile that makes me certain she’s read my mind, but we don’t say a word. We don’t need to.
Everything I need to know is right there in her blue eyes, shining with hope and happiness.
Even when we stop at the hot springs, changing into our swimsuits behind some rocks before easing into the water of our own private pool a good ten yards away from the family and our guide, we don’t talk much.
Sometimes you need words, but sometimes words just distract from the experience. Sitting in the hot water, with my arm around Sam as we look up at the blue sky and the fall leaves going out in a blaze of glory, I know words couldn’t make this any better.
This day is beyond words, beyond perfect, so magical I can’t even be sad when it’s over and we’re pulling our kayaks out of the water three hours after we went in.
I just take Sam’s hand and follow her into the roadside café up the hill from the river, knowing I’ll never forget a single detail of this morning. We get settled in a corner booth as far from the television blaring in the corner as we can, and warm up while our guide brings cocoa to our table.
“Two cocoas, extra marshmallows,” he says, setting the cracked mugs down in front of us. “Feel free to bring it outside if you can’t hear yourself think. Rick’s a hell of a guy, but the man’s going deaf. The news gets louder every time we come in.”
Sam and I thank him and he heads out the door, joining another burly man at the ashtray outside to have a smoke with his coffee.
“Let’s do it again,” Sam says with a happy sigh when we’re alone.
“We will,” I promise, taking her hand beneath the table. “At least once before we go.”
“Or maybe we’ll never go,” she says, smiling. “Maybe we’ll decide to become official Kiwis and have little Kiwi…”
She trails off, smile fading and eyes going wide as she stares at something across the room.
I turn to see what’s captured her attention, but she grabs my arm and surges to her feet so fast her chair legs squeal across the tile floor.
“Let’s go,” she says. “Let’s wait outside for the van.”
I’m about to ask what’s wrong, but before I can get the words out I hear the news anchor mention a scandal at Sterling University in Los Angeles.
“That’s your school,” I say, frowning up at Sam.
“Come on, Danny,” she says, desperation in her voice. “Please, let’s go.”
But it’s too late, I’ve already turned to face the television screen, just in time to see her stepbrother Alec’s picture in the upper right-hand corner.
There are shots of five college-age guys floating in the air beside the blond anchorwoman’s face, but my eyes are drawn to Alec immediately. I’ve looked into that smug pretty boy face enough across the dinner table that it is intimately familiar, though I’ve never seen him looking as shaken up as he does in that picture.
“Danny, I need to go,” Sam says, making it hard to concentrate on the story, but the television is turned up loud enough that I hear the phrase “rape trial” and “suicide” with crystal clarity.
“What the hell, Sam?” I say, turning back to the screen. “Is this why you’ve—”
Sam’s picture appears in the middle of my sentence, stealing the words out of my mouth, and making me feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.
It’s a shot of her from some college party. She’s got a red solo cup in her hand and she’s laughing so hard her smile is a mile wide. She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, which I’m sure is part of the reason the news station chose that picture.
It makes for more interesting news to paint the girl who’s fled the country to escape testifying in a rape trial as a party girl who couldn’t care less that one of her classmates is dead.
“Fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath as the segment ends with a sound bite from the father of one of the accused boys, some B list celebrity who insists his son will be proven innocent once the truth comes out.
I have no idea what the truth is, but I know my decision to let Sam keep her secrets can’t stand. She can’t run away from this because she doesn’t want to testify against Alec, or whatever else is going through her head. If she ignores a subpoena, she could go to jail.
Which is why you’re in New Zealand right now, dumbass.
I turn back to Sam with my brows furrowed, determined to find out if this is why she dragged me halfway across the world, but her seat is empty. Sometime in the thirty seconds I was sucked into the news, she must have made good on her threat and went outside. I stand, searching the café just in case, but there’s no one here but the family we kayaked with and the old man running the joint who’s still glued to the news.
I hurry outside, but there’s no sign of Sam in the parking lot, either.
“You looking for your girl?” Blake asks. For the first time today he isn’t smiling.
“Yeah, you seen her?”
He nods and points toward the road. “She got into a truck with some fella like ten seconds ago. I told her the van was almost here, but…she didn’t seem to hear me.”
I curse as I run a hand through my hair, my pulse racing.
Where the fuck is she going? And what did she see in L.A. that has her so messed up she’s willing to run away and leave me in the middle of a foreign country without so much as a “see you later.”
“Did you see which direction the truck went?” I ask, prepared to run after her if that’s my only option.
Blake points back the way we came. “Toward Taupo. Sit up front with me, bro and we’ll look for it on the way back. I didn’t like the look of the driver.”
I’m about to tell him thanks, but no thanks, that I can’t wait even a few minutes to go after her, when a van with the Waikato River Tours logo painted on the side pulls into the parking lot.
“Get in,” Blake says, clapping me on the shoulder as he heads back into the café. “I’ll hustle everyone else into the van. We’ll catch up. A truck that old can’t be going that fast.”
I nod, trying not to imagine what could happen to Sam if she got into a car with a creep. I try to rem
ember how strong she is, and the way she fought back against that guy in Auckland, but I keep thinking about how easy it was to lift her in one arm last night as I carried her into our cabin.
Sam’s got a big personality and a big smile, but she’s still only five seven and a hundred and fifty pounds.
Against a man my size, or bigger, she won’t stand a chance.
Samantha
“The thorns which I have reap’d are of the tree
I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.”
-Lord Byron
It’s over.
There won’t be any fresh start, no happy ending.
I should have realized Todd’s father’s connection to Hollywood would make the rape trial news even overseas. The entire goddamned planet worships celebrity. Jesus may still fill pews on weekends, but it’s celebrity and scandal that drives clicks and powers the twenty-four hour news channels.
I should have known better than to think I could put the past behind me and move on. The past was always here, lurking in my bone marrow like a cancer, providing the illusion of safety when it had the power to resurface and destroy my life all along.
“You can come all the way to Auckland with me if you want.” The middle-aged man with the mangy beard who picked me up slows as we pull into downtown Taupo, but doesn’t pull over. “I don’t mind. I like company.”
I laugh, a strangled giggle that sounds as crazy as I feel right now.
I haven’t said a word to this man since offering my name thirty seconds into the ride, and have ignored all of his attempts to make conversation. I’ve just been staring out the window, chewing on my lip until the skin feels bruised, my thoughts racing as I try to figure out what to do next.
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