by Karina Halle
“Age doesn’t matter.”
“It does sometimes. It does when you assume that just because you’re not thinking of the future doesn’t mean he isn’t.”
I nearly laughed. Uncle Al clearly didn’t know Dex at all. “He just got out of a long-term relationship. He’s not thinking about that shit.”
“And are you?”
I stared at the wisps of steam coming off the mug of tea. Christ, I didn’t know what I was thinking half the time. I wasn’t about to tell him about my white picket fence idea, the conversation we had about doing something after EIT, about houses in Seaside, Boston, or wherever I said. I wasn’t going to tell him about the maternal instinct that started kicking about when I saw him being a fur baby daddy to Fat Rabbit.
“I…”I started. “I’m just playing it by ear.”
He shook his head slightly. “You’re in love, Perry. You’re head over heels. You’re playing it by heart, not ear. Like you always do.”
“Well what the hell do you want me to say? If I say I think about a future with him, you’ll get mad, and if I say I don’t, you’ll call me a liar.”
His eyes softened and reached out for my hand across the table. “Bella, please. I’m not mad. I just want to pull you out of it for just a moment, just so you can look at it from a different angle. There are so many things in life that make us happy in the short term. These cookies, for example,” he said, picking up the tray. “But in the long term, they can hurt you.”
“Maybe I’m tired of everyone always worrying about me getting hurt,” I said snidely, crossing my arms.
“Maybe we’re worried because you are always getting hurt,” he said, “and a person can only get hurt so many times before it really starts to ruin them.”
“Alberto, are you coming to bed?” Marda asked, appearing at the doorway in a silk night robe, a sleep mask smeared on her face.
“Just a minute, darling,” he said, flashing her his smile.
“No more cookies,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “You have to watch your heart.”
When she left, he looked at me and sighed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just looking out for you as I always do. Wasn’t I right about Seattle? About you going to stay with him and his girlfriend?”
I mumbled that he was. “But it doesn’t mean you’re right about this. I love Dex. I know him inside and out.”
“You know him as much as you can know someone for eight months,” he said. “Just don’t forget that. And don’t forget that most of that time, he was with someone else.” He eased himself out of the chair, leaving me with that extremely sobering thought.
He kissed me on the head goodnight and then shuffled off toward his room. I sat there at the table, drinking my hot tea until it was gone, apprehensive now about going to see Dex. I hated that my uncle—and by extension, my parents—were able to instill this doubt in me.
Had I really only known Dex, my Dex, my Declan Foray, for less than a year? The last two months of us living together, that was the only time we were actually together as a couple. Plus we started up hot on the heels of his last relationship, one that lasted three fucking years. No wonder my parents were so against the whole thing. No wonder my uncle was. Aside from the people who knew us best like Rebecca, Dean, and Ada, our relationship must look batshit crazy to the rest of the world.
Then again, what else was new?
I took in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, then placed the cup of tea in the sink. I wondered if Rebecca was up and ready for a chat, but the lights in the living room were out. I reluctantly made my way to the bathroom and then finally the guest bedroom.
I carefully slipped into bed, not knowing if Dex was asleep. I wanted to talk to him—I wanted to know what he talked to Uncle Al about and if it was anywhere near as brutal as it was for me. But I heard him snoring lightly, brought on by all the beers, and decided to leave it for another day. I turned my back to him, our asses touching each other but our upper bodies far apart.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was on a bluff, overlooking the sea. I didn’t know how I was there, but I was. The grass was cool beneath my feet, the wind sweeping off the blackened ocean was rich with salt and chilled.
I’d been here before. Was I dreaming?
I looked down at my body and saw I was barefoot and in a simple, plain nightgown. The déjà vu was back in full force all over again, transporting me back to September. But instead of being beside a lighthouse, there was nothing there except the burnt remains and a few pieces of foundation.
I had to be dreaming. I never owned a nightgown like that, and the only time I ever did was when I was caught in a nightmare. I half expected the shriveled face of Old Roddy to appear, to remind me that what happened here, what started it all, was only eight months ago.
But he never came. He never popped up. As far as I could tell, I was alone. It was just me and that dark, wide expanse of the Pacific, beckoning me like a gaping mouth.
I stared at the ocean, those obsidian waves that crashed at the shore below, wondering if this was all there was to it. Then, after some time, I knew it was all beginning.
A child’s giggle came from behind me and the punchy sound of a rubber ball being kicked. I turned around to see nothing but the lighthouse remains and the dewy grass that stretched back into the forest of thick trees. There was no child, there was no ball. But that didn’t mean anything.
Suddenly I heard quick footsteps behind me and the feeling of someone running past, brushing against my legs. Right before my eyes I saw a child form from thin air—a young girl—who ran after a ball. She squealed as she went, her attention devoted to getting the ball and nothing else.
At least it seemed that way until she reached it and kicked it off into the forest. The girl stopped, and in her brief stillness I could make out her fine features, her long dark hair and neatly tied bow at the back, her plain dress and shiny shoes. She was no doubt a ghost—her complexion was more than pale and there was a slight transparency about her, but I still couldn’t tell if I was really seeing her or if it was all in my head. My dreams had always been prophetic, but since the one that Pippa appeared in the other day, it was hard to tell if they were real or not.
No wonder my parents were so concerned about me losing my mind. It never really ended, did it?
The ghost dream girl cocked her head at me and I could see her eyes were nothing but black marbles, the soulless ones that ripped into you. “Can you go after my ball?” she asked, her accent untraceable but her words properly enunciated.
I swallowed thickly and shook my head. I’d been in that forest before, in real life, and it was terrifying as hell. Fuck that noise.
“But I need my ball,” the girl said, her tone becoming harder. I noticed her little hands tightening into fists as the rest of her became more solid and less see-through.
“I’m sorry,” I said meekly, my voice echoing. “I don’t want to go in there.”
The girl glared at me and flipped her hair over her shoulder before she started marching over. “You will go in there and get my ball.”
She stopped a few yards away, and it was only then that I noticed a large spot of blood forming on one side of her chest, spreading slowly like a blooming rose. “You’re not really here, are you? Not yet?”
I frowned, not sure what to say to that.
The girl took a neat step forward, her hands clasped at her middle. “Or are you? Are you here to play with us?”
Without warning, a large gust of wind blasted at my back, whipping my hair into my face. When I finally brushed it out of my eyes, I saw Pippa standing between me and the young girl. Just like in my dream before she was looking tired and pale, her thin body hidden by a coat. Her attention was entirely on the girl.
“You get away from here,” Pippa said to her. “You leave her alone. She is not yours.”
“But she can see me,” the girl said matter-of-factly, a devious twinkle in those cold black eyes.
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br /> “Go,” Pippa said, her voice louder and almost animalistic. The young girl stuck out her tongue but trotted after the ball, disappearing into thin air right before the trees. Pippa faced me with a weary expression.
“They keep finding you, don’t they?”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Am I dreaming again? Is this real?”
“You are dreaming but it is real,” she said. “This is the safest way I can get to you. The Thin Veil is too risky.”
I gestured wildly to the forest. “Then who the hell was that little girl?”
She gave me a slight smile. “I am not the only one who can get to you this way. You know this. Your dreams have always been very powerful, Perry, always. You’ve seen and experienced things that eventually happened to you. Every day you’re alive and embracing who you are, you’re opening yourself more and more.”
“So what about what you said before…about having to watch out?”
“I don’t think you should be here, Perry.”
“Dreaming?”
“Doing the show. Not right now. It’s just a feeling I have…”
“I can’t keep going on your feelings. I have a life to live too, a living to make.”
She reached out and grabbed my hand. Hers felt so delicate, thin and cold. “I know. But you’re not in a good place right now. You’re the strongest when you are strong and right now you are weak. You’re succumbing to worry and insecurity.”
“That’s me, like ninety-nine percent of the time.”
“Darling, please. I wish I could offer you more than just a feeling but you have to take it to heart. Go home. Go back to Seattle. Go be with Dex and concentrate on your life there.”
“But the show is my life, at least for now. It’s just a few days of filming, we’ve done this a million times before. When this is done, we will go back to Seattle. After we stop by my parents first. I’ve apparently got a lot of explaining to do.”
Her eyes widened with intensity, her mouth becoming tight. “No. No, don’t do that.”
My heart started thudding around in my chest at her sudden change in tone. She was starting to freak me the fuck out. “No? What do you mean, no? It’s my mom. Your daughter. I haven’t seen her or my dad or Ada for months.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t know why but I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s...too much. It’s too easy. Everyone in the same place, all the eggs in one basket.”
Now she was starting to sound like Creepy Clown Lady. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I know I’m not making sense. But it’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s bad.”
“And the show, filming here, that’s not the problem anymore?”
She shook her head still, her thin curls flinging around. She started wringing her hands together. “No. It’s all wrong. You need to go back home.”
“Just tell me why!” I exclaimed, almost stamping my feet.
“I don’t know!” she yelled back. Her eyes dropped to the ground.
A light ticked on in my head. “Are you afraid of my mom and I making up?”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, just staring at the grass beneath us. Another breeze blew past, my nightgown billowing around me.
“Are you afraid that if my mom and I make amends, that you’ll lose an ally in me? That I’ll turn against you?” I asked, studying her face. I took a step forward. “You know I’ll never forget what my mother did to you.”
I tried to reach out and touch her but she yanked herself out of my reach and stared up at me with frightened eyes. “Don’t go. It’s too much in one place.”
She still didn’t make sense but it didn’t matter. She was worried that my mom and I might make up. She probably feared that I would shun her or that my mom would do the same to me as she did to her. It explained why she looked so frightened.
“Pippa,” I said slowly, hoping to convince her not to worry. I knew what was best for myself. But my grandmother was already fading before my eyes.
“Too much, too easy,” she said, her voice croaking and then lowering itself until it was just a shadow of what it was. “Too much. Too easy.”
And then she was gone.
***
I woke up to Dex’s warm hand sliding up underneath my shirt, teasing at the soft area underneath my breast. I smiled and relaxed into it, momentarily forgetting about everything that happened. I pushed the thoughts of Uncle Al, of his warnings, of my dream, all the way to the back of my head. They wanted me to think about them, to weigh down my heart with worry, but I wouldn’t give in.
I’d only give in to the naked man beside me.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispered into my neck, his lips gently trailing down to my collarbone.
I lazily reached up and ran my hand through his thick hair. “Morning, baby.” I glanced around us for a clock, seeing only framed horror movie posters. The twins must have decorated the room. “What time is it?”
“No idea,” he said, and from the way his teeth grazed the outside of my ear, I could tell it didn’t matter. “I think everyone else is up. But then again, so am I.” He took my hand in his and placed it under the sheets, right on his cock. No surprise, it was hard as stone and felt hot beneath my touch. He groaned in response, the sweetest sound to my ears.
I gave him a sly look, putting pressure on my hand, my fingers gripping him. Still, I told him quietly, “I don’t think this is a good idea. That door over there doesn’t lock and anyone could come in at any moment.”
He sat up slightly and put his hand behind my head, holding me there hard. His eyes looked like a fire had been lit in them. “I don’t give a fuck if anyone sees us or hears us. Do you?”
I swallowed hard, surprised at his intensity. The way his eyes were burning into mine, I knew that this had to do with what Uncle Al had talked to him about last. Hell, I don’t know why I wasn’t feeling like giving him a big fuck you either.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”
“Good,” he growled and then kissed me, tangling me in a wet, passionate kiss that made our tongues dance. I felt my body relax under his touch as his hands began to slip my underwear and shirt off. He tossed them across the room then put me on my back, his firm body pressing down on me. “This is real,” he said, voice oh so low, so gruff it made me throb. “This is nothing but real. You and me. Us. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Perry, I love you,” he said, his gaze drifting to my lips. “I’m not…” He paused. “I’m here. I’m staying here, by your side. This is more than just two people shacking up together. This is so much more.”
“Dex,” I said, my fingers trailing down his face. “Are you okay?”
He watched me for a few loaded beats before he closed his eyes. “Yes. Sorry. I’m okay, I’m just…I’m your fucking man, baby. That’s all there is to it, I’m your fucking man. That is never going to change.” He looked at me and grinned, his hair falling in his face. “And now I’m going to fuck you till we embarrass ourselves.”
Before I could say anything to that, his mouth was on mine again and his fingers were sliding between my legs. He let out a moan when he felt how wet I was. It only took a minute of his deft exploration before I was close to coming so I shimmied out of his grasp and turned my self around so my mouth was at his cock. Naturally, my ass was at his face.
“Holy fuck,” he said under his breath, and while I placed my hands firmly around his shaft, he gripped my hips and pulled me back a bit toward his face. Dex and I had been pretty adventurous in our relationship—I mean, nothing really compared to that night we had in the hotel New Orleans. But a sixty-nine was something new to me.
So while I concentrated on licking him from balls to satiny shaft, working him with my mouth, hands, and tongue as best I could, he was trying to get me off at the same time. And though I was one of those rare females who actually got turned on while giving a blow job (it helped that Dex was so perfectl
y endowed), it was hard to continue when his own tongue was sliding along my pleasure spots and making me forget where I was. Long story short—the sixty-nine position doesn’t work. You both get too turned on to keep going. It’s a beautiful failure.
“Fuck this,” I said, letting go of him and turning around. I placed my legs on either side of his hips, straddling him, and guided him into me.
“You’re taking charge today,” he said, staring up at me with feverish eyes. He bit his lip as I started rocking into him and moaned again.
“You might want to keep it down,” I whispered, vaguely conscious that Uncle Al, Marda, my cousins, and Rebecca were just a few rooms away.
“You might want to shut up and keep fucking me,” he answered with a lazy smile.
That I did. I gently rocked back and forth on his cock, sitting up straight, my long black hair flowing over my shoulders as Dex enjoyed the view. I knew I wasn’t the prettiest, skinniest chick around, and now especially, but from the way he always looked at me with my body on display like I was a platter of ripe fruit, I knew I had to at least try and work it. I played with myself, building up to an orgasm before he swatted my hand away and replaced it with his thumb.
“Don’t take away my job,” he murmured, and then pulled me down toward him, my palms pressing into the strength of his shoulders, my breasts swinging near his face. With his free hand he took my nipple into his mouth and sucked hard enough to make me cry out from the sweet pain.
When he finally pulled his mouth away, he gazed up at me. “This is real, baby. This is us. Now, always, us.”
I could only pant from the increased pace from his thumb.
“That’s it, ride me raw.” He took a hard hold of my hip and made me ride him harder, faster, until I was coming at the same pace, my head thrown back in ecstasy. “Let me know how much you love to fuck me.”
A cry or two escaped my lips, the throws of my orgasm flowing through every part of me and he didn’t hold back either, muttering a stream of delirious obscenities as he grunted to completion, the headboard banging hard against the wall.