by L.H. Cosway
His words blindside me a little. I knew Robert had depth, but I hadn’t known the true extent of it until now. And it’s crazy, really, because his thoughts are almost like a mirror held up to my own.
We each stand on either side of that mirror.
At odds, yet reliant on one another.
Opposite, yet in sync.
How could I have walked away from such a connection, one that evolved over so many years? I’ve always told myself that I wouldn’t allow my illness to rule me, but that’s exactly what I’ve been doing ever since I went into my coma. I can have Robert and I can have my health. It’s just going to take work, the same way Robert said kindness and love requires bravery.
Nothing worth having is easy. The same goes for people. The ones who take cold, hard guts to get inside of are the most worthy of all. The ones you have to fight for.
In our own ways, Robert and I have been fighting for each other our whole lives. We just didn’t know it.
Invigorated by this revelation, I jump to my feet. “Let’s go for a swim.”
A short burst of laughter erupts from him. “It’s the middle of October, Lana.”
“So what?”
One end of his mouth curls as he studies me, his dark eyes sexy under the moonlight.
“You’re right,” he answers, shaking his head. “So what — let’s go.”
Rising to his feet, he begins to strip off his clothes, and I stand there watching him, soaking up the sight of his beautiful skin. Catching myself, I shrug out of his coat and pull my dress up over my head in one fell swoop. I shiver pleasurably against the cold, my pale skin pimpling. Something’s gotten into me tonight. Things I would normally consider crazy seem incredibly appealing. I’m drunk on emotion, on the knowledge that I’m going to take a chance on this beautiful man.
And it’s my own decision; no one else is influencing me this time.
I stare down at my feet, wriggling them in the sand.
I look up, and Robert’s gazing at me. “You’re perfect.”
I laugh, whispering, “Shut up,” and then turn to run towards the sea. Despite the moderate weather, the freezing water hits me hard and I gasp loudly, wading in it up to my waist. Squeezing my eyes and my mouth closed tight to keep from getting salt in them, I drop my body under the water and then jump back up. Droplets trickle down my skin.
“What’s gotten into you?” Robert calls, nearing me as he navigates the cold sea.
Biting my lip, I reply, “I don’t know. You. Life. Everything.”
I twirl around in the water, splashing all about.
A laugh full of relief and joy sounds from him as he rushes to me, throwing his arms around me and pulling me back down into the water with him. He swims backwards, dragging me along, my head resting next to his chest, right over his heart again.
“I love you, you absolute nutter,” he growls, biting playfully at my neck.
“I love you, too,” I answer, twisting so I can kiss him long and deep. We’re out far enough now that we have to paddle to keep above the water. We touch and caress in the dark of the night, alone beneath the stars.
It’s so cold that I should want to leave, but the pleasure of being with Robert overrides everything else. I’d once thought that was a bad thing, but it’s not.
The alternative is far worse.
Finally, Robert manages to drag me from the sea, scooping me up into his arms and carrying me back to where we’d been sitting. We stand facing one another, smiling like maniacs and putting dry clothes onto our wet bodies.
It takes a while to get back to the houses because we keep stopping to kiss and touch like we’ve been starved of such things for centuries.
“Mum’s babysitting for my Uncle Rick tonight. She won’t be back. Want to stay over?” Robert asks naughtily in my ear.
Nodding, I push him into his front garden, and he rummages in his pocket for the keys. We burst through the doors like two kids breaking the rules, and he leads me to his bedroom. I type a quick message to Mum on my phone, telling her I won’t be back tonight.
Seconds later we’re both stripped naked. I allow my mouth to travel down his body, kissing and sucking as I go. The salty sea on his skin tastes incredible.
My thighs straddle his legs, and he stares down at me, adoration seeping from his every pore as he strokes my damp hair away from my face.
“You do realise this is one of my teenage dreams come true, right?”
I chuckle, flicking my tongue over his nipple and making him groan. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Phillips?”
He grabs my face and pulls me up for a kiss. “I mean having you in my bed when we were younger was something I thought about a lot. Actually, scratch that — it’s something I thought about all the time.”
“Oh, really? And what did you think about doing to me?” I ask in a hot voice.
He flips us so he’s hovering above me, his warm hand finding its way between my legs and spreading them wide. He pulls my knickers down, the damp material dragging painfully across my skin. Then his hand is caressing my folds, coaxing them to get wetter.
“This,” he breathes, before plunging two fingers into me and pumping in and out.
I gasp and moan, shifting against him, wanting more.
“If you had done that to me back then, I probably would have died.”
Laughing affectionately, he draws a trail down my neck with his tongue, all the way to my breast, where he sucks my nipple into his mouth. The sensation of him nipping it with his teeth causes me to undulate beneath him, fumbling for his cock, wanting it inside me.
Seeming to know exactly what I need, he withdraws his fingers and thrusts himself into me, filling me completely. I grip his bed sheets, finding it oddly kinky to be making love in his old bedroom. It’s almost like we’ve come full circle, back in the house where it all began.
He pounds me hard and fast, sweat dripping down his neck, holding tight to my waist. At one point he lifts me by the hips so he can get in deeper. His low grunts and dirty whispers fill my ears and my senses.
As the night wears on, it feels as though there isn’t a single part of my body that he hasn’t claimed. I’m on top of him now, moving back and forth as he laces both our hands together. He stares up at me, mouth open in wonder and lust.
“Marry me,” he breathes harshly, squeezing my hands tight.
I’m momentarily taken aback, but I don’t stop moving. I’ve never felt more vulnerable in my entire life, and I don’t think Robert has, either.
Through my foggy, sex-filled thoughts, I whisper, “Okay.”
He beams at me, coming seconds later. I collapse on top of him and cradle him in my arms, trying to show him how much I love him with actions because my voice won’t work. After a while I see his eyes start to flicker; he’s dreaming, deep in slumber. Stroking his dark hair hypnotically, I tell him, “You’re mine,” in the quiet, empty house. Nobody has ears to hear me, but as Robert’s eyes continue to flicker, I think I see him smile.
The next morning we oversleep, not waking up until ten or eleven. My bladder feels like it might burst, so I throw on one of his large T-shirts and hurry to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I don’t make it there unnoticed, as Liz is walking down the hallway.
Her brown eyes light up when she sees me, and a grin splits her lips. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
I can’t help it; I grin right back at her. “Yeah, Liz. It does.”
I think she might be tearing up a little then, because she dabs her eyes. “You’ve been the making of my son this year, Lana Sweeney. Don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
He’s been the making of me, too, I think to myself.
Embarrassed by her praise, I continue to the bathroom. When I emerge, Robert’s already retrieved my bag from his car where I left it last night. Liz cooks us omelettes for breakfast, after which I go to Robert’s room to find my clothes.
They’re on the floor, dry but a little stiff. I throw them on
nonetheless, knowing I only have to wear them for the walk across the field to my house. Robert comes in just as I’m dressed, backing me up against his door and kissing me long and leisurely. Once he allows me up for air, I tell him I’ll see him later and then leave to go home.
It’s a windy but moderately warm day out, so I take a detour and walk through the overgrown grass at the back of Liz’s place over to the edge of the hill. The breeze filters through the grass as I sit down, giving it movement, bringing it to life. It tickles softly at my legs. With my arms around my knees, I sit there for a long time, breathing in the sea air and watching the hypnotic flow of the waves.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear someone moving through the grass, nearing me. Robert settles down to my left.
“I thought you were going home,” he says, gently trailing his fingers over my skin.
I shift closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. “I was, but then I felt like sitting out here for a while.”
He smiles, letting his arm fall to my legs. Bending down, he runs his nose over my knee. There’s a long stretch of peaceful silence before he says, “I asked you to marry me last night.”
Tilting my head to him slightly, I smile back. “I know, I remember. It wasn’t exactly the most conventional way to propose,” I tease him.
“Ah true, but you did say yes.”
Smirking, I reply, “I think I remember my exact word was ‘okay.’”
“Same difference.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean you have to start planning a wedding or anything.” He chuckles. “I just want to know that you’ll be my wife one day. Knowing that, well, it gives me peace.”
Turning to him, I lift his hand in mine, fitting my fingers through his. “I will be, Robert. One day.”
“One day,” he repeats, pulling us back to lie flat on the grass. Staring up at the bright blue sky, I see our future take shape. A future very different from the past we’ve lived. It will be transparent, and there will be no more masks. No more pretences and no more lies.
In this moment my heart soars, because the shape of that future gives me peace, too.
End.
Thank you for reading.
About the author
L.H. Cosway has a BA in English Literature and Greek and Roman Civilisation and an MA in Postcolonial Literature. She lives in Dublin city. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. You can follow her on twitter at twitter.com/lhcosway and you can contact her at [email protected]. To be the first to know when her new books have been released, you can sign up for her mailing list at lhcosway.com. You can also find her on Facebook.
Acknowledgments
As with any book, it always takes more than one person to create the finished product. The Nature of Cruelty is a novel particularly close to my heart and I would like to thank each and every person who helped me along the way. Letitia, who took my simple idea for the cover and turned it into something magnificent, and who also planned so much of the promotional side of things. My beta reader Kristy, who read the book in its rawest form as I was writing and gave me so much advice and feedback. My other beta readers Coral, Marta, Juls and Maria, who all gave up their precious time to read the book and help me make it better! Joy, who did an excellent job of proofreading, and who was a complete joy to work with – see what I did there ;-) All of the book bloggers who have offered to help spread the word by writing reviews and taking part in the blog tour, you are so important in encouraging people to read and you don’t even realise it. And last but not least, to my poor, long-suffering boyfriend, who has the patience of a saint and the unenviable position of living with a crazy writer like me. Thank you all!
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Interlude I
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Interlude II
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Interlude III
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Interlude IV
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One