Eversea: A Love Story

by Natasha Boyd

  I noticed all the small changes of his face as the things he was feeling became etched across his features. I saw the tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip and the flush on his cheekbones. I saw the crease in his brow and heard his breathing as he gritted his teeth. His arms and body quivered with tension and restraint as he braced himself above me. Then his movements picked up speed and became slightly erratic.

  I wasn’t sure what was more erotic, the feeling of Jack sliding in and out of me or watching him lose the last vestiges of his control, but suddenly it didn’t matter because I was right there with him. I tried to keep my eyes open, but the tide of feeling building inside me was as familiar as it was utterly foreign. I gasped under the onslaught, squeezing my eyes shut and writhing up to meet his thrusts.

  “Look at me,” Jack rasped out. I snapped my eyes open, not really seeing anything beyond what I was feeling. Except, I saw him shift up slightly and felt, as his hand came between us, his fingers sliding over my sensitive and swollen flesh. The last thing I heard was Jack’s rough voice saying, “Come for me, Keri Ann,” and then, as I complied, “Holy shit.”

  Jack was no longer holding back as I rode out the waves, gasping and clenching around him as he slammed into me several more times before letting go, his face contorted in harsh and beautiful pleasure.

  “Oh, God, Keri Ann.”

  I drew him down to me, holding his shuddering body tightly as I struggled to get my breath back. I knew the vision of Jack’s face above me as he climaxed would be etched in my mind forever. After a few moments, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me, letting out a deep sigh.

  T W E N T Y – E I G H T

  I watched Jack cross the room as he returned from the bathroom, and my eyes were drawn to the crazy swirling black dragon on his hip and glute. It looked like it covered some kind of scar. I had felt the ridges of his skin beneath it with my calf as we made love. I wanted to ask about it.

  Jack crawled back into bed next to me and gathered me to him. He brushed my hair off my forehead and kissed it.

  I sighed and snuggled up to his side, curling into a ball. “Hmmm, so this is what it feels like to be a woman, finally. Thank you for divesting me of my virginity.”

  A laugh rumbled through his chest beneath my cheek. “I knew you were using me. So are you done with me now?”

  “Not even close.” I let my hand roam across his chest.

  I wondered if boys’ nipples were as sensitive. On a whim, I pushed up and nipped gently at the flat of his nipple with my teeth.

  His even breathing stumbled, and grabbing my hand, he slid it down his stomach under the sheet. Pressing my palm against his stiff erection, he murmured, “That’s good, because it seems I haven’t gotten nearly enough of you yet.”

  “Wow,” I whispered at the hot silky feel of him and then swallowed audibly. Like a gulp. Smooth, Keri Ann. “I didn’t know that was possible ... that guys ... I mean that you could ... so soon.”

  “Trust me, it’s new for me, too.”

  I grinned at him and sat up, sliding the sheet down. He had seen all of me—it was only fair I should be allowed the same privilege.

  He placed his hands beneath his head, watching me with a lopsided grin, his eyes roaming over my nakedness in return. I resolutely ignored the urge to cover myself.

  On a whim, I leaned forward quickly and kissed the dimpled crease on his cheek. “I love your dimple,” I whispered, smiling at him.

  His eyes flickered briefly.

  I sat back again letting my eyes roam across his bared body. He was magnificent. I didn’t have a lot to compare him to, but as far as I was concerned, he was perfect ... and so very male. Running my hand toward his side, I made for the tattoo.

  Jack grabbed my hand, but didn’t remove it.

  I waited a beat, not looking at his eyes, and then continued. Jack’s hand rode mine, not stopping me, but accompanying me as I traced the skin covered by the swirling and black flames and fearsome eyes and teeth of a monster. He was tense beneath me.

  “My father,” he whispered so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him. He cleared his throat. “My father ... he beat her. My mother.”

  I waited quietly, wanting but also fearing the story.

  He went on. “Nobody knew he was my father, we lived away from prying eyes, and he was never there. He was a public figure, in politics and ... titled, and I understood later we were ... a shamed secret.”

  He continued haltingly. “The last time ... I remember waking up early in the morning. I’d heard them again in the night and hidden under my blankets and pillows so I didn’t have to hear my mother crying again.

  “He wasn’t a drunk. He was a stone cold asshole. It would be weeks and sometimes months between his visits. He always came to see her, not me, for some reason. Although I knew it was always me they fought about. She’d made me promise not to come down if I ever heard him. So I didn’t. I must have fallen asleep that night, normally I didn’t, but they must have stopped arguing and it was late.”

  I kept very still as Jack talked. He stared at the ceiling and then closed his eyes before continuing.

  “The quiet woke me up that morning. Normally, I could hear my mum in the kitchen or calling me to wake up and come down. I looked at the window and saw it was light enough that I should have been up and having breakfast before school. I went down the stairs in my pajamas calling for her and not getting an answer.”

  His hand on mine gripped hard as his voice strained. I got the impression he had never told this story before. My heart pounded in trepidation as he continued.

  “I remember skidding around the corner into the kitchen and seeing him first ... standing at the stove, all in black. I assume he must have been in a suit, but all I remember is the darkness and the fear of seeing him and thinking my mum would be mad at me for not staying out of the way. But then I saw her lying on the floor. She was naked ... and not moving. In retrospect, I wonder why I didn’t go to her, but I remember going wild and flying at him, trying to get to his eyes. His evil eyes. I wanted to scratch and rip those awful eyes out of his head and bite those awful hands that inflicted so much pain. The next thing I knew he struck me, and I was flying back across the room. I hit the table next to where my mother was lying. I couldn’t breathe from the pain. I learned later my arm and a rib were broken.”

  I was glad his eyes were closed, and he couldn’t see the tears sliding down my face.

  “But he came at me again, and I felt real fear then. Fear he’d kill me and I wouldn’t be able to get help for my mum. I didn’t want to think she might not be needing help anymore. He was holding a full pan of boiling water and he called me a little brat and threw it. I kicked my legs out, and by some stroke of luck, my foot hit a chair that protected me as it moved.”

  Jack gritted his teeth as if he was reliving it, right at this moment. “I remember it. In slow motion. I remember seeing the water hurtling toward me and partly splattering all over the chair.”

  He took another deep breath. “I threw myself to the side and covered my face before the rest of the water hit me.”

  My hand was still pressed under his, against the evil sight on his hip.

  “I don’t remember much right after that. Apparently, I screamed so loud a neighbor, and trust me, the neighbors weren’t close, heard me. I still don’t understand what a stroke of luck that was, but she found us and called the police and ambulance. He was gone, of course. My mum was okay, though concussed and badly injured.

  “We filed a police report at the hospital saying someone had broken in and attacked and raped my mother. We basically told the truth except for the part where we knew him. I’m not sure the police really believed us. I know the neighbor didn’t. Mrs. Eversea was her name ... she was basically the one who saved our lives. We stayed with her. Her husband worked at this boarding school nearby and persuaded the headmaster—”

  “Mr. Chaplin.” My voice sounded choked and foreign to my ears. Jack opened his eyes a
nd looked at me, seeing the tears I hadn’t meant to show him. I was sorry I’d spoken, I hadn’t meant to.

  “Yes, Mr. Chaplin—persuaded him to hide me at the school. I guess I wasn’t that safe because after a few years we had to move.” He took a deep breath. Surely there couldn’t be more but he went on. “It was me he wanted. That’s what they fought about. She hasn’t told me all the details, but in addition to his love of inflicting pain, she discovered ... other things he liked.” Jack rolled to face me, keeping my hand covering the physical evidence of his horror.

  “Is he ...” I swallowed. “Is he still out there ... your father?” I whispered.

  Jack shook his head and exhaled. “He shot himself. Ten years ago.”

  We were silent. I couldn’t even begin to articulate the emotions careening through me as I thought of Jack as a small boy enduring such terror and pain. I was angry. More so knowing his father was dead. I wondered if Jack felt the same frustration that he could never lay this ghost properly to rest.

  “I’m an Earl, you know,” he laughed, humorlessly. “He threatened her if she ever tried to divorce him. The public scandal would be too much. The bastard made sure before he killed himself to recognize me as his rightful heir. Even in death, he didn’t want to let us go. There’s a stately home and everything. The missing earl, that’s me, donated it to the National Trust. There’s one lawyer, one, who knows who I am now, and he’s in love with my mother, so my secret, and hers, is safe.” He snorted. “That was the one damned good thing that came out of it, she’s happy and safe now. But my God, it was hard for her being a single mom to me. When I was older I certainly didn’t make it easy on her. I had some demons of my own I had to work through.” Jack shook his head. There seemed to be another story there, too.

  “And Mrs. Eversea?” I asked, softly. How wonderful they had picked her name when she had basically saved them. Saved him.

  “My mum and her are still friends, as far as I know.” He shrugged and gave a small grin. “She made the best Digi Cake.”

  “The best what?”

  “It’s cake made with chocolate, syrup, crushed cookies and butter. A heart attack on a plate.”

  “Sounds amazing.” I pulled my hand away from his hip and slid it through his hair, then across his face and down the side of his body and back to the beautiful artwork. Running my fingers over it, I followed every line and curve and ribbon, and then without thinking, I lowered my mouth and kissed every section of it. I ran my tongue over the angry raised ridges here and there like I could erase them away.

  Jack was tense and still as he watched but didn’t stop me.

  There was no pity in my actions. It was simply worship of the man who had been forged out of his past. I didn’t care if Jack wasn’t his real name, and I didn’t want to know it. He was Jack to me. I wanted to take away his pain. “I can think of another damn good thing that came out of it,” I whispered, noticing he was becoming aroused again.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You.” I took a deep breath and pushed him onto his back.

  Jack tensed. His hand came to my hair. “What are you doing?”

  “Show me?” I asked nervously and proceeded to make love to him the way he had to me.

  “I don’t think ... I need to,” Jack stuttered out, and this time it was his hand, white knuckled, grabbing fistfuls of sheet.

  T W E N T Y – N I N E

  The next morning when I awoke with the bright sunlight streaming in Jack’s window, it was to find myself with Jack still wrapped fully around me, in a very similar position to the one we’d fallen asleep in. I smiled groggily, closing my eyes against the bright glare and reveled in the feel of us cocooned together.

  My heart was floating somewhere far above me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had woken up with such buoyant happiness. I had to work later today, but perhaps Jack and I could kayak this morning, and I could see what other materials I could find. If I was going to start creating things again, I needed to start collecting more raw materials. And oh man, I was hungry. We never had gotten around to dinner or even eating the cheese and crackers Jazz packed.

  My stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly. The sound was followed, immediately, by the bed vibrating as Jack laughed at me. I guessed he was awake. I reached my hand behind me and smacked where I expected his butt to be.

  Quick as a flash, he rolled onto me, pressing me, belly down, into the mattress as his voice growled playfully in my ear. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” And then his stomach growled, too. I burst out giggling.

  “I guess that makes us even.” He laughed and reached for his boxers. “Time for food.”

  “I have no idea where my underwear ended up,” I said, looking around the bed and holding the sheet up to cover my nakedness.

  “I ate it.”

  “Ha ha. Seriously, these girls need confining, where’s my bra?”

  Jack laughed and dropped to his hands and knees at the end of the bed then came up and snapped my bra at me, followed by my panties. “Nice color.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, my cheeks flushed again.

  He pulled his jeans on, and then came and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips before heading to the bathroom.

  I dressed quickly, opened the French doors to the view, and inhaled the cool ocean air. Glad I had a moment in the fresh light of day to think for a second and compose myself, I thought about what Jack had told me last night. It was such a big secret, and he had trusted me with it. I was humbled at the same time my heart broke for him. It explained so much about who Jack was. The fact that, as a scared six-year-old boy, his instinct had been to fight his mother’s attacker rather than run and hide was a testament to his courage and strength of character. I had sensed all this about him, but knowing what I knew now, while it underscored what I felt for him, was no great comfort.

  I took a deep breath and focused on the beauty laid out before me as Jack came up behind me and propped a chin on my shoulder. He snaked his arms around my waist, the warmth of his bare chest at my back. I smiled and leaned my head back against his.

  “Hey, do you see the staked out squares down there in the dunes?” I pointed down to the left about twenty yards along the beach. “Someone found a turtle nest and marked it out. When those turtles grow up, they’ll always return to this beach.”

  Jack nuzzled his face toward me and inhaled. “Keri Ann, will you consider coming out to California after I get done with this whole promotional tour thing?” he said to my neck.

  His arms were tense around me, and I knew this was a really big deal of a question for him. Heck, for me, too. My heart danced around in joy, and I wanted to turn around and hurl myself into his arms shouting Yes! Yes! Yes!

  But instead, I took a deep breath, and clearing my throat, said simply, “Yes, I’d like that.”

  His shoulders relaxed at my answer, and he gave me a quick squeeze. “I’m going to investigate what I have left in my fridge from my personal shopper. See you downstairs?”

  I exhaled. “Then will you drop me home? I was thinking of going for a kayak. You interested? You can use Joey’s.”

  “Sure. After we eat I’ll drop you and bring the bike back here, then you can come get me. Work?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh wait!” Jack suddenly let me go.

  I turned to find him fishing around in his jeans pocket, his brow furrowed. I mimicked his expression, wondering what on earth he was looking for.

  He grinned as he pulled his fingers free and held his hand out to me. “Look what I found yesterday.”

  I stared, dumbfounded. In his hand was a piece of red sea glass, about the size of a quarter. I swallowed and gently took the dull, frosted piece, holding it up to the light. “Wow,” I whispered, seeing small hints of amber in parts. “Do you realize how rare this is?” I glanced at him. “Sorry, I probably sound like a nerd.”

  He laughed. “I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but when I realized it was sea g
lass, I knew you’d love it.” I smiled curiously at the look on his face. He looked proud of himself. “And I don’t think you’re a nerd. I think you’re amazingly talented.”

  I was quiet, processing his words and the enormity of the gift. To me, this wasn’t just a piece of sea glass. To me, it meant Jack really got me. Did he realize that? I wasn’t sure. “Thank you.” I said, closing my hand around the glass.

  Jack nodded once.

  I turned back to the view outside before confiding my piece of news. “Guess what? Jazz took that chandelier I made to Faith’s boutique yesterday. It sold. In one day.” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice, and it sounded even crazier now that I’d said it out loud.

  “Seriously? That’s fantastic, Keri Ann. Congratulations!” He turned me around. His huge grin was infectious. “It was gorgeous, and I didn’t even see it finished. I’m not surprised. You should have told me, we could have celebrated.”

  “We did, anyway, didn’t we?” I grinned back at him stupidly and cocked an eyebrow. He laughed, kissing me with minty lips and gathering me in a tight hug. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  * * *

  I was due to pick Jack up in about twenty minutes. The two kayaks were in the back of the truck ready to go. Once I got out of the shower and toweled off, I texted Jazz a not-so-cryptic message.

  Me: Thank you for the small package addition to the back pack ...

  The phone pinged back immediately. I laughed.

  Jazz: OMG, OMG, OMG. You okay?

  Me: More than ok! We’re going kayaking, I’ll chat with you later. Just ... thank you.

  Jazz: xxx

  * * *

  When I neared Jack’s house a few minutes later, I had to stop to allow a black executive sedan from an airport car service pull out of Jack’s driveway. A weird feeling flipped over in my gut as I waited for it to pass, nodding to the suited driver. I fingered my phone for a second wondering if I should call Jack. It could have just been a delivery but I had a feeling it was a person. The owners of the house, perhaps? His agent? Katie?