Fire In The Water

by Janice Ross

  He grasped hold of my waist. Every inch of my abdomen, like when he'd taken my body for his own, screamed to be touched. I warned my nipples to relax, between my legs to remain calm. They didn’t listen. I yearned his hard touch, the sweaty feel of our bodies colliding and the succulent taste of his tongue penetrating my mouth. I was overflowing with thoughts of ecstasy riding my mind like he'd ridden my body earlier.

  The veins in his rippled arms captured me. My heart raced so much, I was bound to die of a heart attack instead of this damn water. And Rhys didn’t release. In fact, he pulled on me like I belonged to him.

  Dear God, I can't take this emotional turmoil. Make it stop, please!

  Little by little, the ocean released control over me. All that remained was the never ending sting of rain and Rhys' command over my body. The fight was gone from me. He drew me closer into his arms, and my feet dangled over one set as the other braced beneath my back. Muffled cries escaped my lips.

  "Go away," I begged into his drenched T-shirt, connecting with the warmth radiating from his abdomen. As a last second attempt, I hammered at his chest with tight fists, though he didn't budge. He rocked me from one side to the next while nature's lullaby eased my soul.

  When we reached the shore, Rhys dropped to his knees. He maneuvered my body to match his in a quick, sloppy motion. My insides burned with hatred...love...uncertainty...lust.

  "Chanel, I can't walk away. I won't let you leave me. I-I think I lo–"

  "Nooo!" I cried out. The words, though my own, weren’t registering with my actions. I wanted to be free of what was, what is and what is to be.

  "You're mine, in this life and the next." His hands palmed the sides of my face. "You can't escape me." He forced my lips to his. We fed on the rain as well as every morsel the other had to offer. I tipped my waist up to meet a solid bulge that was set to bring me to my knees.

  "No Rhys, no." As much as I wanted to mean the words, his touch collapsed all opposition. This love was so powerful that it burned, so bitter that it filled my every inadequacy.

  Why can't he just let me go?

  If I was to stay in this god-forsaken life, I wouldn’t ever be able to permanently break his hold. And that would satisfy his sick need to have me. Nothing else would make him happier. But he didn’t deserve me. Doesn't deserve to be happy. And for my time of weakness, neither did I.

  Knowing all that was and all that is, how could we expect to live or love? No amount of sacrifice was capable of washing away the damage. No level of sorry could reverse that which was irreversible. No act of forgiveness could erase the knowledge of what had occurred. And no passage of time could overshadow this fire burning in my soul.

  ~

  Life is a continuous story of rotating plots. Mine wasn't meant to be confusing. I was the exception to the rule. I wasn’t supposed to be confused or left to examine the phrases or instances of the years. Whether fact or fiction, I was being made to decipher it all. To make matters worse, the only person who could give me complete closure to this house of lies had found his demise out here, in these very waters, and had been swallowed up whole only to be spit out a mere shell of a human.

  "Chanel, let me take you home." Drops of moisture shower down from Rhys' forehead, his nose, and those lips holding a fresh set of stories. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was real. Hell, had any of this been real?

  "How did you find me?" Taking long breaths and time to listen carefully for every heartbeat or anything which would be out of place, I no longer trusted my senses.

  "I'll always find you, baby. Always." His hands played with the sides of my head. I could bet we were a grimy mess from the sand. I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted to stand out in the ocean to demand answers for all the years of deception. My life would now and perhaps forever be suspended in an alternate universe, anticipating closure which might never be given.

  Reflection was now my eternal friend. Silence had no hold over me. From the very first time Zach had stated he loved me to the very last, I now questioned the motive. From my pleas to take our relationship to the next level to his insistence that we should not, I was able to rectify certain issues. If the love had no longer been there, why hadn’t he just let me go? Hell, I'd spent so much time beating myself up over the instant connection I'd felt to Rhys when I could've actually given him a chance much sooner.

  If Prissy hadn't come to my door, if she hadn't gotten angry with Rhys, I might have now been suspended in another hanging web of deceit. "You're not innocent," I mouthed into the wide open sky.

  The waters finally began to ease up though the Atlantic's tide continued to blanket our bodies. As I gathered the details of a life hellbent on running wide, I mentally prepared my burning heart and darkening soul for the journey ahead. Three years ago, life had started anew. Only, I hadn't known at the time. My fingers now holding intently to the slippery clothes of a man I wanted to live outside of the closed bubble of lies, I reconciled with my heart. I would make an effort to move forward, but only when we were able to torch the ruse of our jilted pasts.

  XLIII.

  Chanel

  ~

  As the storm faded, Rhys lifted me off the seat without a struggle. My body remained still even then, though I was still reeling over the days' events. I began gripping at his arms only to let go. I squeezed and flexed loose, held tightly, then spread my fingers wide to release entirely. I was not ready to fade into him. Not yet. Things like this couldn’t be good for me. My story no longer seemed to be a fairy tale, not with me getting the guy.

  "Breathe," Rhys encouraged. Funny thing was, I only just realized I was holding my breath.

  "Rhys," I cried out, flinging back my head. His arms were wrapped beneath me, so when he pulled tighter and gripped closer, the moment intensified. I burst out into heavier sobs. He maneuvered around the car only to kick it shut as he hustled to my front door. Once inside, he stopped in the foyer. The entire house was dark and provided a chill. The space was foreign. Rhys was foreign. Dear God, I was a foreigner in my own body.

  "I need to see you," he demanded. He set me down on the cold floor, then directed my body a few inches from him. His hands reached inside of the entrance wall. Within seconds, lights flooded the passageway, extending further into the home in an eerie type of way. Bit by bit, I settled into a calmer mood, though the reflection from a nearby mirror reveal streak marks from my lashes. Between the two of us, the silence echoed with exaggerated breaths and raging hearts, marking an anticipation on the edge of explosion.

  I slowly ran my fingers across the contours of his face. I tipped up onto my toes and drew his mouth down to meet mine. His tongue slid between my lips, only to dive deeper. I took him in, enjoying the force of his thrusts in, out and around. He was capable of burrowing in deep enough to make the neglected regions of my body quiver. Life couldn’t end right now, and it might have been the perfect death in the arms of a man I wanted to abhor. Knowing better, I was still ready to say yes to everything Rhys would ever want, no matter the cost.

  "Rhys. Rhys." His name became a tune to be worshipped.

  "Chanel," he replied. "We can rewrite our futures." There was a strain in his words. The palm of my right hand pressed to his throat, sliding to rest at the mountains of his chest.

  "I never really saw you before, but from what I can tell back then, you never had tattoos." I swirled around the marking of a shield on his left side.

  "I had an accident. Getting inked was meant to cover the scars."

  "Are you okay?"

  He nodded. "So much has happened since we last saw each other three years ago."

  "And still you found me, Rhys. I'm a brand new person."

  "I am too. It's like we've become reinvented over the past several hours."

  I had the sense that neither of us was ready to drift further into the house. We were testing the waters unlike when I'd raced into the ocean and Rhys had followed.

  "Swear to me that you didn't know," I begged. My th
roat swelled around the plea.

  Rhys dropped to his knees, pressed the side of his face to my thighs. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing as if he had no intention of ever letting go. I melted against him. My waist swayed forward. This was our place to be in the universe, meant for pure thoughts. Under different circumstances and with anyone else, I was certain I would have likely rejected the connection. I believed the same of him. And at any other time, I would’ve refused to give in. Perhaps, just perhaps, if the universe had lined up this opportunity for Rhys and me with anyone else, there would have been glitches. This sort of passion was meant to be: meant to be expressed, meant to be cultivated. Here we were, the center of each other’s worlds and finally willing to give in to the love that had been brewing, perhaps even when we were once apart.

  We worshipped this time, this moment, this new love that should have always been. With our hands, we explored with hope. With our lips, we tasted the forbidden fruit. With our hearts, we said yes.

  Rhys reached behind me. He lifted me up to his waist just before dropping to his knees in the middle of the foyer. While his left hand balanced my slender frame, his fingers moved through my wild hair, across my jawline, and down my neck to stop at my breasts. Removing the drenched tee shirt, he tossed it closer to the door. His mouth then followed the trail to find my mounds, reaching just in time to take my left nipple between his teeth.

  He lowered his forehead onto my skin. His air tickled, sending a fresh whisk extending out from my core to all regions. Gentle, moist kisses landed on my bare flesh.

  He gnawed.

  He suckled.

  "Ahhh ..." I wiggled about, intimidated by the skill he used to claim me. My nipples grew stiff and a flush of moisture seeped down my inner thighs. He was capable of pulling things out I was simply not aware of. Things that had been buried deep down in my soul.

  "Let me love you, Chanel." He nibbled on my stomach, around my navel, and continued to drift lower. "Let me in," he mumbled, pulling away enough to allow the words to carry. Before long, I was fully naked beneath him, grappling for air, reeling from desire.

  "Rhys ..." I called out through a heavy exhale.

  His head lifted just enough for him to catch my gaze. There was a hint, a shine radiating from his pupils. "We're going to make this right here on out."

  "What about–"

  "I swear, Chanel, I'm in. The shit of the past will be handled, but we have to be now." As he assured me, he started lowering my body back to the cold floor. "It’s me and you here on out." He didn’t wait for a reply.

  "Don’t ever let go, Rhys. Promise me. Promise." Waves of emotions shot through every inch of me when, in a frenzy, Rhys' fingers slipped between my legs. Although his hands plowed with a pointed determination, his mouth massaged my triangular treasure. He tickled at my clit before feasting on my womanhood with a spiteful passion that called out everything that should have been his all along. He attacked me in beast-like resolve. I wanted to give it all with no regard for anything else. I forced my hips forward only to pull him in to feast.

  "Rhys!" I screamed. "Rhys." His name naturally tumbled from my tongue. My insides flushed over with energy from every and all parts both secret and public. I shoved my hips forward into his face while my fingers gripped his silky, wild hair. I could not deny real pleasure, but this was much more than simple joy.

  "Three years," Rhys mumbled against my moisture, sending a brisk breeze across me. His words traveled up to my core before racing back down again.

  Three years was a long time to have such passion bottled up. I honestly no longer believed I’d ever be so lucky to give myself away, just for the sake of love.

  "Ahhh!"

  I let go. For the emotions that had been locked away, I set aside the walls. Between the passion Rhys fed to the peekaboo region buried on the inside of my flesh, and the influx of bittersweet pain over letting go, my truth was finally able to manifest all at once. And so, I sobbed. I fought it out. He called forth my orgasm with fierce lips.

  I no longer controlled things.

  He did.

  I obeyed his command and released.

  Rhys then placed me on my feet. I was wobbly, so I rested against the top of his shoulders. He didn’t move to undress, nor to remove his shoes. His sole focus was doing what was needed to satisfy me and only me.

  All the while, I maintained a low sob. Rhys’s hands reached up to touch my face. I leaned and allowed my head to rest against him. He took the time to gently massage at the moisture drenching my cheeks.

  "Rhys..." I nibbled into his palm. "I don’t want to be without you." This time, I boldly reached up for him. My legs fell around his waist. The roughness of his clothes should’ve made it uncomfortable to continue, especially against my nakedness, but I didn't care. We’d spent a tremendous amount of time staving off our love. That was no longer an option. We pressed on to a new era, a new life, a new love in the here and now.

  XLIV.

  Rhys

  ~

  Days had passed since Chanel re-entered my life. There were times when I’d awaken just to confirm she was still by my side. She'd gotten away from me before. This time, I sure as hell wouldn’t let her get away. She was everything to me, more than anything in this entire world.

  I approached the smaller office, more content than any time before. Since the scene from the meeting, no one had really said much, and it kinda made sense since I'd only gone back to the office once. To make me seem like "the boss", I always had stacks of proposals awaiting my final signature. I imagined Rupert had final say over this business, though I now "controlled" the daily functions.

  "Good morning," I said loudly. The associates busied themselves, rushing around like judgment day. That could only mean one thing. Without delay, I moved swiftly to my office.

  "Rhys," Rupert enunciated, hissing the final syllable when I stepped over the threshold.

  "Rupert," I replied. Since the temperature outside was comfortable enough for me to wear a button down and sweater, when his eyes passed over my attire, I braced for the reaction.

  "Can I speak candidly?"

  I nodded. He'd never asked before, so why start now, I considered saying.

  "Please close the door."

  I did, then strolled over to secure my seat at the opposite end of the desk. Lifting my right arm, I signaled him to take a free one. To my surprise, he did.

  "Over the past several days, your mother and I have decided to reign in control of the firm." Standing up, he brushed at the navy slacks of his suit. He then kicked a leg outward.

  "What does this mean?"

  "You mean to ask what does it mean for you, right son?"

  "Well, yes. And what does Lisle have to do with your business?"

  Silence passed between the two of us. I began counting the seconds until the time reached a minute. I considered standing up, but couldn’t decide why. He had always been the one to carry the conversation.

  "Is everything all right?"

  Without turning to face me, he began in a softer than usual tone, "I've lost much."

  I found myself contemplating the waver in his tone. My lips parted, but damn. I wasn’t sure where to begin. He was usually the one with the gumption. Sure, I knew how to step up. This was a different Rupert, one I wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

  "You're by far one of the most successful businessmen I've ever known." Then standing to my feet I added, "We've come a hell of a long way."

  "Yes, son, our relationship has." Rupert motioned with his head followed by a nod. "Take a seat."

  I didn’t hesitate. Whatever was going on had him boggled down. As I prepared to give him my undivided attention, my mind flashed back to making love to Chanel. I drew in a full breath of air only to exhale with a smile. I swear, it wasn't intentional.

  "What's her name?" Rupert asked. I couldn’t quite make out if the blank glaze settling on his pupils was sincere or not. He leaned to the back of the chair in a consider
ate type of way. Since the Maggie debacle, we hadn’t spoken about my love life. Sure, there was Jen and the accident, but nothing worth dwelling on.

  "Chanel Bissett," I announced.

  "Interesting name..."

  It was at the tip of my tongue to pry about his statement. I didn’t. Instead, I drew to the edge of my seat. My fingertips rested on the desk. Along the sides of my head, veins began throbbing.

  "Your mother and I have had issues over the course of our marriage." Rupert was tap dancing around something. "Your happiness matters more than anything in this world."

  I was a second away from shouting for him to get it out. His words were all over the place, his behavior frustrating, and I almost got the feeling he was patronizing me.

  "Please, I'm an adult. Don't speak at me, neither down on me. Be real. Open your mouth and let the words flow." Stretching my legs beneath the cherry oak desk, I coaxed my energies away from the gazillion and one strands of hair racing along my skin.

  "Before I go any further, just know–"

  "No! Just say whatever the hell you need to say." Within a second, I formed fists and slammed onto the open surface of the desk.

  "We need to maintain a certain level of purity." I wasn’t initially sure of the meaning behind his sentence. It was like the letters were becoming words before my eyes.

  "Purity? What the hell do you mean?"

  "You know, son, this is a touchy subject."

  "If you would refrain from speaking in code, maybe then things will connect."

  "Any direct way will only take the compassion from my concerns."

  "Either you level with me, or this conversation is over." I made wide strides to reach the door. My arm was stretched out while I was settled and ready to turn the knob.

  "This girl is African American, isn't she?"

  I spun quickly. The room damn near contracted from every angle. Beads of sweat instantly formed along my forehead as darkness swarmed all around. A bitterness settled at the pit of my stomach. I was about a second away from emptying the contents.