by Haymore, J.
“Harder, Kanoe. Harder.”
He slammed into my body. He gripped my behind, squeezing my butt hard, pulling me against him with every thrust.
I wrapped my legs around him, wanting him to penetrate me as deeply as possible. The angle of his cock stroking me inside made the most exquisite sensation mixed with the soft pain of the depth of his penetration.
I found myself on the edge of a deep, vast chasm. I couldn’t believe it.
“No…” I moaned, beginning to topple, scared that I wouldn’t survive it. “Not again. No, no!”
Arching my back, I came again, crashing into him, tightening, clenching, then rippling over him, tugging him even deeper into my body.
He groaned out my name and thrust harder, his hips moving fast, then he followed me over the edge.
Day Ten
Kanoe
I sat in the driver’s seat of my truck, leaning my head against the headrest, my eyes closed. Celeste had gone ahead to return the convertible, and she would meet me at check-in.
It never took long to return a rental car in Hilo, so I’d have to get out of the truck soon. First I wanted to get my head straight, get myself ready to watch her go without losing my mind, or at least my pride.
The morning had been pretty close to disastrous. Instead of enjoying our last hours together, we had spent them in increasing tension. Celeste was flighty and disorganized. I had sat at the table drinking her overly strong coffee and watching her flit around the house, fighting a growing feeling of…what was it? Anger. Why her flightiness had made me angry was a question I couldn’t answer.
I couldn’t be angry now—I didn’t want her last memory of me to be negative. Nor could I drop down on my knees and beg her to stay. I had to do something safely in the middle. Be strong and supportive, help her with her luggage, say the right things, give her a kiss good-bye that she’d feel on her lips all the way home.
Breaking down and begging her to stay was out of the question. I’d almost done it last night when we were making love, thinking I saw some reciprocation of my feelings in her eyes. But then I’d blinked and they’d gone away.
Truth was, she had never given me any real evidence that this meant more to her. She’d told asshole Mike there was someone else, she’d admitted the feelings were strong and new, but never once had she implied that she’d like it to go on, or that she felt anything beyond strong sexual attraction and compatibility.
Not that I’d given any overt hints of my feelings either. My pride couldn’t have taken it if she’d laughed in my face, or tried to soothe me with sex, or grown distant.
Spotting her crossing the street toward the terminal—she wore a hot-pink tank top and a white skirt today and was impossible to miss—I took a couple of deep breaths, got out of the truck, and hurried to catch up to her.
Hearing me approach, she turned and smiled. “Hey there. I missed you.”
Meaning she missed me because I’d driven my truck from the house and she’d driven the convertible? If that were the case, she’d be missing me a lot more in the upcoming hours.
“Let me get those for you.” I grabbed the handles of her two small suitcases.
We got her baggage x-rayed at the agriculture check, then stood silently in the check-in line. I fought a growing sense of panic. This was really happening. She’d come into my life ten days ago, turned it upside down, and now she was leaving. How could I go on as I had before, knowing she existed, no matter how far away?
“I could visit,” I said suddenly.
Her gaze snapped to mine, surprise evident in her face. “Yes. That would be…great.”
No it wouldn’t. What was I thinking? It would be as difficult, as strained, as this moment. Visits weren’t what I wanted.
We reached the front of the line, and the check-in woman took Celeste’s luggage away. I fought the urge to lunge for it, to explain that it was all a mistake, that she wasn’t going on today’s flight after all. I was so busy staring at her disappearing luggage, I almost missed the woman saying the flight would board in twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes. And she still had to get through security. We walked toward the short security line, and I felt my feet dragging. I couldn’t go to the gate—I’d have to leave her here. I’d have to say good-bye in front of all these people.
We stopped at the back of the line.
“I have to leave you here.”
Her eyes shone, and I pressed my lips together, swallowing before I spoke. “I know.”
I’d go flying. By myself. No tours were planned for this morning. I’d had enough foresight to bring the keys to the helicopter; they were in my pocket along with my wallet, cell phone and…a condom.
With one hand spreading over her lower back and the other pulling her toward me by the nape, I bent down and pressed my body against her, knowing she would feel my hard-on through our clothes. She angled her head toward mine, and her eyes fluttered shut.
I kissed the side of her mouth, the side that always quirked up when she thought something was funny. I flicked my tongue over her lips, so soft and sweet. Then she parted her lips, and I dove in.
The world narrowed down to our kiss. It was fragile and temporary, but it was all I had. It could sustain me for the rest of my life, if she’d only stay.
Someone nearby cleared his throat, and I broke away, turning on the person with clenched fists. But it was just an old man, and we were blocking the line through security.
“Sorry,” I muttered, leading her out of the way.
I stopped at the edge of the rocky Japanese garden that separated the two ends of the terminal. This side was crowded, busy with scheduled flights. The other side, the home of Royal Hawaiian Helicopter Tours and other charter and tour companies, was deserted this morning. It was too early for tour flights.
I turned toward her, grasping her shoulders. Her green eyes glistened as she looked up at me, and a flush spread over her cheekbones.
I stared at her, fighting the demands of my body, fighting the compulsion to collapse to my knees and beg her to stay. My cock pulsed angrily and I clenched my teeth, my resistance weakening, my desperation increasing.
“Kanoe…” Her voice sounded as strained as I felt.
“I can’t,” I groaned. “I’ve got to have you before…” I grasped her wrist and yanked her along behind me. I strode around the far end of the Japanese garden, where the wall curved. We’d be hidden from the people in the terminal just beyond.
Behind the corner, I pushed her into the wall, and she dropped her carry-on and slid her arms around me. I shoved my hand under her skirt and thrust it between her legs, ripping aside her panties.
With my other hand, I fumbled with the Velcro on my board shorts.
She was hot and slick, dripping wet. I let out a harsh breath. The shorts opened, I took the condom from my pocket. She snatched it out of my hands, tore it open, and rolled it down over my rock-hard cock, squeezing hard from tip to base.
Biting my lower lip, she raised her eyes to mine.
Forcing my hand to leave her slippery wetness, I grabbed her beneath her ass and lifted her over me. She clutched my shoulders. “Wrap your legs around me,” I muttered hoarsely.
She gripped me with her thighs, and I pulled her down, entering her in one swift, hard movement. She gasped.
Don’t leave.
I couldn’t say it. Instead, I pounded into her, driving her back against the smooth cement wall.
Stay.
I thrust into her with all the power contained in my tense body, crushing her between myself and the wall, letting all my anguish pool and flow into her.
Be with me, Celeste.
I bent down to kiss her. But it wasn’t anything so gentle as a kiss. I ravaged her mouth, sucking and biting, tasting the coppery flavor of blood.
Don’t go, ku’u nani.
“Hold on. Don’t let go,” I grated out. It was a command and a plea at the same time, and she clutched me tighter, her fingernail
s digging into my skin.
My thrusts quickened, became jerky and uneven. Then I drove her body down onto mine and came, grinding her into me.
It had lasted seconds—a minute at most.
Her thighs slipped out of my hands, and her weight transferred to the ground. I slid out of her.
She was looking down, smoothing out her skirt. When she glanced up, I saw a thin line of blood running down the side of her mouth.
“Shit.” I wiped it with my thumb, then with the edge of my shirt. “I’m sorry.”
She gripped my wrists, pressed her body against mine. “It’s okay. Can’t you see that I wanted…I needed…?” Her voice trailed off.
I shook my head, unable to speak. The next words out of my mouth would either be something even more self-deprecating or something that would make me sound like a complete gutless fucking pussy.
Voices sounded nearby, a couple admiring the Japanese garden.
She dropped my hands and stepped back. “Well, they’re going to board soon.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’d better get over there. Go through security.”
“Okay.”
I grabbed her bag, and we walked back to the security line in silence, my arm around her shoulders, hers around my waist. When we reached the line, Celeste handed the woman her boarding pass and then turned to me. “This is it.”
“Yeah.” My throat was so tight, I could hardly speak.
“I’ll call you when I get in.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going flying?”
Funny that she knew. We hadn’t talked about it. “Yeah. Think so.”
“Well. Have fun.”
I kissed her on the lips, a gentle, closemouthed kiss, and handed her the carry-on.
“Good-bye, Kanoe.” She slipped beneath my arm and walked away, not looking back.
I stumbled away, blindly making my way across the terminal. It took me a while to get the door to the tarmac open, and then I fumbled with the helicopter door. Once inside, I let myself melt into the seat, brushing a hard forearm over my watery eyes. From here, I could see the sun glinting off Celeste’s plane, which sat docilely at the other end of the terminal, probably already receiving its passengers via the Jetway.
She hadn’t even looked at me when she’d said good-bye.
A sudden masochistic idea overtook me. I’d go flying, but I’d watch the airport from afar, watch her plane take off, then follow it out to sea for a while. Sort of a painful, final good-bye.
With misery tightening every nerve in my body, I grimly started the preflight.
Celeste
They delayed the flight half an hour. I was furious. It was another half hour I could have spent with him. Instead, I was alone in the waiting area, the words on my e-reader blurring, my thoughts jumping frantically from one thing to another, but always returning back to Kanoe.
Hiwa was right. Letting him go had been hard. The hardest thing I’d done in my life.
And I could not look forward with any pleasant anticipation to what was ahead of me. Making partner seemed pointless. How would it fulfill me? After Kanoe, how could anything fulfill me?
Finally, the woman at the counter called for my group to board.
I looked down at my ticket. Was I really going to do this? Get on the plane and leave him behind?
What other choice did I have?
I rose heavily, plodded toward the door, and waited behind a family with a bunch of kids, all of them laughing and happy, excited about their trip. The mom was white like me, and the dad dark, maybe Hawaiian or Filipino, with a tattoo on his arm. The kids were beautiful, exotic, their skin a soft light brown.
My throat constricted as I handed the woman my ticket.
“Going home?” said the woman, flashing a smile at me.
“Home?” I asked distractedly. “Yes, I guess so.”
I followed the family to the Jetway. Pausing at one of the windows, I peered down the terminal and saw the empty parking spot of Kanoe’s helicopter. He was already flying, probably working out some of the tension caused by this morning’s high emotion. I hoped he healed quickly. More quickly than me, anyway, because I wouldn’t be healing for a long time to come.
Why, oh why, was I torturing myself? Why not just stay with him?
He hadn’t invited me to stay. Even if he had, the whole idea was totally irrational and impractical. I didn’t have a job here, no connections, no family or friends. At this point, I didn’t even have any clothes.
I had a life in Los Angeles. A great, rewarding career. A great apartment. And a growing savings account, which I now knew would be my down payment for a house on the ocean.
You could have a house on the ocean for free if you stayed…
Stop it! I silently screamed at the voice in my head. I didn’t know for sure he wanted me in that way. If he wanted something long-term with me. Hiwa had only said he was falling in love with me. But love could be a fleeting emotion, couldn’t it? Not having any prior experience with it, I couldn’t say for sure.
I groaned, leaning my forehead against the window. What was I doing, clinging so heartily to the words of Kanoe’s ex-fiancée? I was too stupid to live. Kanoe himself had never told me he loved me. If he had, then maybe things would be different. But after he’d taken me so roughly up against the wall in the airport and given me hope that he was hurting as much as I was, he’d let me go.
“Good-bye, beautiful island,” I whispered, pressing my hand to the windowpane. It was sunny today, with puffy white clouds dotting a blue, blue sky.
I dragged my body down the Jetway, hefted my carry-on into the overhead bin, and sank into the seat, rubbing my still-swollen lips with my fingertips. He’d kissed me so hard, one of my teeth had punctured the inside of my lower lip. I slid my tongue over it. It was nothing, a scratch.
Hopefully I’d fall asleep and dream the nightmare of leaving him away. And then when I woke up, I’d be back in L.A. with a million things to do, too busy to dwell on what I’d left behind.
Kanoe, with his dimples and tattoo and washboard abs. Kanoe, with his fierce passion and gentle words. Kanoe, with all his pride and ambition, his possessiveness and strength.
You dumbass, Celeste. You stupid, brainless idiot. You have just made the most idiotic move of your entire life. You walked away from the man you love. You love him a thousand times more than anything you ever had in L.A.
The flight attendant closed the airplane’s door.
I burst into tears.
Kanoe
I had probably circled the airport a hundred times, but her plane still hadn’t taken off. The tower was getting fed up with me. I was tired, spent. And the helicopter’s gas tank hadn’t been full to begin with and was getting alarmingly close to empty now.
I called the tower for permission to land. As I approached, Celeste’s plane began to taxi toward the runway. So much for my plans.
As my eyes skimmed the airport, I saw a flash of pink, and my pulse quickened. A person, standing in the bright sunlight outside the terminal. But it couldn’t be Celeste—she was on the airplane, which was now poised at the end of the runway, waiting for me to land before the tower would give it permission to take off.
I landed the helicopter and powered it off, then watched Celeste’s plane roar down the runway.
My stomach was twisted into knots. I should’ve begged her to stay. If I had, my pride would most likely be ground into dust, but at least I could say I tried. And there was that small chance, that tiny little morsel of possibility, that the look in her eyes last night had been real. She might have said yes.
For some time, I sat in the stifling, moist heat inside my helicopter, cursing myself, breathing in her vanilla-and-sugar scent. Her fragrance had come from me, from all the parts of me that had touched her today, and now flooded the helicopter.
I gathered up the energy to get out. I’d go surfing. No, it’d be too lonely without her. I’d go home and mope inste
ad. No, I’d do some paperwork and maybe work on a blog if I could muster the energy.
It was back to my life. Why didn’t that entice me? Before Celeste, I loved my life, considered it useful, important.
I closed up the helicopter and walked out into the open-air terminal. The first thing I’d do when I got home would be to take a hot shower, try to get the smell of her off me. Then maybe I could focus on something besides missing her.
Suddenly, a pink vision stood before me, haloed by the bright sun. I staggered backward. The breath left my body with a whoosh.
It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
She took a step toward me and came into focus. She looked terrible—bedraggled and tear-streaked—but she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Celeste—” I gasped. No. No, she couldn’t be back for me. It was impossible, too much to hope for. I gestured wildly in the direction of the runway. “What happened? Your plane just— You missed it!”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t miss it. I jumped up screaming when they closed the door, so they let me off.”
I was dizzy. My head was spinning. “But what…why? Are you…? Wha…?”
“They made me go into this back office and talk to the manager of security. They thought I was a terrorist, or at the very least, a lunatic. But the guy apparently knows you, so that helped my case.”
I collapsed onto a nearby bench. This was too much to take standing.
“I can’t leave, Kanoe.”
“But—your career, your life…”
“I don’t care. I can’t go back there. I’m going to quit. I’ll have someone ship me what I need. But I don’t care what happens to the rest. Really. Everything I want is right here.”
Her words slammed into my chest, leaving me breathless. I couldn’t speak. I stared dumbly at her.
She sat on the bench an arm’s length away from me. Clenching her hands in her lap, she started talking fast. “I’m sorry to dump on you like this. I knew you weren’t expecting it. I just—you’ve just shown me things about life I never knew were possible. And this place—I love it, you know? It’s so beautiful. Simply sitting outside here puts me at peace. I’ve lost all that crazy energy that was driving me down before, but I didn’t know was driving me down. Here, I can be human. Here, it’s okay to feel. I’ve found so much here, and I want to learn so much more, and if I leave now, I’ll lose everything I’ve gained and all the opportunity to gain more. I understand if you’re not ready for any kind of commitment or anything. I’ll get an apartment, and maybe we can date once in a while. Or not…”