by L. B. Dunbar
His eyes were closed when I looked up, but slowly he opened them. He froze me with that look again. The gleam he gave me after he finished working me. I didn’t recognize the expression, but my heart skipped a beat at its intensity.
“Was that okay?” I asked sheepishly, a slow smile crossing my lips at the look of satisfaction on his face.
“Lesson two. Never ask. And never let anyone ask you. If he asks, he didn’t do it right, and Ireland,” he stared at me, his face falling into seriousness, “if he hurts you, he is definitely not doing it right.”
I continued to stare at him, keeping him in focus, so my mind would not wander where I didn’t want it to go.
“Oh, and Ireland,” he added. “Since you did ask, I want you to know that was perfect. Just like you.”
Lesson two, I thought, was an addendum to lesson one. There was no way to prevent heartbreak with this man.
Chapter 19
[Tristan]
And risking all, left love to bloom.
I suggested we swim again to clean up. We held each other as we twirled in the water then fell within the protected canopy in a tumble of legs and arms, collapsing into a much-needed sleep in the warm afternoon air.
When I awoke, Ireland was still wrapped around me. As promised this morning, there was no means of escaping me. I was cocooned around her, as she was around me, and I breathed in her scent of salt water and sunshine. A revelation came to me as I stared at her earlier, after working her with my mouth. I was falling for her.
She was unlike any woman I’d ever known. She was open and honest, trusting me with her secrets. Whenever the time might be, I knew letting her go was going to be difficult. I had a foreboding sense it was going to end sooner, rather than later. I hoped I’d have enough time to get to know her, all of her, before the clock finished ticking. I didn’t like giving her lessons for another man. Images began to haunt me of her doing things with another man to please him, or another man trying to please her. I wanted to be the only one she pleased, and the only one to please her.
Thoughts like that were trouble. I needed to remind myself that as much as I enjoyed distracting her from her fateful future, she was distracting me, too. I had too much to deal with once I returned home. I’d spoken to Kaye again last night, who confirmed that it was Arturo King coming out of a rehab center in Portland. He looked healthy enough. That hopeful feeling returned that the band could get through, whatever it needed to get through, and get back on track with the third album.
That night when Ireland and I returned to the house, I turned on the surround sound system. I was able to set my iPod to shuffle and the music projected softly to the patio. I waited for her, as she went to shower after we shared a take-out dinner from the outdoor bar down the street. We finally had the burgers we both had craved the night before.
Dressed in a linen shirt, unbuttoned to my abs and long khaki shorts, I casually stood looking out at the dark ocean. The inky sky blended with the silky water. I appreciated its simplicity and quiet. It reminded me of Ireland. She was complicated, yet simple in her needs. She was quiet, yet a trapped goddess. The darkness was actually tender like Ireland, which was her most endearing trait.
I sensed her before I saw her and turned to see a vision standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the open door. Her hair was loose, and wet, and she wore another dress, this one in white, clung casually over her thin body. Her blue eyes gleamed against the white of her eyes, which was accentuated by her tan face and light freckles. I’d noticed earlier in the day she might have gained a little weight on this hidden holiday. I didn’t mind it, though. She was too thin.
The music switched to a song with more pop to it, and I asked her to dance. I needed to hold her again.
“This song isn’t for dancing,” she laughed, as she wrinkled her nose at me.
“Does it matter? I can’t really dance anyway.”
“Yes, you can.” She smiled as she let her hands slide up my chest to rest around my neck. My arms wrapped loosely around her lower back, and I pulled her against me. The song sang about an island getaway and my mind wandered. She was my sun and I was the sand. I was drifting, and she was lighting the way for my travel out of the darkness. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to let her go. I reminded myself again that I had to but not yet.
I made a big display of dancing with her. Taking one of her hands in mine, I paced her in a small circle before spinning her away from me only to tug her back into my chest. She giggled, and at that moment, I’d never been happier. Her bright sapphire eyes looked up at me and she smiled. My hand on her hip made her sway with me in another slow circle before I dipped her slightly to kiss her neck. When I pulled her upward, her eyes stayed fixed on mine. She wanted me, I was certain. I wanted her.
I wouldn’t give in, though. I convinced myself that if I did things with her, but never took her virginity, we were safe. We hadn’t done anything wrong if we experimented and experienced each other without giving in to having sex. I would keep everything to hands and lips, and no other body parts in my lessons.
My resolve lasted the rest of the week. We had spent each day compatibly with exercise, her homework, my practice, and time in the sun and surf. We discovered other places along the shore to see the beautiful wildlife under the sea. We found places along the beach to eat and drink under the tropical night sky. We danced on the shore in the dark, and each night we shared her bed. I refused to sleep without her, and starting with the night we danced on the patio, I invited myself to her bed to hold her every night. I’d kiss her passionately, and learn each curve and crevice of her body with my fingers, hands, and lips. I hadn’t dry-humped so much since I was a young teenager. At times throughout the day, I’d have to take a break from her to relieve myself, but I was content to keep things the way they were.
On Thursday, I surprised Ireland with a tropical tour of the lush protected plant life. It wasn’t my thing, though, and I planned it for her alone. I figured she would get more out of the experience by herself, anyway, and she could ask numerous questions of the private guide. The day included lunch and I added a spa treatment for her when it was all done. It was a perfect girl’s day, or so I thought.
I might have had ulterior motives in wanting time away from her. I needed to separate myself from getting too close to her. I had a constant internal fight between wanting her and needing to let her go. I also had a Skype conference scheduled with Lansing to discuss the band and the song I was writing. I needed the time alone to discuss what I was feeling for Ireland.
“You don’t want to go with me?” Her voice was filled with concern, in the morning, when I presented her with the plan.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, but it’s not my thing. The plants, you know. So I thought you’d like the day to enjoy the island and do some girlie things, like a pedicure or massage.” I smiled, but her face still looked uncertain.
“If you wanted to be alone, you could have just told me,” she said softly, accusatorily. “I know you’ve actually been working, and I suppose you’d be working more, if I wasn’t in the way.”
I stepped toward her. “You aren’t in my way. I thought it would be nice for you. Aren’t you sick of me?” I laughed, but held my breath. She didn’t respond at first.
“I’m not sick of you,” she replied quietly like she was puzzled over the idea. Her eyes matched the weak smile displayed on her lips. She changed her expression. “I am appreciative, though. It was really thoughtful of you to plan this for me.”
I leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Have fun. You’ll like it,” I reassured her.
What I didn’t count on was how much I would miss her throughout the day. We had spent practically every hour, within each day, together for over two weeks. I wasn’t sure what to do without her. I was sorry by midmorning that I hadn’t gone with her and sucked up how boring it might have been for me to look at plants. At least I would have
been with her. I could have had a drink at the resort bar, where she was scheduled for the pedicure and massage, and waited for her.
After lunchtime, I Skyped Lansing to play my songs. I’d written two even though we needed only one.
“What do you think?”
“Genius, man,” Lansing said, his blue eyes proving he was serious.
We were silent for a moment, as I studied my friend through the computer screen.
“Dude, are you alright?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just a lot going on here. And this shit with Arturo. I’m just…I’m tired. Tired of worrying and fighting,” Lansing sighed.
“Huh,” Tristan laughed, “he’s going to find out Lansing.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’m more worried about Lila. I don’t want to lose her when this shit gets heavy.”
Lansing had gone too far with one woman, only to get involved with another, which was deadly. But the issues over Guinevere could be the death of the band. Then there was this new girl, Lila, who had a child. I wasn’t really a fan of her.
“Dude, what have you been up to?” I laughed.
Lansing looked nervously away from me before he replied. He ran his hands through his long bangs to wipe the hair from his eyes.
“When you coming home?” He changed the subject.
“Good avoidance. You can tell me,” I suggested, full of concern.
“Nah, it can wait. So how’s the tropics? Find an island queen?”
I bit my lips to hide my smile.
“Something like that, but it’s nothing really.”
“It never is with you,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. He leaned closer to the computer screen, making the camera zoom in on his face. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” I growled.
“Man, you are. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“I gotta go,” I laughed.
“No one writes songs like that without inspiration. I know.” Lansing’s eyes opened wide. “Are you in love with this island beauty?”
“No. Of course not. No, definitely not in love. Love is painful.”
Lansing laughed. “Are you trying to convince me or you?”
I didn’t reply.
“Seriously, when are you coming home, man? And are you bringing the beauty with you? I got to meet the woman who stops The Heartbreaker.” Lansing raised his hand into the cameras view and air quoted.
“Did you just air quote?” I laughed, trying to change the subject.
“Look who’s avoiding now?”
Was I avoiding an answer? Could I bring Ireland home with me? Could I convince her that I would take care of her, and she should forget the other man? Could I convince her that she could take care of herself and didn’t need a man? I wasn’t sure.
“It’s complicated, man.”
“It always is with love,” Lansing paused and smiled sheepishly. “Okay, dude. Nice songs. Come home soon.”
“See ya.” I clicked off the Skype.
I’d missed a text from Ireland as I finished my face time with Lansing and continued to think about whether I could convince her to go home with me.
Staying longer. There’s an early evening tour to watch the flowers close. Promised it would be worth the wait. Offered me drinks and light dinner, so eat without me. See you later and thanks again. x
My heart sank. She’d had such a good time without me that she was staying away longer. I definitely should have gone with her to experience her excitement. I should have gone with her to show her I supported her interest. Maybe that’s why her face fell this morning. By not going with her, I might have made it seem like I wasn’t into her and what she liked, which could not be more opposite from the truth. I was enjoying everything about her: her excitement at her learning, her encouragement of my playing, her laughter, her kisses, her eagerness. I stared at the ‘x’ after the message. It seemed like something that lovers would share with one another.
It was well into the early dark evening when Ireland finally arrived home. I remained in my room. I’d grown more upset as the time passed. She had been gone all day; almost ten hours when it was supposed to only be a few. Minutes felt like days passing between her entrance to her room and her presence outside mine. I heard a soft knock on my door. My voice was full of anger, instead of the calm I wanted to portray when I told her to enter.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Did I wake you?” she asked, as she looked around the dark room. The curtains were still pulled closed like they had been since the day I arrived. I was sitting on the bed with my back propped up against the headboard and my guitar across my lap. I was playing in the dark, hoping to sooth myself from the ache for her to return.
“No,” I grumbled to my guitar, not looking up at her at first. She walked over to the curtains and in a forceful tug, opened them. Bright light illuminated her and my breath caught as I took in her beauty. Her blonde hair was luminescent. Her eyes closed as she tilted her face to the window as if drinking in the light. Her cami-top exposed her skin, and it glistened in the brightness. She stood as if she was taking strength from the moonlight. She absolutely glowed like a creature from another world. She was gorgeous.
She asked me to come to her. I set my guitar on the bed and swung my legs off the side to stand. As I walked up behind her, I saw the most amazing full moon. It was low and large in the sky, shining brightly, and giving the water below a bluish streak leading to the shore. It was mythical looking and unworldly.
“You seem angry,” she said softly to the moonlight.
“You were gone a long time today.”
“You sent me away. I thought you wanted to be alone.”
“I didn’t send you away. I wanted to give you a day to yourself.”
“I would have liked to share it with you,” her voice remained quiet.
I couldn’t answer. I should have gone with her. I’d missed her throughout the day.
“I probably shouldn’t say this,” she swallowed, “but I had a wonderful day.”
I hung my head. I was inches from her bare shoulder and I longed to kiss it. I longed to kiss her.
“But I missed you all day,” she added on a whisper, as she squinted into the moonlight.
I let out a slow breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I missed you too,” I said honestly. My hands came up to her luminescent shoulders. Briefly caressing her glowing skin, my fingers cascaded down her arms to entwine with hers. I tugged her back to lean against me and her head fell to the side to rest on my shoulder. I kissed her neck.
“Can I ask you something? To do something for me?” she whispered. Her voice was ragged as she continued to stare at the bright orb in the dark sky.
“Anything,” I breathed against her neck and kissed her. As long as it didn’t involve separating from her, I thought. I felt her throat swallow under my lips.
“Make love to me.”
My lips froze on her shoulder.
“Not because it’s a lesson. Or treat it as if it’s a lesson, if that’s the only way you can make it through this with me. But please, please don’t reject me.”
A tear streaked down her cheek. The moonlight watched it roll sadly off her jaw.
“What’s this?” I asked softly in her ear then kissed it. My finger traced the trail of the tear.
“I…I just need to know. Know what it’s like to be with you. To be us.”
I turned her to face me and placed both my hands on her cheeks.
“I want nothing more than to make love to you.”
“Really?” her voiced squeaked hopefully.
“Really.”
My resolve was gone. I kissed her softly, so softly my lips hardly touched hers, but her hands came to my chest. She gripped my t-shirt in two fists, pulling me toward her. She was the temptress infused by moonlight, and immediately she took over. Despite the tremble I felt in her body, her lips came to mine, and she worked my mouth with hers.
She sucked gently on my bottom lip and I opened with a moan, which allowed her tongue entrance to mine. I didn’t complain, as I grabbed her hips and tugged her against me. Her arms slipped up my shoulders and around my neck. She used this position to leverage herself up my taller frame, and I lifted her, as well, by her hips. Her legs wrapped around me, and I turned so I could lay her on the bed.
She wasn’t letting go of me and we tumbled to the mattress, bouncing once in the fall. She laughed and I pulled back to smooth back her hair.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
She answered me by kissing me. Her mouth softened slightly and she melted against my body. Our legs entwined and arms held us close, as we continued to kiss before I broke off her lips to travel down her jaw. I nipped her neck and shoulder juncture. She moaned, pressing her warm center against me.
I laid her back with the press of my body and used my hands to push her shirt upward, kissing her flat stomach until I reached her breasts. Helping her sit up slightly, I removed the cami shirt, and she reached for me afterward to push off my t-shirt. I slipped my hand behind her and unclasped her bra with two fingers, without looking. She had marveled at this move the first time I did it. I shrugged it off at the time, flippantly saying, “Experience.”
Tonight did not involve my experience, though. While I physically knew what I was doing, mentally my thoughts scattered with the beating of my heart. Tonight was not going to be like other nights for me.
The position of bare chest to bare breasts was not new to us. We had done this throughout the week in our discovery of each other, but tonight it all seemed different to me. As I saw her body laid out on my bed, under the streaks of moonlight, I realized I was seeing her in a whole new way. We weren’t experimenting. This was not a lesson I was teaching her. I was learning. Learning from her what it felt to be desired.
Her soft moans and deep sighs gave it away. Her hands, which never left my skin, seared where she touched me. Her lips massaged mine and moved to my chest. She wanted me. Not because I was a bass guitarist, but because of me. She knew me. She had picked up on what I liked. She ran her tongue over my nipple and sucked it into her mouth as she slid her hands into my shorts. She pulled back abruptly when she realized I didn’t have on underwear.