“I can’t believe you can keep up with me,” he sputtered. “No one can keep up with me.”
She smiled and tried to hide how out of breath she was. “Running’s kind of my thing.”
“Well, let’s see how you do when I get to chase you.”
“No,” she wheezed. “I’ll get us lost.”
“No you won’t. You have to trust yourself. You’ll get us back. You’re smart.”
“Still. I think you should lead.”
“Nah.” He winked. “I want you to be the prey this time.”
She watched him watching her, her chest heaving, and then she turned and she darted off, back down the hillside, her feet bounding over the rubble in the trail.
After a time, she flipped her head back to see where he was. “Why haven’t you caught me yet?” she called.
“Oh, every now and then I slow up. I don’t want to catch you yet. The fun is in the chase.”
And so she ran faster. Faster and faster over the uneven terrain.
“You have a good sense of direction,” he shouted at one point. “Like a cat.”
When she had reached the valley once again, where the trail lay tight against the Cliffside, she could see the cottage, and so she began to sprint. She could hear his shoes behind her, faster and faster. His breath puffing in and out. The earth dipped low, and that’s when he caught her. Out of nowhere, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back toward him. Then he spun her and clutched her body to his. Her body leapt toward him, fierce and grinding, and he grabbed her by the back of the neck. His kiss was sudden and scintillating.
She was ready now. She knew she was. But she also knew that her first time wasn’t going to be in the middle of the damn desert.
She wrestled away from him. “Dibs on the shower,” she called, popping into a sprint.
***
Jake
She had run directly into the shower. Of course she had. Though it sure would have been hot if she’d stayed all sweaty.
She was too much. He’d never wanted any woman like he wanted her. All of her. Body, mind, soul; her attention, her devotion, her future. Everything.
Get a hold of yourself, Lassiter. Life isn’t fair and you’ve made your peace with that fact. Don’t start all over again.
The best thing about Jess was the way being with her made him forget everything. And that meant he could never tell her. If he did, that magic would go away. So they would have their fun. Together. And then he would need to deliver her back to her life. If he needed to, he would disappear…where she couldn’t find him. The memories they would create this weekend would have to be enough. They would have to be.
He sighed and plucked the champagne bottle from the watery soup that now lined the ice bucket, a few stray cubes bobbing. It was a plastic bottle, expressly prepared for enjoying in stone hot tubs, he assumed. The glasses were plastic, too. Easy to tip.
He had only three days left with Jess before it would have to end. No, just a little over two days now. And then that would be it.
He glanced at his watch. It had been more than six hours since Elizabeth had administered the last dose. He had been able to run, so far and fast, and it had felt like freedom itself. Something was working, and so he could have a little champagne. But just a little. He popped the cork from the bottle, holding it at just the right angle and capping it with a towel. Still, the champagne spurted from the top when he slid the towel away and he held his mouth over it instinctively. How he missed bubbly wine. And fine red wine. And pints of golden amber.
The shower was still going strong. What was she doing in there? He tipped the bottle into one of the plastic cups. It poured fast, and the bubbles flowed up and over the top of the glass. He was thirsty from the run, and, as he began to drink, the bubbles bit back on him. He stared now at the bathroom door and allowed himself to fantasize about what she would look like when she emerged. Pouring himself another glass, he imagined her body, naked. Her trim waist. The burgeoning swells of her breasts. Her nipples like tight rosy buds.
Before he had tossed back the second glass, he felt it. His tongue went thick and his vision began to darken, as though a black and menacing cloud was pushing through his awareness.
Shit, shit, shit. Why had he taken that drink? This was worse than before, leaving him to assume that Elizabeth had ratcheted his dosage even higher. Something about this experimental medication and the alcohol, combined. It made him crazy. Maniacal. What word had Elizabeth used in her repeated, explicit warnings… psycho?
Even at Andrew’s party, he had been a mess—a monster— because of half a beer. He remembered what Andrew looked like the morning after his bachelor party. His welted face, his broken nose. And now, the effects were snowballing even faster.
He was so close now, but he couldn’t risk it. His hands began to tremble. Shit, shit, shit. He plunked his head on the table and tried to formulate a plan, before it was too late.
He would just need to take a little break. He would go outside. Walk it off. Come back in a little bit, when whatever-this-was had worn off. It couldn’t take too long.
Jess was calling to him now from the other side of the bathroom door. The water was still running. Did he want her to join her in the shower? Could he? No. He couldn’t trust himself. Not like this.
He dashed to the notepad near the phone. “Had to run out. Stay warm until I return.” He added an XOXO, and then he bolted toward the front door and squeezed out before closing it softly and silently behind him. That’s when the darkness, which had already penetrated his vision, closed in on him. All at once, his entire body tingled, then seized up, and he collapsed. The last thing he remembered, before losing consciousness, was the smack of his head against stone.
***
Jess
The water steamed hot. It coursed over every inch of her body, streaming in rivulets across her arms, her nipples; pounding against her buttocks and the backs of her thighs.
She turned the faucet until it was nearly scorching. It blasted on her scalp and coursed down her hair. As she imagined—fantasized—about what she was about to do, something began to happen to her inside. Something secret and dark and sweet. The hunger was finally outweighing her fear.
She swallowed. Her first time was going to be with Jake Lassiter. On a bed of rose petals. She laughed. This guy really was a cliché. A cliché of cool. She laughed again, and she called to him. Just to hear his voice. No response.
What on earth was he planning out there? You never knew with him. What would meet her eyes when she swept open the bathroom door?
She switched the water off now and dried herself with a towel before sweeping her hand through the jar of body crème on the counter. Rosemary and mint. She inhaled deeply and spread it thick on her skin. Then, still naked, she plunged into the hallway to meet Jake.
An opened bottle of champagne. A scribbled note. No Jake.
She snatched at his note. He had to run out? For what?
Her breath hitched and a profound heaviness rolled through her body. How long would he be gone? The note didn’t say. She looked around for clues. Maybe she should just peek out the front door. He couldn’t be far. She padded over to it and rested her hand on the handle. No. Jake knew she was just in the shower for a quick minute. He’d be back. Probably with some amazing surprise.
She took another towel from the warmer in the bathroom and wrapped it tight around herself. Then she took what was left of the champagne, swinging the bottle between two fingers, and ventured to the shimmering, steaming pool outside, where she found another bottle waiting in an ice bucket, just like the first.
She slid into the water. So hot. Tiny bubbles formed around her skin. A smooth stone bench lined the wall of the pool just deep enough that her breasts bobbed along on the surface, and she settled here, bottle still in hand. She took a chug and looked upward. The sun had just set, and, if she squinted, she could see the stars, just winking into view.
A howl cracked t
he silence. A coyote? A wolf? Jess pressed her back against the polished stones behind her. Champagne had never tasted so good and there was something so “un-Jess-like” about chugging it straight from the bottle. She stood to retrieve the second one and settled back in, deeper into the pool this time. Her doctor-brain stepped in with its cool logic and panicky warnings, running down the dangers of drinking, alone, in a hot tub. Especially one this hot. Extreme hydration. Heart palpitations. Heat exhaustion. Dangerous increases in core body temperature. And, of course, drowning.
Jess held the bottle straight in front of her and scoffed. So innocent looking for such a death trap. There really were so many things to fear in this world, she thought, and she knew way too much about every single one. She took another long pull on the bottle, and, before long, she had successfully drowned out that nagging voice, the one that was always pushing her away from things, keeping her far from the brink and off to the side, in the shallow end of life.
Night fell and wreathed her in silence. The stars seemed to undulate toward her, as she sat staring up at them. After a time, she popped the second bottle of champagne, and she felt herself getting a tad sleepy. Her eyelids fuzzy and leaden. She pulled herself out of the water, and curled up, poolside, just for a moment. A short time later, her eyes blinked open and she realized she was still alone and she was cold. So very cold, as if her blood had turned to ice and then her eyes fluttered closed once again.
Nine
Jake
Ugh. The taste of copper. Like he had been sucking on dimes. And his head. What had happened to his head? His eyelids fluttered. Double vision. Still. Okay. Wait another minute, Jake.
He closed his eyes for a time; how long he didn’t know. When he opened them again, he forced himself to lift his head, to place his hand on his scalp. Okay, no blood. Wow. He hadn’t even made it off the front porch. His entire body was tense. He had forgotten how cold the desert could get at night.
No sound from inside. He rolled to his stomach and pushed himself up to all fours. He checked his watch. It had been hours. She was probably sound asleep by now. Sound asleep and hating him.
He swallowed and forced himself to stand, slowly, holding his head with his hand, as though it might roll off. No more alcohol for him, ever. At least as long as he was on these new meds. That stuff was brutal. Inhumane.
He slid open the door and saw the curtains billow from the back wall. He tiptoed past the bedroom, but the bed hadn’t been touched. All of those rose petals, dispensing the virginal scent of romance, untouched.
Where was she? He pounded toward the back patio. Oh, sweet Jess. Naked on the cold stone floor. Two bottles. At least she had pulled herself out. But she was pale. One heel still dangled in the water.
God, what must her body temperature be? Should he dunk her once again, to warm her quickly? What would that do to her heart? No. He plucked her from the tile, cradling her in his arms, tight against his chest, and he carried her to the bedroom. Balancing, he raised one leg high and pushed back the covers with his foot. Then he nestled her deep inside.
He watched her, breathing hard, until she blinked her eyes open. Then she fluttered them closed once more.
Jake stripped off his clothes, hurriedly, and spooned tight against her, kissing at the top of her head, over and over and whispering, “Please be okay, Jess. Please be okay.”
“You left me,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” he said, tears welling behind his eyelids. “I promise. Tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.”
When her breath began to deepen, and he trusted that she was deep in sleep, he stroked her head, and he began to whisper. There were so many things he wanted to tell her; so many things he couldn’t. He buried his hand in her gloriously tousled hair, and he whispered, low, “I’m so sorry, Jess. I’m sorry it has to be this way. I wish I could tell you… but it would make no difference anyway. So we have to live for today. For two more perfect days. Two more beautiful, perfect days.”
***
Jess
The textbooks were right. Drink too much champagne in a hot tub, and you wake up in a state of acute cephalalgia, otherwise known as the feeling that a meat cleaver had been delivered, straight through the center of your skull.
The sun was too bright. She squeezed her eyes shut. How had she come to be in the bed? Mr. Wonderful must have come back at some point after all.
His face swam before her eyes then. “Good morning, beautiful. I think you’re going to want this.” He thrust a glass of water toward her.
She pressed her lips flat and struggled to a sitting position.
“How are you feeling?” His tone was bright and cheerful, his eyes beaming with hopefulness, as though he hadn’t abandoned her the night before. “I was just about to wake you. I have a perfect day planned for us.”
She scowled. “What happened to you last night? Where did you go?”
“Yeah…sorry about that.” He looked at the floor. “I was…putting the final touches on our plans for today, and I got delayed.”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound right. What was going on?
“We have only about ten minutes before our first appointment, so let’s get up.”
“Where are we going?”
“Can I say that it’s a surprise?”
She groaned and flopped back down in the bed, which she discovered to be a mistake. The pain in the back of her neck traveled up, up over the crown of her head where it reverberated for a moment, sending shockwaves through her sinuses.
“Okay, no more surprises,” he said. “We’re going to the mud pits. It’s my first stop any time I visit this place.”
“Mud pits?”
“Yes. It’s an experience you won’t forget.”
“Are you going to leave me there?”
“Of course not, Jess. I’m sorry. I’m… sorry. Just, please get ready? You’ll love this.”
She forced herself to sit up, then. She pulled the sheet over her chest and finally met his eyes.
“Thanks, Jess,” he said, retreating to the kitchen and closing the bedroom door softly behind him. She swung her legs to the side of the bed and stood slowly, tottering for a moment. The room blared in and out and she felt a wave of nausea. How much had she had to drink? The glass of water was already helping. She just needed a couple more of those, and she might feel like the living again.
She rifled through her suitcase for the bathing suit Jake had bought for her at the airport. Not surprisingly, Jess thought, it was incredibly tiny. The kind of suit her grandmother would have described as “two corks and a Band-Aid.” She thought about Grandma now. Was she worried? How Jess wished she had brought her phone, just to check in. To let Grandma know she was safe. She was safe, wasn’t she?
A thump at the bedroom door. “Almost ready?”
She wriggled into the jeans he had bought for her. A dark wash, tight. But they would do. Next, she slid on the breezy gingham button down top. Both pieces were entirely different from anything she would have picked out for herself. Grandma would not be pleased.
Jess opened the door then, trying not to notice the way Jake’s eyes moved up and down the length of her body, but her stomach lurched in spite of herself. The cart had already arrived in front of the house to take them to the main spa area, where a petite brunette stood waiting. She snaked her way through a series of stone walls and stopped just before an elliptical pool of bubbling, simmering mud.
“I will retrieve you in two hours’ time,” she whispered. “Please be mindful that this is a public area and there may be children present.” She flashed her eyes at Jake, who nodded and grinned. Then the woman disappeared, leaving them alone.
“I’ll slather your entire body,” Jake said. “Then you’ll do me, and we’ll bake in the sun.”
“And what does this do for us?” Jess asked. Her head was still pounding.
Jake laughed and looked at her sideways, as though the answer to her ques
tion was obvious. He held her gaze for a moment, and then he said, “It helps your body to release toxins. You will be glowing from head to toe when we’re done.”
“Does it cure a hangover?”
“Well, it can’t hurt. Plus it will get you relaxed and ready for the next bit of action I have planned for you today.”
An image flashed through her mind, then, of the two of them, back in the room. His naked body hulking over her. What did the next bit of action entail?
Jess turned away then and removed her clothing, folding it on the chair, and adjusting the twin triangles of her swimsuit top. She glanced back at him and watched his eyes run over her.
“Good God,” he said. “You look… amazing.”
She flushed and looked downward. “How do we do this? Where do I stand?” she asked.
“Walk straight into the mud pool.” He squinted toward her. “But do it slow. So I can watch you.”
She did as she was told, tiptoeing silently into the blurping, warm clay. It was a strangely fulfilling sensation, as though she were being encased in warmth and goodness.
Jake followed, standing beside her now. She met his gaze and, not taking his eyes from hers, he bent slightly to scoop the mud into his palm. Then he glided his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, squeezing lightly at her triceps. Next, he slathered her legs, her upper thighs, moving slowly up to her waist and then to her breasts, which heaved toward him as he caressed her. Then he covered her face, delicately, smoothly, sliding the mud evenly over her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, her forehead.
“My turn,” she whispered, feeling the clay already growing tight on her face. She spread the mud up, up over his knees and his thighs. She started with his calves and his hamstrings, then his abs, and his chest. She explored his back with her fingertips, moving the mud in small circles. He let out a soft moan, and closed his eyes while she moved her fingers up along the back of his neck.
Once they were entirely covered, they moved, silently, to where the morning sun was bleating down upon the stone. There they lay flat on their backs on the warmed and polished terra cotta tile.
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