by L. B. Dunbar
As his finishing pulse released in my hand, I slowed until he stopped me with his forearm over our connection. I had continued in my kissing assault of his chest and abs. My mouth worked downward to where my hand was busy. I didn’t intend to take him between my lips. This was about erasing Ana’s touch, in his mind and mine.
He used his left hand to raise my chin and stared into my eyes.
“Guinie Girl,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I returned his stare and spoke.
“Yes, I did.” My words meant more than mentioned. I had intended to prove I had the power over him. In my heart, he still had power over me.
He kissed me tenderly on the forehead.
“Your turn,” he said, sliding his left hand awkwardly between us.
“No turn,” I breathed. That was for him. That was for me. He took my meaning, and after a questioning look, rolled out of bed for the bathroom. I heard him showering and I rolled away to face the closed window. While I felt the supremacy of what I’d done, I also felt the weight of it. Our teasing touches didn’t mean anything. What were we doing? Our actions proved nothing. I closed my eyes, both recalling in my mind what I had just done, and at the same time, telling myself I should not have taunted him like that. I had only tortured myself. I wanted him to touch me in return.
Exiting the bathroom, he paused behind me and tenderly called my name, but I pretended to sleep. I wasn’t sure I could face him. I heard the door open and click softly closed. I waited a beat and rolled to face his exit. I stared at the ceiling fan that spun round and round. It was a moving metaphor for Arturo and me. The attraction was present, but the emotion was what I longed for. I wanted him to love me again.
The walk of shame was never more awkward than that morning. The whole gang sat around the three-sided pit couch that was the center of the living space. Lounging as they drank coffee or watched the quiet television, all eyes turned to me as I left my room. Arturo wasn’t present. I couldn’t focus on anyone in particular. Lansing was the first to look away; Lila stared in sympathy. I was starting to believe the only person who understood my conflicted heart was Lila. I wanted Arturo; I just didn’t know how to go back. Not to mention, going back meant he would have to let things go as well.
I didn’t believe it was the group’s business to know what Arturo and I had shared, but I could see the imagination in their faces ran deep. Tristan, especially, had a gleam to his eyes as he looked me over. His eyes roamed over me, and to anyone else it might have been seductive, but Tristan wasn’t interested in seducing me. He was examining me for emotional damage. I was clean that morning. I took a deep breath and shook my head. He smiled slowly and muttered, “Good girl.”
His rising cup of coffee covered his smile, and Ireland looked at me next. She scanned me as well then pinched her brows in wonder. They were all accessing and evaluating me for harm. I wasn’t hurt. I actually felt quite exhilarated. I’d slept well for the first time in months, and I felt empowered by what I’d done to Arturo. He entered the room on cue.
“What?” he demanded, as the silence in the room was heavy.
“Nothing,” muttered several voices. The sound rolled like the volume being turned up on a stereo.
“Who wants breakfast?” Perkins offered, standing and removing his arm from around his wife.
“Me,” two pregnant women announced, and the tension was broken.
We lazily took our time making our way outside into the beautiful Caribbean sun. I’d learned bits and pieces of Tristan and Ireland’s story from Tristan’s return, but more details came forth as we started the day. I giggled inside to hear that The Heartbreaker had fallen, and fallen hard for Ireland. The way he looked at her was evidence that he worshipped her. At moments, I found myself recalling that Arturo had looked at me like that once. My own heart broke a little at the thought that he no longer did.
We’d shared a moment last night, and another this morning, but we were back to our awkward ways in the bright light of day. We kept our distance, spoke minutely, and generally avoided one another. It was Lila that encouraged a swim and as I submerged in the warm ocean water, I let my mind drift as my body floated. It was peaceful and I dove under to refresh my spirit. I swam out a ways then turned to find Arturo was making his way toward me. I might have misunderstood. He could have just been entering the water to cool off as well, but the expression on his face proved otherwise.
As he finalized the distance between us, he came so close our bodies almost collided. His breath was coming heavily and his chest rose with exertion. His eyes had that dangerous black look to them, and he beamed rays of intensity at me. My own breath hitched and I braced myself for I didn’t know what.
“I want to fucking kiss you so badly, right now,” he breathed out. The thrill that rose through me was as powerful as the rough current that surrounded us. It travelled under me at an exhilarating pace and my hands reached out for his chest. His hand froze my movement.
“I can’t,” he breathed into my face. His mouth was mere inches from mine.
“They’re all watching us. Watching you like a standing guard. You’ve bewitched them all, and they’re worried I’ll break you.” His voice had a hint of bitterness. I stepped back at the use of Mure Linn’s word: bewitched. I hadn’t intended to put anyone under a spell. They were all free to think or do what they wanted. What I didn’t want was their judgement. The relationship, or lack of one, was between Arturo and me.
The knowledge that he’d slept in my room was common. The question of whether we’d had sex was answered. We hadn’t, and for the most part, the group seemed to agree that was a good thing. In my opinion, I was no longer certain. I was beginning to think if Arturo and I just slept together, we’d get any gnawing attraction out of the way. We needed closure from one another. I decided having sex with him might be the way to lock the door between us.
“Let’s swim,” I suggested, stepping back from him and avoiding any confrontation with him. He seemed angry, but more from frustration. He ran his wet hand through his hair, exaggerating the waves. I dipped below the water line to cover my breasts, which ached at the beauty that stood before me. I could not deny that Lansing Lotte was one fine specimen of man. I had been attracted to him, as many women had been, but it was Arturo who took my breath away. His body called to my soul. I longed to be made whole by him. Watching his skin glisten with water and shine in the sun did nothing to quench the thirst I had for him.
He stared down at my lowered body and a slow smile crept over his lips. Then he frowned.
“I can’t swim,” he said. He raised his arm. “I’d be like a one finned dolphin. My balance is off.” His face fell.
“Try,” I said.
“Guinevere,” he sighed, looking away from me. I treaded backward in the water, allowing myself to be pulled deeper. He returned his gaze to me and sighed again. He continued to walk toward me, as the sandy bottom grew more difficult to reach. I was shorter than Arturo and the depth of the water would be a struggle for me sooner than him.
I had reached my limit and kicked my feet to draw him farther. He knew it was too deep for me.
“That’s enough,” he warned. I kept going. The distance to shore was far. We were out quite a ways and waves rolled up and over us, gently rocking us. At one point, Arturo saw the white cap coming. He called to me, but it was too late. The water was too deep for me and the wave overtook me. I sank straight down, losing sight of anything in the cloudy, salty water. I lingered below the surface, struggling at first and then giving into the strength of the wave. Within seconds, I was yanked upward and I gasped for air, spitting out only a minimal amount of intake. My back was resting on Arturo’s chest, who seemed to be leaning back in order to keep my head afloat.
“Fuck,” he cursed. His right arm was wrapped around my waist and he paddled us backward, with me over him. I coughed to clear my throat. The salt had burned and my eyes stung. I wasn’t doing anything to help Arturo m
ove us to safer footing as my hands wiped at my face.
Once his feet were stable on the sandy ocean bottom, he spun me in his arms to face him; holding me tight against him, my arms wrapped around his neck to steady myself.
“Fuck, Guinie, are you alright?” His eyes scanned my face as I shook my head. Frightened dark orbs stared at me.
“You saved me,” I said, my voice hoarse with salt water.
His mouth crashed onto mine. His lips captured me. This kiss I recognized. Arturo was a masterful kisser, taking and crushing in a way that left me breathless and out of control. My hands gripped his wet hair as his lips seized mine. It was forceful and tender, as if the attacker intended to arouse confusion at the combination. Aroused, I was, as my legs floated weightless in the water and circled around his waist. He shifted so the length of him pressed into my center. I attempted to break the kiss with a sigh, but he strangled it in me, continuing to kiss me hard. I eventually pulled back when I could no longer breathe.
“Arturo,” I whined, as he shifted me under cover of the water to grind against him. His one hand cupped my ass, pushing me forward to rub against him. I slid in a manner that the tip of him caught at the potential entrance of me, blocked only by the thin material of each of our suits. I whimpered at the anticipation of penetration and the shield that prevented it from happening.
“I could take you right here,” he hissed before his mouth returned to mine. We kissed for long stroking minutes as the water lapped around us. The kiss was refreshing as it was one that I’d been eagerly awaiting. The water was a literal baptism that washed both our bodies in hopes of removing our sins. I believed again that if we could be joined, it would cancel out the separation.
Arturo remained focused, kissing to abandon. My senses were gone. I didn’t hear the roll of the waves or the call of the shore. It was only Arturo and I in the vast ocean, filled with uncertainty, hope, and promise. I wanted to believe we could move on, whatever that entailed. Arturo slowed in his attack, the battle won as he took what he desired. My heart continued to race in the aftereffects. His final kiss lingered then his lips pulled away. We stared at one another for a long minute.
“Did you do that on purpose?” he asked, twisting his head in curiosity.
“Do what?”
“Drown,” he laughed. I hadn’t meant to drown, but I was pushing his limits. He would act if forced.
“Did you swim to save me?” I asked, my lip twitching up at the corner.
“You tricked me,” he laughed again.
“You saved me,” I said dropping my tone.
“I…” He paused, staring at me. His eyes narrowed. “I would never let any harm come to you, Guinie.”
“I know that,” I said softly, stroking the side of his face as we were still entangled under the water.
“I wouldn’t have let you drown,” he said, a hint of something in his voice.
“I know.” I continued to stroke his cheek, attempting to soothe whatever was going on in his head.
“I will never, ever leave you again. I want to be your savior, always.”
“Arturo,” I bit my lip. “You can’t promise not to leave. You can’t prevent things from happening to me.”
“I should have been here for you,” he said, his eyes pleading with me. “I should have been the one picking up pieces, not making you crumble.”
Both my hands braced his face. His expression pained me.
“If I’d been here, you wouldn’t have…Nothing would have happened…” he sighed. He was right, but he was also wrong. There were unknown truths about Lansing and me, and there was no way to predict how they would come to fruition. There was no way to determine what results might arise, once those secrets were told. The uncertainty was in what we didn’t know. The hope was we could move on with what we did. The promise was to remain true to one another from this day forward.
We made our way slowly back to shore. Once the kiss was complete, Arturo was spent. In the past, small kisses might have followed the initial attack. He might have lingered in the spoils of his battle with me. At present, he didn’t. He got what he wanted and was ready to move on. It left a sickening feeling in my stomach. He didn’t even reach for my hand. As he walked on my left side, he couldn’t. It left me feeling empty. The gulf between us grew again as we neared the beach and the questioning eyes of our court.
Ladies in waiting make for restless women. When Tristan announced he had to check on something for the wedding, later that day, the guys decided to tag along. Ireland initially was told it would only be an hour, hour and a half at the most, but three hours later, she’d lost her patience.
“This is the night before my wedding. I haven’t had a bachelorette party. Let’s go out,” she suggested. The other three of us were shocked, but after a second, it was Lila who said, “I’m game.”
Ireland’s plans to have a special pre-wedding dinner as there was no rehearsal were shot, so we dressed quickly, pulling together what we could out of our limited supply. Ireland had on a short strapless dress with an empire waist that only gave the hint of a baby bump. It was Hollister that was a knock out. Long legs topped steep heels, and the bulge of her stomach forced the silver strappy dress to rise high over her thighs. Despite the pregnancy, she looked ready to kick ass and take names with her dark hair hanging down her back in thick waves. Lila’s smaller frame rocked out a red dress that hugged her everywhere and accentuated what she had. I finished out the foursome with a silver shift dress that hung straight and short. We giggled as we walked down the beach, carrying our shoes, and garnering looks from those we passed.
There was a small club in one of the closer resorts, and Ireland knew they would be playing dance music that night. Lila and I had already hit a bottle of white wine before we left the house. An anxious warmth filled me and it wasn’t from the heat. I was looking forward to letting loose a little. My thoughts needed a break from Arturo, his powerful kiss, and his cool distance afterward. It seemed he was content to do something in the dark, or away from the group, but before them he kept the cold front.
We entered the club with bright neon lights flashing to the beat of the music. This wasn’t alternative rock, like The Nights. This was pop-based dance music and the rhythm filled me instantly. I swayed as soon as we found a table. Lila and I ordered another round. Ireland stared with longing.
“A half glass won’t hurt you,” Hollister yelled over the loud bass.
“I’m just upset that I can’t celebrate,” Ireland shrugged.
“Here,” Hollister said, reaching for the bottle we purchased that sat on the table. “I’ll have a half glass, too.”
Two half glasses and two completely full rose in toast.
“To love,” Hollister said.
“To new beginnings,” Lila said, her eyes shifted to me then quickly returned to the raised glasses.
“To The Nights,” Ireland laughed, shaking her head.
“To new life,” I said, nodding toward Hollister and Ireland. It somehow seemed the wrong thing to say, and after a hesitant moment, we drank. I finished half of mine in one swallow. Lila placed her glass on the table and reached for my hand. Tugging me forward, we hit the dance floor that blinked more neon with the thumping sound of the pop music. It was like a 1990’s splatter painting was coming to life with all the neon, but I let the sporadic lights wash over me. I raised my hands in the air as the song requested and let my head hang. Lila and I swayed together, a risqué motion certain to draw attention.
It did. Within seconds, two men descended upon us. A hand gripped my hip and forced me to melt into him. We weren’t actually grinding or touching, but we rolled in unison. The hand on my hip squeezed me to lead the way, and he followed my moves. My hands were still up in the air and I only had a brief look over my shoulder at the man. A man who was a bit too pretty smiled back at me. It was obvious; he wasn’t going to be interested in me. He just wanted to dance.
The music shifted. Another song began, ba
rely missing a beat from the previous rhythm. My partner spun me and my arms came loosely over his shoulders. Our hips rocked toward each other in imitation of the most sexual of acts. It was invigorating and thrilling, but I was reminded again that this man wasn’t interested in what I had below. Lila was in the same position, her bottom twerked toward her partner, who pretended to spank her. As we laughed, we missed their presence. Instantly, Lila’s dance companion went down.
“George,” my new friend squealed and knelt to help his friend. I looked up to find the dangerous dark eyes glaring at me. He wasn’t the one to throw the punch, though. It was Lansing Lotte who was breathing heavily as he stared at Lila.
“We’re leaving,” he hissed. It wasn’t a request. Lila stared at him in disbelief, then walked ahead of him, and exited the dance floor.
I knelt to help the two innocent men when a large man dressed in black cleared a path through the crowd.
“Out,” he demanded to me.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Arturo breathed fire.
“Who the fuck are you?” The security guard asked.
“I’m Arturo King,” a menacing voice responded. The man must have recognized the name and his eyes shifted to Arturo’s missing hand. He nodded once then spoke again.
“You need to leave,” he said softer, his tone still as strong in his intention for us to exit his club. Arturo leaned to lift me. I was escorted by his rough hand on my upper arm. Our small party gathered on the lawn outside the resort before the beach.
“We’re going home,” Tristan said, his arm wrapping around Ireland and leading her down to the cool evening sand. It was dark. The blackness surrounded us, omnipresent and beautiful. Lila and Lansing walked before us. I could see that they were fighting. Lansing’s hands were moving up in the air. Eventually, he cut in front of Lila. She stopped, then moved to her left. He blocked her by following her movement. She stepped right and he cut her off again. His hands came up to her shoulders and he shook her gently. Then his mouth was on hers. By then, we’d almost reached the couple, and I couldn’t draw my eyes away.