Darker Water

by Lauren Stewart

  Half an hour later, I checked on her again. She was looking out the window, chewing on the pencil.

  “You done?” I called.

  “Not yet.”

  Twenty minutes later I asked again.

  “Almost.” Good. She was definitely writing something.

  “What number are you up to?”

  “You’ll find out when I’m done. But since I’m not done, go away.” She was probably doing it so slowly just to drive me insane. It was working. I stared at the ceiling over my bed for fifteen incredibly long minutes.

  When she finally came into the bedroom, she was waving the paper in the air. “If you laugh at any of them, I’m walking out.”

  “Get that fucking list and your fucking ass over here right now.” And damn, I hoped that was on the list.

  She shoved the paper at me and laid down right next to me with bright red cheeks and eyes that were clenched shut.

  “You’re not going to read them to me?” I pouted.

  “Stop it.” She curled into my arm, hiding her face. “I don’t want to see your expression when you read a few of them.”

  I didn’t look at the list, instead deciding to look at her for a little longer. “You mean like number seven? Oh dear god, Lane. Believe me, I’m smiling.” Then I groaned, trying to keep still so she wouldn’t know how badly I wanted to laugh. “Ouch, number four’s gonna hurt. It might even cause some permanent damage.” My abs tightened in jerks but my voice still sounded serious. “I’m not even sure it’s physically possible. Are you absolutely sure you wanna try that?”

  She smacked me.

  When I actually looked at the list, I realized why it had taken her so long to finish. She’d used both sides of the paper...and her print was small. I cleared my throat to cover how anxious I was to start reading.

  Why the fuck doesn’t everybody do this? Hell, maybe they did...in relationships. I swallowed and shook it off.

  “Number one,” I started.

  “Don’t read them out loud!”

  “You wrote them and we’re both going to do them, so why can’t I say them out loud? Number one...” I stopped reading and put the paper down next to me, crumpling it in my fist. “Goddamn it, Lane.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, nervously.

  “That was the first thing you thought of?”

  “Yeah.”

  Damn it. Sure, when I thought of the list idea, I knew I’d get something out of it. A lot of something. But it wasn’t about what I got or what I wanted. It was so Lane would finally own up to what she wanted and not be embarrassed about it.

  “The list is supposed to be about what you want,” I grumbled.

  “Why can’t I want that?”

  “You can but you don’t. You just know I do. I have a good memory about important shit. And one of the very first things you ever said to me was, if I wanted to keep my dick, that shouldn’t happen.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  I paused, not wanting to rush into believing her just because I’d get what I wanted to do every time her lips were around my cock. Of course, if she really did want it and I refused because I thought I knew better than she did, that kind of defeated the purpose of everything.

  I couldn’t say I wasn’t anxious to try. But I couldn’t get distracted until I knew for sure it was what she wanted, too. Don’t get distracted. Right.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Keep reading so we can get it over with. I’m sure there are other ones you’ll freak out about. Read them quick, then you can freak out about all of them at once.”

  I took her hand and put it on my already hardening cock. “I’m freaking out, but in a really good way, Lane. Okay? A really good way.” I lost track of the paper when we started kissing, but it didn’t matter—I’d read the rest later.

  “Then let’s start with number one,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” I tried not to sound as fucking eager as I was but patience had never been my thing. I stood by the edge of the bed and pushed the hair off her face, forming most of it into a messy ponytail as she pulled my shorts down. “You really sure about this?”

  “Are you worried I’m going to bite you, Carson?” Her smile disappeared when she wrapped her lips around my cock, getting it wet.

  “No.” I groaned and pushed deeper into her mouth, trying to go slow—not too much too fast. But holy fuck was it not easy. She reached behind her head and covered my hand with hers, pushing herself forward to take more of me, to force my cock deeper, all the way in, staring up at me with those big, beautiful eyes that I could look at forever.

  “I know you won’t bite me,” I said, my hips slowly starting to take control, my hands sliding to the sides of her face, holding her still. “I’m just worried this will kill me and”—oooh fuck, that feels good—“while I’ll die a very happy man, I’ll never get to know what else”—breathe, need to breathe—“is on that list.”

  But that wasn’t what I should be worried about. What might be happening between us could be way more dangerous.

  Chapter 23 - Carson

  “I’ll get it,” Anna said.

  “No, you won’t. You don’t live here anymore. Remember?” Although it felt like it occasionally. Ever since I started hanging out with Lane, Anna was suddenly around more. I could usually avoid her here—I wasn’t at home during the day and she was unavailable to annoy me at night. Every time she showed up at the office, I put her to work. She was on the board of directors and that had some nice perks, so the least she could do was suffer through twenty minutes of stapling or punching holes into paper. Added bonuses: it was fucking hysterical to watch and she didn’t drop by as often.

  “I said I would get it, Anna.”

  But she got there first. As soon as she opened the door, she cursed. “He doesn’t want any.”

  I yanked it open and saw Lane turn around to leave. “Actually, I do want some.” When she didn’t stop, I yelled her name.

  “Sorry.” Her eyes were wide, darting from me to Anna and back. “I should’ve called first.”

  Oh fuck! She didn’t think Anna and I were—? Gross. That thought hadn’t gone through my head since a few months after Renee had married Anna’s dad. An impressive feat for a fifteen-year-old, considering how focused I was on fucking anything that would let me close enough.

  “I’m really sorry,” Lane mumbled, her eyes starting to fill with water.

  “No,” I said, pushing Anna out of the way so I could get to Lane. “Don’t do that.” She wasn’t supposed to care. She didn’t care. So why the fuck was she about to cry if she didn’t care? Why did I feel the need to make her feel better, to assure her that nothing was going on with anyone but her? That I wasn’t interested in anyone but her?

  “What, these?” She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “They’re not about you, don’t worry. I had a hard day.”

  Part of me thought it might be smart to let her keep thinking Anna was an ex-lover or whatever she assumed Anna was, to use my wicked stepsister to keep a little necessary space between us. But I hated that she looked so uncomfortable, and I didn’t want anything to change.

  “Go home, Anna,” I said, not taking my eyes off Lane, knowing she could bolt any second.

  “No, I’ll go. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  I grabbed the collar of her jacket, yanking her inside. “Go home, Anna.”

  She huffed, her hands on her waist, until I shot her a glare. “Fine. Call me later. After you guys are done. I need to know what you want to do about—”

  I slammed the door shut, but Lane slipped around me and went for it. So I reached over her and put my hand on the door to keep it closed.

  “Let me go, Carson.” She was still facing the door. “I should have called. Lesson learned. But I really want to go now.”

  “No.”

  “I’m embarrassed. Okay? I’m embarrassed because I should’ve known you might have someone over here. I d
idn’t think it would be Anna, but whatever. Who you sleep with isn’t up to me. But I want to go.”

  “No.” I ran my hand up her neck, her hair between my fingers. When I had enough of it, I curled it into my fist and used it to turn her around. The tension kept her face raised but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

  “I’m not fucking Anna. The only person I’m fucking is you and, like I told you before, when that changes I will let you know.” I’d used the world ‘when’ on purpose. So both of us would remember what this was and what it wasn’t. She could see other people, too. Of course, if I was in a room with any of them, I’d make it so that they physically couldn’t fuck her again, but she could see whoever she wanted to.

  “We need to clear something up.” I didn’t know why it hadn’t dawned on me before this—it had probably been going through Lane’s head from the first time they met. “Anna’s my stepsister, and I’m not into that taboo crap.”

  She blinked and her mouth fell open a little before she had a chance to process.

  “Renee married Anna’s dad when I was a freshman in high school. He and Anna left when I was a junior.” And he died a few weeks before Anna turned eighteen. Kind of ironic—when she could finally get out of the bastard’s house, she didn’t need to. “Now Anna uses me for money and enjoys bugging the crap out of me whenever she can. But that’s it.”

  Lane let out a big breath. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” That stopped me. “Every time I saw her, I kept thinking you could find someone so much better than her.”

  “I already did. And now that she’s done being embarrassed over something she shouldn’t be embarrassed about, why doesn’t she tell me why she’s here?”

  “It’s embarrassing,” she said, finally letting her beautiful smile come out.

  I hadn’t released her hair, so I bent her head back a bit more and kissed her. Solidifying the idea that I’d take what I wanted and she should do the same, especially when what she wanted was me.

  When I broke the kiss, I said, “I wet the bed until I was nine. Does whatever you’re embarrassed about top that?”

  She laughed. “Not a lot could top that. And I can’t believe you told me that.”

  “Life’s too fucking short to spend any of it embarrassed or guilty. If you’re going to learn how to put yourself first, you can’t keep being controlled by what other people do.” Something in my own words shocked me, triggered something in my brain, like a thread I couldn’t hold onto until there was more to it.

  I brushed it off—sometimes thinking was the last thing you should be doing. “So what is it?”

  “I got a huge job.” As soon as she started talking, it’s like everything else was forgotten. She was practically jumping. “Like, huge. It’s commissioned but she doesn’t want furniture, she wants art. Art, Carson. My art. She saw my table, I mean your table, the table. She saw it at the auction and loved it. This morning, I met her at the building so we could talk in the space where she wants them. It’s gigantic and open and there’s a huge infinity-type pool at one end. While I was sitting there thinking about the auction and you and the water and everything else, I got this idea.” She either stopped to take a breath or so I could respond.

  “Are you going to tell me the idea or is it a need-to-know kind of thing?”

  “Frogs.”

  “Not getting it.”

  “Methods and hurt aside, each of my frogs got me one step closer to this moment. To you. And you got me to the job that might lead me to something even bigger. So, I’m going to build seven driftwood tables in the rough shapes of lily pads leading up to the infinity pool.”

  “Wow, that’s…an awesome idea.”

  “She thought so, too. And I’m totally charging her too much. Just like you told me I should.”

  “Congratulations. That’s great, you totally deserve it, and it’s not too much to charge them what you’re worth. But I missed the embarrassing part.”

  “She gave me an advance to get the equipment and supplies I’ll need, but I didn’t buy new equipment.” She grimaced. “Well, it’s equipment but not for my shop.” Blushing, she held up a nondescript black plastic bag. The kind of bag that only comes from one kind of store, the best kind of store.

  I took it from her, peeked inside—“Damn, we’ll definitely cross a few things off the list with these”—and pulled her towards the bedroom. “Let’s go celebrate art.”

  Chapter 24 – Carson

  Lane still had the key I’d given her. She just refused to use it. I opened the door for her and then went right back to work.

  “Can’t do it, Lane. Whatever it is. Unless it’s you and it’s a quickie.” I’d been preoccupied and occupied and probably post-occupied if I knew what that was, and I was supposed to meet a board member from the foundation later who’d hinted he wanted to step down. Problem was, he also happened to be the CEO of one of our largest sponsors. If he was out, he might take his company’s money out with him. My job was now to convince him how lucky we were to have him without too much groveling.

  After a few minutes Lane peeked her head into my office. “Did I leave my sunglasses here yesterday?”

  “Yeah,” I said, not looking up from my laptop. “I put them in your drawer.”

  “My what?” Her voice was sharp, surprised, and I realized how that might be misconstrued.

  “The drawer you fixed.” I slowly turned my chair around so I could see her. “I wasn’t using it, and since you occasionally leave your crap around here, I figured I’d shove it all in one place. But since it’s making you uncomfortable and that’s making me uncomfortable, I’ll leave your shit wherever I find it from now on.” I waited for her to respond, somehow knowing this was one of those moments that could potentially fuck everything up. Over a drawer and a pair of sunglasses.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “It’s just a little bit of space people make too big a deal about. You didn’t freak out when you started keeping a toothbrush over here.”

  “That’s because you always jump on me as soon as I open my eyes—or earlier than that—and it seemed like a better alternative than morning breath.”

  “There’s nothing that needs subtitles here, Lane. The drawer is a drawer and you can use it for drawer-type activities. Or not. Up to you.”

  “It just surprised me, that’s all.” She went into my bedroom and came back with her sunglasses. “I’m gonna leave the other stuff in there for now.”

  “It’s your drawer and your stuff. Do whatever you want with it.” I stood. “Are you gonna stick around, too?”

  “Can’t. I have to work. I’ll call you later if I have time.”

  If she had time. Fuck. I felt her pull away, which meant she was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking. Dangerous things that, if they weren’t dealt with now, would get bigger and more toxic.

  “Come here,” I said.

  “I have to go to work.”

  “Come here.”

  She sighed and came over, stopping a couple feet away. I grabbed her waist and pulled her the rest of the way.

  “Things changed in thirty seconds because of a drawer. Can you explain that to me, please?”

  “It’s normally a big step in a relationship, and we don’t have that kind of relationship. I needed a minute to remember that.”

  I tipped her chin up. “I love what we’re doing. I like you a lot. I don’t want what happened between you and your frogs to happen between you and me. So…” I didn’t want to say it. “If we need to cool it for a while until you can remember what this is, that’s okay. Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re just afraid to say it. Don’t be afraid of me, Lane. I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on, it might happen accidentally.”

  “I don’t want to cool down.” She smiled. “I want things to stay hot.”

&
nbsp; Hallelujah. “Do you really need to work?” Like I did.

  “I guess I could stay a little longer.” How the hell did she keep getting more beautiful? That wasn’t possible, but somehow she was doing it.

  “Listen,” I said, “I would put superglue on every single drawer I have to make sure things didn’t change between us. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Do you ever think we spend too much time together?”

  “Constantly. But do I care? Not at all.”

  “How much time do you spend working?”

  “Depends on what events are coming up, the season, shit like that.” Fall was always insanely busy though—still nice outside but around the time companies start thinking about tax write-offs. “Why?”

  “By my figuring, hanging out with me is like a part-time job—twenty hours a week, at least. And that’s not counting sleeping time.”

  “What about waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-screwing-around time?”

  “I didn’t count that, either.” She blushed. “So when do you see your other friends?”

  “Huh.” I didn’t. Initially, I’d stayed away from them because most of what we did together was drink and try to get laid. The drinking I could handle now, but the women? I didn’t need to pick anyone up when I had the world’s most perfect woman in my bed almost every night and—

  Oh shit. “Yeah, I can see how that might be a problem. Maybe I’ll go out tonight. I haven’t done anything with a guy for a while. Aaand that came out totally wrong. I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” she said, laughing.

  “Good. Because the plan doesn’t include sex with a friend or a stranger until tomorrow when you come over.” Damn it. I wished I didn’t feel the need to tell her that. “Then my plan is to get one of my friends naked and horny. Guess which one.”

  “I have absolutely no idea who you’d subject yourself to. But maybe you should walk through each step now, to make sure it will work tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and went up on her toes.