Bad Behavior

by Kristin Hardy

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Delaney stared around her, amazed. She’d expected a single pyramid but the massive walls of the city enclosed over a dozen grayish stone structures, each covered with carvings simultaneously elaborate and crude. The largest temple, El Castillo, sat poised on a cliff overlooking the blue waters of the Caribbean. There was a grandeur to the broad sweep of steps that ran up each side, a dignity to the geometric lines.

  “I wish we could climb it,” she said. “Can you imagine the view?”

  “You used to be able to. I guess they’re getting too many people these days.”

  She gave him a quick, startled glance. “Have you been here before?”

  He nodded. “When I was in college. A couple of buddies and I came down. We slept in hammocks on the beach.”

  “You mean down there?” She squinted in the direction he pointed, then looked again. “Wait a minute. They look like they’re na—”

  He chuckled. “You noticed that?”

  “Hard to miss. I wouldn’t think a nice private-school boy like you would get involved in anything like that.”

  “Who, me? Look at topless women and run around buck naked? No, I visited purely for the archaeology.”

  “I bet you did. So tell me about them.”

  “What, the topless women?”

  “The buildings.” It didn’t surprise her when he did. He’d have read the books, she thought, storing up details, getting the full picture. It was how he’d been even when she’d known him before, reading things and telling her stories. And as they wandered among the temples, he wove a spell with his words and the afternoon slipped away.

  “I wonder what they would have said if someone had told them all this would be here long after they were gone,” she murmured sometime later. Neither of them really noticed that they’d fallen back into the habit of walking hand in hand.

  “I don’t think they’d have been surprised,” Dom responded. “They might have been in a hurry building it, but I think they were planning long term.”

  “And you approve, I’m sure,” she said drily.

  “Succeeding at what you plan to kicks ass,” he said. “I mean, look at these buildings. Still standing. In most places, you can’t even get a knife blade between the stones. The only thing they’ve lost is the color.”

  “Color?”

  “See the red on El Castillo? They were supposed to have been painted brightly. Like the Greek temples back in the day.”

  She liked them better this way, the ghostly white of the stone against the vivid green of grass and jungle, the blue of ocean. It fit with the aura of the place, a sense of something almost otherworldly, as though if she looked again, she’d see Maya long dead moving around their city.

  “They’re here, aren’t they?” she said. “You can feel them.”

  “I think that’s the tour group from Poughkeepsie you’re talking about.”

  She gave Dom a frown. “I’m serious. There’s something about this place, something…I don’t know, spiritual, maybe. It’s not just rocks and grass.”

  He eyed her. “You haven’t gone all woo-woo on me in the last sixteen years, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t.” She pushed at his shoulder. “But I feel something here.”

  “Sunburn?” he suggested.

  “I don’t know why I talk to you,” she complained.

  He chuckled, eyes on her. “Relax, I was just harassing you. I know what you mean. It has a good vibe.”

  She felt something in his gaze, too, something that had her skin heating in a way that had nothing to do with the sun. Delaney swallowed. “Maybe we should go into the water.”

  Afternoon shadows slanted across the grounds. The site had emptied out, the tour groups gone home. Dom and Delaney headed down the path from ruins to beach until the sand was soft under their feet. And beyond, the sea beckoned.

  “I think that’s what I like best about it, all the buildings up on the cliff by the water,” she said as they stood by a palm tree, stripping down to their bathing suits. “I’ve never seen anything so spectacular.”

  “It’s pretty incredible. Of course, watching you take off your clothes has its moments, too,” he added.

  She paused in the act of tossing down her shorts and stared at him, muscled and brown in the afternoon light. “I like water,” she said slowly. “You can do things in water.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  She piled her clothes with her shoes and day pack. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

  There were few absolutely perfect places on earth, but Delaney had to believe that this was one. A reef offshore broke up the waves, leaving the water extraordinarily smooth and warm enough that sliding into it was like moving through air. And it held that same impossible clarity as the rest of the Caribbean. The color was almost unnaturally luminous under a surface gilded in patches by the slanting sun, except that it was natural, she was looking right at it.

  “Gorgeous,” she sighed. “How can you even think about leaving this place?”

  “I’m not thinking about anything but now,” Dom said, realizing as he said it that it was true. For the first time in months—hell, years—he was relaxed. Finally he was living in the moment because the moment was too damned good to waste. Eric would have been proud.

  The sea floor ran flat and shallow for a fair distance, but they kept wading out until the water was up to the level of his chest, Delaney’s shoulders. She dipped under and came up with her hair dripping wet, sleek as a seal. Her skin was rosy gold in the setting sun.

  She was breathtaking, he thought, watching as she skimmed her fists along the top of the water, squeezing her hands closed quickly and rhythmically to shoot up spouts of water.

  “Whales?” he asked, following suit.

  “A pod of them.” She moved her spouts up next to his with a look of such captivating concentration that he had to sneak in for a kiss, then another.

  And then take hold of her and kiss her properly.

  For the first time in ages he felt truly light, focused only on fun. It was Delaney who’d brought it back to him, he acknowledged, with those devilish smiles, with that mischief in her eyes. He’d found her again and in so doing, had somehow stumbled across a part of himself that he’d lost, or maybe he’d just woken up.

  Then she was wrapping her legs around his waist, her skin silky and slippery against his, and he recognized that there was another part of him that she’d woken up.

  “Now about those things we can do in water?” Dom asked, his hands on her hips.

  “This, for one.” She reached behind herself.

  “Stretching?”

  “Something like that,” she said, pulling off her hot pink bikini top to let the water wash over her bare breasts.

  For a moment, all he could do was stare. Her curves were slight so that her breasts stood out, pale against her tan. And ignoring the fact of a beach about a hundred yards away, he gave in and filled his hands with them. Her nipples were hard, pushing insistently against his palms. He parted his fingers and let the firm little beads slide in between, squeezing them lightly.

  And was rewarded with her soft moan.

  “Do you like that?”

  “I’ll like it better if you keep going,” she said, leaning in for a kiss.

  “Maybe it’s time to head home, then,” he suggested a minute or two later, when he could make himself stop.

  Delaney looked around at the deserted water. “Why not here?”

  He heard the soft hiss of the waves hitting the reef. He could feel himself getting harder as she wiggled against him. “Too many people up at the ruins. We’d have an audience.”

  “I doubt it,” she said. “Not that I’d mind an audience. But all the tour groups have left. The park will be closing soon. And we’ll see anyone coming.” She put her hands over his, pressing his palms against her breasts. “Am I going to have to dare you, Jake the Snake?”

  It was a challenge an
d he found himself rising to it. Or rising to his own desires, really, grateful to have an excuse to do what his body was already demanding.

  He drew his hands over her, her breasts, her hips, her ass, down to where her legs were wrapped around him. Slipping his fingers under the elastic of her suit bottom, he found her ready for him. “You want my cock in you?” he asked, stroking her clit until she gave a strangled gasp. “Or do you want this?”

  He could feel her arms and legs tightening around him as her arousal built, could see it in her eyes. And the rest of the world ceased to matter as he took her up, watched her eyes go blind and staring as she shuddered and encouraged and then went over, quaking against him with her orgasm. “Yeah,” he whispered, “you like it like that, don’t you? You like it in the water. You like it wet.”

  “I like it hard.” She leaned in to suck on his earlobe. “And I want you inside me.” Stepping away from him for a minute, she stripped off her suit bottom so that she was naked.

  The water was so clear that he could see her perfectly, the slight curves and long lines of her, the bikini pieces hanging on her arm. His cock was painfully hard. She gave him a challenging look. “Your turn.”

  “You’re going to feel funny if a good sized wave comes in and you lose your suit.”

  “I won’t. And if I do, I’ll get you to go and bring back my T-shirt.”

  “What if I lose mine, too?”

  “Then I’ll walk up on the beach naked.”

  She would, too, he thought, looking at her. She was reckless, fearless. As he had always been. And he found himself untying his own shorts and pulling them down. His cock sprang free, hard and twitching. And when Delaney wrapped herself around him again, she was naked and open to him.

  “Now,” she breathed, kissing him. “Come on, right now.”

  He fumbled for himself, felt a hint of her slickness and slid himself deep inside her.

  Only to groan as he went from the warmth of the water into her tight, burning heat. But it wasn’t just the feel of her wrapped around his cock, it was everything, the slip of her bare, wet skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her moans. Desire slammed through him and he fought to hold on.

  Because he wasn’t going without her.

  In the water, she was nearly weightless. Hands at her waist, he slid her on and off his cock, raising her up and down, rocking her against him, teasing them both with every stroke. And he knew how deep he was going but she only urged him on, her fingers gripping his shoulders, her gaze focused on his. Each time he thrust into her, he could hear her soft exhalation. Each time he thrust into her, he could feel his own arousal build. But he watched her intently, saw her eyes grow wide and unfocused, then felt her clench around him in time with her rising gasps.

  And with the setting sun silhouetting the temple on the cliff above where the ancients had worshipped, he spilled himself deep inside her.

  “ARE YOU PREPARED TO fight against fate in a place like this?” Dom asked. They stood in the parking lot by the Volkswagen, their hair still damp from the sea.

  She pouted. “You said I could drive home.”

  “I said we’ll see.”

  Delaney put her hands on her hips. “I drive in L.A. every day. I can handle it.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he muttered.

  “You’ve never even seen me drive,” she argued.

  True enough, he hadn’t. And yet…“Call it a hunch.”

  “Keys?” She held out her hand.

  “How about dinner?” He asked quickly. He wasn’t above a bribe.

  And she knew it. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I’m hungry.” He waited her out, depending on the tantalizing scents that were wafting through the dusk.

  Her stomach growled. “I’m still driving home,” she warned.

  “Not if we die of starvation first. Come on.”

  Some things, the best things, never changed. The sky-blue concrete of the taqueria storefront still bore the rendering of a lobster, faded now somewhat with the years. Dom felt a smile spread over his face as they stepped through the screen door. Inside, maybe eight tables were scattered around the small room—red, purple, orange and teal and set with mismatched chairs and plates. In the corner, a fan stirred the air. A smiling young woman with the high, flat cheekbones of Mayan blood stopped at their table to drop laminated menus.

  Delaney reached for hers.

  Dom shook his head. “Don’t worry about the menu. This place has the best lobster burritos in the world.”

  “You’ve been here, I take it?”

  “We practically lived here last time around. They get these lobsters and cut them in half and grill them for you. Then bring them out with tortillas and beans and salsa and stuff. Best damned food you’ve ever had in your life.”

  She touched her chin. “I’m not drooling, am I?”

  “Not so’s you can notice.”

  She’d gotten some sun during the course of the day, he saw, a light shading of gold over her cheekbones, set off by the turquoise of her shirt. It made her eyes look very green.

  When the waitress came, he ordered in his rusty college Spanish, making her laugh with his pronunciation. It was only when she left that he realized Delaney was staring.

  “I didn’t know you were bilingual,” she said. “Of course, I don’t know why I would.” She shook her head. “This is so weird…”

  He knew how she felt. They’d reverted so unconsciously back into the comfort of years before. In some ways, he felt as if he knew her so well. And yet they hardly knew each other at all, he reminded himself, couldn’t after sixteen years of separation.

  “What have you done with yourself for the last sixteen years?” she asked abruptly, as though she’d been thinking the same. “Besides going to a fancy school?” she added before he could speak. “And how come you didn’t wind up being one of those tedious MBA types who live for their alumni meetings?”

  And his antenna went up. “Not big on businessmen?”

  “All they ever want to do is talk about their investment accounts. The worst affair I ever had was with an MBA. I’d rather hang out with a guy who knows how to have some fun,” she said, her foot finding his under the table. “So anyway, fill me in. Five-minute bio.”

  Dom considered. There was the issue of Eric’s bright idea about Tom’s occupation. What would she do if he told her he wasn’t a grease monkey, that he was one of those MBA types she avoided? Would she disappear? She’d always been one for snap decisions. “Oh, let’s see. Went to school. Grew up. Worked with my dad on the business.” It wasn’t precisely a lie, he rationalized. It was just that the business was no longer Stan’s Garage, it was G.A.C. And unless she was putting him on, she didn’t know. Not all that surprising in an urban sprawl like Orange County. Maybe. “So that’s me,” he finished. “What about you?”

  “Graduated. Went to college.”

  “MBA?”

  “No MBA, thanks. I’m more one of those learn-by-doing types.”

  “And what do you do?”

  She folded her arms on the table before her as the waitress brought their beer. “Guess.”

  “I haven’t seen you in sixteen years and I’m supposed to guess?” When she only kept smiling at him, he sighed. “Okay. Give me a minute.”

  “Take your time. In fact, take a drink,” she suggested, “I know it always inspires me.” She clinked her bottle against his.

  He studied her, the bubblegum pink bikini, the turquoise blouse tied over it, the twists of pink and blue that hung at her ears. “Something creative,” he decided, “but something real. I don’t see you doing the artist-in-a-garret routine. And not writing. It has to be something that gets you out around people.” He gave her an inquiring look.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Definitely. But I don’t think services. I think you’d be looking for something where you could blaze your own trail.” He raised his bottle and took a drink. �
��You’re smarter than most people and you know it. You probably enjoy telling them what’s best for them, but I bet you get bored when they aren’t smart enough to know that you’re right.”

  She blinked. “Was I just insulted?”

  “Not at all. That was a compliment. Now, you could be in sales but I think you’d rather do something more substantial.”

  He broke off when the waitress appeared with their tray.

  It was all he’d remembered and more. When Delaney took the first bite, she moaned in pleasure. “That is truly great,” she said.

  Dom grinned. “Your mama know you talk with your mouth full?”

  “Only at needful times,” she told him.

  “You like it?”

  “Please, don’t interrupt me while I’m having a religious experience.”

  And they ate in the silence that only truly wonderful food brought, each bite blending smoky, buttery lobster, refried beans and chewy tortilla. Delaney didn’t play coy and push food around her plate, he noticed. She dug in and enjoyed it. Then again, that was how she approached everything.

  She reached out for another tortilla at the same time he did and blinked. “Last tortilla,” he observed.

  Her eyes gleamed. “Don’t suggest flipping a coin.”

  “Not at all. Tell you what. I’ll give you this tortilla if you ’fess up what it is you do.”

  She eyed the tortilla. “You were supposed to guess.”

  “I was working on it.”

  She hesitated.

  “Tortilla’s getting cold.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “I’ll give you the tortilla if you let me drive home.”

  It was against his better judgment. Then again, it would be a shame to waste that lobster. “Done,” he said.

  “YOU PLANNED THIS,” Delaney accused as she turned the ignition key a third time. The engine turned over and shuddered a bit, but it refused to catch. She cursed as she tried again. “Okay, not even you are good enough to sabotage it without me seeing you.” She got out and glared at the Bug, then at him. “Well, aren’t you going to open the hood?”