The Origin

by Youkey, Wilette

  “Just do it already.”

  The kiss began gently as their lips touched, but neither one could deny the chemistry any longer. They had repressed their impulses for so long that it had transformed, had become radioactive, heating the very water they sat in.

  She whispered his name as she ran her hands over his bare skin, and he groaned in response, moving torturously slow to savor the moment.

  With careful restraint, instead of just ripping it to shreds like he wanted, he finished unbuttoning the silk shirt and peeled it off her olive skin, revealing the black bra that was cradling her breasts. As they kissed, he reached around and tried to undo the clasp, but his fingers felt like oven mitts and he fumbled without any results.

  Olivia pulled back and smiled. “With all your powers, you still can’t unhook a bra?” She reached around with one hand and, in one second, had disengaged the clasp.

  “I’d trade breathing underwater for that ability any day,” he said as she grasped his hands and brought them up to her chest. He cupped one breast in each hand and kissed Olivia once more, wrapping his long legs around her waist, gathering her closer.

  With a swiftness that came naturally, he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her legs, underwear and all. Biting his lips, he took in all of her breathtaking perfection, unable to believe that she was actually naked in his bathtub.

  The smile on her face was of pure seduction as her hands languorously slid down his back and tugged at the elastic waist of his pants. “Now it’s your turn,” she said against his lips, and he started at the sensation of her palms on his butt cheeks. But despite her best efforts, she struggled to pull his pants past his thighs.

  “Here,” he said and ripped them off his legs with a large splash. They chuckled as he threw what remained of his pajama pants on the tile floor. “I didn’t really like that pair anyway.”

  She raised one eyebrow as her eyes traveled down his torso, to a point under the waterline. “No underwear?”

  “I sleep naked.”

  “Interesting,” she said and lunged for his lips. He straightened his legs as she straddled him, gently pushing him back onto the angled edge of the tub.

  He hesitated, resting his hands on her hips to hold her still. “Liv, I don’t want to lose control and hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me,” she said with confidence, and all at once, the worry that weighed heavy in his mind dissolved. Hurting her was not even a possibility.

  Without breaking the seal of their lips, he reached into the drawer beneath the sink and blindly rummaged around. His heart rejoiced when his fingers finally made contact with that special square foil package.

  After he applied the condom, he held onto her hips as she lowered herself onto him. Their sighs of pleasure were one and the same. He sat up and kissed her neck, running his lips along her collarbone, desperately trying not to fly apart.

  “Liv, Liv,” he said against her soft skin, clutching her closer than he’d ever held anyone before, afraid that he’d wake up and find his arms empty.

  He knew she was close when her entire body stiffened, her breathing erratic as her movements became more frenzied. Before she climaxed, he grasped the back of her head and kissed her thoroughly, muffling her cries. He moved rapidly underneath her and a few moments later, he too was climaxing, white fireworks blooming on the back of his eyelids.

  Afterwards, they clung tightly to each other, their hearts pounding in unison. As they sat in silence, he tried to avoid thinking of a future with her, but as determined as Olivia had been, so too was the vision of a life with the woman who knew his secrets and still remained in his arms.

  11 | THE KING’S DAUGHTER

  “So how did you tell your parents?” Olivia asked as they lay in his rumpled bed, their bodies a tangle of limbs. After making love in the bathtub, Daniel had dried her off with surprising tenderness and, after he himself dried off, had carried her into the bedroom and onto his unmade bed where they made love once more.

  Daniel pursed his lips. “They don’t know.”

  “You never told them? What if… if they’re like you?”

  He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “They’re not like me. I’m adopted, remember?” he said softly. “I have no clue who or what the hell I am.”

  She rubbed the back of her hand on his stubbly cheek, hating the idea of Daniel waking up one day and realizing that his entire identity was a mystery he couldn’t solve.

  “Did you contact the adoption agency?”

  “My parents didn’t want to tell me the name of the agency at first. It took them long enough as it was to tell me I was adopted. They didn’t want me looking into my past, I guess. Which, you know, fueled my curiosity even more.”

  He grasped her wrist and pressed his lips to her palm. “Finally, after an overlong, passionate speech about knowing thy true self, they finally caved. But, ironically enough, the adoption agency itself obstructed me. They have a firm rule about confidentiality, so they say. I could only make contact if my real parents wanted the same.” He stared off into space for a second before continuing. “So I broke into their building one night. I was nearly caught except, well, there was no way in hell that old security guard was going to catch up to me.”

  “What happened then? Did you find your biological parents?”

  “I found their names, their former residence. But the trail went cold there. I was seventeen. I didn’t know how the hell you could go about searching for people that didn’t want to be found.”

  “Are you still…”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I haven’t stopped looking. I haven’t stopped researching. I’ve read every comic book known to man, read books about DNA and genetic mutations. But nothing seems relevant to me.” His chest rose and fell. “Someday, I’ll figure out what the hell I am.”

  She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, dipping into her shallow pool of knowledge about mythical creatures. “Maybe you’re some sort of demigod? Like your mom was a mortal and your father is Zeus or something,” she said, unable to believe she was uttering such words without irony.

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Do you really believe in omnipotent gods with soap operatic lives?”

  “Well, no. But until today, I didn’t believe in super-humans either.”

  “Maybe I’m a demon.”

  “I’d sooner believe you’re Superman’s little brother before I believe that you’re a demon,” she said. “There’s not a dishonorable bone in your body.”

  “I’ll show you a dishonorable bone.” He flashed her a wicked grin, flipped her onto her back and tickled her sides.

  But she would not be distracted. She thirsted for more information from the man who both fascinated and thrilled her, a heady combination. “Stop. Tell me what happened after high school? Did you go to college? How did you end up in New York? Oklahoma is a long way away.”

  He released her with a smile and settled back, folding one arm behind his head. Daniel, at least for the moment, was an open book. “After high school, I went to Kansas State. They lured me with football scholarships, but I stayed because I thought it would be a big enough place for me to get lost in. I tried to play football, but it was hard, trying to hide what I can do. Even if I just stood there and someone ran into me, they still hurt themselves. The football players liked me at first, because I was good, but after a while they started looking at me sideways and that’s when I knew I wasn’t doing a good enough job of hiding. So I left at the beginning of junior year and moved to L.A., but the people there were too freaky, even for me. So I lived in Chicago for a time and tried to help people. I figured I could remain anonymous in a big city. Not stick out so much.”

  “And what made you move to New York?”

  Olivia could feel the moment he began to close off, as the lines around his eyes deepened and his lips stiffened. “It’s a long story.”

  She held her breath, watching him closely as he squinted into space, as though watching a dark me
mory replaying before his eyes. “So,” she said, interrupting before his reverie closed him off completely. “Do you help people in New York too?”

  He remained silent for a time then, finally, he said, “Yes. But I’m more careful now.”

  “Careful how?”

  “I only go out at night and I wear gloves so I don’t leave fingerprints all over the place. And I make sure I’m completely covered up, so that witnesses can’t see my face.”

  “You wear a mask?” she said with an amused smile and, all of a sudden, the puzzle pieces locked into place as the police sketch flashed before her eyes. “Wait. Hold on,” she said, sitting up. “Are you the Black Hero?”

  He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s not the name I would have chosen, but I guess so.”

  “But I thought he was… black?”

  He pulled her back onto the pillows with a chuckle. “I’m not a hero either,” he said, planting a kiss on her nose. “Which is why I hate that moniker.”

  She opened her mouth to ask about the numerous stories the news had covered that involved the Black Hero, most of which had involved a violent crime, wondering if the savagery had impacted his view on life. But the words remained teetering on the edge of her tongue, never leaving her lips. She decided that she really didn’t need to know if Daniel had shot that house robber in the leg or broken that pedophile’s arms. Such talk had the potential to ruin the glow of their morning.

  “Thank you for trusting me with your secret,” she said instead, snuggling in the crook of his neck and feeling his pulse on her forehead. “It’s safe with me.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair and she felt him swallow deeply. “Thank you for not running away screaming.”

  “I’m not that easy to scare, Daniel.”

  “Why…” He hesitated, his heartbeat picking up speed. “Why did you stick around? I mean, I was kind of a jerk…”

  “Yes, you were.” She laughed softly, her breath ruffling the hair on his chest. “But I wanted to figure you out, to discover the enigma that was Daniel Johnson.”

  “And now?”

  She smothered a secret smile. Apparently, even the most formidable human being on the planet was not immune to bouts of insecurity. “I think I could do worse than dating a guy with superpowers. At the very least, you can save me cab fare.”

  His laugh reverberated through his chest as he tickled her sides once again. She retaliated and they wriggled around on the bed, giggling freely like children.

  She stopped short when she caught a glimpse of the digital clock on his bedside table. “It’s ten thirty already?” Untangling herself, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom to retrieve her clothes off the radiator. “I have to meet my father for brunch and then get to the studio by two.”

  Her jeans were not altogether dry, but it would have to do. She didn’t have time to go back home and change; at least she had had the foresight to leave her ballet clothes at the studio. While buttoning her shirt, Daniel appeared at her side without warning, making her squeal in surprise.

  “Would you stop doing that? You’ll give me a heart attack!”

  “Sorry,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You want me to carry you there?”

  Olivia contemplated the offer then shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t want to have to explain to my father why I rode a guy to breakfast.”

  She could almost read his dirty thoughts as he tried to smother a grin. “I’ll hail you a cab, then,” he replied instead and headed out.

  “Put some pants on first, Captain Bare Butt!” she called after him with a laugh.

  As Daniel escorted Olivia to the sidewalk, he was hit with the sudden realization that he had been mistaken all along. Far from complicating his life, Olivia had actually found a way to straighten the erratic winding road that he was traversing. In her presence, Daniel could ignore the worries that lie beyond the horizon and just be a boy wooing a girl.

  “Good luck tonight,” he said, a palm pressed to the curve of her back as he opened the taxi door.

  “Thank you,” she said with a warm look. “Do you want to meet up afterwards?”

  “Sure. I’ll call you.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, suddenly aware of how much he’d touched her all day. But God help him, he couldn’t help it; the woman was just damn magnetic. He would stay naked in bed with her all day if he could.

  Before climbing into the taxi, she turned back to him with a saucy smile that made him wonder if she could read minds. “I’ve had the best morning,” she said and reached up to give him one last, lingering kiss. He grasped the back of her neck, noticing an odd horizontal scar at her hairline, and pulled her closer, kissed her deeper.

  He was still reeling – from the kiss, from the morning, from the girl – long after the taxi drove away.

  * * * * *

  “Honey! How are things?” were the first words out of Richard King’s mouth as he embraced his twenty-six-year old daughter.

  She kissed him on the cheek tenderly before they sat down. “Things are… good,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed when she added, “I’m dating a guy.”

  Richard lifted an eyebrow at her news, not entirely surprised. His only daughter was fickle and he was never surprised to hear that she was dating someone new. “What’s his name?” he said, trying to sound like the protective father that he ought to be. The truth, though, was that his daughter had been self-sufficient for many years and he exercised no more control over her than he did any stranger. He could voice his opinions, but at the end of the day, Olivia was willful and would do as she pleased. He saw himself in her that way. Everything else she had inherited from her mother, Sarah.

  “His name is Daniel Johnson,” she said, eyeing him as though he should know the name. “We used to go to high school together in Oklahoma, though he was a year ahead of me.”

  “Ah.” He regarded his daughter thoughtfully and noted the glow on her face. He asked the requisite question that all fathers asked of their grown daughter’s new beau: “What does he do?”

  She grinned. “He’s a security guard at a Chase Bank.”

  “You must really like this guy,” he remarked as he took a sip of orange juice with a healthy dash of vodka. The new boyfriend’s vocation was a surprise; she wasn’t entirely a snob, but of the list of men she’d dated, none had been blue collar.

  “I do. He’s very…” She chewed her lip thoughtfully, reminding him of a much younger version of herself. “Special.”

  “Daniel Johnson, huh?” he asked, filing away the name in his memory banks. If this Daniel Johnson ever hurt his daughter, Richard knew of a thousand ways to make him suffer, nine hundred of which he would be glad to administer personally.

  A poorly concealed love struck grin was still plastered on her face when the waiter arrived to take their orders.

  “That’s not much food, honey. You’re looking awfully thin these days,” he said after Olivia ordered only a salad with grilled chicken and a glass of water.

  She sighed. “I have to watch what I eat. You know that.”

  “Have you thought any more about what I said last time?” He watched her try to keep a blank expression on her face to hide the obvious disdain.

  She spoke slowly, carefully. “I have and I’m just not ready to work for you.”

  “Work with me, honey. There’s a big difference.”

  “Either way, I’m not ready to turn my back on ballet just yet.” She flashed a quick apologetic smile and then the subject was changed, as always. “Speaking of which, you missed my opening night.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was in Korea, and my plane didn’t arrive until midnight.” He smiled at her, hoping she’d take pity on her old man.

  Her eyes lit up. “Korea? Did you go see halmoni and halapoji?”

  He hadn’t visited Sarah’s parents, had, in fact, not even thought about it until just now. Saying he was not close wi
th his Korean in-laws would be an understatement. “I didn’t have time. Next time.” He hastened to change the subject. “So how did opening night go? Did you break a leg?”

  “You don’t say that to a dancer. That’s bad luck.”

  He sat back and shrugged apologetically, completely aware of the idiom’s significance for ballet dancers. Satisfied that he had successfully steered the subject away from her grandparents, he said, “So how did it go? Did my virtuoso daughter light up the stage once more?”

  He listened with interest, captivated as her face lit up while she launched into a blow-by-blow description of the performance. He remembered the time when she had almost been kicked out of the New York City Ballet due to lack of focus, which resulted in less than perfect technique. Not too long ago, Richard had almost been sure she would give up and pursue another dream – perhaps even take a job at King Industries – but with hard work and sheer stubbornness, she had fought her way back to the top in a company of near flawless dancers. She, like him, had the tenacity to reach the top and stay there. Of that, he could count on.

  * * * * *

  John watched from the small coffee shop window as Richard King and his talented daughter exited Josephina restaurant and walked towards the black sedan waiting on the curb. He was sitting casually by the window, a tall cappuccino with soy milk in one hand and a digital SLR camera in the other.

  Putting down the paper cup, he held the camera to his left eye and zoomed in on the stunning face he’d seen the night before. From the moment Olivia had taken her first elegant steps on stage, John had found himself immediately arrested by her performance, curious about the woman who had the ability to rouse emotion from his heart simply by twirling across a stage.

  When he’d sought her out after the show, he had not been surprised to learn that she, not unlike her father, possessed a presence that commanded attention. He had almost forfeited the plan, unable to stomach the idea of hurting an innocent woman, especially one with such talents. But it was not hard to recognize Richard King in those violet eyes, and so he had found the determination to continue with his original intent.