Land of Entrapment

by Andi Marquette

  “Where are you?” She sounded concerned.

  “Actually, I’m at your house. Jeff’s not here and I really didn’t want to be alone at Megan’s. I hope that’s okay.”

  “That is more than okay,” she said, relief in her voice. “I’m just leaving Santa Fe. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in a few. Bye.” She hung up and I exhaled, feeling really drained. If I could just lie down for a couple of months and not think about anything, my life would be complete. I locked the front door and flipped the swamp cooler on before heading left through the archway into the hallway that connected the bedrooms. Jeff’s was to the left and Sage’s to the right. The bathroom was located between the two rooms. A spacious linen closet marked the wall between the bathroom and Jeff’s room. I had never actually been in Sage’s room.

  Maybe I should just sleep on the couch until she got home. No, I really wanted to be in a bed.

  The door to her bedroom stood half-open. I entered and immediately thought, oh, my God. Sage is really a gay man. Her furniture looked like Ikea or some other Swedish designer who wore elegant black trousers and tailored shirts. Everything in her room broadcast smooth, clean lines with hints of industrial post-modern, expressed through things like the handles on her armoire and the wavy vertical bars of her bed’s headboard and footboard. The bed itself was positioned at an angle in the corner of the room, opposite the door. A tan comforter, accented with blue and gold medallion-looking designs, decorated the mattress. She had hung several photographs around the room. Turkey, Italy, Greece. She had chosen rich earth tones for her color scheme and accented them with splashes of maroon, yellow, and blue. A large area rug that looked Turkish decorated the floor. It reached almost to the door and halfway under the bed. Six elegant candle stands stood around the room, each graced with a beeswax pillar candle.

  All had been used.

  I found a book of matches on one of the bedside tables and fired up the candles. When I turned off the overhead light the effect was magical. “Wow,” I breathed. A haven. That’s what this room was. Hell, that’s what Sage is for me. I left the candles burning, since Sage would be home soon. I took my shoes and socks off and placed them on the floor near the armoire, then slipped out of my jeans, folded them, and placed them on my shoes. I took my shirt off and removed my bra and then put my shirt back on.

  I pulled the comforter back—Sage was almost as anal as Megan was about making a bed—and eased between the cool sheets. Everything smelled of Sage, vibrated with her presence, welcomed me. I relaxed, felt the day work its way out of my thoughts, felt sleep claim me. I don’t know how long I dozed. It didn’t seem but a minute that I had shut my eyes when I heard soft movements that registered in the part of my brain that hadn’t succumbed to deeper sleep yet. I opened my eyes, relaxed but confused and rolled over.

  “Hi,” Sage said. She had already stacked some of her equipment near the closet door.

  “So how did it go?” I sat up, moving the sheets and comforter aside, studying her in the candlelight.

  She wore an elegant form-fitting black dress that fell just below her knees. The neckline plunged to the tops of her breasts. It hugged everything. Every curve, every line of muscle. She had her hair tied back. I forgot anything else. “You look—damn.” My heart pounded.

  “Thanks,” she said, laughing softly as she took her earrings out. She then pulled the tie out of her hair, describing the opening as she did so. I was caught up in the candlelight that cast shadows across her skin, across her amazing shoulders. Amazing everything. Her hair fell softly around her face, animated as she told me that she’d sold fifteen photographs out of twenty-five. She was extremely excited about that and she had met with four benefactors, which was a major plus. She was confident that two, at least, would help fund a couple of trips in the future. I sat watching her, listening to her, drinking her in. “That’s awesome,” I said, meaning it.

  She stopped suddenly and looked at me, serious.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

  She sat down on the bed next to me and brushed my hair away from my forehead.

  I shook my head. “Later.” I reached for her hand.

  “I just really need to be near you right now.”

  She smiled. “I can do that.” She stroked my cheek with her hand. “I got a call today from Joe Montoya.”

  A grin tugged the side of my mouth.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she said, an odd expression on her face. Sort of puzzled but relieved.

  And something else that I couldn’t identify.

  “Did what?” I said innocently.

  She shook her head, smiling. “It’s funny. Those are two of my favorite pictures. It took me two hours to get my equipment into that canyon. Not counting the three-hour hike into the backcountry.” She sat back, looking at me. “They’re the same canyon, actually. But I had to stay out there for two days to make sure I got the right light.”

  “They spoke to you,” I said softly.

  She looked at me sharply.

  “The people who decorated the walls,” I elaborated.

  “They did. It was magical. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to sell those images, but I had a feeling that the right person would buy them.” She arched an eyebrow. “When—”

  “Saturday afternoon. I needed to see some of your work. So I went to the gallery and I saw those two pictures and I knew that no matter what happened between us, I’d have a part of you. And I’d always treasure that.”

  She fell silent for a while, holding my hand. When she spoke, she raised her gaze to mine. “I told Joe to call me when those sold. I do like to know who’s buying my stuff for the most part, but those in particular, I really wanted to know.”

  “I was going to tell you, but I totally forgot.” I shrugged, sheepish.

  An expression entered her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. It spoke of rivers in the desert, of new trees in the wake of forest fires, and the whispers of kachina spirits on the wind. I pulled my hand gently from hers and took her face in my hands. I ran the tips of my thumbs along her cheekbones and I saw that path in her eyes again. This time, I took it. I leaned in, brought my lips to hers and felt heat race through my veins, infuse my muscles, and burn away the ghosts of my past that lingered on my bones. I felt hope enter my mouth with her tongue, felt want beneath her hands on my back, and I knew, then, what it meant to find a place in someone’s heart.

  Hurricane. Mystic. Nature Girl. Artist. I let myself fall into her, allowed myself to wander across her lips and journey within the circle of her arms. She welcomed me. Protected me. Drew the day’s debris from my skin with the power of her kisses. I wanted to cry and laugh as I finally pulled away, staring into her eyes. “Sage,” I whispered.

  “Are you all right?” She said it softly. “We can wait.”

  “I’m more than all right. And I don’t want to wait.”

  She stroked my face, smiling. She gently pushed me back onto the bed and pressed herself against me.

  I wrapped my arms around her and she kissed me again. Her fingers buried themselves in my hair, stroked my face, danced over my shoulders. I rolled over, bringing her with me. My breathing sped up, echoing my heartbeat and the throbbing between my thighs. Our kisses deepened and her mouth was more insistent on mine. Her lips tasted and felt like life itself. Her hands moved underneath my shirt and her fingers tracked lines across my back. I tore away from her kiss and ran my lips along her jaw, down her neck. She gasped and pulled me against her. I felt like I was either going to pass out or explode. Maybe both at the same time.

  She grabbed the bottom of my shirt, began pulling it over my head. I helped her and she finished the job, tossing it onto the floor. She had that devilish grin going and I knew I was in for a hell of a night. I found the zipper on her dress—it ran vertically down her left side. The dress and her bra soon joined my shirt
on the floor. She was wearing black silk panties. My breath caught at the sight of her nearly nude, revealed in the soft light of the candles. I could only stare, awestruck. I ran my fingers from her neck to her abdomen, tracking between her breasts. She arched into my touch.

  “You’re beyond beautiful.” I straddled her hips and the heat emanating from her took my breath away. Leaning down, I teased her nipples with my tongue. She groaned and tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me against her. I closed my lips around one of her nipples, sucking and pulling gently, loving how she felt between my teeth. She moaned and another surge of moisture collected between my thighs. I wanted to touch every part of her, kiss every part of her, and take as much time as possible.

  I started with her face and ears, then mapped her neck and shoulders, tasting my dreams mingling with hers on her skin. She was thrusting slowly against me, then grinding. I met each of her movements, matched her rhythm as my lips explored her arms. “You’re exquisite,” I murmured, my lips on her fingertips. I slowly drew her index finger into my mouth, sucked it gently and released it. She pressed her hand against my cheek and I leaned into her palm, caught up in the way her body moved with mine. Her other hand rested at the small of my back and her fingers tugged at the waistband of my underwear, breached the boundary between cloth and skin.

  She quickly adjusted her angle and her mouth found one of my nipples. Her lips were like feathers and they spawned mini-tornadoes from my breasts to my clit. “K.C.,” she whispered, her breath hot on my chest. “I need to feel you.”

  I braced myself above her and both her hands were suddenly on my hips. She pushed my underwear down. I shifted and helped her as she nipped and nuzzled my breasts. I was breathing so hard I thought I might pass out. She slid her own panties off and all I could do was bite my lip at the sight of her. She was beautiful. No, stunning. Unreal.

  “What did I do right?” I whispered.

  “You jumped.” I felt her hand between my thighs, felt her fingertips ease through my moisture. I moaned and watched as she brought her fingers to her lips. She grinned at the taste of me, which only made the ache deep within me push harder against my bones. She kissed me again and I pulled her against me, her heat mingling with mine, her desire fueling mine. Our legs entwined and the intensity of our thrusts increased. I don’t think I had ever been so wet, so completely connected to another human being. My heart jumped into my throat, my blood pounded in my ears, and nothing but Sage mattered. I lowered my lips to her shoulder, tasted sweat.

  She eased her fingers between us and I shifted so she could enter and I groaned at how she felt within me. “Oh, God—Sage. What you do to me...”

  “And what I’ll keep doing to you,” she teased, lips on my neck. She was thrusting, gently. Her thumb was moving against my clit and every breath I took sounded more like a gasp. “You’re so damn sexy,” she muttered against my lips. “The first time I saw you in person, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  I groaned again in response, wrapped around her fingers, the feel of drums deep within luring me toward a cliff.

  “And you don’t even realize it,” she laughed softly, her breath coming in short bursts. “Everything about you.” She increased her thrusts slightly, staring into my eyes. “I didn’t want to put too much stock in stories about you from another person.” She slowed then, gently easing me back from the precipice. “But then you stood up and shook my hand and you looked right at me.” She matched the motions of her hand with her hips.

  I moaned, powerless though I managed a grin. “I knew I was in for trouble. I think—oh, God,” I said at a particularly delicious thrust. “I think they should name hurricanes after you.”

  She laughed and kissed me, drawing my tongue into her mouth and sucking it hard before she released it.

  “So it wasn’t just me feeling something that night.” She chewed gently on my neck. I had no coherent thoughts.

  She increased the speed of her thrusts. Her fingers plunged deep within me and the angle of her thumb on my clit took me right to an edge again. The drumbeat within me neared a crescendo.

  “No,” I managed. “You were just the first to do something about it.” My lungs contracted and I hovered on the edge. “I’m close,” I said with a gasp, meeting her thrusts, incapable of doing anything else.

  “I know,” she whispered, urgent. “I think I’ll join you.”

  I held off as long as I could, staring into her eyes and then the room receded until there was nothing except the connection between us and the pounding of my blood in my skull.

  “Jump,” she breathed. “Jump with me.”

  I did and I heard a low, deep growl as I plummeted over the edge, bringing her with me somehow. I heard my name on her lips again and as I settled back to earth, I realized that the growl had been mine. I collapsed against her, shaking. Little lightning currents raced up and down my arms and legs. She held me tenderly, stroked my hair and back.

  “Well, you’re clearly not the silent type,” she said against my ear. I heard laughter in her voice.

  I chuckled. “Thanks for sticking around to find out.”

  She hugged me.

  “I hope you stick around a bit longer,” I continued tentatively. I wanted every possible second she’d give me. I had looked into the eyes of Hurricane Sage and everything changed.

  She pulled my face to hers and kissed me before she answered. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” she said then and I felt a molten peace settle in my veins at her words, at the expression in her eyes. I touched her lips with my fingertips, followed a line to her breasts where I coaxed her nipples to stiffen against my hand. My fingers continued their journey to her thighs and the places she wanted to share with me.

  I grinned. “Hmm. Silent type? Or not?” I slid my fingers into her heat, pulled them out and brought them to my lips. The taste of her shot through me like an electrical charge. She kissed me, then pulled away.

  “Why don’t you find out?” she teased, as she guided my hand back to her thighs.

  “I will,” I murmured against her lips. Another storm brewed within me. And I welcomed it.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  MELISSA STOOD LOOKING around the living room of Megan’s place. I went to the fridge and got her an iced tea. She took it wordlessly, absently shaking it up before unscrewing the top.

  “So Megan’s going to be staying with you?” I stared at the bottle of tea in my own hand.

  She nodded and took a sip.

  I cleared my throat. “Good. I think that’s really good. How are you doing?”

  “Okay. Thank God there’s no lasting physical damage.” She put a slight emphasis on “physical.”

  “Any idea what Megan’ll want to do next?”

  She shrugged. “She asked for a few days to clear her head a bit. So I’m not asking. I do know she doesn’t want to live in this house anymore. She was very clear about that when we left the hospital yesterday. But I’m not pushing her.”

  I reached out and squeezed her arm gently. “Well done.”

  She sighed. “I’m really trying not to fall back into my big sister nagging routine with her. I mean, she is an adult.” She took another sip from her bottle.

  “She has to find her own way, no matter how hard that is for you. And her.”

  “I just want her to stay away from all that racist crap.” She stopped and looked at me. “So I guess you’ll be leaving soon.”

  I thought I detected a trace of regret in her voice.

  “Um, that’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “I’m...” I hesitated and glanced away, then glanced back “I’m thinking about staying on through the fall. I might be able to get an article about the Rats, in terms of group dynamics and development.

  That sort of thing. But also, I’ll be able to hammer away on the book.”

  Melissa was quiet, staring at the floor. “And?”

  Damn. S
he could still read me.

  “I’ve missed New Mexico. And Chris. And you and Megan, actually.”

  She looked up at me then, skepticism on her face.

  “Kase, you’ve never been very good at hiding things.

  What’s the other reason?”

  I ran a hand through my hair and chewed my lip.

  “I, um, I might have met someone.”

  She stared at me for a long time. I didn’t look away, waiting for her reaction. A slow smile edged her mouth. My whole body relaxed.

  “Do I want to know who she is?” A familiar little twinkle danced in her eyes.

  “You already do.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I know it’s not Chris...” she trailed off and then inhaled sharply. “Oh, my God,”

  she said, shock in her voice. “Sage?”

  I shifted my weight nervously.

  “Sage? Really?” Melissa stared at me, a mixture of disbelief and shock in her expression.

  I looked at her, helpless.

  Still smiling, she shook her head. “I would never have put you two together.”

  “Me, either,” I said wryly. “Never say never, I guess.”

  “I’m amazed. And you think it’s serious enough to warrant staying for another couple of months?”

  “I won’t know unless I do. And the timing is really good. I’m on sabbatical, after all. Plus, I’ll be doing some research and...” my voice faded as I watched Melissa struggling not to laugh. “What?”

  “You. Ever the pragmatist. What does your heart say?”

  ¿Qué dice tu corazón? Chris’s words echoed Melissa’s. And I had answered her the same way I did Melissa. “It says to stay, that Sage is someone special.”

  Her expression softened. “Then I’m happy for you.” A shadow momentarily clouded her expression.

  “Meliss’—”

  “Hey, don’t worry. The thought did cross my mind, about getting back with you. But there’s too much to sort through and I like how things are between us now.” She took my free hand in hers and squeezed it. “Maybe that’s what guided me to Texas.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there, holding on to her hand. How weird, talking to an ex about the possibility of a new relationship with someone else.