Paradise Lust

by Kates, Jocelyn

  “Good,” he murmured, and thrust his pelvis more firmly against hers. She moaned again, but this time kept his gaze.

  Ajuni’s hands moved down the sides of her thighs and then around back. He slid them down, bending slightly to move them over her ass, her upper thighs. When he reached the point just above the backs of her knees, he suddenly clutched her legs and pulled them up. She gasped, taken aback, but was surprised to feel her body reacting before her mind had even processed the movement. Supported by his hands, her legs sprung off the floor and wrapped around his waist, and her arms encircled his neck, holding on for support. She ran her fingers through his long, dark hair, now free from the tight knot he wore during practice, and was surprised to find it tangled and textured with sweat. So he is human, she thought vaguely.

  And then they were moving, Ajuni walking with her in his arms, his face buried in her neck. With wet lips and hot breath, he covered her collarbone, her throat, her jawline in kisses. As his mouth reached the bottom of her ear, she felt her back press roughly against something. The wall. Pulling his face back to look at hers, Ajuni spoke.

  “Down,” he said, the softness of the command making it more forceful than any instruction she’d heard him utter before.

  Reluctantly releasing his body from her grip, she unlocked her legs and hopped down to the floor. She could feel herself pulsing with need. She wanted to reach out and press him against her again, pull him out of his pants and into her, but she stayed perfectly still, waiting for his next move. She willed him to touch her, her body crying out for the satisfaction.

  He took one step toward her and stood patiently. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt his hand tickle the soft skin of her inner thigh. The touch gained pressure as it moved up, coming to press his fingers firmly into the juncture of her legs, provoking a gasp from Adele, before quickly continuing to move up. He stopped at the waistband of her shorts, and tucked the very tip of his index finger underneath the elastic.

  “Down,” he repeated. Again, as if Ajuni’s commands spoke to her body and not to her brain, Adele reacted, feeling as though she was observing her own actions. She watched herself tug her little shorts off her hips and down her legs, leaving her standing in a stringy green thong. She stood still for a moment, letting Ajuni admire her, feeling a delicious power as she saw the desire in his eyes, the hungry twitching of his hands by his sides.

  But then his eyes had snapped back to attention, and he gave her a quick and commanding nod, a nod she implicitly knew the meaning of. Without hesitation, she tugged her thong down and kicked it to the side.

  Ajuni grabbed her again from behind, and this time she didn’t need any instruction. She wrapped her legs around him again, and let her lips come to his muscled shoulder as he pulled himself out of his pants and pressed her back against the wall. She felt the full length of his erection against her, and then he was angling back, positioning himself, and entering her. She wrapped her legs more tightly as he moved inside her, and clutched his neck to gain leverage against his thrusts. Her head looked down over his shoulder, watching his powerful ass move back and forth as he drove himself into her. The strange ethereal detachment continued, and later she wouldn’t be able to remember the physical sensation of the moment, just the image.

  All of the desperate need she’d felt a moment earlier had suddenly vanished. She realized that her tight clutch on Ajuni’s neck had transformed from a grip of desire and passion to clinging on for dear life. The physical exhaustion of the past two days, the tiredness she’d been floating above on a stream of adrenaline, suddenly hit her like a train, and it was all she could do to hold on as Ajuni thrust himself deep inside of her, pushing against the wall, filling her up with his throbbing penis. He grunted and mumbled a few unintelligible words, and she found herself surprised that he would display such a carnal, uncontrolled side of himself, even in the throes of passion.

  She felt him swell inside her and knew that he was about to come. As he pulled out, she sprung off of him, landing lightly on the floor, and her gaze immediately fell on the still-open door to the studio. The grassy lawn where he’d found her sitting not fifteen minutes before remained empty, but someone stood at the edge of the lawn, partially obscured by a banyan tree. Adele thought the silhouette of curly hair looked like Val, but before she could make sure, Ajuni had stepped in front of her and obscured her view.

  He pushed her toward the wall, gently this time, and set his face not three inches from hers.

  “You understand what I mean now?” He said, suddenly transformed from a grunting, coming, horny man back to the statuesque guru he’d been before. “About the handstand?”

  “Yes,” she said, and gave a small nod. She had no idea what he was talking about.

  Chapter 14

  Danny held two pieces of paper in his hands, looking down at both, seeing neither. Jumbled thoughts swirled through his brain, the emotions that accompanied each equally jumbled, and often volatile. He felt pangs of panic—had he done the wrong thing?—confident calmness—yes, everything will be fine—despair—what’s even the point of any of this?—and a flurry of other feelings that didn’t stick around long enough to identify.

  He lifted one sheet of paper closer, and let the hand holding the other drop to his side. Focusing his eyes on the words, he read a few snatches, scrawled out in his own handwriting, “There’s no excuse for any behavior that hurts another person, maliciously or not…I’m ashamed…please believe that I am more than the sum of my work life.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight, took a deep breath, and opened them. Then he switched hands, bringing the other paper closer.

  “Snooping through my pockets then stalking me online? Classy. Very classy. I’m not sure you have the right to claim the moral high ground here, Adele.” He shook his head violently, as if trying to shake out a particularly bad rush of emotion that had swept through.

  Putting both pieces of paper in one hand, he folded them neatly into thirds and tucked them into his pocket. It wasn’t doing any good to read and reread the letters. He’d made his choice about which version to give her, and he needed to make peace with that. She had by now received, and presumably read, the letter, and there was no other action he could reasonably take. If she felt compelled to respond, she would. If not, he needed to let it go.

  But had the letter said the right thing? Was he being the pompous jerk he’d been in his younger years, the a-hole he’d spent so much energy trying to transform, or at least suppress? At this point, try as he might, he really didn’t think he could pick the “right” thing to do out of a police lineup.

  Not that that’s what mattered. Not at all, in fact. He kept returning to that idea—despite the moral dilemma circling in his mind, his gut and his heart couldn’t care less about that aspect. It bothered him to no end, conflicted entirely with the sense of self he’d carefully constructed, but he didn’t give an orangutan’s tail about the ethical justifications. He just wanted Adele.

  As if to torture himself, his mind kept conjuring images of her on the other side of the grass, her hair damp with ocean spray, smiling at him and then running across the lawn toward his cabin, the way she’d done just two days earlier. He could see the gentle bounce of her breasts as she ran, picture the curving cups of her bikini perfectly in his mind’s eye. He pictured the delicate strides, her feet landing on the balls, the muscles of her tanned, bare legs. Again, he shook his head violently. This idyllic image hurt him even more than the confused anger he’d felt earlier.

  “I’m surprised you’re not out there,” a low female voice said, and adrenaline surged through Danny’s veins for a millisecond, before his brain understood that it wasn’t her. Looking up, he saw a taut, bikini-clad body at the bottom of his porch steps, but it wasn’t the one he’d been imagining. This woman was more petite, and her hair was a wild mane of blonde curls, rather than Adele’s silky chestnut hair. Val, he thought, remembering her name. They’d met briefly on one of the first nights that the y
ogis had arrived.

  “Pardon?” Danny said, gathering himself, trying to transition from the internal world of fantasy and regret to the external one of people and things.

  “Out there,” Val repeated, a smile curing her sun-swollen lips. She gestured toward the ocean behind her with one hand. Her other arm was wrapped around a surfboard. For the first time that afternoon, Danny noticed that the surf was incredible that day. Big, slow breakers, curling evenly along the shoreline, the swell regular and voluptuous. How had he not seen that before?

  “Oh, damn,” he said, and instinctively stood up from the bench. “That’s pretty gorgeous.”

  “I’ll wait for you,” she said, her voice friendly, her eyes cheerful.

  Yes, he thought. That’s just what I need. Some good surf, some distracting conversation with a cute girl. Water, sunshine.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be just a sec.” He jogged inside, grabbed his surfboard, slathered some sunscreen on his shoulders and nose, and emerged moments later. “Let’s go.”

  The surf was just as great as it had looked, and he was pleased to find that the constant orchestra of doubt and anxiety and worry and sadness quieted completely out there in the ocean. At least for a little bit. He was also pleased to have a surfing buddy. After surfing solo for so long, he’d forgotten how fun it could be to go out on the ocean with someone else. And Val’s skills were quite impressive. Her small frame and muscular legs gave her a low center of gravity, and she used this physiological advantage to tear up the waves in a way he’d never seen before.

  After some time, the surf began to die down, and Danny clambered on top of his board to rest for a minute, waiting to see if the ocean had anything more to give him that day. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Val paddling toward him. She lay on her stomach, her breasts pressed against the board, and made long, sweeping strokes with her arms. She slowed to a stop right up beside him.

  “I think we wore her out,” she said.

  Danny laughed. “I think you did,” he said.

  Val laughed in return, then rolled over onto her back, lying face up on the board. She squinted into the orange light of the sun, which had just begun to drop toward the west.

  “Not a bad life, huh?” she mused.

  “Can’t complain,” he said.

  “You live here, right?” She asked, still gazing up at the sky.

  “Yup,” he said. “Well, not at this resort, but on Bali. I’ve got an apartment in Seminyak.”

  “Lucky,” she said. “I’m toying with the idea. I do so many of these yoga retreats with Ajuni, I basically live here anyway. But I haven’t bit the bullet and given up my apartment back in New York.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Danny asked, surprised at the easy dialogue. He felt a little taken aback at how quickly they’d reached this level of familiarity, but was happy for the company.

  “Loneliness,” she said, and propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at him. “It seems like a pretty lonely life out here in paradise.” She paused, trailed her finger in the water, looked back up at Danny. “Is it?”

  He took a moment to process that. The question struck deep, especially given his current situation, and he felt his stomach clench protectively. He breathed deeply, and released it. Couldn’t hurt to talk about things, right?

  “Oftentimes, yes,” he said. “Family is so far away, and people who come to Bali tend to be transient, they just come and go. I’m kind of fine with it, though. I find my companionship in everyday things, and my life itself is fulfilling, so I guess I’ve learned to take comfort and meaning in relationships that only last for a short time.”

  He heard the phrases tumble out of his mouth, the rehearsed explanation that he’d said so many times, the explanation that, until a week or so ago, he’d truly believed. Now the words sounded completely hollow.

  “Actually,” he was surprised to hear himself continue. “I recently met someone, and she sort of turned that whole notion upside-down. Against my will,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah?” Val encouraged, her eyes bright with curiosity.

  “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “She really got to me. Made me think that maybe I wanted more lasting attachments again.”

  “So what happened? You’re speaking in the past tense.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. He moved his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the sun and, as well as from Val’s gaze.

  “I think you do know,” she said, her voice low, barely audible over the gentle sound of the waves.

  “Trust,” he said, putting his hand down and propping himself up to face her. “Trust was broken.”

  A flash of knowing acknowledgement passed over Val’s face, maybe the trace of a smile. She looked down, and when she looked back up, the curious expression was gone.

  “That’s a big deal,” she said. “Trust is huge.”

  “Is it?” he said, feeling desperate suddenly. The emotions the afternoon surf had erased came rushing back. “I mean, I know trust is a big deal, but are all breaches of trust equal? Like, isn’t it possible to do a thing that might seem big at the time, but then get past it? Forgive and forget?”

  Val just looked at him, and he could read the judgment in her face. No, her face said. No, you won’t be forgiven.

  “I guess it’s up to each person,” she shrugged, looking back up at the horizon. “I know me, I would have a hard time forgiving. I’m no saint but I take my moral code seriously. And I don’t know you that well, but you seem like a principled guy. If I were you, I wouldn’t just brush off some chick’s betrayal and hope it’s not an omen of future things to come.”

  He furrowed his brow, confused for a moment. In his mind, he’d been thinking about his breach of Adele’s trust, but it seemed that Val was imagining a hypothetical situation of the reverse. He supposed it didn’t matter either way, though. What he was hearing loud and clear was that once trust had been broken, forgiveness was unlikely. He turned that over in his head, and just as he began to get sucked back into his own jumbled internal world, Val spoke.

  “Looks like the waves have given up,” she said, her voice cheerful and bright again. “Shall we paddle in? I’m starving.”

  “Sounds good,” Danny said, and followed Val back to shore in a daze.

  Chapter 15

  On the walk to class the following morning, nerves coursed through Adele’s veins. But they weren’t the pure dread and anxiety she’d felt on the morning of their inversion workshop, nor the mixture of adrenaline and fear she’d felt after discovering Danny’s secret. Always one to value “emotional granularity”—a phrase her psychologist brother had taught her, meaning the ability to distinguish between subtle nuances of your own emotions—she dove inside herself, trying to parse out the feelings.

  But by the time she reached the yoga hut, she had no clean word or fancy phrase to describe how she felt. Instead, she kept coming back to the same simple sentence: I don’t want to see Ajuni.

  When she saw Danny for the first time after they’d made love, when she’d been perched in that tiny rock cave as he emerged from the surf, her emotions had been anything but complicated. Despite all her internal hand-wringing about whether a man would throw off her journey of self-discovery, seeing his face brought her nothing but a wave of happiness. She didn’t expect she’d feel that way when she saw Ajuni in a moment. She wasn’t sure what she’d feel, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Unable to put it off any longer, Adele took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders down and back to grow taller (a yoga posture trick now so ingrained in her muscle memory she didn’t need to think about it), and stepped inside the studio. Immediately, she gasped out loud. Her muscles tightened; her palms and underarms broke out in perspiration.

  There he was.

  He was standing near the front left corner of the room, his eyes scanning the crowd as if looking for someone, or something. Me, she thought, and quickly skittered away before his gaze reached her. Sh
e jogged to the far corner and grabbed her mat, her heart a galloping horse in her chest.

  When she turned back to the open studio, she unhappily realized that almost all of the empty space had already been taken. She was a bit late, after all. Of course, there was a mat-sized space next to him, but she was not—not—going to take that. Strange, she vaguely mused, noting the group of girls standing just a few feet apart from him, clearly ogling him, that nobody would take that spot. She shook the thought out of her mind, strode to the back of the room, and found a tiny island of space next to a woman named Janine.

  “Hey,” Adele said, ”Would you mind scooting your mat over just a tiny bit so I can fit in?”

  Janine, who had been sitting in a peaceful cross-legged position waiting for class, snapped her eyes open and narrowed them at Adele. She’d always struck Adele as prickly, but she’d never had any evidence of that impression until now.

  “Um,” Janine said, glancing dubiously at the two feet of floor Adele indicated. Janine paused, shook her head, and sighed. “Sure.” She didn’t try to hide the distaste in her voice, and stood painfully slowly, as if deliberately to make Adele nuts. She tugged her mat with a precision that seemed ridiculous, and the result left Adele with only a few more inches than she’d had before. Janine flashed what could only be described as a mocking smile, and sat back down.

  Crazy bitch, Adele thought to herself. She then realized that it was the first time she’d felt anything negative toward one of her fellow yogis—maybe even the first time she’d felt any “destructive emotions” in this yoga hut—and she felt a new wave of anger at that fact.

  She attempted to lay her mat down, but it was impossible to do so without either overlapping Janine’s—and she wasn’t going to do that—or having it run up against the wall. As she folded and fiddled and struggled with her mat, she heard Janine’s voice again.