“Please,” he urges. “I should get a shirt on.”
I follow him in and wait on the sofa as he pulls a shirt on. When he comes back out, he sits next to me, picking up my hand.
“To answer your question, no. I haven’t spoken to Finn about any secrets. Is it possible that he overheard us talking? I think we were discussing secrets here on the property one time.”
Maybe.
That actually makes sense. Finn does have a way of quietly slipping around.
I relax, my shoulders slumping. Dare stares at me.
“Did you really think Finn would get into a deep conversation with me?” He eyes me doubtfully. I shrug.
“No. I guess not. I’m just… frustrated. He’s hiding something. It’s making him worse and he won’t talk to me about it. He’ll never be able to go to college alone at this rate.”
Which means that I won’t be able to, either.
It’s something that makes me feel panicky, guilty and dejected about at once.
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Dare presses me. “I thought you wanted to go with him.”
“I do,” I say quickly, too quickly. “I mean. Yes. I do. But at the same time, I guess I was warming up to the idea that he wants some separation. I thought it would give me an opportunity to maybe have a love life. With you, for instance.”
I feel sheepish now, ashamed, embarrassed. What kind of sister am I?
Dare lifts my chin with his finger. “Don’t feel guilty about that,” he tells me. “You have the right to a life of your own, too, you know. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
I nod, not believing him.
He grins at me, and for a second, just one, I feel like everything is fine. “Let’s get out of here today.”
I nod immediately. “Ok. Where?”
Dare stares out his window, toward the ocean. “Out there. Where we’re boundless.”
LIVE FREE.
“Ok,” I agree.
We’re in my boat within five minutes. Me in a short sundress and sunscreen, and Dare in his dark jeans and none.
“You’re going to get skin cancer,” I stare at him.
“I’m not,” he answers. I don’t argue because I like his bare chest, and the way the muscles ripple across his shoulders as he moves. I pause on my way to the helm, long enough to run my fingers over the letters of his tattoo. His skin is hot beneath my fingertips, and the friction makes me grit my teeth.
“I’m going to show you someplace new,” I tell him, guiding the boat out of the bay and toward a small rock pier down the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get there, and I urge the boat aground so that we can step out onto land.
I hold my hand out to Dare and he takes it, climbing down next to me. We walk all the way out to the tip of the land finger, where the fingernail would be.
Dare sits, and I sit next to him, our feet splayed out in front of us on the rocks.
We’re surrounded by nothing but the air and water, we’re utterly alone out here, with no one to overhear or watch us like we’re fish in a bowl.
The salty breeze blows Dare’s hair around his face and I turn to him.
“I’m ready to use another question,” I tell him. He grins.
“So soon? It’s only been days since the last one.”
I ignore that. “Why are you such a gentleman?”
Meaning, why are you so resolute to keep your distance until I figure my shit out?
He shifts his weight and crosses his feet at the ankles. “So you’ve noticed.”
His tone is wry. I roll my eyes.
“Seriously. Why are you trying to force me into doing something for my own good that I don’t want to do? All for the sake of being a gentleman? Maybe being a gentleman is overrated and archaic.”
He scoffs at that, shielding his eyes from the sun with long fingers of one hand. I stare at his silver ring glinting in the light.
“It’s not, trust me.” The way he said that is so knowing, so strange.
I raise an eyebrow and he sighs.
“My step-father, while refined and rich, was not a gentleman behind closed doors. From the time I was very small, I decided that I would always be the opposite of him. My mother always gave me lessons on what a gentleman should do. She spoke of those traits with such…reverence that I knew that’s what I wanted to be.” He pauses. “Are you going to make fun of me now?”
He stares at me, his jaw so sculpted, his eyes so guarded. I find all I want to do is reach out and stroke the coarseness of his stubble with my hand. “No,” I tell him. “Not at all.”
Because he made that hidden part of me ache, the maternal place, the place that wants to protect him from everything, even if that means from me.
“What did your step-father do?”
My question is quiet in its simplicity and Dare sighs again.
“You’re really burning through your questions today.”
I nod, but I don’t back down.
“My stepfather was unfortunately, very much like his mother. A very calculating, controlling person. He had to have everything his way exactly and those people who didn’t comply were punished severely.”
I swallow hard at the closed look on Dare’s beautiful face.
“How severely?”
He turns to look at me, his black eyes staring into my soul.
“Severely.”
My heart twinges at the vulnerable pain in Dare’s eyes. He thinks he’s concealing it, but he’s not. “And being the rogue that you are, I’m guessing you were punished a lot.”
He nods and looks out at the sea and I pick up his hand, spinning his ring round and round.
“And no one interfered? Not your mother or your grandmother?”
He looks at me now, stricken. “She’s my step-grandmother. And of course she wouldn’t interfere. She never approved of me. She thinks I deserved everything I got and then some. My mother… she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t stand against the two of them. They were an unstoppable force.”
“Why didn’t your mom leave him? If he was so bad, I mean?” I ask hesitantly.
“It’s not always that easy,” he answers tiredly. “Where would she have gone? She didn’t have anywhere to go.”
The feel of this conversation is dark and ominous and scary. I examine his face, the planes and angles, and grip his hand harder. “Well, now that your mom is gone, you’re done with your step-father’s family. Thank goodness. You’re here in America and they can’t hurt you anymore.”
He sighs, a ragged sound, his slender fingers weaving around my own. “Can’t they?”
I start to answer and he interrupts. “You’ve burned through most of your questions, Cal. It seems to me like you’ve only got a couple left.”
I nod, because he’s right. “I’ve only got one more to ask today, and then I’ll save my last one for later.”
Nerves cause my heart to pound, adrenaline to rush, rush, rush through my veins as I look at him, the Adonis sitting next to me. Do it. Do it. Everything about him touches me… his voice, his story, his vulnerability that he tries so hard to hide. All of it. I want him. All of him.
“You’ve been such a gentleman,” I start, before I lose my nerve. “And it’s sexy as hell, I’ll admit. You’re sexy. And beautiful. And I want to be close to you, Dare. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Dare swallows. I see his throat move, I see him grip his leg with long fingers.
“And?” he asks hesitantly. “What is your question?”
He swallows again.
“Be with me,” I urge him. “Today. Right now. Out here where it’s only the two of us. Please.”
Dare closes his eyes, and his face is bathed by the sun.
“That’s not a question,” he states softly. But his hands are gripping his legs so tightly his knuckles are turning white.
I move over, close, close, closer. Until my thigh is pressed against his, and I unclasp his fingers from his thighs. Leaning over our int
ertwined hands, I kiss his neck, beginning at the base, slowly and softly working my way up to his ear.
“Will you be with me? Today?” I whisper in his ear. With my last raspy word, I release his hand and slide mine along his inner thigh. I feel him harden beneath my fingers, pulsing through his jeans.
He closes his eyes and I tighten my fingers, increasing my grip.
“Don’t,” he whispers. His voice husky and so sexy.
“That’s not an answer,” I tell him, stroking him through the denim. A surge of feminine power shoots through me, lifting me up, propelling me onward, until my own hormones explode and cloud my thoughts.
“I want you, Dare,” I tell him hotly, all logic and reason abandoning me. And then I kiss him, pressing my body into his, plunging my tongue into his hot mouth. His hands come up and lift me until I’m straddling him and I feel his hardness, his rigidity, pressing between my legs.
He’s hard for me.
I swallow hard, absorbing his moan, sucking it down.
“You don’t know what you want,” he rasps into my neck.
“I do,” I insist quietly, rocking in his lap, grinding my hips into his, creating an exquisite, amazing friction. “I’ve wanted you all along.”
Dare pulls away, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with want for me. Warmth floods me, wetting my panties and I cling to him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” My answer is simple.
With a growl, Dare scoops me up, and carries me down the peninsula, to a place where the ground is soft. He lays me down, on his knees above me, gloriously back-lit.
“I shouldn’t,” he wavers.
“You have to,” I tell him, grabbing him and pulling him down on top of me.
His weight is delicious and perfect and he molds into me, making it seem like we’re one person as we writhe together, trying desperately to get closer.
His tongue finds mine, as his fingers explore my body, every inch, every hidden place. I arch against him, palmed in his hand, as he finds where I want him the most.
“Please,” I say softly, my breath escaping me. Dare smiles against my lips, knowing the effect on me, knowing and loving it.
He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine, and we’re so very close that I can feel his breath mingling with mine as his hands work absolute magic. Pleasure laps against me, like the water against the shore and I lose all cognizant thought, and instinct takes over.
I tug at his jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them away, and suddenly, he’s naked and in my hand, long and thick and bare.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can only move.
I slide my hand along him, softly, gently, then harder, harder.
He bucks into me, his eyes shuttering closed.
“I’ve waited for this,” he murmurs into my neck, as he wedges his rigidity into my thighs, closer, closer. “For so long.”
“Please,” I say again, my hand cupped around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine, so I can taste him, inhale him. He pulls off my sundress, and stares at me in the sunlight, as the light exposes every plane of my body to his searching eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes glittering in the sun. “You’re so much better than I deserve.”
Wordlessly, he pulls back for a moment, and I protest, but then I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and he’s back, and he’s sliding into me and I can’t think anymore.
Motions become blurs, blurs become colors, and all I can do is feel.
His hands, his mouth, his skin. The way he slides in and out of me, the friction causing me to crest in waves, his fingers bringing me to it faster.
“I…you… God,” I manage to say, because the words I want won’t come.
Dare smiles slightly and slides back into me, moaning my name.
“I want you to know me,” he says, his voice a husky chant. “I want you know me.”
I’m knowing him now like I’ve wanted to for weeks. Intimate and close and I can’t believe this is finally happening, I can’t believe it’s so amazing, I can’t focus, I can’t focus, I can’t focus.
The lights, the sun, the sea, Dare’s scent, his fingers, his hands.
I grip his back, where his words say LIVE FREE and I’ve never felt freer in my entire life.
And then my world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors and lights.
I’m limp as I cling to him, as he finally arches against me and groans and says my name in a ragged whisper before collapsing against me, his head against my chest, his beautiful hands holding me close.
I can’t even answer. My legs are shaky, my mind is spinning. But as I come back to myself, as my thoughts form logically together again, as the sun hangs heavy in the sky, with the oranges and reds on the water, something comes to me. Something Dare said in the heat of the moment, exact words that I’ve heard before in my dreams.
You’re better than I deserve.
35
TRIGENTA QUINQUE
My swollen lips part and I stare at him, at the face I love, at the lips that just spoke words from my dream.
It’s impossible.
Yet it’s not.
“You… there’s something….” my voice trails off and he looks at me questioningly, a smile lingering on his lips, the after effects of something beautiful.
Something that’s now tarnished by ugliness.
By confusion.
“You said I’m better than you deserve,” I say shakily, not wanting to speak the truth, because the truth sounds crazy. “Why would you say that?”
He shrugs. “Because you’re soft and honest and beautiful. You’re better than I deserve.”
“But why?” I demand persistently, refusing his answer. “You must have a reason.”
He shakes his head, still staring, still questioning.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I tell him.
“Life doesn’t make sense sometimes, Cal,” is his only reply. He takes his hand away now, the warmth gone from me, and my fingers turn instantly cool with the breeze.
It’s his turn to examine me, to study me in the breeze.
“Do you feel ok?” he asks hesitantly. “Are you… do you… you seem different.”
I shake my head. “I’m just the same. I just… those words stood out to me somehow, like I’ve heard them before, like you’ve said them before.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he turned pale. He shakes his head slowly, with such a strange expression on his face.
“Do you know why?” he asks strangely, an odd glint in his eye, his beautiful lips pulled tight.
“No. Do you?”
He gives me a droll look. “Why would I know your mind?” he asks vaguely, but his face tells a different story as an expression that puts my nerves on edge floods his face.
“How cryptic,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “I’m not trying to be. It’s just… I thought… never mind. You’ve got enough to worry about right now without adding more to it.”
“Everyone has secrets,” I say blankly, my heart numb. He nods.
“Yeah. I guess.”
My blood is ice, my heart is heavy, my very being filled with terror and foreboding, when just a scant moment ago, I was filled with exquisite belonging. It’s been shattered now, by the sheer expression on Dare’s face.
“What are yours?” I ask calmly. “Your secrets, I mean. What are they, Dare? You’re hiding something and I know it. Just tell me.”
He looks sad as he looks away from me, and that terrifies me even more. My heart picks up a little as I wait, pounding in my chest, echoing in my temples.
He’s hiding something.
“I can’t tell you. Not right now. It’s not a good time.” His voice is expressionless, solemn.
“Will there ever be a good time?” I ask. He shrugs.
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
I don’t like that answer.
“We just…
I… I trusted you,” I tell him limply. “And I know you’re keeping a secret and I know it affects me. I can’t…I can’t.”
I crawl off the slippery rocks and walk quietly back to the boat without another word. Lately, I feel more and more like I’m the crazy one, like I’m losing my mind, like the whole world is composed of secrets and I don’t have the slightest clue how to figure them out.
Dare follows me and lifts my hand to help me into the boat.
The quiet between us is loaded and charged and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel like I’m standing on a precipice and if I make one move, I’ll fall.
When we’re halfway across the bay, Dare sits straight up.
“Let’s go to your little cove,” he suggests softly.
He sits on the hull, his shirtless chest gleaming in the dying light, his eyes vulnerable and hopeful and I can’t say no.
Instead, I just wordlessly steer toward the cove and wedge the boat on the sand. I don’t know why, I just don’t want to stay here. I have to move. I have to think. I have to try and stay sane, because it feels like I’m fraying.
I don’t know why.
All I know is… I suddenly feel lost.
Dare holds my hand as we walk through the water, to the enclosed little inlet that I so love. Without a word, I dig out the little bag holding the lighter and I make a little driftwood bonfire.
With the violet light surrounding us , we sit facing each other over a tide pool. The moon rises over the edge of the water and this place seems ethereal and peaceful and infinite.
“Do you trust me?” Dare asks seriously, his eyes ever-so-dark. He brushes a tendril of my hair behind my ear. “I mean, really trust me?”
I’m puzzled by that, by his uncertainty.
I’m scared by the hidden meaning of his words.
I reach up and trace the lines of his face, the cleft in his chin, the strong jaw, his forehead.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask finally. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”
“That’s not an answer,” he replies.
“Then yes,” I tell him quickly. “I trust you.”
Don’t I?
He stares into my eyes, his hands on my knees. “Would you still trust me if I told you that I want to tell you everything. That I want to spill all of my secrets, everything that you’ve been wondering about… but I can’t?”