Tempest Tossed: A Love Unexpected Novel (10 page)

Chapter 15—Rene

Hey Hannah
,

Happy Birthday to me!

It's been a few since I wrote. Sorry. Wow. Where to start? I've found out there's a lot of time to kill on board a big yacht crossing the ocean—even when you're the chef. And, guess who I've been killing it with? Yep. Hot boss himself. Only he's not technically my boss. But that's not important. Long story that can wait.

After the whole screw up I told you about before, I took your advice and played it cool. Almost too cool. But then one afternoon he convinced me to join him at the pool and we spent the afternoon just talking. Well, he did put some sunscreen on me, but that was the extent of any contact that day.

We repeated the process yesterday and today. Yesterday he kissed me. Real soft and gentle. I feel like I'm going to wind up a puddle of 'feelings' at his feet. I've never tried to put this in words before. 'Course, I've never felt this way before, either.

We were sitting on this seat in the pool. We just chill there and talk. He's always got a bottle (or two) of wine in the cooler but we sip it slowly. I've never felt the least bit out of control—well not from the wine anyway. But with him? There's like this energy between our bodies. I'm so totally aware of every inch of his skin being close to every inch of mine. I've memorized every feature of his face. You should see his eyes! They’re absolutely gorgeous. Deep, dark blue like the ocean. I've never seen eyes like that. He's got one of those jaws we used to call the soap opera dude jaw. Remember? We used to wonder if all those guys had some kind of implant? That's the way his jaw is only it isn't any implant. He strikes me as totally not the type to go in for anything fake.

The first day we went to the pool he wore this Euro bathing suit. A bikini. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw it. Not that he didn’t look perfect in it. But really, a Speedo? I guess he didn’t get the fashion memo. When he was putting the lotion on me, I think he got a hard-on 'cause he suddenly jumped into the pool and kind of hid his crotch against the wall. Yesterday and today he went back to a regular bathing suit. It suits him better. The skimpy one is just too . . . well, you know.

Anyway, back to that kiss. We were talking about fishing. Sounds utterly boring but you’d be surprised. It's something he's really passionate about. It's like he has this special relationship with the sea and everything in it. He told me how we're going to take a little detour at the Azores to hunt some blue marlin. He wants me to see what it's all about and maybe hook me up with a fish too. So I was just watching him talk, seeing the way his face lit up and his eyes just danced when he told me about how exciting it was.

"The thrill is in the hunt. It's not about catching the fish. It's about finding the fish and fighting the fish. Then it's about letting her go to swim another day." That’s more or less what he said. Reading it back makes me realize you had to be there.

But I’m telling you he made me want to know what that was like just to get that much closer to knowing what makes him tick. Have you ever had that feeling? I mean I've never even thought about catching a big game fish. But the way he made it sound and the way it affected him just drew me in. I told him I wanted to see him in action. He took my face in his hands and just kind of brushed my forehead with his lips and I closed my eyes . . . just waiting for it, you know? And he brought his mouth very close to my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. In a really sexy voice he said, "I want to see
us
in action."

Then he kissed me. Long and slow.

I stopped writing for a minute just to relive it. He had started with the barest glance of his lips against mine. The softness of the touch was almost a tickle. We both took deep breaths. He ran the tip of his tongue around my lips before he brought his mouth against mine. He found my tongue with his and played with it, sucking and teasing with restrained urgency. My hands found the back of his neck and my fingers twined into the damp curls on the back of his neck. My whole body responded to that kiss. It went through me to the tips of my finger and the ends of my toes. When he leaned down to nibble at my neck I moaned at the pleasure of his nibbling and suckling of my tender skin. He made desire throb like a beast between my legs.

Hannah, that kiss was better than any actual sex I've ever had. It was mind-blowing. I wouldn't have been surprised to see fireworks exploding over us and some symphony playing. Why didn't someone tell me what I was missing?

We kissed for a while. Long enough for me to be totally ready for anything he wanted to do. But something in me didn't want to rush. I guess he felt the same way because we just kissed and talked and kissed and talked some more.

Somewhere in all that kissing and talking I confessed that I'd never had a real orgasm with a guy. It just sort of seemed natural to tell him. He pulled me closer to him so my head rested on his shoulder and he told me that was all going to change. The next afternoon it did.

We spent a long time in a lazy haze of making out in the afternoon sun under the big umbrella that he had positioned by the side of the pool so we wouldn't fry. It seemed right. The ocean lent an endless quality to everything. The infinite blue water seemed to say: "Take it slow, you've got all the time in the world." It was a message I needed to hear. Dylan brought me to a place inside myself that I'd never been. It was exciting and frightening at the same time.

The fear had changed from a simple desire not to be a fool again to something deeper and way more dangerous. I needed time to accept the risk that went with the kind of passion I discovered in his arms. Maybe he felt the same way. Maybe it was as new to him as it was to me.

After dinner had been served and Angelo had cleaned up and gone downstairs, Dylan walked me to my door and kissed me one last time.

"Thank you for a perfect afternoon," I told him.

He smiled wickedly and ran his hands down my back until they reached my buns. He pulled me into his body. "Tomorrow I'm going to teach you what perfect really means."

So we met at the usual hour. We started off talking about his life. Well, I started off
trying
to find out about his life. He's mentioned a few things about his parents that are disturbing. Like there's a deep dark horror buried somewhere. But I can't seem to get it out of him. He's real good at changing the subject and bringing the focus back to me.  And yes, the focus was all about me. I won't give you TMI but let me just tell you. It. Finally. Happened.

Yes, my friend, Rene Waters, on the eve of her twenty-six birthday has finally achieved the Big-O with only the use of one perfect, gorgeous, sexy man. No batteries were included.

I was being cute with my best friend; I didn't want to make more of it than she would have. Hannah wasn't a drama queen. I held that title. Hannah would have let it just happen and chalked it up to one of life's happy little surprises.

For me, the fact that Dylan Cruz was able to touch me in a way that made my body do something it had never done before amazed me. It bonded me to him in ways that sex had never bonded me to a man. And the fact that he brought me to that place so naturally was more amazing still.

We were lying on a double chaise under the umbrella. He traced the outline of my face with one perfect tan finger. Anticipation crackled through the air. I was so ready to have him, so utterly and completely flushed with desire for his body I nearly shook with the power of it. There was nothing in my world except the man. He vanquished all other thoughts until he became the universe and everything in it.

His touch meandered down and explored my body. I said his name to the bright blue sky and he hummed his answer against me. Mouth. Skin. Pulse. Breath. Heat.

"Oh my beauty," he murmured. "Beautiful dove, beautiful rose."

I was delirious with need. I had lost the power to do anything more than simply submit to his touch. I let him take my body in his hand and push it where he wanted it to go. He found that undiscovered place inside me that I'd only half believed existed.

The pleasure overwhelmed me. It unleashed me and released me. I became someone else; someone I had never been before. Lost in the utter pleasure of my body's awakening, I cried out the surprise of it all.

"Oh sweet Lord, Dylan. Oh. Just Oh." I opened my eyes, still wet with the tears of rapture, and saw him smiling at me.

"Now you never have to think you're 'crippled' in any way. You're perfect."

"You made me whole."

"You were always whole. I just let you see it."

"It frightens me."

"I know." He drew a deep breath. "Me too."

Oh, Hannah, I fell asleep against his chest afterwards and he woke me up in time for me to get the dinner underway. Honestly, he must have been so turned on, but there was no pressure for me to reciprocate. I think he knew how important the 'event' was for me and he was sensitive enough to let it settle in. When he kissed me goodnight he said: "Today was just a taste. I'm saving the real gift for your birthday.”

The sun is just rising. It comes up over the bow (the front of the boat for you, landlubber) because we're headed east. It looks like another perfect day.

Love ya, R.

Chapter 16—Dylan

Being at sea, there wasn't much I could
get
in the way of a present for Rene's birthday, but I sure had a package ready for her. I felt like a teenager again. There was an innocence and newness about sex with her that was like nothing I'd experienced before. I'd never really had a 'first time' with a 'first love'. I only vaguely remembered the losing my virginity and not the girl I lost it with. Certainly there was no love involved. Not that I was anywhere near ready to put the 'L' label on what I had with Rene.

I had a lot to sort through in my head. Excitement, for one. I couldn't recall when I had had this much enthusiasm about any girl. Rene, however, was one of a kind. And the knowledge that I had done what no man had done before made me feel like a super hero. That and the realization that she actually seemed to
like
the fact that I wasn't made of money. What a ton of weight off my shoulders. To be around someone other than Stephen (who I suspect didn't completely buy my story) who knew that simple thing about me was liberating.

If I could just keep the devils from nipping at my heels, I'd be able to arrive in London a happier man than I had been in years. It would be great to face the old dog with a bit more confidence and a little less shame than the last time we saw each other.

With any luck, I'd also be able to hook a fish or two in the Azores when we steamed through the islands. El Loco was making good time and we'd soon be across the Atlantic and on our way north. But before we made the turn, I intended to do a little hunting. I had my eye on the man in the blue suit who plied the waters off Africa's west coast—the great blue marlin.

"Good morning, Lady D," I said as I opened the monkey's stateroom door. She hopped onto my shoulder and we went down to the salon level for what had become our morning routine.

We went into the kitchen and Rene greeted me with that smile I had promised myself I would earn that first time she blessed Lady D. with it. It was a gift to treasure.

"Happy Birthday!" I kissed her lightly and Lady D. transferred herself to her all-time favorite female person ever. It was amazing the way the little monkey had taken to Rene after all of her standoffishness and hostility to any other women, including my cousin. Of course Phoebe was terrified of her so that didn't help. Animals, especially mischievous and intelligent ones like a capuchin, sense that kind of fear and exploit it. Phebes was an easy mark for a clever monkey.

"Thanks. And good morning to you, Lady D. How 'bout a big monkey smile?" Rene bared her teeth in an exaggerated grin and Lady D. gave it right back. Rene giggled. "I don't think that would ever not get a laugh out of me. She's the cutest little thing ever."

I came up behind her and cupped her luscious bottom in one hand. "No, I think she might be the
second
cutest little thing."

"Good morning all." I hadn't heard Stephen come through the door. I pulled my hand away from Rene's behind. There was no reason to be embarrassed but the look on Stephen's face made me feel like I'd just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Not that I needed his approval. What was between Rene and me was none of his business.

"Mornin', Stephen. Seems like I haven't seen you in days." Rene poured two cups of coffee and handed one to each of us. "Breakfast okay downstairs?"

"Perfect as usual, Rene. You're spoiling us." He sipped his coffee and looked at me. "I've been keeping pretty busy. Crossings don't leave me a lot of time for socializing."

"Dylan, what can I get you this morning?"

"Whatever the crew ate is fine, sweetie." That ‘Sweetie’ earned another raised eyebrow from my captain.

"Scoot then, and I'll rustle it on up. Take her with you, please. She’s a terrible beggar and she knows I’ve got cookies."

I patted my shoulder and surprisingly Lady D. obeyed me. It had become more difficult every day to persuade her to leave Rene's side.

"It's Rene's birthday today," I told Stephen. I chose to ignore his not so subtle looks in the kitchen and carry on as if nothing had changed.

"What are you up to, Dylan?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what are you up to with Rene?"

"We're getting to know one another. I like her."

"Dylan you haven't
liked
a girl since you were eleven years old. And then it was your sister."

"Well I like one now. What of it?"

"I thought we agreed on some bullshit no-fraternization rule."

"That was only to keep you from hound-dogging her."

"And just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Who died and left you in charge of my life?"

"Somebody should be."

"What's it to you, Stephen? Have you got something going on with Rene that I should know about?"

"Naw, man. I just think she's a sweet girl. I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"Let me clue you in, Captain. I've learned a bit about our sweet girl. There's a steel core in her. She has a mind of her own."

"She's very smart, too."

"What makes you think I don't appreciate that? And what makes you think I'd hurt her? Since when was your opinion of me so low?"

"Oh give it up, Dylan. We both know exactly what I'm talking about. I've known you since you were a kid. The deepest relationship you have in this world is with me. And dude, it ain't all that."

"There has to be a first time, doesn't there?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you're in love with Rene?"

"Hardly. Love is a long way off for me, bro." I didn't need to share the fact that the very thought of 'love' translated into the kind of pain that scared the daylights out of me. "But like I said, there's something different. I think I'd be foolish not to pursue it. Who knows?"

Rene came out with my breakfast and set it down on the table. "Aren't you going to sit with me?" I asked her.

"Not just yet Dylan. I want to hustle in the kitchen so I can enjoy my birthday afternoon to the fullest." She gave me a look that told me all I needed to know. She wanted more of me. She wanted all of me. And that was exactly what I was going to give her.

Now that I’d had a sample of what that responsive little body could do, I watched her sexy sway as she went back into the kitchen with an even more appreciative eye. She was pure candy.

"Hey Captain, if you'll lose the lecture mode, I'll co-pilot for a while."

"Sure, Boss. I've said all I have to say." Stephen didn't look too terribly pleased. But he was smart enough not to take it any further. We were friends, but there was still a working relationship. It helped keep him humble.

"How 'bout it, Lady D.? Cockpit time?" The monkey bobbed up and down on my shoulder in agreement.

The Atlantic had favored us with great conditions. We were making excellent time and that meant we'd reach the Azores sooner than we thought. Anxious as I was to have a pow-wow with the old man, I really needed a couple of days fishing before I faced land again. I figured we'd start trolling just for the hell of it. We'd have to slow her down to about ten knots, but I was willing to sacrifice a little bit of distance a couple hours a day.

Stephen and I came up with a game plan that started the next day with two or three lines running in the early morning. We'd bring the lines in around nine if we didn't catch anything and kick the engines up after that.

By the time we reached Ponta Delgada we'd have sea trialed all the gear and be ready to use the tender for some serious action. I was anxious to show Rene what big game fishing was all about. It was something important to me that I'd never even attempted to share with a woman. It was odd. I wanted her to know me.
Really
know me.

Eventually she'd have to know about the darker side, too. I wondered when I'd be ready to tell her about it. There was a name for my mother's madness.
Facetious disorder by proxy.
What a mouthful. The official term was only slightly better than the old school one—Munchausen’s by proxy. I often wished the AMA would just call it 'making-a-kid-think-he's-sicker-than-sick crazy'. Not that that was any easier, it just said it better. Or maybe child abuse by thermometer.

After Dawn was gone and my father finally came around to accepting the fact that his wife was mad as a hatter, I did get some help. A little kid thinks he's sick when the people around him tell him he's sick. Any moments of doubt I had were quickly squashed by my mother's inventive imagination. If I wasn't actively battling one of my many 'illnesses' then I was avoiding the next one. It took most of my adolescence for the shrinks to help me understand that
I
wasn't actually the sick one.

When it finally sunk in, I hit the world at a full run and never stopped. I stayed inside as little as I could get away with. I took risks and if something brought me down—the flu, a sprain, a blistered back—I toughed it out until it went away. Pills never made it past my throat. Not an aspirin, a vitamin or a tab of X. Even the thought of recreational drugs gave me cold chills. I always figured I avoided some trouble that way as a bonus.

She never hit me. She never even scolded me. To anyone observing our family, my mom was an angel of patience with two unfortunately puny and sickly children. She thrived on the sympathy of doctors, the kindness of nurses and the guilty gratitude my father gave her for taking the burden of my sister and me all on herself.

No one ever saw those deep blue eyes frost over when Dawn and I would laugh too loud for a couple of sick kids. No one else felt the vice-grip of her hand when one of us tried to tell a doctor that it really didn't hurt/itch/burn as bad as our mother said it did.

I'm sure she poisoned us frequently. No kid has that many stomach aches. She was good at it, too. She knew how to deliver just enough to make us puke or double up in pain but never enough to raise a red flag in the emergency room.
"Just another case of stomach flu, Mrs. Cruz. Your children are so vulnerable." "Maybe you should see an allergist, Mrs. Cruz. This could be a food reaction." "Some children react to stress this way. Perhaps a quieter environment will help."

I shook myself out of my terror world. There would be time for true confessions later. Much later. I knew if I really wanted to know someone I had to let that someone know me. But at that moment I wanted to share another kind of knowledge. I wanted to build on what I'd learned about the glory of her willing body.

Her birthday. It was an appropriate day to show her the magic of what I knew our bodies could do together.