He sucks in some air and when he exhales I close my eyes and picture that day again. “Well,” he says softly. “That day on the beach when we both became Six I thought you looked like a sea nymph who would sing a song and I’d lose my mind from the beauty of your voice.”
“You are such a liar,” I snort. He pokes my armpit, testing to see if I’m ticklish. I am, so I squirm, and then his hand slips to my breast and finds the hard pebble of my nipple. He pinches it and I moan a little.
“You want to know what I thought about when I saw you in Huntington that first time?”
My hand slides up my stomach and I place it over the top of his and then grip him a little harder and rub my breast using his hand.
“You’re turning me on, Lionfish. You know that, right?”
“Tell me what you thought, James. I want to know.” My eyes close again. He slides his hand underneath my shirt and squeezes the nipple again with no fabric to dampen the pleasure.
“It was my first day in HB. I had an apartment on PCH. I had some ripped Levi’s. Some vans. Some expensive sunglasses. Just fitting in like I do wherever I’m sent. And I had just finished taking a walk down the pier to check it out. It was just about sunset, and it was cold that day. Rainy and cloudy. So no one was paying any attention to the sunset.”
“Except me,” I say softly.
“Except you. I spotted your hair first. Then there was this break in the clouds and the sun hit your face in a way that turned your brown eyes to this incredible gold, and your hair was like a beacon on that gloomy day. Your beauty called to me, the same way it did back when we turned Six. And I knew the very second I saw you. You were my only reason to live.”
I tip my head up so I can see him and he’s got a sad frown on his face. “Because you had to shoot your brother?”
He looks away and he takes a deep breath that lifts my whole body up with the effort.
“There’s no one left for me to love but you, Harper. My brother is dead, my sister is probably dead. They took her that first year I was working because my mother was ‘getting ideas’ about my little sister’s promise. It was hard to get upset about my lot in life before that. I mean, that was just how it was, ya know? It never occurred to me that I was allowed to be outraged at the thought of my baby sister being promised to a man. So she disappeared. A few years later one of my contracts was shooting his mouth off before I pulled the trigger and he claimed he killed her. I took him at his word, because you know what? The idea that my sister was kidnapped as a toddler and given away as a child bride is just more than I can deal with.”
“God, I’m so sorry. They never told me about the marriage stuff either. Not outright anyway. Not until I turned sixteen. And then that’s all they talked about.”
“But your brother made sure that day never happened. Well.” James stops to correct himself. “No, that’s not true. You took care of it yourself, really. But either way, the gloomy sunset day was like… an ending to the bad things. That’s what I told myself. And then the day I finally decided to ask you your name, I wanted it to be dawn instead of dusk. I didn’t want it to be an ending, I wanted it to be a beginning.”
I picture him in his sorrow on the beach. “I was sad too. Missing my brother so bad my chest hurt all the time, and I used to hold that bottle of pills so tightly in my hand, I’d have sore arms the next day.”
“But you never took them. I used to count them every night.”
What? I’m back from the moment and I need more answers about this surveillance he was doing. “Who sent you to the beach?”
“Your father.”
“So he was watching me.”
“Probably.”
“You were watching me for him?”
“I guess. It was not a job. I was on leave. And I never reported to him. Not one thing I did on that beach was reported.”
I’m silent for a long time. Long stretches of minutes go by and the only thing that registers is the feeling of James playing with my ni**les. Every now and then he squeezes a bit and the now-familiar wet feeling between my legs makes me squirm.
“Do you want me to keep going?” he finally asks.
“Will I want to hear the rest?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“Do you want me to know the rest?”
“Yes, I do. I have wanted to say these things to you since the day under the pier.”
I tip my chin up so I can see him better and nod. “OK.”
“I followed you home after the sunset. I broke into your apartment that night. And every single night thereafter. I watched you—” And as soon as he says this part, his hand slides into my shorts and slips down to play with my pu**y.
“Did you touch me?” I ask, my breath becoming faster as his fingers begin to explore my folds. “Or did you just watch?”
“I touched you.”
“Where?” I slip my hand inside my shorts and begin to caress my clit in slow circles. “Here?”
“No,” James says softly. And then he pulls his hand out of my pants and brings it to my lips. “Here.” His fingertip traces the curve of my lip again, like he was doing earlier. But this time it’s slick with my own juices.
“Did I suck you?”
“I wish,” he laughs. “No. I was afraid to wake you, so it was a very small touch.”
“Did I ever moan?”
“Yes. It drove me crazy.”
“Did you want to f**k me?”
He slides his hand back into my shorts and leans down to whisper in my ear. “I dreamed about f**king you. Every night.”
“Did you masturbate as I slept?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“Show me,” I whisper back.
He draws in a sharp breath, staring down at me. “Sit up on your knees,” he commands.
I get up, my heart beating faster at the prospect of watching him.
“Take off your shirt.”
I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it up over my head as he unfastens his pants. His dick is so hard it springs forth once the confining fabric releases it.
“Take off your shorts.”
I stand up, unbutton them, and let them slide down my legs.
He takes his shirt off and then stands up next to me and lets his pants drop before sitting back down. “Kneel and put your head here,” he says, patting the top of his thigh. I never stop looking him in the eyes as I kneel and lay my head on his leg and my hands automatically begin to stroke his muscled calf. His c**k is only a few inches away and I want to put it in my mouth so bad I tremble.
“You are such a liar,” I snort. He pokes my armpit, testing to see if I’m ticklish. I am, so I squirm, and then his hand slips to my breast and finds the hard pebble of my nipple. He pinches it and I moan a little.
“You want to know what I thought about when I saw you in Huntington that first time?”
My hand slides up my stomach and I place it over the top of his and then grip him a little harder and rub my breast using his hand.
“You’re turning me on, Lionfish. You know that, right?”
“Tell me what you thought, James. I want to know.” My eyes close again. He slides his hand underneath my shirt and squeezes the nipple again with no fabric to dampen the pleasure.
“It was my first day in HB. I had an apartment on PCH. I had some ripped Levi’s. Some vans. Some expensive sunglasses. Just fitting in like I do wherever I’m sent. And I had just finished taking a walk down the pier to check it out. It was just about sunset, and it was cold that day. Rainy and cloudy. So no one was paying any attention to the sunset.”
“Except me,” I say softly.
“Except you. I spotted your hair first. Then there was this break in the clouds and the sun hit your face in a way that turned your brown eyes to this incredible gold, and your hair was like a beacon on that gloomy day. Your beauty called to me, the same way it did back when we turned Six. And I knew the very second I saw you. You were my only reason to live.”
I tip my head up so I can see him and he’s got a sad frown on his face. “Because you had to shoot your brother?”
He looks away and he takes a deep breath that lifts my whole body up with the effort.
“There’s no one left for me to love but you, Harper. My brother is dead, my sister is probably dead. They took her that first year I was working because my mother was ‘getting ideas’ about my little sister’s promise. It was hard to get upset about my lot in life before that. I mean, that was just how it was, ya know? It never occurred to me that I was allowed to be outraged at the thought of my baby sister being promised to a man. So she disappeared. A few years later one of my contracts was shooting his mouth off before I pulled the trigger and he claimed he killed her. I took him at his word, because you know what? The idea that my sister was kidnapped as a toddler and given away as a child bride is just more than I can deal with.”
“God, I’m so sorry. They never told me about the marriage stuff either. Not outright anyway. Not until I turned sixteen. And then that’s all they talked about.”
“But your brother made sure that day never happened. Well.” James stops to correct himself. “No, that’s not true. You took care of it yourself, really. But either way, the gloomy sunset day was like… an ending to the bad things. That’s what I told myself. And then the day I finally decided to ask you your name, I wanted it to be dawn instead of dusk. I didn’t want it to be an ending, I wanted it to be a beginning.”
I picture him in his sorrow on the beach. “I was sad too. Missing my brother so bad my chest hurt all the time, and I used to hold that bottle of pills so tightly in my hand, I’d have sore arms the next day.”
“But you never took them. I used to count them every night.”
What? I’m back from the moment and I need more answers about this surveillance he was doing. “Who sent you to the beach?”
“Your father.”
“So he was watching me.”
“Probably.”
“You were watching me for him?”
“I guess. It was not a job. I was on leave. And I never reported to him. Not one thing I did on that beach was reported.”
I’m silent for a long time. Long stretches of minutes go by and the only thing that registers is the feeling of James playing with my ni**les. Every now and then he squeezes a bit and the now-familiar wet feeling between my legs makes me squirm.
“Do you want me to keep going?” he finally asks.
“Will I want to hear the rest?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“Do you want me to know the rest?”
“Yes, I do. I have wanted to say these things to you since the day under the pier.”
I tip my chin up so I can see him better and nod. “OK.”
“I followed you home after the sunset. I broke into your apartment that night. And every single night thereafter. I watched you—” And as soon as he says this part, his hand slides into my shorts and slips down to play with my pu**y.
“Did you touch me?” I ask, my breath becoming faster as his fingers begin to explore my folds. “Or did you just watch?”
“I touched you.”
“Where?” I slip my hand inside my shorts and begin to caress my clit in slow circles. “Here?”
“No,” James says softly. And then he pulls his hand out of my pants and brings it to my lips. “Here.” His fingertip traces the curve of my lip again, like he was doing earlier. But this time it’s slick with my own juices.
“Did I suck you?”
“I wish,” he laughs. “No. I was afraid to wake you, so it was a very small touch.”
“Did I ever moan?”
“Yes. It drove me crazy.”
“Did you want to f**k me?”
He slides his hand back into my shorts and leans down to whisper in my ear. “I dreamed about f**king you. Every night.”
“Did you masturbate as I slept?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“Show me,” I whisper back.
He draws in a sharp breath, staring down at me. “Sit up on your knees,” he commands.
I get up, my heart beating faster at the prospect of watching him.
“Take off your shirt.”
I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it up over my head as he unfastens his pants. His dick is so hard it springs forth once the confining fabric releases it.
“Take off your shorts.”
I stand up, unbutton them, and let them slide down my legs.
He takes his shirt off and then stands up next to me and lets his pants drop before sitting back down. “Kneel and put your head here,” he says, patting the top of his thigh. I never stop looking him in the eyes as I kneel and lay my head on his leg and my hands automatically begin to stroke his muscled calf. His c**k is only a few inches away and I want to put it in my mouth so bad I tremble.
