Chris gasps and I glance up at her shocked yet hopeful expression. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep because you were stuck between a mattress and a hard man.”
Shaking my head, I turn back toward my bedroom. “Not everyone wants their bones jumped on the first date, Chris.”
“Yes, they do. They just won’t admit it,” she says from behind me. “Besides, I’ve never seen two people more ready for the bedroom than you and Alec.”
I’m glad she can’t see my frown. I sit down on the bed, gathering supplies to my side. I glance at all the assorted tools and accoutrements. Sadly, my mani/pedi will just have to be a fresh coat of paint. I won’t have time for anything else now.
I pick up a bottle of red polish and shake it vigorously.
“Well?” Chris says.
“Well what?”
“No comment?”
I shrug. “We might both want the same thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for me.”
I draw my knee up to my chest.
“Here, give me that,” Chris says, taking the bottle from me. “You do your nails. I’ll do your toes.” She pulls my foot into her lap and unscrews the cap on the polish. After she paints a few streaks of ruby lacquer on my big toenail, she blows gently on it before speaking. “I’m not gonna pry. I figure you’ll talk to me about whatever happened when you’re ready. But, Sam, you need this. You need to get back out there. And this guy is into you. What’s the problem?”
“Getting back out there is different than jumping into a sexual relationship, Chris.” I try to remain casual as I paint clear polish on my fingernails in slow, even strokes.
“Let me tell you something, Sammy,” she says, pausing in her painting to look up at me. “I’ve never seen two people with more chemistry. It’s not a matter of if you’ll have sex, but when you’ll have sex. I know it’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike. Trust me, it’s not something you forget how to do.”
“I’m not afraid I’ve forgotten. I think that’s more the problem. That I can’t forget.”
Chris says nothing for a minute as she concentrates on getting a smear of red off my skin.
“Whatever it is that you refuse to talk about won’t be fixed by avoiding it. Even if you never tell me about it, tell someone. That’s why I wanted you to see that sex therapist. Even women who were raped—”
“I wasn’t raped, Chris,” I interrupt. I don’t want her mind going in that direction, although I think it’s very curious that it did.
“Well, whatever happened, you can’t let it ruin your life.”
“It’s not ruining my life. I—”
“Sam, when you’re afraid to date because you’re afraid of sex, it’s ruining your life. I don’t want you to be alone.”
I look up and meet her eyes in a moment of bald honesty. “I don’t want to be alone either.”
“Then fix it. Take the leap.”
“I don’t know how to fix it.”
“That’s what therapy’s for. And, hopefully, that’s what Alec is for.”
“I think we need to talk about something else, like how happy I am that your life’s ambition wasn’t to work in a nail salon. Did you get any polish on my actual toenail?”
“Oh, stop. They don’t look that bad,” she assures, tilting her head to one side as she considers her work.
“Well, they’ll have to do. I don’t have time to repaint them,” I say with finality, hoping she’ll take the hint and drop this conversation.
“Sam, promise me something.” Chris lays her hand on my knee, her expression serious. “Please don’t let yourself get in the way of happiness. Lots of people have less-than-ideal childhoods and—”
“Less than ideal? That makes it sound like my parents got divorced or I had to get a job at sixteen.”
“Okay, horrible. But still, you’re not the only one who has a lot to overcome.”
Chris is right. In fact, she’s one of those people. She has her own story from the school of hard knocks. Her issues are just a little more…typical than mine.
“Here, blow,” I say, sticking my foot in her face as I try to lighten the mood and change the subject.
“That’s what he said,” she says deadpan, easing the tension and causing us both to laugh.
“All right,” I say, scooting off the bed. “Now stop harassing me and get out of here. I need to figure out a way to get dressed without ruining my nails.”
“What kind of a sister would I be if I stopped harassing you?”
“Somebody else’s, I guess.”
“You know it,” she replies sassily, strutting to the door and swinging it closed behind her.
CHAPTER TWELVE - Alec
I stretch back in my black, padded-leather chair and look out the window. The view is one of the biggest benefits to working from home. The sky is blue, the sun is bright and that sand is calling.
I think a little horseback riding on the beach is in order.
After a vigorous workout and plowing through most of my morning task list, I’m feeling pretty good about myself. I know those accomplishments aren’t responsible, though. I’m feeling proud and in control because not only did I not seduce Samantha Jansen last night, which would’ve been all too easy, but during my sleepless night, I made up my mind to stay away from her. For both our sakes. And today, I’m feeling much better about my progress and the level of common decency to which I’m capable of rising.
There was a time when I wouldn’t have been able to say no, when I wouldn’t have been able to exercise self-control. Well, that I just wouldn’t have, not that I necessarily couldn’t. It’s only been in recent years that I’ve really wanted to get out of such a destructive cycle. It’s hard to want to stop something that feels so good and that satisfies you on so many different levels.
It’s not really that the activities themselves are bad. It’s more the end result. Once I’ve had my fill of a woman, I lose interest. Completely. I seduce, I dominate, I control and I abandon. It’s why I try to be honest about it up front, about what I want and what she should expect. About what I’m capable of, emotionally.
But that doesn’t seem to matter. They go forward thinking that it’ll be fun, which it is, but then they’re devastated when it’s over. While that’s not my fault (they were warned, after all), I’m tired of being that guy. It’s not healthy for them and I’ve recently begun to see that it’s not really healthy for me either. I need to live beyond my vices.
My problem at this point is two-fold. Number one, where am I going to find a woman to hold my interest, especially away from my…predilections? And number two, what kind of woman is going to love someone as broken and twisted as I am, even if I did look for something more?
At times like this, I find it harder not to give in to my old ways, times when the future seems bleak without them.
But I won’t. I’m stronger than any addiction.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Samantha
“How many times are we gonna walk this strip looking for them?” I ask Chris. “We’re obviously not going to see any today.”
Chris doesn’t look at me. She keeps her eyes trained on the sand. “Patience, grasshopper,” she whispers.
I roll my eyes and follow along at her side, although I’m no longer even looking at the sand. My eyes are staring off into the distance, taking in the bright glint of the sun on the waves as they roll in.
The rhythmic thud of a galloping horse brings my attention back to shore. When I look ahead, I see the dazzling sight of a man on horseback. It’s almost surreal, like a mirage.
His h*ps move in a fluid way that suggests he’s accustomed to sitting a horse. His dark hair is blowing slightly in the wind, his white shirt is open to billow out behind him, and his wide chest is covered in nothing but smooth, tan skin.
As he draws closer, I can see that his eyes are obscured as he squints into the sun. But I don’t need to see them to recognize the rider. I felt the tug of the string the instant I looked up. It’s Alec. And he’s coming straight for us.
“Holy effin’ shit,” Chris breathes beside me, articulating the feeling that’s rattling around inside me. “This is like one of those Old Spice commercials.”
Chris walks a few steps ahead of me. That’s when I realize that I’ve stopped moving completely. I’m standing in the surf, staring at Alec like he’s the key to my survival.
And, at the moment, it feels very much like he is.
He comes to a stop in front of me. His eyes never leave mine, even as his horse fidgets to get back to a run. Alec is frowning and he looks anything but pleased to see me. I say nothing and neither does he.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Chris says when the silence and the tension become too much.
“Yes,” Alec says, but speaks no further.
Still he watches me. And still, I don’t move.
Chris, never one who has been comfortable with silence, chimes in again. “We’re, uh, we’re here looking for sea turtles.”
“Hmmm,” Alec murmurs, his gaze searing me all the way to my soul.
Too many things are drifting through my head, warring with the vision of Alec on a horse.
I feel breathless when he looks at me this way.
A guy like this is dangerous to my heart.
Will I regret it if I don’t let this happen?
Will I regret it if I do?
But he didn’t call.
Maybe he changed his mind.
Maybe he lost interest.
Why does that make me feel so hopeless?
I should be glad. My problem is solved.
Out of nowhere, resolve bubbles up, resolve to do the smart thing and stay away from him. I clear my throat and smile politely.
“Well, it was good seeing you, Alec.” I turn to Chris. “Let’s look once more back the other way.”
Chris’s mouth drops open and she gives me a stare that says I’ve completely lost my mind. I wind my fingers around her upper arm and turn her with me as I start off in the other direction. At first she resists, but I give her arm a meaningful squeeze and she bends to my will.
I look back over my shoulder at Alec, still sitting atop his magnificent horse. He’s watching me. Intently. Like he always does.
“See ya,” I say before turning to walk away.
My heart is thumping wildly inside my chest as a spot right between my shoulder blades starts to burn. I can almost feel his eyes on me as I leave.
I’m thinking of Alec rather than watching where I’m going. I don’t even see the depression in the sand until it’s too late.
I step into it and lose my balance, tipping toward the water. I reach out to catch myself, but my foot has already been gobbled up by the wet sand which keeps it stationary even as my body turns. I feel the muscles along the outside of my left calf wrench and I yelp in pain as I contort my body to avoid further damage.
“Ohmigod, are you okay?” Chris asks, bending to my side.
I feel my face burn with embarrassment and I refuse to look back at Alec, who I know is still watching me. I can feel it.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just help me up.”
Chris takes my hands and pulls, bringing me to my feet. I straighten and wiggle my foot to free it from the sand. Pain shoots up into my knee. I gasp.
“You’re not okay. You twisted your ankle, didn’t you?”
I bite my lip and try gingerly to bear weight on my left foot. It’s far too painful to walk on.
“It looks like it.”
“You can’t make it back to the car like this.”
“Sure I can. It’ll just take a little longer and you’ll have to help me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec’s deep voice says.
I whirl to find him looming behind me, a scowl on his face.
“I’m not being ridiculous,” I snap. “I’ll be fine.”
“This is not something that can be ignored,” he replies.
“I’m not ignoring it. I just have to take it slow.”
“Sometimes even taking it slow won’t help.”
Something in his eyes tells me he’s talking about much more than the situation with my ankle. It’s as though he’s speaking to all that I’ve been struggling with. But that’s impossible for him to know, right? Unless he’s struggling, too.
That doesn’t make any sense, I reason with myself. Why would he need to stay away from me?
“I think he’s right, Sam,” Chris offers. I want to turn and glare at her, but I can’t. I can’t seem to look away from Alec and the unspoken things I see in his eyes.
“My house isn’t far. Let me take you there and get some ice on that.”
“Thanks, but I’ll—”
“That’s a good idea,” Chris says. “Sam, he can take you on his horse so you don’t have to walk. I can drive around to get you.”
“No need. I can bring her home later,” Alec mutters. He sounds bothered by the situation, which gives me a perverse sense of pleasure. I hope he is aggravated. Serves him right for putting me in this position. He should’ve just let me go.
I ignore the part of me that’s happy he didn’t, the part of me that’s begging to spend a few more minutes with him. Close to the flame.
“Don’t I get a vote? I told you—” I begin halfheartedly, but Alec cuts me off.
“Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t be taking no for an answer?” he asks gruffly.
Shaking my head, I turn back toward my bedroom. “Not everyone wants their bones jumped on the first date, Chris.”
“Yes, they do. They just won’t admit it,” she says from behind me. “Besides, I’ve never seen two people more ready for the bedroom than you and Alec.”
I’m glad she can’t see my frown. I sit down on the bed, gathering supplies to my side. I glance at all the assorted tools and accoutrements. Sadly, my mani/pedi will just have to be a fresh coat of paint. I won’t have time for anything else now.
I pick up a bottle of red polish and shake it vigorously.
“Well?” Chris says.
“Well what?”
“No comment?”
I shrug. “We might both want the same thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for me.”
I draw my knee up to my chest.
“Here, give me that,” Chris says, taking the bottle from me. “You do your nails. I’ll do your toes.” She pulls my foot into her lap and unscrews the cap on the polish. After she paints a few streaks of ruby lacquer on my big toenail, she blows gently on it before speaking. “I’m not gonna pry. I figure you’ll talk to me about whatever happened when you’re ready. But, Sam, you need this. You need to get back out there. And this guy is into you. What’s the problem?”
“Getting back out there is different than jumping into a sexual relationship, Chris.” I try to remain casual as I paint clear polish on my fingernails in slow, even strokes.
“Let me tell you something, Sammy,” she says, pausing in her painting to look up at me. “I’ve never seen two people with more chemistry. It’s not a matter of if you’ll have sex, but when you’ll have sex. I know it’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike. Trust me, it’s not something you forget how to do.”
“I’m not afraid I’ve forgotten. I think that’s more the problem. That I can’t forget.”
Chris says nothing for a minute as she concentrates on getting a smear of red off my skin.
“Whatever it is that you refuse to talk about won’t be fixed by avoiding it. Even if you never tell me about it, tell someone. That’s why I wanted you to see that sex therapist. Even women who were raped—”
“I wasn’t raped, Chris,” I interrupt. I don’t want her mind going in that direction, although I think it’s very curious that it did.
“Well, whatever happened, you can’t let it ruin your life.”
“It’s not ruining my life. I—”
“Sam, when you’re afraid to date because you’re afraid of sex, it’s ruining your life. I don’t want you to be alone.”
I look up and meet her eyes in a moment of bald honesty. “I don’t want to be alone either.”
“Then fix it. Take the leap.”
“I don’t know how to fix it.”
“That’s what therapy’s for. And, hopefully, that’s what Alec is for.”
“I think we need to talk about something else, like how happy I am that your life’s ambition wasn’t to work in a nail salon. Did you get any polish on my actual toenail?”
“Oh, stop. They don’t look that bad,” she assures, tilting her head to one side as she considers her work.
“Well, they’ll have to do. I don’t have time to repaint them,” I say with finality, hoping she’ll take the hint and drop this conversation.
“Sam, promise me something.” Chris lays her hand on my knee, her expression serious. “Please don’t let yourself get in the way of happiness. Lots of people have less-than-ideal childhoods and—”
“Less than ideal? That makes it sound like my parents got divorced or I had to get a job at sixteen.”
“Okay, horrible. But still, you’re not the only one who has a lot to overcome.”
Chris is right. In fact, she’s one of those people. She has her own story from the school of hard knocks. Her issues are just a little more…typical than mine.
“Here, blow,” I say, sticking my foot in her face as I try to lighten the mood and change the subject.
“That’s what he said,” she says deadpan, easing the tension and causing us both to laugh.
“All right,” I say, scooting off the bed. “Now stop harassing me and get out of here. I need to figure out a way to get dressed without ruining my nails.”
“What kind of a sister would I be if I stopped harassing you?”
“Somebody else’s, I guess.”
“You know it,” she replies sassily, strutting to the door and swinging it closed behind her.
CHAPTER TWELVE - Alec
I stretch back in my black, padded-leather chair and look out the window. The view is one of the biggest benefits to working from home. The sky is blue, the sun is bright and that sand is calling.
I think a little horseback riding on the beach is in order.
After a vigorous workout and plowing through most of my morning task list, I’m feeling pretty good about myself. I know those accomplishments aren’t responsible, though. I’m feeling proud and in control because not only did I not seduce Samantha Jansen last night, which would’ve been all too easy, but during my sleepless night, I made up my mind to stay away from her. For both our sakes. And today, I’m feeling much better about my progress and the level of common decency to which I’m capable of rising.
There was a time when I wouldn’t have been able to say no, when I wouldn’t have been able to exercise self-control. Well, that I just wouldn’t have, not that I necessarily couldn’t. It’s only been in recent years that I’ve really wanted to get out of such a destructive cycle. It’s hard to want to stop something that feels so good and that satisfies you on so many different levels.
It’s not really that the activities themselves are bad. It’s more the end result. Once I’ve had my fill of a woman, I lose interest. Completely. I seduce, I dominate, I control and I abandon. It’s why I try to be honest about it up front, about what I want and what she should expect. About what I’m capable of, emotionally.
But that doesn’t seem to matter. They go forward thinking that it’ll be fun, which it is, but then they’re devastated when it’s over. While that’s not my fault (they were warned, after all), I’m tired of being that guy. It’s not healthy for them and I’ve recently begun to see that it’s not really healthy for me either. I need to live beyond my vices.
My problem at this point is two-fold. Number one, where am I going to find a woman to hold my interest, especially away from my…predilections? And number two, what kind of woman is going to love someone as broken and twisted as I am, even if I did look for something more?
At times like this, I find it harder not to give in to my old ways, times when the future seems bleak without them.
But I won’t. I’m stronger than any addiction.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Samantha
“How many times are we gonna walk this strip looking for them?” I ask Chris. “We’re obviously not going to see any today.”
Chris doesn’t look at me. She keeps her eyes trained on the sand. “Patience, grasshopper,” she whispers.
I roll my eyes and follow along at her side, although I’m no longer even looking at the sand. My eyes are staring off into the distance, taking in the bright glint of the sun on the waves as they roll in.
The rhythmic thud of a galloping horse brings my attention back to shore. When I look ahead, I see the dazzling sight of a man on horseback. It’s almost surreal, like a mirage.
His h*ps move in a fluid way that suggests he’s accustomed to sitting a horse. His dark hair is blowing slightly in the wind, his white shirt is open to billow out behind him, and his wide chest is covered in nothing but smooth, tan skin.
As he draws closer, I can see that his eyes are obscured as he squints into the sun. But I don’t need to see them to recognize the rider. I felt the tug of the string the instant I looked up. It’s Alec. And he’s coming straight for us.
“Holy effin’ shit,” Chris breathes beside me, articulating the feeling that’s rattling around inside me. “This is like one of those Old Spice commercials.”
Chris walks a few steps ahead of me. That’s when I realize that I’ve stopped moving completely. I’m standing in the surf, staring at Alec like he’s the key to my survival.
And, at the moment, it feels very much like he is.
He comes to a stop in front of me. His eyes never leave mine, even as his horse fidgets to get back to a run. Alec is frowning and he looks anything but pleased to see me. I say nothing and neither does he.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Chris says when the silence and the tension become too much.
“Yes,” Alec says, but speaks no further.
Still he watches me. And still, I don’t move.
Chris, never one who has been comfortable with silence, chimes in again. “We’re, uh, we’re here looking for sea turtles.”
“Hmmm,” Alec murmurs, his gaze searing me all the way to my soul.
Too many things are drifting through my head, warring with the vision of Alec on a horse.
I feel breathless when he looks at me this way.
A guy like this is dangerous to my heart.
Will I regret it if I don’t let this happen?
Will I regret it if I do?
But he didn’t call.
Maybe he changed his mind.
Maybe he lost interest.
Why does that make me feel so hopeless?
I should be glad. My problem is solved.
Out of nowhere, resolve bubbles up, resolve to do the smart thing and stay away from him. I clear my throat and smile politely.
“Well, it was good seeing you, Alec.” I turn to Chris. “Let’s look once more back the other way.”
Chris’s mouth drops open and she gives me a stare that says I’ve completely lost my mind. I wind my fingers around her upper arm and turn her with me as I start off in the other direction. At first she resists, but I give her arm a meaningful squeeze and she bends to my will.
I look back over my shoulder at Alec, still sitting atop his magnificent horse. He’s watching me. Intently. Like he always does.
“See ya,” I say before turning to walk away.
My heart is thumping wildly inside my chest as a spot right between my shoulder blades starts to burn. I can almost feel his eyes on me as I leave.
I’m thinking of Alec rather than watching where I’m going. I don’t even see the depression in the sand until it’s too late.
I step into it and lose my balance, tipping toward the water. I reach out to catch myself, but my foot has already been gobbled up by the wet sand which keeps it stationary even as my body turns. I feel the muscles along the outside of my left calf wrench and I yelp in pain as I contort my body to avoid further damage.
“Ohmigod, are you okay?” Chris asks, bending to my side.
I feel my face burn with embarrassment and I refuse to look back at Alec, who I know is still watching me. I can feel it.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just help me up.”
Chris takes my hands and pulls, bringing me to my feet. I straighten and wiggle my foot to free it from the sand. Pain shoots up into my knee. I gasp.
“You’re not okay. You twisted your ankle, didn’t you?”
I bite my lip and try gingerly to bear weight on my left foot. It’s far too painful to walk on.
“It looks like it.”
“You can’t make it back to the car like this.”
“Sure I can. It’ll just take a little longer and you’ll have to help me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec’s deep voice says.
I whirl to find him looming behind me, a scowl on his face.
“I’m not being ridiculous,” I snap. “I’ll be fine.”
“This is not something that can be ignored,” he replies.
“I’m not ignoring it. I just have to take it slow.”
“Sometimes even taking it slow won’t help.”
Something in his eyes tells me he’s talking about much more than the situation with my ankle. It’s as though he’s speaking to all that I’ve been struggling with. But that’s impossible for him to know, right? Unless he’s struggling, too.
That doesn’t make any sense, I reason with myself. Why would he need to stay away from me?
“I think he’s right, Sam,” Chris offers. I want to turn and glare at her, but I can’t. I can’t seem to look away from Alec and the unspoken things I see in his eyes.
“My house isn’t far. Let me take you there and get some ice on that.”
“Thanks, but I’ll—”
“That’s a good idea,” Chris says. “Sam, he can take you on his horse so you don’t have to walk. I can drive around to get you.”
“No need. I can bring her home later,” Alec mutters. He sounds bothered by the situation, which gives me a perverse sense of pleasure. I hope he is aggravated. Serves him right for putting me in this position. He should’ve just let me go.
I ignore the part of me that’s happy he didn’t, the part of me that’s begging to spend a few more minutes with him. Close to the flame.
“Don’t I get a vote? I told you—” I begin halfheartedly, but Alec cuts me off.
“Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t be taking no for an answer?” he asks gruffly.
