Ask me, I wordlessly beg.
The deepening curve of his eyebrows tells me he already came to his own conclusion, though.
I shake my head and, no longer able to keep quiet, squeak out, “I-it broke.”
“Yeah…” He sighs. “I never expected it to last as long as it did.”
I-is he speaking in analogy still? Or literally?
The thought of the former has acid creeping up through my insides into my throat.
“Trenton…”
Goddammit.
I have no idea what to say or do or think.
How to behave.
What move to make.
Nothing.
His eyes move back to our cupped hands, and he dips them below the surface. His thumb begins rubbing along my palm, over each digit, to the back of my hand, then between each finger. Each circular stroke becomes more and more aggressive. After a time, he lifts my hand again and reassesses. No more blood. He then lets go and takes my other hand in both of his, dips it into the water between us and begins cleaning that one, too. This hand has more blood on it as it’s the hand with which I dug out the bullet and the fingers the sand spurs pricked.
Watching the red bleed and swirl into the dark water between us, I find it difficult to ignore the bobbing of his cock against the surface, partially erect as though even his primal instinct can’t decide if the animal in front of him is something he should avoid or dominate.
The unknowing in this moment is maddening. I still ache to do and say a number of things but am frozen with uncertainty that anything I do or say will only make matters worse.
Unable to cope, I close my eyes and give myself over. Submit. I stop worrying. Kinda like when Porter tosses me on the bed and I shut down. My breaths go from slightly increased to shallow and long. I focus on the lap of the water as it rhythmically ripples against my stomach. I will the goosebumps on my skin to subside, using the imagery of each one retreating to redirect my whirlpool of thoughts.
When Trenton finally speaks, his voice is a mere whisper: “Goddammit, Remi.”
All the thoughts and worries I tried to overcome rush back over me like an unexpected, billowing wave. On the cusp of drowning, my breath catches.
A mix of cool and warm meets my face. The tickle of saltwater dribbles down the column of my neck while the pressure of his thumb and fingers depress on and around my chin to tilt my head back. His hot body comes next. That semi-erect cock from a moment ago has hardened more and now nudges against my lower belly. My throat trembles around a swallow, and my closed eyes leak a couple rogue tears.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were never supposed to be more than a quick lay.” His voice steadily turns into a soft growl. “I want you, dammit. Quick, slow, sometimes, all the time, hard, gentle, daytime, nighttime.”
Weak of mind and heart, I keep my eyes closed, unable to engage. I become a sieve — his to pour in whatever he wishes, but only willing to collect the good bits, allowing the rest to sift through and disappear into a sea of loneliness.
After the first shake, though, the sieve empties, and nothing good remains: “But my loyalties aren’t with you — they never were.”
Despite understanding, the words still sting. No… not sting… stab. Ache. Debilitate. For the first time since he led me into the water, I give him something: a single, tight nod.
I hear and respect you.
I understand.
Do what you must.
Finish breaking my heart, but do it quickly.
Should I stand here much longer, I just might float away and never return.
And he does exactly that… with the press of his lips against mine.
One of finality.
Of completion.
His tongue slips between my lips and locks itself into my memories in an instant.
Him letting me go and wading away would have been so much easier.
CHAPTER NINE
Trenton sidesteps a few times, maneuvering us slightly closer to the shore — just enough to where his cock is no longer drowned in the salty current.
With a quick dip he bends, pushes my g-string over, slips between my thighs, and slides inside me. Then he wades us deeper and deeper until the salty water sways around my shoulders and splays my hair. “Open your eyes,” he whispers.
I shake my head faster than I can process the demand; I can’t look at him. Not like this. “Do it, Remi.” He lifts and descends me on his cock.
“Please…”
Not no.
Not why.
But please.
A plea for leniency.
He keeps one hand tucked under my butt for support, letting the buoyancy of the water help suspend me. With the other hand, he drags a wet thumb across my eyebrow. “One more time. That’s all I can give — all I can handle. Don’t break my heart even more by shutting me out.”
Water trickles down my temple until it meets with one of the very tears I had tried to barricade behind my closed eyes. My eyelashes, clinging with the salty mix, flutter open. Dark-brown locks with light-brown. With that comes another thrust — and another crank of the vice tightening around my heart. Our foreheads meet with the next thrust. On the one after, I roll my hips, engaging in the partnership — turning it from one to two.
Trenton groans. One hand squeezes my ass, the other peels the hair clinging to my shoulders away so he can access the back of my neck with his chilled fingers.
The word “why” plays on the tips of our tongues. I can taste his need to inquire about my betrayal. My secrets. And I counter it with a wordless why of my own:
Why won’t you forgive me?
Take me… yes…
But keep me.
As-is.
Secrets and all.
But the answers dance in our kiss, too; this is how it has to be. He has shit to work through. I have even more shit to work through. Our interests, other than the one in which we’re presently involved, don’t align. He needs space. And I do, too.
But for tonight, we need this.
This temporary life raft.
A taste of forgetfulness.
Right now, we both need a one-night stand to take our minds off the things plaguing our real life grind. We need the temporary promise of happiness and pleasure, just like we did the night we met.
A small wave rises and falls over my shoulders. With the current, all our what ifs and what nexts drift away. As though he came to the same conclusion, his lips drop to my mouth and tongue slithers around mine like a lick of water creeping onto the shore.
My black camisole sticks to my body, adhered by the salty epoxy. The shirt that was, only moments ago, offering me protection, now feels too restrictive. I break our kiss and slip my hands between us to peel off my cami. Trenton helps by keeping us from sliding apart. Uncaring about the fate of said top, I simply toss it into the deep.
When my focus returns to him, his eyes are absorbing what extra skin is now revealed. He adjusts again, taking us a bit shallower, just enough to expose my breasts to the night instead of keeping them hidden beneath the surface of the water. Taking each of my hands, he drapes them over his shoulders before slipping a hand between my breasts and up to my neck, encouraging my head back into the black water and my torso to bend into an incline. Positioned just so, his mouth drops to my breasts, teeth immediately clamping onto the puckered flesh.
My fingernails dig into the muscles where his neck and shoulders meet. His fingertips press against the soft flesh of my neck, and his tongue flicks at my saltwater-dampened nipples. My eyes flutter closed, and a vibrating moan cycles through me as I raise my hips to accept him more, chasing the friction. His mouth leaves my breast as he wraps his hand around to the back of my neck, and he lifts me forward to bring our foreheads together and plunge at a new angle, submersing himself completely.