Dare to Love (14 page)

She not hard to find. I see her sitting on one of the picnic tables near the volleyball game. She really into it and don’t see me coming.

‘You like volleyball?’ I whisper right up in her ear. She jump and swing her head back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

I slide on the table beside her, right up close till I’m touching her.

She wearing a little red vest top, a little skirt and a black pair of sandals. She have her legs stretch out in front of her. She watch the game and I watch her. She have her hair tie back so I can see more of her face. In daylight, without make-up, she look about three or four years older. She have nice skin, no marks, no pimples. I put her at about forty, maybe forty one. I check out her left hand. The ring’s still there. She wasn’t just wearing it for show last night then. I’m disappointed that she still watching the game and not taking much notice of me. I tell her I didn’t think she was going to phone, that I would have been very disappointed. She don’t answer. I stroke her arm. She smile at me and go back to watching the game.

At last the game finish. I ask her if she want a drink. Although she say no, I go and get it anyway. She say no now but might change her mind later.

Last night she don’t want to talk, now that’s all she want to do. I answer all her questions quick and try to be as honest as I can. Yes I have a girlfriend but she don’t need to know about the other complications. She don’t say anything about her husband and I don’t push. He’s not here with her, that’s all I need to know. He’s not going to show up and get between me and her and what might happen tonight.

The ice melting fast in the Hennessey. I offer her some, hold it to her lips. When she sip it I take it as a good sign. I lean forward and try to kiss her. Something in the way she’s holding herself stiff tell me to go easy, don’t rush her and spoil things. I just let my lips rest on hers. She don’t push me away. Her lips like Jeanette’s, soft and warm. Before I know it I have my tongue in her mouth, licking and sucking and flicking and filling up every space. Her mouth taste of Hennessey and coke, of sea and sunshine. She taking me to a place I haven’t been to in a long time, she softening, coming to me. Her skin soft under the tight muscles of her thighs. I feel the heat coming from the top of them. I’m wondering if those lips will be the same as the ones I’m kissing, hot and sweet, plump and succulent when she suddenly pull away.

‘What’s up?’ I whisper, even though there nobody close to hear me.

She don’t answer but start to massage my arm. The same kind of strokes she was using on the dance floor last night. She open my top and put her hand on my chest. I know she can feel my heat.

She start to kiss me again and I slide her hand down my chest to my crotch. It so tight down there, I open my legs wide to give her easy access. I pull her close. When she pull my zip down I’m anticipating her touch so much. I don’t know what I say or do but she suddenly pull right back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she say, looking at the ground.

I feel like grabbing her hand and pushing it down there to finish the job. If she know how stiff and painful it feel right now she wouldn’t be sitting there saying sorry.

‘Sorry for what? You enjoying it, aren’t you?’ I try to make my voice soft.

‘I shouldn’t be,’ she say.

I try and persuade her that there’s nothing wrong with what we doing. Certainly not from my point of view. She say she don’t know me. I tell her to ask me anything she want but she say she have to go. I can’t believe she going to leave me like this.

I offer to take her home. Maybe I can change her mind in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s open and she don’t want anybody to see us. Even though it dark some women funny about that kind of thing. She refuse that too. Say she going to walk. I don’t believe she just going to walk away from me again.

‘When can I see you again?’

She say she train on the beach at seven o’clock in the mornings. Seven o’clock. I never go to the beach that early, anyway, I drop Mel to work at that time.

‘How long you stay on the beach?’

‘Depends when I finish. Maybe an hour, maybe two.’

I promise to meet her at the beach in the morning. I watch her walk away and hope nothing happen to her, because I might be the last person to see her tonight before she get home.

When I get home, Mel and Darron want to know how the meeting went. I tell them she interested. She have a couple more plots of land to look at but I think she like what I show her I can do and the kind of prices I charge. They hoping it lead to something. I’m not hungry but I eat the dinner Mel microwave for me. After my Sunday dinner at the table I have a McDonalds later in the bedroom.

Josi

I train with Carlisle who congratulates me on my progress, on my improving
speed. He suggests I move up to running on the dry sand, increase the level of difficulty, but I tell him I’m not ready for that yet. I’m on holiday, not training for a marathon. He asks me how my weekend was; did I enjoy the volleyball? I tell him yes, but I didn’t see him there. He says he was only passing and I looked busy. I’m embarrassed, wondering how much he saw but there’s nothing on his face or in his voice to suggest he observed more than the earlier part of the game, where I simply sat with Grant on the table. I agree to train with him tomorrow and he’s gone quickly as he’s working an early shift.

By quarter to eight I’ve convinced myself I won’t see Grant again after last night’s debacle. Ten minutes later I’m thinking of leaving, when he shows up wearing black knee length swimming shorts and wrap around sunglasses. I can’t see his eyes but I can appreciate everything else. Broad shoulders, muscular arms. Not bulging, more like the ripples left by the sea on the sand at night, like it is first thing in the morning before the army of walkers transform it into a thousand mini dunes. His chest and firm hard belly taper down to that inverted V at his waist that I love in a man. Richard is more a straight sides man. The muscles in his legs undulate as his long strides bring him closer to me.

I wonder how I appear though his shades. If he’d been here at seven he’d have seen me fresh in my black leggings, red vest and black running shoes, my hair neatly tied back, face bright and glowing, full of expectation. What does he think now of my wet and sagging vest, hair falling about my face, sweat dripping from me. His lips are parted in a big grin, but what are his eyes saying?

He‘s got a small bag slung over his shoulder. I feel the cord as he wordlessly hugs. He’s dry and certain. He apologises for being late; problems with his alarm clock. I tell him I’ve finished, just about to do my stretches. He offers to stretch with me.

I’m feeling more confident in the light and the business of the beach. Joggers, walkers, martial arts students, all focused on improving their bodies. Despite this, I’m acutely aware of his gaze as I bend, stretch, make figures of eight with my hips, circles with my shoulders. His press-ups are impressive. As I watch him pumping up and down, I know I’m not the first woman he’s performed for.

‘What now?’ he asks, brushing sand from his hands when we’ve finished. ‘Going in?’ he tilts his head toward the sea.

‘Didn’t bring my suit.’ I look apologetic, not adding that I deliberately left it behind in case he wanted to go into the sea with me.

‘Go in as you are,’ he looks me up and down. ‘After all, you wet already.’

‘I’d have to walk back squelching.’ I wish I could see his eyes, see if he’s finding me as amusing as his voice suggests.

‘Don’t have to. I’ll take you home.’ Then he laughs out loud, throwing his head back in the process. ‘You still don’t trust me?’

‘It’s not about trust. I don’t know you.’ Even to my own ears it sounds weak.

His voice drops. ‘Come in with me and I’ll show you all you need to know.’ He laughs at me again as he sees the look of uncertainty in my eyes.

‘Come on Joseee, it’s only water, I’ll take you home after. If you want we can wait till you dry out. You in a hurry? I’m not. I got all day if you want.’

‘I’m not that confident with the big waves,’ I confess, mentally kicking myself for not taking the swimming lessons I’d promised myself.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he says, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around me. He kisses the back of my head.

‘Come ooonnn,’ he pleads, and I know I’ve given in.

‘OK.’ Maybe the water will cool me down, loosen the knot forming in my stomach, release the tension building in my groin.

He holds my hand and we run into the waves laughing like five year olds. The first one hits us unexpectedly. I begin to fall but he holds me close.

‘Stay with me baby,’ he whispers in my ear, ‘you’re safe with me baby. That’s it baby, relax, it’s easier to ride the waves when you relax; everything’s easier when you relax. That’s it, relax.’

He kisses me hard as a wave washes over us. He holds me steady. I feel safe.

He raises me up above the next big wave. I feel exhilarated, high on the sea and the danger and the spray and the… As he lowers me slowly, I feel him hard against my stomach. He kisses my ear, my neck, my chest. His tongue finds my nipple. I wrap my legs around his waist and arch my back and moan as he sets off my Christmas lights again. He knows instinctively when the next wave is coming and lifts me over it.

I don’t resist as he guides my hand into his shorts. With nothing to constrain him, it slips easily into my hand. Now it’s his turn to moan. He’s hard, and despite the water, hot and pulsating in my hand.

He finds my nipple again. It’s delicious. His tongue hot and soft; now slow, now fast, now long, now short, snaking over my nipples. My hand rides his shaft. He holds me tight with his left hand and slides his right hand over the top of my leggings so quickly and deftly I hardly notice… till I feel his finger on my clit. I jump as electricity shoot through my body.

‘Oh baby,’ he says between mouthfuls of nipple, ‘oh baby.’

We ride the waves like this for what seem like hours. I get to the brink of climax but can’t get over the edge.

‘Come on baby, let it go,’ he says, ‘let it go for me baby.’

‘It’s too public,’ I say finally.

‘You want to go somewhere private?’ he whispers.

‘Yes,’ I hear myself say above the crash of the wave. ‘Yes please.’

We sit on a rocky outcrop drying out. Our bodies still taut, still eager. I wrap his palm around my cheek and nuzzle my head into his shoulder; then take his middle finger into my mouth and suck it, like a boa constrictor applying pressure as I move from tip to hand. I feel him swelling.

‘Do you do oral?’ he asks me tentatively.

‘Aahh hum,’ I answer, still sucking on his finger.

‘I need to go and get showered,’ I’m feeling sticky and salty, and the image of Richard’s oral has just popped into my head.

‘In the shower here?’

‘No, at home.’

‘You not running out on me are you?’ He sounds suspicious.

‘Pick me up in an hour,’ I say when he drops me at Celia’s apartment.

Grant

Of all the days to be stuck in traffic. I told her I’d meet her at seven and its seven thirty
already. It would have been easy if I didn’t have to take Mel to work. This morning she seem to take her time getting ready, we leave fifteen minutes late, and that fifteen minutes make all the difference. It’s like she purposefully slowing me down. For such a small island, it take such a long time to get across town in the mornings. I wonder how they would manage in a place like New York, but I don’t even want to think about that. Now it’s eight o’clock, just praying she still here. I grab my bag with the towel and spare shorts I put in the car last night before I go to bed.

She not hard to see in her bright red vest, the waves lapping her ankles as she walk toward me. I watch her for a minute before she see me. Her vest wet and sticking to her body, showing all her curves, her skin glistening with sweat. I think, this is how she look wet, and I like it. My heart start beating faster straight away. I give her a hug when I catch up with her.

‘Sorry I’m late babes. I had some problems with my alarm.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Set it for six thirty and forget to switch it on,’ I lie. ‘Didn’t wake up till seven thirty.’

‘You got here quickly,’

‘Just throw a few things in a bag and run down here. Sorry I keep you waiting babes.’

‘No wait, I’ve finished. Just going to do my stretches.’

‘Let me stretch with you. Is the least I can do.’

I do a few stretches and some press-ups, but most of the time I’m watching her. I wonder if she know how much she turning me on when she bend over to touch her toes and I can imagine entering her from behind, or when she do that strange twist with her hips and I can feel her riding my cock. It hard to hide an erection in beach shorts so I ask her if she wants to go in the water. She full of excuses, stupid ones about getting wet; she wet already, a bit more not going to make any difference. I have to use my little boy ‘pleeasse’ on her, tell her I will take care of her in the water before she say ‘OK’.

We run into the waves holding hands like a couple of kids. She’s nervous of the big waves and when one hit us I have to hold her tight to stop her panicking. She like a frightened animal. I have to talk to her gently, tell her to relax. The more I talk to her, the more I feel her relax, the more she turn me on. I kiss her, taste the salt on her lips, feel her nipples hard against my chest. I’m ready for her to resist me when I move to her breast but instead she wrap her legs round me and offer herself up to me. She like a ripe mango. Soft, succulent, smooth. Her nipple, that part where it was once attached to the tree, hard against my tongue.