Dark Star (11 page)

He continued to lave her up and down her
slit until she cried out from the tremors wracking her body, but
when he took her clit between his lips and began tugging on it
gently she arched on the bed in a position that should’ve broken
her back. Pleasure soared up from her clit and raged through her
body, leaving her helpless in its wake. Unable to think, barely
able to even breathe, her life, the whole universe was focused on
this one explosive moment. She cried out, unable to form words as
the sucking continued, increasing in intensity until she was sure
she would die. Then just when she though she couldn’t bear another
second, the orgasm snatched her into its clutches then flung her
into an abyss of ecstasy that left her quivering in its
aftermath.

Nate rose to his feet and grabbed one of the
condoms she’d left on the nightstand. He sheathed himself then
moved between her legs again.

“
Are you sure?” he asked her again, still
in French. She nodded. “The words, I need you to say the words.
Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

How could he have any doubt? “Yes Nate, I
want this. I want you,” she said forcing herself to speak through
the languor left by her orgasm.

He slowly leaned forward until the head of
his penis pressed against her opening. She tensed expecting pain
and he bent at the waist to kiss her gently while he continued
making entrance into her body. There was a brief pain, and then he
was there all the way.

“
Are you okay?” he asked, panting.

She smiled up at him. It was probably a
shaky smile because okay was such a mundane word for what she was
feeling, but at that moment he began moving inside her. The
fullness of his penis stretched her and brought her clit into the
right position for optimal stimulation. Again and again he drove
into her, slowly and carefully at first then with increasing power
until she was begging, pleading for more. He slowed to a grin,d
pressing the base of his penis against her clit until she thought
she would lose her mind. And just in that second she did,
catapulted into a deep well of pleasure she’d never dreamed could
happen the first time. Then with another stroke, then two, then
another Nate suddenly cried out, his voice breaking as his own
orgasm slammed into him.

Tonya couldn’t help but smile at the memories
of the first time she’d made love. Despite her bitterness and anger
at him she was woman enough to appreciate the way he’d made it
special. She had friends who had been pressured into hurried
encounters in the back seats of cars. Her first time had been
wonderfully romantic, and even with the pain that came later she
never regretted it.

* * * * *

Nate stepped into the bamboo enclosure of his
outdoor shower. It was one of his favorite features in his little
house and usually he enjoyed watching the postcard perfect beach
scene below, but right now he had only one thought on his mind:
Tonya. No one on earth could drive him crazy like her and touching
her always pushed him right to the edge of pure animal lust. A
total suspension of finesse and sophistication. A deep need to
simply penetrate and explode in rapture. No way in hell would he be
able to leave her alone unless he got this under control. He
planted both hands on either side of the wall under the broad
showerhead and let the cold water rush over him; his body throbbed
and ached for her, and only for her. He shivered from the frigid
ablution until he adjusted to the temperature, then he leaned
against the back wall of the enclosure, his overheated flesh almost
sizzling where it came into contact with the cool tiled
surface.

He wrapped his hand around his erect penis,
stroking up and down the turgid length imagining that she was there
with him. He groaned out loud again, and again as his feverish
fantasy drove his lust even higher. He sped up the motion of his
hand as he pictured her taking him into her mouth, her tongue
caressing the head as she sucked deeply on him. His eyes closed as
he continued the motion, faster and faster every cell in his body
craving her touch. He pumped furiously now almost hurting from the
intensity of pleasure that arrowed up from his penis and traveled
the length of his spine.

His neck canted back from the strain as he
pushed harder and harder, striving to reach the penultimate
pleasure. Just when he thought he couldn’t last another second, his
orgasm hit him so suddenly he was left lightheaded, it suddenly
dropped him in an explosive release. He gasped Tonya’s name again
and again through gritted teeth. Gradually his breathing slowed and
he reached over to turn off the taps. What in all living hell was
he going to do? He had to have her again; he couldn’t live if she
wouldn’t be his. She didn’t trust him and rightfully so: he’d
behaved like a fucking idiot. But she wanted him, that was obvious
and maybe, just maybe that would be enough. If she ever trusted him
enough to give herself to him again nothing, not even the promise
of heaven itself would ever tear him away from her.

* * * * *

“What are you trying to do? Start your own
movie theatre?” It hadn’t rained the entire time she’d been on
Tipitoe Island, but that morning they’d had a freak thunderstorm
that still hadn’t abated. It wasn’t like rainstorms back home; this
rain came down as if someone had emptied a bucket of water over
them, but it was surprisingly cozy in his little beach hut. Even
so, Tonya was restless as they couldn’t go out and swim or do any
of the other activities she’d grown accustomed to, like spear
fishing. She’d managed to keep to her writing schedule while on the
island and usually woke early to write for four or five hours. This
morning was much the same. After completing her word count in for
the day she’d read with Nate for much of the morning, now she was
going through his extensive DVD collection.

Nate looked up from his book. “When you don’t
have cable or internet you tend to buy a lot of DVDs. I’m not here
much and try to spend most of my time outdoors, but I have been
here during the wet before and know to be prepared.”

“The wet, what’s that?”

“Monsoon season. Happens around December or
so, pretty much rains every day.”

“Like this?” She gestured toward the roof
where they could hear the rain pouring down steadily against the
palm frond thatch. He nodded. “Damn, I’m surprised anything is
left.”

“The people here know how to build for it;
the thatching is lightweight but twisted together. It tends to shed
water in a way more conventional roofs would not,” he said.

“Hmmm, that’s interesting.” She returned to
studying his movies. “You have a lot of Hitchcock,” she mused. “You
feel like a marathon? Perfect day for some popcorn and movies.
You’ve got several I haven’t seen.”

“As you wish, little sister, besides I’d
never turn down a Hitchcock marathon. I’ll make the popcorn, you
pick out some movies.” Before long they were comfortably ensconced
on the sofa sharing a bowl of popcorn. Hitchcock was her favorite
director and she was quickly caught up in the psychological
thriller. When the popcorn was gone she didn’t bother to move. She
had to admit she enjoyed being so close to Nate. His warm, familiar
presence soothed the restlessness that had plagued her since their
arrival on the island. Back when they were lovers they’d spent many
Saturday afternoons this way: studying, watching movies or
football. The memories should have been enough to drive her away,
but she felt so comfortable it hardly seemed worth the effort.
Before long his soothing presence allowed her to drift off to
sleep.

Tonya awakened slowly, disconcerted for a
moment as she didn’t know where she was. It took a while to realize
that her head was in Nate’s lap and she was sprawled out
perpendicular to where he was seated on the sofa. As she watched
him stretch and yawn it was obvious that he’d just awakened as well
and was equally surprised by their positions. He raised one hand to
her cheek and stroked it softly. Tonya placed her hand over his to
move it away but forgot what she was doing as her eyes locked with
his. The soft, loving expression on his face melted all her good
intentions away in a flash. Self-preservation gave her the instinct
to lever herself up to move from his lap, but he moved his hand to
hold her head in place for his kiss. When he leaned down she moved
to meet him halfway. Despite the overwhelming emotions roiling
inside her the first kiss was soft, exploratory, but in a split
second it flamed into an inferno.

She grabbed Nate’s shoulders, pressing
against him eagerly as their mouths fused together. He sucked on
her tongue as though he could never get enough and she cried out as
her body clenched with desire. Before she knew it she was beneath
him on the sofa writhing with need, begging to feel him deep inside
her. And he was begging too:
“S’il te plaît. S’il te plaît.”
He pleaded over and over again. Then more desperate words she
didn’t understand. She slid her hands under his loose-fitting
t-shirt stroking the heated skin as his teeth sank into the
sensitive flesh at the base of her throat. She sought his lips,
wanting needing to absorb as much of him as possible. She stroked
the inside of his mouth with her tongue causing him to cry out
again:
“Je t’aime.”

She remembered that one and it was like being
doused with ice water. Before she had a chance to reconsider her
actions she shoved him to the floor and sprang to her feet. She
stood over him, panting, trying to get a grip on her anger and the
lust that still throbbed through her body. He sat on the floor
blinking up at her like a startled owl.

“What? What did I do? Did I hurt you?” he
said.

“How dare you!” she raged.

“How dare I what?”

“Don’t ever say you love me again. You never
did love me and you certainly don’t now.”

“I do and always have,” he said.

“Yeah, you’ve certainly acted like it,” she
sneered, refusing to hear the sincerity in his simple words.

“No, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t
love you,
L’oignon.
”

“And that’s another thing, you don’t need to
use French to seduce me. I’m not some stupid schoolgirl who gets
all giddy over that shit anymore,” she said, lying through her
teeth.

Nate rose to his feet in one graceful almost
balletic movement. “Seduce you? You think I make love in French to
seduce you? I really am starting to believe that you’re crazier
than hell...” His words trailed off as he shook his head with the
force usually reserved for erasing an Etch-a-Sketch, then he
exhaled slowly through his nose. “French is my native tongue. I
make love to you in French because I lose my fucking mind when I’m
with you and can’t think straight, let alone speak in another
language.”

She took a deep breath taken aback by his
words. “Oh.”

“When I want to seduce a woman I do it in
Italian, not French. But if it bothers you I’ll try not to speak at
all next time.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” she said with a
shrug, then her breath caught as she realized what she’d agreed to.
“Not that there will be a next time.”

He approached her slowly. “Oh there will be a
next time,” he said softly.

“You arrogant asshole.”

“Guilty as charged, but this has nothing to
do with arrogance,” he said with a very Gallic shrug. “This thing
between us isn’t over, Onion. I don’t think it ever will be.”

Tonya took a deep breath, trying to find the
words to refute what he’d just said, but there were none. So, for
only the second time she could remember, she turned tail and ran
for her life, if not her soul.

On the other side of the door, Tonya paced
furiously, wrestling with a decision. Despite her rage, she
couldn’t deny the way her body cried out for his. Apparently the
bitch below had no dignity or self-respect. Just thinking about
being near him again left her wet and aching for his touch, but
she’d never been so angry in her life. The very idea that he
thought he could just say those words to her left her breathless
with rage. Words he didn’t mean; had never meant. She’d fallen for
that once, but no way in hell was she going there again. Never one
to sugarcoat things she had to face facts; no matter how pissed off
she was at the moment, and she was pretty pissed, she still wanted
him. Wanted him bad. So now came the burning question; could she
have sex with him without catching feelings again?

Only God knew what he was involved in and the
last thing she needed was more drama. She wasn’t stupid enough to
trust him, but still she wanted him. Did she really have to trust
him to have sex with him? And could she detach herself enough to go
through with it? Convinced that she could, she turned to walk back
through the door, but hesitated. Was this her clit talking or her
brain? She sighed heavily as she conceded that she probably wasn’t
listening to her brain. That was bound to get her into trouble, but
she wanted this badly enough to take that chance. She wasn’t
stupid; the man would be leaving soon anyway. If not to go after
this bad guy he’d eventually have other assignments. She had no
place in his life and wasn’t sure she’d want to be in it even if
she could be. But how badly would she be hurt and could she afford
to go through it all over again? She moved away from the door and
walked over to flop facedown on the full-size bed that dominated
the room. Damnit, she was right back at the original question and
still her body all but wept for his.

Chapter Seven

Nate stood watching as the door closed behind
her. His first thought was to follow, but he immediately checked
the impulse. All that would do was get him a kick to the groin or
his throat ripped out. He heaved a sigh. There was nothing else for
it; he either needed a long swim or yet another cold shower. He
looked out the window where the rain was still coming down
steadily. It would have to be a shower. But he hesitated, taking a
seat on the sofa instead. He ejected the movie that had put both of
them to sleep and turned on a soccer game instead. World Cup
qualifying matches were a welcome distraction, but before he could
get too engrossed the door opened and she stood there her long
sensuous body framed in the doorway. He looked up at her but before
he could ask the question she answered him.