Message From Viola Mari (11 page)

“Trust me, he won’t.” I smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind one ear.

“How do you know?” She placed her perfectly manicured hands on her hips.

“Let me put it to you bluntly—it’s in their genes. If he says
yes
, the possibility of getting laid still exists, if he says
no
, it doesn’t. Come on, you know how men operate.”

“I do?”

After the millions of how-to-land-a-man lectures I’d endured during jogs around every street in La Jolla, I was giving her advice. “I hope so. You’re supposed to be the matchmaking expert.”

“Oh, I know. It’s so much easier on paper.”

“So are you going to follow my advice?”

“I guess so,” she said. Her hunched shoulders and slow saunter back toward the room didn’t fool me in the least. That sparkly come-and-get-me look in her dark eyes said she couldn’t wait to talk to him.

Jennifer’s hand trembled as she dropped a folded piece of paper onto Steve’s desk.
A note?
I wondered how that would go over.

He picked up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he looked at Jennifer, his face expressionless. I glanced over at my friend. I felt so sorry for her. Her lips trembled in that Jennifer-like way, which meant she was about to melt into a teary mush. By now, this dramatic scene had attracted everyone’s attention. Even Justin peered anxiously over the rims of his reading glasses.

Then a miracle happened. Steve reached in his pocket and pulled out the note. He unfolded it and read it before looking back at Jennifer and offering her a nod and a subtle smile. She blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor as a smile broke over her face.

A round of clapping ensued.

“Okay, well now that you two have decided where to meet after class, can we get back to Marissa’s manuscript?” asked Justin.

“I personally like the idea of the impact sites being some kind of passageway,” said Amanda. “The body eating concept is just so gross.”

“But it might look kind of cool on screen,” said Mark. “You know, the rocks eating away the flesh on someone’s body.”

“Oh, please,” said Jennifer. “And you probably liked Alien vs. Predator too, I bet.”

Steve laughed and cast her an affectionate glance. She blushed and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Why can’t you decide which way to write the story, Marissa?” asked Justin.

“Well, it’s kind of complicated.” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I wasn’t sure how to answer him without giving myself away.

“If the meteorite impacts consume people, then it’s a horror story. If it’s a passageway leading somewhere else, your story is different altogether. It’s a kind of fantasy, an escape from reality. Which do you want to create?”

“I want the escape,” I answered. I wanted the boy to still be alive and for a day to come when his mother would cry happy tears as she enfolded him in her arms.

A week later, Jennifer and I went out to lunch after class and then spent the afternoon shopping. “I’m so excited. Tonight we’re going on a real date,” said Jennifer. Warm red spots sprouted on her cheeks and her bare arms as if she had just spent an hour running on the treadmill.

“You’re a surprise,” I said. “The dating expert turned blushing teenager.”

“I can’t help it. For some reason, Steve makes me completely insane,” Jennifer chirped. “I can barely even sleep anymore.”

“I think when you meet the right o—”

The ring of her cell phone cut in to our conversation.

“Hello.” She sounded so eager, I thought she might dive right through the receiver. “Oh, Steve, it’s you. That would be nice. That sounds perfect. Yes, you can pick me up at seven. I’m looking forward to it too.”

When she hung up the phone, she shouted “He’s taking me to the Fish House for dinner. He’s reserved a table overlooking the Harbor. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“It sounds wonderful,” I said.
Who knew this writing class would lead to so much excitement?

Early Sunday morning, Justin and I drove up to Alpine, an hour’s drive inland. We parked at a trailhead and organized our backpacks in preparation for an eight-mile hike. I watched the sun recast the pastel-colored morning sky into brilliant turquoise.

As I followed Justin up the rugged, rocky trail, admiring his well-sculpted backside, he turned to speak to me. “So I was thinking, since there’s only a couple more weeks until the semester ends, we might take a little trip together when I’m on break.”

The love and desire I saw in his gold-flecked eyes made me want to yell
of course I’ll go
. Guilt got in the way. “A trip?” As much as I wanted to run away with him to some exotic place, I’d planned to spend extra hours studying the NRG meteorite sites during the holiday season when Matt and my other supervisors took days off and there was less other work to distract me. Since the day the rock went temporarily permeable in class, it had transformed back to a solid and stayed that way. I was eager to dive down to one of the shallower sites when the composition shifted, to see if I could film an object passing through the rocks.

“I guess it was a silly idea. I just thought it would be fun to spend a romantic week together without distractions.”

Why can’t you just do this for yourself just this once? Allow yourself to spend every minute of seven whole days with him before it all ends.
I longed to awaken to his aroused nakedness morning after morning. But by the time I thought of something to say, he’d walked on. “Wait,” I shouted. I jogged up to catch him and tapped him on the shoulder. “It doesn’t sound silly. It sounds really romantic, actually. I mean if you really want to get to know someone, you travel with them, right? And if you don’t hate them by the end of the week, you know the relationship is worth something.”

He turned toward me, frowning. His tanned face glistened with sweat. “You make me sound like one of your science projects. Test and analyze. I just want some alone time with you.”

“I’d like some alone time with you, too.” I tugged on one of his blond curls. “Where do you plan to take me?”

He leaned in and kissed me, sending shockwaves of excitement through my body. “Oh, I thought maybe we could hole up in some remote beachside resort in Central America—where we could skinny dip at sundown without catching a chill. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds perfect.” I leaned in for another, more prolonged tongue entangling kiss.

Chapter Twelve

We flew to Belize, sipping Chardonnay from plastic cups. Just as I began to feel pleasantly intoxicated, Justin pulled some papers from his briefcase. They looked all too familiar. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about these,” he said.
Uh, oh.
He pointed to a paragraph on the page where the heroine determined the rock had transformed so someone or something could pass through it. “Where did you come up with this idea?” he asked. “This concept of people passing through craters? The green light you mentioned made me think of that boy who disappeared a couple of months ago.” A foreign-looking man sitting across the aisle from us elbowed a dozing man beside him. The man opened his eyes and both of them glanced in our direction. Somehow, they seemed interested in our discussion.
I must be imagining things.

I shrugged my shoulders and feigned a yawn. “It just seems to make sense, that’s all. For the story, I mean. It would have been gross to have man-eating meteorite rocks.”

Justin frowned. “Well for most of the semester, you had me fooled. But after reading your work several times last night, I figured it out. This person I’m reading about is you—and I believe you’re using the writing process to help you make conclusions about your research.”

I threw back my head, clapped my hands, and burst out laughing. “Oh now that’s just hilarious.” One of the suspicious men raised an eyebrow while the other typed something into a handheld device.
Damn—they are eavesdropping.

I fumbled around nervously in my pocket, jumbling the sample of meteorite rock I’d been carrying with me everywhere like a good-luck charm.

“I went to the library and read every article you’ve written on the NRG meteorites.”

I’ve got to find a way to derail him from this conversation. We could be in danger.
“That’s great. I’m glad you find my research so interesting.”

“And in those articles you mention how the rocks change structure sometimes.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“So have they ever transformed so objects can pass through them?”

I forced out a laugh. “Of course not--I was just writing science fiction.”

“Why can’t you be honest with me, Marissa?”

Where do I start? With the two men in the next aisle staring at us and entering notes in their handhelds? Or with the fact that if word gets out to Matt without proof, I’ll soon be holding up a will work for food sign?
“I am being honest. It’s just a story, okay. Now can you let this go?”

“Fine.” Justin shoved the papers back in his briefcase and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning away from me.

I felt guilty for shutting him out. It would be such a relief to share my secrets with him, to let the person I trusted most into my unbelievable world. Once the two men dozed off, I whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry I lied to you earlier. You were right about my story. But this information could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. And I think we’re being watched.” I pointed toward the two men nearby.

He turned toward me, his breath warming my cheek. Then he grasped my hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry—your secrets are safe with me.” I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder, feeling comforted by his words, even though he, like everyone else, didn’t believe me. My female intuition gave me a jolt of life-preserving adrenaline, warning me that our lives were in peril.

It was dark when we reached Belize City. A taxi transported us from the airport through a city of narrow, crowded streets to a small beach side hotel. We rang the bell outside the gate and waited for a sleepy manager to emerge. He asked our names in Spanish, handed us a wooden key and escorted us to our room. We dropped our bags inside and stepped out for a walk.

The moon had risen, tracing a shimmering pathway of light across the ocean. The warm breeze blew strands of hair around my face. All my senses aroused, I skipped ahead of Justin, threw up my arms and twirled around. “I love it here.” And I love you, my heart whispered.

My enthusiastic dance brought me back to him and he took my hand and spun me around like we were dancing and then slung his arm around my shoulder as we strolled down the beach.

As we ducked under a cluster of palm trees that dipped low toward the ocean, Justin dropped into the sand and, pulled me down with him. I dropped neatly into his lap. Pulling me tight up against his chest, he folded his lips over mine. His kisses were rough and hungry. He penetrated my mouth with his tongue, exploring and setting all my nerve endings on fire. I met his urgency with equal fervor. I yearned to feel the contours of his lips, his tongue, and his muscular body pressing into me, to heighten the desire that brought my nipples to attention and created a warm wetness between my thighs.

I clung to the unruly curls behind his head, tugging his face in closer. Five o’clock shadow bristles scraped against my face, inciting my desire. I tipped back my head and let him trace circles on my neck with his tongue. I moaned and writhed with pleasure. “You want me bad, don’t you?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” I cried. He raised my arms so he could yank my shirt over my head. Without pause, he hurriedly unzipped and pulled down my jeans. He moved his hands over my thighs and slid a finger inside my slit.

“Oh my God, you’re wet. It’s going to feel so good to bury myself inside of you.”

After sliding in and out of my wet opening several times, first with one, then two fingers, he quickly disrobed. I let out an aching sigh. The sight of his rippling muscles under the moonlight incited my lust. “Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

I wasn’t used to men ordering me around, but for some reason, his brusque command sounded so sinfully delicious, it turned me on more than ever.
I could cum just listening to him talk.
I kneeled on the sand with my buttocks exposed to him. I felt so vulnerable, so desperate to have him bury himself to the hilt inside of me. He slid his full length inside of me almost immediately, which made me cry out.

“God, you feel good,” he moaned. “You’re so tight.” When he tongued the back of my neck, tickly tingles raced down my spine.

He penetrated me deeper than he ever had before, so deep I felt the entire breadth of my vagina stretching to accommodate him. “Oh, yes,” I cried, gasping for breath every time he slammed into me so pleasantly deep I saw stars all around and every nerve ending inside of my cried out
more, more, more
. “Give it to me. This feels so good.”

“Every inch I have is all yours.” His voice sounded hoarse with desire.

“You’ve got so many delicious inches.” He laughed and then flicked his tongue over my back and shoulders, further inciting my pleasure. I moaned and licked my lips, turning myself over to the lusty pleasure that pulsed inside of me. “Oh, Justin,” I cried out as my insides shattered in ecstatic release.

Chapter Thirteen

In a battered Toyota 4-Runner, we drove on the two-lane Hummingbird Highway from Belize City toward Placencia. The sparsely vegetated, flat terrain gradually morphed into a lush jungle of rolling hills. Some of the tropical forest acres had been replanted with orange tree farms.

“Look at all those orange trees. I feel like we’re on a set for a Minute Maid commercial,” Justin said.

I laughed. “Yeah, really. We shouldn’t lack freshly squeezed orange juice, wherever we end up.” I loved the uncertainty of our plans, taking an unplanned trip with no need to arrive anywhere at a specific time. These were the kind of adventures I loved, the kind I’d usually done on my own. For the first time, I had a companion who shared my passion for excitement and the unfamiliar.

We bounced over a narrow bridge that led us from the developed part of Belize into less explored territory. For miles, we climbed hills and descended into valleys of lush tangled jungle. Towering palm trees, bushy palm trees, wild banana trees with machete-shaped fronds and deciduous trees with enormous leaves—almost all of them draped with wild vines—thrived in the wet, tropical climate.