Deep Surrendering: Episode Four (2 page)

Things came naturally to us after we started kissing. We had been together before, so we were familiar enough with each other’s bodies. I tried my best not to touch him other than to kiss him, but I rested my hands lightly on his chest and he didn’t push me away.

Growing bolder, I fisted his shirt in my hands, but he pulled his mouth from mine.

“Red?” I asked. “But just the touching, right? Not the whole thing?”

“Just for the touching. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Message received.” I put my lips to his again and kept my arms at my sides. It was much more difficult to not touch him when we were facing each another. That was probably another reason he didn’t like to do it this way.

His hands fluttered over my skin, hesitant at first, but he grew more confident the longer we kissed. I opened my mouth and he dipped his tongue inside.

Slipping my bra straps over my shoulders, he undid the clasp with a flick of his wrist before pulling it down my arms and letting it land on the floor. My panties followed. He went for his zipper, but I stopped him with my voice.

“Get on the bed. Please.” It seemed rude to ask without a please. He nodded and climbed on the bed, laying on his back and waiting for me.

“Would it be easier with all the lights off?”

“Yes,” he said, so I turned everything off and pulled the curtains closed so the room was as dark as possible. His eyes still followed me, watching as I moved.

“Ready?” I asked for the last time.

“Yes.” I climbed on the bed next to him, and we lay side by side for a moment.

“Do you want to be on top?” The symbiosis we experienced a few moments before had evaporated and now things were awkward again.

“Top, I think. Yes, top would be good.” He sounded like I was asking him what kind of ice cream flavor he wanted.

He was looking at the ceiling and breathing deep like he was meditating. Even in the dark though, I could see the bulge in his pants.

I waited. And waited.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—” I started to say, but then he was on top of me, pressing my body into the mattress but still supporting most of his weight with his arms. I made a surprised sound that was cut off by his mouth on mine. I think he didn’t want me to speak, as usual, but at least facing one another we could kiss to keep me quiet.

He sat up and unzipped his pants, fumbling a bit before he got them undone, and reached for a condom. Shoving them down, he let himself free.

I bit my lip as I looked at him. I’d only had a quick glance the first time we (almost) had sex. The first time when he left me.

He rolled the condom on so fast I nearly missed it. Before I realized he was going to go through with it, he shoved me back and plunged inside me. I’d been ready all night, but the intrusion was so fast that I pulled back a little.

“Whoa, slow down,” I said as he pulled out and prepared to enter me again. I wasn’t supposed to speak, but it had been involuntary. His face was set with grim determination. Like sex was a task he had to complete. No. This was wrong. So wrong.

He stopped but wouldn’t look at my face.

“Fin,” I said, reaching up to touch his face. “Look at me. Look at my eyes. I don’t want this to be an ordeal you have to get through. Do you want me to turn over?”

“No. No. I can do this. Just … give me a minute.” This was quickly turning from something sensual to something I just wanted to get over with.

He started the deep breathing again, and I felt all my desire to have sex evaporate in the dark room.

“Lilac,” I said, using my safeword.

His reaction was immediate and violent. He threw himself away from me and scrambled to get off the bed.

“I’m sorry!” he said, heading for the door. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” I grabbed my shirt from the floor and shoved it over my head. It stopped right past my hips, so it covered what I needed it to cover. I got to him just as he started to open the door.

“I stopped because I didn’t want it to be that way. I didn’t want sex with me to be a negative thing. Something you had to get through. I never want that with you. It’s been a long day, okay? Maybe we should call it a night.” I hated the idea of going home alone, but I didn’t think he wanted me to stay.

“I’ve fucked this up so badly, Marisol. I wish I could give this to you, but it’s hard. I’ve spent years not getting close to people and keeping them away, and to change that in one night … I guess I can’t.” He zipped his pants up and opened the door.

“No,” I said, grabbing his arm and making him turn around. “I want to talk about this. If we don’t, it’s just going to fester and get worse. I don’t want this to stand between us. Please, Fin.” His eyes blazed down at me and I couldn’t read his expression.

“I’m leaving, Marisol. In a few days. I’m leaving,” he said, his voice tight.

“I know we haven’t talked about the future, but … I don’t want this to end. I want you in my life if you’re here or a thousand miles away.”

“This is, this is crazy. Irrational.”

“I know. It is. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” I wished we could just kiss and he’d lead me back to the bed and make slow, gentle love to me, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t in the right headspace for that. His demons had wrapped themselves around his mind, coiling and squeezing like snakes, swallowing his rational thoughts and leaving only fear and darkness behind.

We needed some light right now. I wasn’t going to get anything out of him by begging or demanding. I’d have to soften my approach. Or maybe try something completely different.

“Do you have any ice cream?” I asked, and that definitely got his attention. I remembered our first date when we’d eaten ice cream and how he laughed when it ran down his arm.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes. I always find talking about things you don’t want to talk about is easier with ice cream. Come on.” I looped my arm with his and dragged him to the kitchen.

“Ice cream isn’t going to fix this situation.”

“Shh,” I said, putting my finger to his lips. “Ice cream first.”

He just happened to have a container of mint chocolate chip in the very back of his freezer that he didn’t remember buying. I found two spoons and popped the top on the container as he got out some bowls.

“No. No bowls. We’re eating it straight from the container. It tastes better that way.” I stuck my spoon in and scooped out the first bite, putting it into my mouth and rolling the sweet creaminess around. He’d gotten the good stuff.

“Do you have a scientific study to back up that assertion?” Finally. The sweet joking Fin was starting to come back. I missed him.

“Of course I do. I would never say something like that without having scientific findings to back me up. Unfortunately, I don’t have them on me, but I’ll fax you a copy.”

He sighed. “Marisol,” Fin said, setting down his spoon. “This isn’t going to work. This distraction.”

“Well, it won’t if you set your spoon down.” I scooped up some more ice cream and put it in my mouth.

“Marisol.” His voice was sharp and I looked up from the ice cream container.

“Look, I’m doing my best here. I used my safeword because you looked so uncomfortable and scared, and I don’t want that for us. I want us to be open and able to talk to each other. I could feel you pulling away from me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not currently accepting sorrys from you. Have some ice cream.” I loaded up my spoon and held it out for him. “It’s going to melt, hurry up.” Some dripped on the counter, but I didn’t pull my hand back.

He hesitated but then opened his mouth and I stuck the spoon in.

“You’ve got something on your face,” I said as some of the ice cream dripped down his chin.

“Where? Here?” He pointed to his forehead, and I could feel the energy from our first date returning. “Or how about here?” He pointed to his left cheek.

“No. Here,” I said, swiping my thumb across his chin, gathering the excess ice cream. Before I could draw my hand back, he grabbed my wrist and dipped my finger into his mouth, licking it clean.

Fin sucked on my thumb and the energy shifted again.

“Stop doing that,” I said, and he removed my finger from his mouth. “No, not that. You can definitely keep doing that.” I plunged it into his mouth again.

“Do you like that?” he asked, speaking around my thumb.

“Uh huh.”

And just as things had changed and I thought we were headed back to the bedroom, he gave my hand back.

“We shouldn’t.”

It was so hard not to get upset and yell at him. Patience wasn’t normally one of my virtues, but somehow I managed it when I was with Fin.

“You started it. I’m getting a lot of mixed signals here, Fin. You need to stop doing that to me. I’m not a light switch you can turn on and turn off. You’re confused and it’s confusing me. And don’t apologize for it. I think we should just end things here for tonight and I should go home.” So much for the ice cream distraction.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said.

I should have just done the candle party. Chlo was going to be disappointed when I told her about our date flop. It had started out so well, and then had gotten derailed.

“I had fun dancing with you,” I said, realizing I needed to put the rest of my clothes on so I could get home. I’d definitely attract too much attention wearing just my shirt.

“So did I. I wish that I could give you what you want.”

“I’m sorry that I pushed you into something you weren’t ready for. I think we just need to take some time to regroup.” There wasn’t much time left, and I would be damned if I let him leave before we somehow worked things out. It definitely wasn’t going to end like this.

I wouldn’t let it.

Carl drove me home, despite my protests. He hummed to himself as he drove back to my apartment.

“How long have you worked for Fin?” I asked, feeling the need to break the silence.

“Well, I started working for his father and then Fin inherited my services.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It made him sound like a china cabinet and not a person.

“They’re very good employers, Miss Everly. I wouldn’t want to work for anyone else. And Fin is a good man, no matter what anyone says about him.”

I leaned forward in my seat so I could hear him better.

“What do people say about him?” If I was still floating in the upper echelons of society in Boston, I’d probably know. But I’d left a lot of that behind, and I would have ignored it even if I had heard something.

“Nothing worth repeating,” he said, and that was the end of asking about that. Rory had never mentioned anything, but then she would have gotten most of the gossip from her parents, and they didn’t like to talk badly of others. Unlike my parents who spread gossip like it was going out of style.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just don’t know much about him besides what my friend Rory told me.”

“Rory Clarke?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a lovely girl. The elder Mr. Herald wanted her for Mr. Fin, but they weren’t compatible.” That was putting it mildly. At least now they were friends. Their parents had tried to push them together so forcefully that they rebelled and all it did was push them apart. Knowing both of them, they definitely wouldn’t work as a couple.