As soon as she left, Cade rocketed from the
room, yelling at Hale that he’d be waiting in the truck. Kyra bit
back her own laugh only because she knew it would hurt too much.
She swatted at Hale’s leg.
“Quit laughing and help me up. I think I
broke my ass.”
An hour later, everyone was gone, and Kyra
had finished cleaning the kitchen and bringing in all the dishes
and leftovers from outside. She checked on Stevie on her way out.
Her best friend was flung sideways across her bed with a wet towel
still wrapped around her body. Her breath was even and deep, her
expression peaceful and soft.
Kyra slipped out of the large, quiet house,
making certain to lock the doors behind her. She walked along the
edge of the beach and into her back garden, which was still a mess.
Tomorrow she would need to fix this too. In addition to reshooting
the mud mask tutorial she’d messed up. Thinking of that made her
shake her head, smiling.
“What are you smiling at?”
She gasped and jumped back from her porch
steps. A figure was sitting in the chair next to the door. He stood
and came into the light.
“Hale,” Kyra breathed. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he said, having the good grace to
look apologetic.
“What are you doing here?” She climbed the
steps and looked up at his face. The night cast angular shadows
across his jaw and cheekbones so that only half his face showed. He
was breathtaking in any light, she realized.
“I told Cade to go on home.” He closed the
distance between them and ran his rough hand up her arm. He stopped
as if he realized. “Your skin is so soft, so perfect. Do my hands
hurt you?”
“No,” She answered quickly, reaching for his
other hand. “I like it.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to leave tonight.”
Hale wove his hand around to the back of her neck, setting her
nerve endings on fire and pulling her closer, until their foreheads
were touching. He was so tall that he had to bow over her, arching
his body around her. Kyra ran her hand up his chest, marveling at
the muscles that danced beneath her hand. She paused over his heart
to feel the solid beat beneath the press of her palm.
“Come inside?”
He drew back slightly to look her in the
eyes. Deep lines formed between his brows as he studied her face,
looking for her honesty. She wondered if she’d pushed her emotions
so far down that it was impossible to show them anymore. She took a
shaky breath and ran her thumb across his lips. Right then she
considered telling him that she was a virgin, but when her eyes
flicked back to his, she saw he had already made his decision.
She turned, still holding his hand, and led
him into the house. She didn’t bother turning on lights since she
knew the twists and turns by heart already. Their silence stretched
out as she walked up the stairs with Hale close behind. He followed
her into her bedroom and closed the door.
He didn’t look at the sparse furnishings or
the cluttered floor brimming with video equipment, shoes, and
make-up. He watched her, his eyes shielded in the unlit room. The
only light to guide their hands as they came together next to the
bed was the moon shining over the ocean. Kyra kept the windows open
even at night so that the sounds of the waves could comfort her as
she slept, keeping away the nightmares she often had. Now the
breeze fluttered the lacy curtains so that the material brushed
across her bare calves.
Hale reached for her hips, skimming the
exposed skin above the waistband of her shorts with his calloused
fingers. One hand inched up her side, lifting her shirt, while the
other trailed up her back, fingers bumping along the notches of her
spine. She raised her arms so that he could pull off her shirt,
which he folded neatly and laid on the bedside table behind
her.
“Wait,” Kyra said as Hale reached for the
hem of his shirt. She squatted next to her laptop, her finger
flicking across the mouse pad. She found her favorite folk band and
pushed play. The male vocalist’s voice immediately crooned through
the speakers, filling the room with a haunting lilt that eased her
nerves. She stood up in front of Hale and noticed his questioning
stare. “Music calms me down.”
“You’re nervous?”
She looked up into his eyes as her hands
went to his stomach. She eased the hem of his shirt up, making his
jaw flex. “Yes,” she whispered.
He was too tall for her to take his shirt
off, but he finished the task for her. She noticed he threw his
shirt to the floor, unlike he’d done with hers. For the first time,
she was close enough to his bare chest to see his tattoos.
Kyra traced her finger over the ink of his
chest piece. Traditional roses spanned across his chest, all in
black and gray. Even their leaves and stems were intricately shaded
down to the smallest area. The artwork was impeccable and took her
breath away. Over his heart was one word.
Momma
. The detail
must have been excruciating, but she already knew he would’ve
handled it with a tight jaw and a stormy expression.
That’s who he was. Nothing else. No
pretending. It’s why she liked him so much.
He eased down the zipper of her shorts and
rocked the tight denim material over her hips. She shimmied out of
them, letting them fall to her ankles, ready to kick them away,
when he knelt down and picked them up. Like he’d done her shirt, he
folded the shorts neatly and put them on top of the nightstand.
He went to unbutton his pants, but she
pulled his hands away. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tugged
his button undone. She was close enough to him that when she
unzipped his pants, she heard the hiss of air he released. His
breath tickled down the side of her neck, but still he didn’t kiss
her.
He kicked off his jeans and stood before her
in just his briefs. He looked etched in stone, as if he was an
ancient creature with all his life’s secrets marked across his
skin. Kyra blinked to keep the sheen of tears at bay. She didn’t
know why she was getting emotional, other than the fact that she
was about to lose her virginity. But that wasn’t it either, she
knew. She was emotional because of the man standing before her. He
was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and that was before
she’d even noticed his looks.
She reached up and slipped the straps of her
bra over her shoulders. Her eyes never left Hale’s. She unhooked it
and let it fall to the floor before she hooked her thumbs in the
delicate lace of her panties and eased them down.
She’d imagined he’d stripped her down
completely before with just his words, but now she stood before him
truly naked. With a steady, quiet calmness, he looked at every part
of her before he picked up her underwear and folded them
delicately, as if he had all the time in the world. He sat them on
top of her shirt and shorts.
Finally, his hands found her hips and pushed
her gently back onto the bed. Kyra lay beneath him, feeling the
tiniest suggestion of his weight on top of her. Then he was kissing
her, his lips and tongue gliding across her skin. Her hands wove up
his flexed arms and onto his back. She opened her legs beneath him
so that he fit between her. The breeze from the window whisked
across her fevered skin and along her exposed sex.
Hale rose above her and tugged off his
briefs. It was the first look she’d gotten of his cock, and the
sight made her breath hitch. His length bowed up, rigid and ready.
She began to tremble as the ache built within her. Above her, he
licked the tips of his fingers before he stroked them between her
folds. She arched off the bed and moaned, close already. When he
pushed his fingers inside, heat pulsed through her body as she
came, rocking his fingers deeper inside her.
Her orgasm was waves of heat, echoing the
ocean’s waves outside. She was as useless against her climax as the
beach was against the water. Only when she could breathe normally
again did she open her eyes and see him watching her, his nostrils
wide and his eyes narrowed.
She’d never been with someone this way. Not
like this. She’d never done anything like this.
Once she was soaked enough for Hale’s taste,
he leaned back over her. He hooked her leg over his hip and wrapped
an arm around her neck. She felt every inch of his skin against
hers. It was as though every part of her, inside and out, was laid
out before him. He pulled her apart piece by piece, but she’d never
felt so whole.
Then he entered her, and all Kyra felt was
pain.
She gasped and jerked away, ripping him out
of her. She moaned and reached down between her legs as Hale reared
up above her. His mouth was a snarl as she pulled her hand back to
see a tiny splotch of blood across her palm.
“You’re a fucking virgin?”
fifteen
H
ale left while
Kyra stayed in bed. To say he was pissed was an understatement, but
she was angry too. He hadn’t exactly given her the chance to tell
him that she hadn’t been with anyone before. Of course, she hadn’t
made the time either. She could’ve told him earlier, at Stevie’s
house. Technically, there were plenty of opportunities while they
were undressing each other.
She groaned and rolled over, burying her
face in her pillow. She hadn’t wanted to tell him, and that’s why
he was mad. Not because she was a virgin, but because she wasn’t
honest with him, even after he had insisted on it. But she didn’t
like people knowing a lot about her. It wasn’t so bad that she was
uncomfortable baring her soul to others.
With a huff, Kyra sat up in bed. She wasn’t
going to let herself wallow or go to some dark place. She stood and
scooped up the first bathing suit she found. Moments later, she was
out the back door and grabbing her surfboard.
The moon was bright over the ocean. The surf
was down, but just being in the water was enough for her tonight.
She just needed to feel it. Her toes sank into the sand while the
rough grit of her board scratched against her side.
Her hair was still down, and it twisted
around her face in the salty air. Kyra licked her lips to taste the
ocean’s balm on her skin. It was all comforting, but when the water
splashed against her skin, she unspooled.
She lay down on her board and paddled out.
There would be no surfing tonight. There wasn’t even that much of a
break to fight through. Kyra dove under just to immerse herself.
All the places Hale had scorched with his touch cooled instantly.
He slipped farther away as she paddled out. His rejection, his
anger, his judgment: All problems for the shore.
When her arms were tired, she sat up on her
board, letting her legs dangle into the water. She tilted her head
back and closed her eyes, letting her body bob and sway with the
current. Her house and the shore were distant things, and she felt
like the whole ocean was her barrier. Nothing could get to her out
here.
“Kyra!”
She gasped and looked around until she
realized the sound was Hale hollering from shore. He had one of her
larger boards under his arm, and he’d stripped down to his briefs
once again. Before she processed what he was doing, he was in the
water and paddling toward her.
As he drew closer, Kyra seriously considered
paddling away or splashing the water and throwing a fit, but that
would be ridiculous. The ocean wasn’t hers. He could come out here
if he wanted. On her board. She scowled.
“What the hell is your problem?” Hale
shouted when he was close enough.
“My problem?” Kyra yelled back. She lowered
her voice when his board bumped up against hers. “I don’t have a
problem. You’re the one coming out here yelling.”
His glare was on a whole new level tonight.
“Because you’re in the water at night!
“So?”
“It’s dangerous!”
“Look,” she said, her anger building, “I do
this all the time. You’re not going to tell me what I can and can’t
do.”
Hale snarled, his hand snaking out and
snagging her wrist in his tight grip. “If you’re putting your life
in danger on purpose, I
will
tell you what to do.”
She jerked her hand away, which made them
both jostle around on top of their boards. “No. You. Won’t. I make
my own choices around here. Why are you freaking out so much?”
“You really think that I care so little for
you that I wouldn’t be upset?” His voice had the tiniest tremor of
hurt in it. For Hale, that spoke volumes on its own, and Kyra
finally put the pieces together.
Her anger fell away. “Did you think I was
going to drown myself?” Chill bumps spread along her arms, and
suddenly she was cold—too cold.
He noticed. With his expression softer, he
said, “What am I supposed to think?”
Kyra looked down and shook her head. She
traced the scratch along her board where she’d tanked one day in
California and her board had raked across the reef just feet below
the surf. It had banged up her knee pretty good too. She shook her
head again, trying to focus her thoughts.
“I come out here to feel better, Hale. I
wouldn’t drown myself. Is that really what you think of me?”
“I didn’t—”
“What? You didn’t know? Are you going to get
mad at me for not telling you that too? Listen here.” She narrowed
her eyes at him. “If I were going to drown myself, which I’m not,
it wouldn’t be because of some silly fight with a stupid boy.”
His eyebrows rose. For once, he looked
speechless. She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she reached
over and flipped his board. He tumbled into the water with a yelp
and soft splash. Kyra bent back over her board and paddled to
shore, letting the tiny waves pull her in. Maybe she was petty, but
it felt good to hear him sputtering and spewing water behind
her.
“He deserved it,” she said quietly to
herself.
She reached the shore well before he did,
and she carefully placed her board back in the rack before she went
inside. Locking the doors behind her would probably only stop him
for a minute. Rubbing her hand across her face, she thought about
what Hale was going to say to her now.