“I’m
sorry,” Jason said with empathy from the other side of the massive hot tub.
“Yeah
well, I’m grateful my mom had the courage to get us kids out of an unsafe home.
She said she’d never wanted to get a divorce, because she believes marriage
should be forever, but she decided our safety was her first priority.”
“She
sounds like a remarkable woman, Alex.”
“Yeah,
she is,” I said, suddenly feeling very hot. Pulling myself out of the water, I
sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi. I knew Jason couldn’t really see me, so I felt
more at ease. “Anyways, she told him that if he would seek treatment – go in
for drug and alcohol rehabilitation she’d agree to let him see us. He flat out
refused. So she told him that if he would sign over all parental rights, she
would never ask for a dime in child support, but he’d never be allowed to see
us again. He agreed to that,” I said this with disgust and smacked my hands
against my wet legs.
“Wow,”
he said quietly.
Staring
into the water, I said, “When someone’s life is so completely controlled and
consumed by drugs or alcohol that they’ll give up their children all together –
that is sad. To me it’s inconceivable and unforgivable. I never want to be that
person.” Finishing my soliloquy, I slipped back down into the rolling water and
let the turbo jets perform a little hydrotherapy on my body again.
Narrowing
the gap between us, Jason came sliding towards me. He stopped once he was about
a foot away and said firmly, “Alex, you could never be that kind of person.”
My
nose twitched from the slightly over-chlorinated water. “I know.” Coughing, I
cleared my throat and added, “And now you know why I’ve made a personal choice
not to drink either. Having complete control over my thoughts, my feelings, and
my actions is paramount to me. I don’t want alcohol compromising my thinking or
altering my perceptions, making me do something I’ll regret later.”
His
head bobbed in understanding, and he started to reach his hand out like he was
going to comfort me but at the last second snatched it back and whacked the
outer edge of the hot tub with a loud “splat.” A moment later, in a soothing
voice he said, “I respect your decisions and your reasons Alex. I know there’s
a lot of peer pressure, and it’s awesome you’re convictions and self-esteem are
strong enough that you can stand by your decisions.”
“Thanks,”
I said. “I’m not saying I don’t go to parties, because I do. But when I’m with
my friends who choose to drink, I just take on the role of designated driver
and try to look out for them and any acts of stupidity they might get
themselves into. Friends do need a…a Guardian around,” I giggled at my choice
of words, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m fortunate my mom found Dr. Adams.
She loves him, and so do I. He’s taken good care of us, and he’s loved Greg and
me like we were his own. He’s been a good dad.”
“Hopefully
you’ll introduce me sometime.”
“Sure.”
“I’m
glad you told me,” he said.
“Feels
good to talk about it once in awhile. Thanks for listening.” We chatted a bit longer,
mostly about his grandmother’s awesome quilts and his mom’s love of pressing
flowers. Soon afterwards we vacated the hot tub. Wrapped in warm, terry cloth
robes we headed towards our rooms. On our way past the kitchen, I said, “So,
everyone starts arriving tomorrow?”
He
looked at me and said, “Yep, I’ll take the yacht back to the marina tomorrow
evening and pick them up. You can either come with me or hang out here and
enjoy your last few hours of peaceful solitude.”
“I’ll
think about it and let you know,” I said in a subdued tone.
As I
opened my bedroom door, I called after him, “Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks
for a fun and relaxing week. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend it with.”
“Same
back at ya.” And with that, he disappeared into the shadows.
After
an early walk in surprisingly hot and humid conditions Friday morning, I
grabbed a shower. I scrunched my hair with a towel, because I knew it would air
dry with more distinctive curls that way. I slipped into black shorts and
double tank tops, with a white one underneath the bright fuchsia one. Walking
barefoot out to the Centrum, as I liked to call it, I placed my i-Pod on the
docking station, turned the surround sound up a bit higher and proceeded to the
kitchen where I popped a piece of cinnamon bread into the toaster.
I
hummed along with the tune as the deep, husky voice of Nickelback’s lead singer
belted out the lyrics to
Gotta Be Somebody.
The arcing, melodic ebb and
beat of the drums pounded through the kitchen. Realizing I’d forgotten to put
in earrings, I started back down the hall towards my room when Jason appeared
suddenly from the bathroom on my left.
We
both stopped in surprise and stared at each other, but my jaw was the one that
dropped to the floor. Half naked, he stood before me wearing only a pair of
faded Levis. In one hand he grasped a white towel, while the other played
nervously with his wet hair. Still glistening wet, he was drop-dead gorgeous.
My eyes traveled from his bare feet up to the waistband of his jeans, where I
determined he was definitely a briefs kind of guy. A navy, elastic band rose
slightly above his jeans, and it looked like the tips of the white letters
formed the word
Jockey
.
“Hi,” I
said breathlessly, but my eyes didn’t reach his face. I’d never really seen him
in the light of day without a shirt on, and it was impossible to look away from
his chiseled chest. The narrow band of chest hair that extended down and
lightly encircled his belly button was extremely sexy. Even the recent battle
marks on his skin seemed masculine, making him that much more attractive.
Gazing at his upper body almost sent me over the edge.
“Um…hi,”
he said hesitantly, heaving his broad shoulders. As the muscles in his
impressive biceps tightened, I tried not to swoon.
Taking
a step closer, I bravely reached out and slowly ran my fingertips across one of
the longer wounds. He jerked, and I heard him catch his breath. As if
frightened, he moved backwards until he was leaning against the wall. At long
last, I looked up and gazed into his aqua-marine eyes. He remained poised, but
his jagged breaths continued. With our eyes locked, I reached my other hand up
and placed it flat against his chest. Arching an eyebrow, I dared him to
rebuke.
Without
uttering a word, he watched me carefully. Tiny muscles in his cheeks and along
his temples pulsated repeatedly and his jaw clenched.
Breaking
the silence, I said, “I wish I could take these away. Do they hurt?”
“Not
at the moment,” he said hoarsely, as I ran one hand along his abs. His
partially healed lacerations were rough and looked tender, so I was careful not
to press hard. Biting my lower lip nervously, I continued to slide my hand all
the way up his firm chest and over his broad shoulders. I allowed my hand to
linger on his right shoulder and traced the outline of a small tattoo with my
index finger as I peered at it curiously. The symbol was similar in shape to
the ankh on my ring, except the lower section came down and divided into two
angled lines rather than one single straight one.
“What
does this stand for?”
In a
low voice he said, “That’s the Egyptian hieroglyph
Sa
. It’s a sign for
protection.”
“Oh,”
I said and traced over it again. “When did you get it?”
“After
I became a Guardian. Most Guardians get one.”
“Even
women?”
“Yes;
although, they usually have it placed on the small of the back or on an ankle.”
“Interesting,”
I said, shifting my gaze to his face. With his hands against the wall and his
head tilted back, he seemed to be bracing himself for an assault, and all the
while his eyes watched me like a hawk. Standing directly in front of him again,
I placed both hands flat against his chest and leaned forward until my forehead
rested against his body. Comfortable, and enjoying his Essence, I slid one hand
upwards and toyed with the silver chain hanging around his neck. I listened as
he took deep, rapid breaths; my face moved in accordance with his expanding
chest.
“Is my
touch hurting you at all?” I asked anxiously. The Black Eyed Peas disco-based
beat in the hit song
Meet me Halfway
was pounding hypnotically from the
Centrum, and Fergie’s emotional but confident vocals were pouring through the
house.
“No,”
he uttered in a voice barely audible.
I closed
my eyes, turned my face and relaxed my cheek against his smooth, bronze skin.
Taking my time, I enjoyed the warmth of his body and inhaled his clean, fresh
scent. Sweet and bold. Irish Spring maybe? Whatever it was, he was
intoxicating. I could feel his heart pounding right against my ear. Strong and
swift, just like mine, only the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering out
of control.
“How
does it feel?” I prompted.
“What?”
he choked.
“My
touch,” I clarified.
“Overwhelming,”
he said after several moments, and I could feel his Adam’s apple shift as he
swallowed hard.
“You
feel solid and sturdy, and I feel safe when I’m with you.” I breathed. I wanted
him to know…I needed him to understand the depth of my feelings. No matter how
wrong it was, they were strong and they were real, and I couldn’t turn back. I
wouldn’t turn back and pretend they didn’t exist. With determination I turned
my head until my lips grazed against his skin, and then I gently pressed them
into his chest.
“Alex…”
he cautioned and shivered behind my lips. I heard the towel in his hand brush
along the wall and fall to the floor.
With
my heart pounding profusely and my emotions swirling out of control, I tilted
my face upwards and kissed the huge, ugly mark on his neck. His body jolted and
his hands must have moved a few inches away from the wall, because suddenly I
heard them slap the wall forcefully.
“Alex…”
he warned again in a desperate voice. But his tone no longer packed the
necessary punch to be effective.
The
Black Eyed Peas song ended and the soft melody of Martina McBride’s rich,
elegant voice drifted down the hallway as she sang her song
How I Feel
.
The lyrics of the slower, romantic song hit me with full force, and my hands
instinctively moved up to Jason’s shoulders where I tightened my grip. I
listened intently as she sang:“
Confetti fallin’ from the sky/ My hometown on
the 4
th
of July/ A midnight snow on Christmas Eve/ Like standin’ up
for what you believe/ That’s how I feel when I’m with you/ That’s how I feel
when I’m with you/ That’s how I feel/ That’s how I feel when I’m with you./”
Expressively,
I gazed into his beautiful eyes and said in quiet earnest, “This song describes
how the simple things in life bring us happiness, and it compares them to the
feelings we have for someone we care about.” Standing on my tiptoes, I cupped
his chin. Controlling him with my fingertips, I tipped his face down towards
mine. His eyes widened, and he groaned. My emotions were telling me to seize
the moment, and I listened.
Swiftly,
I tilted my head sideways and pressed my lips against his. My eyes naturally
shuttered closed, and I kissed him cautiously, not wanting to scare him away.
His lips were velvety soft and moist. I pressed a little harder until his lips
parted. With deliberate care I delved deeper and explored with slow
appreciation until at long last, I found his tongue. Sweet, spearmint flavors
still lingered from his toothpaste. Without words, I prodded and encouraged him
with my tongue, a silent yet forceful solicitation which begged for his
response.
When
he finally reacted it was with such intensity and fervor, I almost lost my
balance. Heat ripped through my body, and this time I felt like I was the one
on fire. His unexpected assertiveness further fueled my own passion. I wrapped
my hands around the back of his head, burying my hands in his hair. I leaned
even further into him, and kissed him deeper and more completely than I’d ever
kissed anyone before.
I
poured my heart and soul into that kiss. Fireworks might have been exploding
around us, but I wouldn’t have known. Already lost in the heavens – a part of
some incredible celestial event, I felt like we were blazing across the sky in
our own meteor shower. For several seconds our tongues searched and discovered.
Unable to control myself, I ran my hands over his shoulders and dug my fingers
into his back. At length, our mouths closed once again, but our lips continued
to brush roughly and heatedly together. When our mouths opened a second time,
his tongue found mine and we delved deeper into a passionate, smoldering kiss.
Completely
entranced, I felt weak in the knees and my whole body shook with need. I wanted
him to hold me with his arms around me as he plundered like I was the long lost
treasure he’d been searching for his entire life. But more importantly, I
wanted him to need me as much as I needed him. He might not know it, but his
heart belonged to me.
Suddenly,
my mouth felt like it was on fire. Jason groaned and his head snapped up,
forcing me away. Quivering with desire, I looked at him in quiet disbelief. His
return gaze was one of shock and alarm.
With
his breathing uneven, he said in a faltering voice, “Damn! What were
you—No…What was I thinking?”
“Thinking,”
I exclaimed. “Who had time to think?” I brushed the sides of my cheeks. “What
happened?” I demanded. “You said my touch wasn’t hurting you.”
“What?”
“You
heard me,” I said forcefully, feeling the heat rushing to my face as tears
gathered in my eyes.
He
held his head between his hands. “Your touch wasn’t hurting me – at first. But
when I started to re…my God, I can’t believe I responded,” he said angrily to
himself and hit the wall behind him with his fist. Inadvertently, I jumped. A
little scared of his sudden temper, I watched him tearfully, my lips trembling.
Meeting my eyes again, his expression softened. “I didn’t mean to scare you
Alex. I shouldn’t have let…when I continued kissing you back that’s when I felt
the burn. Your natural, Amethyst defense kicked in, and I got the painful,
burning sensation.”