To Catch a Falling Star (35 page)

“Of all flowers, why is chamomile your favorite?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“A flower’s value is entirely in its beauty. I imagine being beautiful is a tremendous job. But in addition to its natural beauty, chamomile provides fragrance, oils, medicine, and tea.”

“Makes sense that you would like a flower for those reasons.” He chuckles.

“Why are you always going commando?” I ask.

“It’s easier to…”

I look up with a frown.

“No, just kidding. I like the freedom of it. It’s personal and I get to control it.”

“What was the point when you drove your Bugatti into the pool?” I ask.

“That I could drive a straight line.” He grins. “Spend the night with me, here on the ocean, just the two of us?” he asks.

“Mmm-hmm,” I answer.

My hands trace the muscles of his biceps. I feel a square patch under his shirt.

“What is this?” I stroke it.

“A nicotine patch,” he says.

I look in his silver eyes. Unfathomable emotions cross his face. I want to understand them, but I veto my need to rationalize this moment.

Tarry arms tighten their hold on my waist. I lean my head on his chest and think of my stupid natural tendency to never be fully present and always trying to move to the next thing, fulfill my duties, be efficient, be conscious, and be responsible. All of which hinders me from wholly embracing the here and now.

Silently, we swing our hips to the rhythm of countless songs. His long hands cradle my face. “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Frankie Valli croons and Tarry stops dancing. The lyrics swirl around us creating a texture I want to etch in my memory.

Tarry’s lips seize mine. Breathlessly, he tears his mouth from me and murmurs, “I am bewitched by you, Melody.”

My core cries out, demanding me to tell him that I’m not bewitched, but in love. Tonight I won’t say anything. But I’ll love him with every part of my being.

Tarry gathers me in his arms and carries me to a bedroom. The same candlelight glimmers inside the room and the same music flows, but the chamomile scent is intensified. His face is serious and determined. He emanates an animalistic sensuality.

I examine the luxurious room. The furniture is the same mahogany of the previous room with tons of coral and pastel beige. But what catches my attention are the dozens of chamomile bouquets throughout the room and covering the bed.

Silently, he puts me down and unfastens the zipper on my dress. With slow tantalizing fingers, he slides the dress off me, letting it pool at my feet.

Tarry’s breath catches and his eyes turn into a tempestuous shade of gray.

“Goddamnit, Mel.” His hand sprawls on either side of my corseted waist. His eyes fix on the generous swell of my breasts spilling over the lingerie. The ever-poignant presence always deep in his eyes vanishes and desire replaces it.

During the past week, I have endeavored to learn to read Tarry inside the bedroom. He is unpredictable, but I recognize this look. It is a silent desperation, which he is so good at containing.

My inside clenches, my head swoons. Desire, hot as lava, courses through my veins. I moan. Tarry kisses me slowly and passionately. My legs are like two puddles of Jell-O. Tarry cocks his head and the sides of his lips curve into a sensual smile. The smartass knows what he does to me.

“Where do you want my cock, Melody?”

“Inside me, deep inside me,” I moan, grasping his shoulder.

“So fucking beautiful.” His calloused index finger slides lightly across the corset rim along my chest. A shudder travels my body.

“Now, please…” My voice trails off as his lips hungrily capture mine.

Panting, I grasp his shoulder tightly as his tongue joins mine in an erotic dance.

Tarry lowers me on the bed of chamomile flowers. The smell is intoxicating and so touching, it brings tears to my eyes.

I lay on my back. Tarry holds a flower between his long fingers. He glides the flower with a light touch along my hairline, my temple, my eyelids, and my mouth. A soothing adagio fills the room with the harmonic sound of instruments. Under his tantalizing touch, my own body hums much like an orchestra.

With my eyes closed and my senses tuned to Tarry’s hands, I will my trembling body to be still. But my flesh cries and demands him to take me. Tarry’s breath tickles my skin when he kisses behind my ear. His tongue strokes my earlobe as he whispers, “I want to be inside you, Melody. I want to hear the sounds you make when you are under me. It’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.” His hot breath sends me into a frenzy.

I grab his hand and with movements I’ve practiced thousands of times with Lucas, I have him on his back. I straddle him.

He grins. The bastard. He knows what he’s doing. He enticed me to act like this, such a smartass. I gleefully played my role in his game. With trembling fingers, I hastily open his shirt and pull it open. He lifts his hip as I clumsily remove his pants.

Astride him, I admire his beautiful face and tattooed chest. He is so out of my league. I see a reflection of desire and my need of him, but I know better than to believe I am the only recipient of those delicious words and desperate stare.

Pushing the crude realization aside, I trace the chiseled muscles of his chest and arms. I lean in and kiss the patch on his biceps. I might be fooling myself, but I want to believe he wants to quit because of me.

He glances at me, his hands on my thighs. “You look like a nymph I could stare at you on top of me for the remainder of my life and not have a fill of your sweet and intoxicating beauty. But tonight, baby, I’m going to take you under me.”

He grabs my waist and tosses me on the bed. His strong and lean body pins me against the soft petals of the flowers. I brush the hair falling on his face and tuck it behind his ear. I want to profess my love. But I can’t.

Tarry’s fingers deftly peel the lingerie off me. “Suspicious Minds” plays as Tarry hovers on top of me. His eyes are piercing. He kisses me deeply, and his fingers search for my core. He slips two fingers inside me. “So wet, so ready for my cock,” he growls.

Tarry hooks each of my legs in the crook of his elbows and his hands form vises around my wrists. I’m exposed and vulnerable. My chest rises and lowers with the expectation of the feel of him. Without foreplay, he penetrates me. I cry out with the welcomed assault.

“Did I hurt you?” He is still.

“Oh, it hurts so good…” I try to grind against his masculinity, but he has me pinned.

Tarry eases out of me slowly, just to thrust again, hard and deep. I croak out another cry.

“This is my new addiction.” He rolls his hips slowly sending a wave pleasure traveling through my body. “Being inside you is the best high I’ve ever had.” Another sharp thrust. “I want to be here forever, Melody.” His brows knit together. “Tell me you’re never going to let anyone else here, where I belong,” he demands. There is such desperation in Tarry’s voice.

“Only you, baby,” I cry during another thrust. Each thrust carries anguish; it feels as if he is trying to brand the inside of me.

“Say my name,” he commands and slams into me.

“Only you, Tarry,” I cry. The pressure building at my core aches desperately for release.

Tarry rolls his hips languidly. I close my eyes.

“Look at me, Melody.” He thrusts again. My entire body aches and cries. I can’t take it anymore. The buildup between my legs has me dizzy.

I look inside his beautiful eyes. Tarry is so intent. I’ve never seen him this intense. I feel as though I’m the only person that exists in the galaxy. Tarry quickens the pace and starts to pound me rapidly. He is forceful, demanding, and rough. However, I feel… loved. And I want more of it.

“Come for me, Melody,” he demands through clenched teeth as he thrusts faster and deeper. My body trembles, every part of my being focus on the man on top of me, in me. I’m forever more in love with him, lost to anyone else, and lost to my own self. I belong to him, now and into eternity. With that realization, I moan loudly as release finds me.

Tarry’s mouth captures mine as he continues to pound inside me. My sensitive clit cries in agony. I try to free my legs. But Tarry tightens his grip.

“I want to hear you again, love,” he says between moans and groans. I feel the tension building again as my entire body comes alive to him. I don’t believe I can orgasm again, but my body tells me otherwise.

“Oh, Tarry.” I pant as another wave of orgasm hits me.

“That’s right, baby. Come for me again,” he says as he moves roughly and faster inside me. I moan loudly as my body falls in a spiral of pleasure. Before I can relax from the relief, he slams sharply against me. He looks down at me. His eyes are blazing with potent lust and possessive agony. The muscles in my core tighten and I feel the primal surge of a third orgasm.

A cry escapes my throat. My guttural voice is unrecognizable. I fall hard, weightless into an abyss of feelings and pleasure, of desire and undiluted love. Tarry’s body tenses and he, too, comes undone, growling, and moaning in my ear. He sinks inside me, and I feel his seed warm and ticklish at the core of my being. My body sated, and satisfied, goes limp. I feel like putty.

Tarry releases my hands and legs. He rolls to his back and pulls my languid body in a tight embrace. His arms are a vise around me. He buries his face in the crook of my neck. With our bodies intertwined, we delight in the afterglow of our mating. The scent of the chamomile permeates the air. Petals of chamomile cling to his sweaty chest. It’s a beautiful sight to see my bad boy, fully tattooed, with delicate flowers clinging to his skin. I secretly think this is me branding him. The thread is weak, oblique even, but it empowers me.

We remain entwined, our bodies slowly coming down from the high.

Tarry pulls the sheet from under us and covers our exhausted bodies. He pushes a button on a phone over the nightstand and says, “Please bring us the dessert.”

I seriously doubt I will have the energy to eat. I sigh deeply. My lids are getting heavy.

Sometime later, a small knock at the door awakens me. A uniformed server enters the room, sets a cart next to the bed, and leaves after nodding politely in our direction.

Tarry sits and settles me on his lap. His gets a chocolate covered strawberry and feeds me. I bite into the fruit and its juice squirts in my mouth and lips. Tarry licks the side of my mouth.

“Tastes so much better on you.”

My fingers clasp his hair, and I bring his mouth to mine. His growing erection against my thigh stirs my body and chases the sleepiness away. Desire courses through my body. I straddle him. Tarry’s eyes glint. “Aren’t we greedy tonight?”

I want to tell him that I love him. But the words are trapped inside my mouth. I want to tell him that I will never be fully satisfied, but I don’t. Instead, I kiss him and swirl my hips against his erection.

I guess I’m not the only greedy one.

PRIOR TO DAWN, I wake up surrounded by Tarry’s tall build. I peel his arm from my waist and slide away from his embrace. In the dark room, I stumble my way to the bathroom.

After I close the door, I pat the wall searching for the light switch. When light pours in, I marvel at the luxury of the gigantic room. Beige marble covers the walls of the European-styled bathroom. For a moment, I forget I’m on a boat. Well, it’s a yacht. I take a brief, hot shower and slip inside the comfortable and fluffy robe and matching sleepers I find by the sink. Tarry or someone from the crew thought of all details. With a bitter taste in my mouth, I wonder how many women Tarry has brought here.

I leave the bathroom and see Tarry remains in the land of dreams. My body tingles with the desire to wake him and make love. But I need to process the rhapsody of feelings reeling in my chest.

I pad out of the suite and across the living room. From a sofa, I retrieve a heavy blanket and I go in search of a deck. After walking through a maze of corridors and up some stairs, I find a door leading to a covered deck. I realize I’m at the top of the boat. I identify a lounge next to a hot tub and settle on it. With a glance at my watch, I notice it is still early, but the sun will rise in less than an hour. I wrap the blanket around me, and stare at the violet horizon. The water is a deep shade of taupe.

The emotions of last night overwhelm me. I never wanted to fall in love again. But to fall in love with someone like Tarry is the closest I’ve come to being a masochist.

I think back to the time I first met him. I never stood a chance. Tarry said once that he wanted me. He sure did persuade me. I don’t deny his obvious desire for me. I’m not naïve and I know he wants me. However, that’s what I should have kept in check. I’m a notch on his belt. When this is over and he overcomes his brokenness, he’ll go on his way and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart. Yet again.