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Authors: Christine Brae

His Wounded Light (12 page)

BOOK: His Wounded Light
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We pull into the driveway of the beach house shortly after lunch; we can see the children running around the garden in the back. Isa and her sisters had this house built to honor their promise to their mother; it’s beautiful and built on an incline that slopes downwards towards the beach. There are two other cars in the driveway so I know that the Taylors are here as well as Ali and her family. We leave our bags in the trunk and cut through the side of the house towards the pool, following the music and laughter and loud children’s voices.

“Da-da, Ma-ma!” Maddy is shuffling her feet in her walker, stumbling towards us, and I run to catch her, afraid she might fall on the marble floor. I know that a walker is basically “fall safe,” but I worry about it anyway.

“Hi, my beautiful girl!” Isa rushes up to us and gives her a hug.

Maddy squeaks and reaches out for her. She points to Eddie who’s in the pool. “Ku-ku!”

“Hi, Eddie!” Isa waves to our son, who’s too busy playing with his cousins to come out to greet us.

Isa’s younger sister, Ali, and her husband, Rafael, as well as Betty and Leigh, are seated around a glass patio table. We move around the table, greeting everyone.

“Welcome, honeymooners!” Ali breaks out.

Leigh gets up with an empty bottle of beer in his hand. “Dude, you’ve got to try this pale ale I brought.”

“Let me go check out your brew,” I say as I pull out a chair for my wife, who holds a squirming Maddy on her lap. “Baby, what would you like to drink?”

“Go ahead with Leigh, I’ll ask the maid to get me some water.” She’s in a hurry to get back to her friend and her sister.

Feeling awkward as the only bro sitting at the table, Rafael jumps into the pool with the kids. We end up checking Leigh’s new car out in the driveway. It’s a GT2 just like my new one. Black for him. I check out the interior of the car while Leigh stands by the open car door like a proud papa.

“Did you tell her, man?”

“Yeah, what a clusterfuck. We’re not going there right now. She’s highly emotional and I’m not going to stress her out about it.”

“I could probably find a dealer that will buy it back.”

“Oh! No, man, I’m keeping it. We’re just going to have to drive up here more often.” The beach house is in a secluded area of a northern province with miles and miles of barely-traveled one-way roads. Perfect for a little racing.

“So sorry about that, man,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.

Leigh is sincerely feeling sad for me, and for himself, I imagine, as we had always wanted to indulge in this together. I have to admit, I’m disappointed too. I don’t say another word about it while we walk back into the house.

The rest of the evening is spent with the children—playing games, going crabbing on the beach, playing touch football in the sand—all while the women sit on blankets, watching us run around like idiots. Maddy is playing with her sand toys right by Isabel’s foot. Isabel and I agreed not to tell anyone about the news of her pregnancy just yet. She’s only eight weeks along and it’s tradition to only announce a baby at the end of the first trimester. Every once in a while I pause to look at her, entrenched in some serious conversation with the other women. They’re laughing softly, but Isa’s look turns thoughtful and solemn every so often.

The night flies by in a whirlwind of activities. When the kids are urged to take showers and get ready for bed by their respective nannies, the six of us find ourselves huddled under a coconut tree, engrossed in easy conversation. Ali is telling us about their older sister, Evie’s, latest foray into the repertory theater—she actually has an audition this weekend, which is why she couldn’t make it. Lee and I are talking about our nine am dive tomorrow morning and he’s interested to see the new mask and suit I bought while we were in Hong Kong. Isabel is advising Betty about a new tax pronouncement that was issued regarding foreign based income.

We’re all coupled up in pairs—I’m leaning on the tree with my knees up and Isabel is saddled between my legs, resting on my chest. While I listen to the sweet sound of her voice and feel the weight of her body on me, I’m once again struck with desire for her. I want her. Now. I want her when we’re alone. I want her when we’re not. There’s this constant need for me to be inside her; seeing her interact with people turns me on. I fall in love with her more and more when I see her with the children. I get horny when I hear her go on and on about business. It kills me when I see tears in her eyes and I die with every sob that stems from her heart. This woman is the core of my existence. Yesterday, I found out that I was her life. To be loved as much as she loves me—there are no words to describe how lucky I feel.

The naughty little nymph senses my desire and plays it up by rubbing herself against me. I take this as a lead into breaking up the conversation for the evening. “Babe, you look tired,” I say in front of the rest of the group. “Maybe we should go upstairs and get ready for bed?”

“Nope,” she says as she aggravatingly presses harder into me. “I’m good.”

You’re going to pay for this, you tease.

Minutes later, it’s Ali that breaks up the group. She’s heading home in the morning before everyone else. Our dive session will last a few hours, so we plan on leaving with the Taylors later on in the afternoon. As soon as we get up to trek back to the house, Isabel breaks into a giggle and runs as fast as she can inside.

“What’s up with her?” Betty asks as Leigh takes her hand to steady her steps. Someone’s had a little too much to drink.

I shrug my shoulders and continue trudging through the sand.

The house is a split level with four bedrooms on the upper level and two children’s rooms on the lower. Each bedroom has been assigned to one family—the sisters got to choose their room’s location as the architect was drawing up the plans. Isa and I have the room farthest down the hall, overlooking the sea, with ceiling to floor windows and transparently tinted shades. Eddie and the older cousins are sharing a bedroom while Maddy and Pauline are in the designated baby room. I start to panic when I enter the bedroom and she’s not there. Then I notice that the lights are dimmed around the room and lit candles are sprinkled all over the seating area. I make my way to the bathroom and find that it is locked.

“Isa?” I knock softly. “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m not!” Her tone is light and airy. “I’ll be right out!”

I move about the room and undress myself as she peeks her head out the door.

“Is Eddie here?” she asks, batting her eyelashes invitingly.

“No, he’s sleeping downstairs with Chelsea and Chris.”

“Good.”

She swings the door wide open and I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. She looks like an angel in a white lace top that I swear I can see her soul in and matching lace panties. And her face. She’s got her straight brown hair tied up in a bun with two swirly curl things cascading downwards, framing her jawline. No makeup, just very red, very hot lipstick.

“I have to talk to you.” She glides over to me and pushes me on the bed.

“Talk? I don’t want to talk,” I protest, trying to grab hold of her hips.

She straddles me and grinds herself against me, bending down so I can see her in all her glory as she tantalizes me with those red lips. She kisses me hungrily, smearing the red lipstick all over me. When she pulls away, I try to keep her down but she stops me and laughs. She takes her thumbs and wipes the red marks off my mouth. “Sorry!”

“Why are you sorry? Come here, kiss me some more.”

“No. A, wait, I have something for you.” Every outfit she wears is always too small for her full breasts. This one’s no different. As soon as she bends down, I can see them dying to spring out of their constricting material. She starts giggling. “No, there’s something in there. You’re supposed to pull it out
.”

I’m confused as hell.
Well, my brain is no longer working and she wants me to figure stuff out?

“Oh,” I say as I pull her straps down. A small piece of paper falls out of her deep, lovely cleavage.

“Open it,” she commands.

I unfold the slip of paper and read it:

 

 

I am speechless for what feels like an entire minute.

“Ha!” I finally exclaim. “Thank you,” I whisper. “What happened? Why did you change your mind?”

She slowly pushes me down on the bed, spreading my arms and holding them down. She trails her lips down my chest, to my stomach, to my thighs, pausing as she plants little kisses along the way. “Because.” Kiss. “You only live once.” Kiss. “And I want you to really live. Without fear.” Kiss. “Without worries.” Kiss. “I want you to be happy.”

She takes me into her mouth. First the tip, then working her way down until I can feel the back of her silky throat. She’s sure had a lot of practice; it seems like she gets better and better each time. She lets out a moan and angles her head to look up at me.

“I am happy. Even without this,” I rasp, though I hold her head to me as I pump myself inside her mouth. I can’t help but groan. I’m at a loss for coherency. Her lips, her mouth, her hands are all over me.

“Live your life and I’ll be waiting for you at the end of every day. You can count on that.” She brings her head up as she speaks and there are tears in her eyes.

I lift her up by the shoulders and bring her back up to my face. “Oh, baby. Come here for a minute.” I sit up and arrange her on my lap, facing me. We embrace and hold each other for a long time, her breasts pressed against my chest and her legs wrapped around my waist. I take her face and hold it close, so that our foreheads and noses are touching. She’s first to break the silence. I know she wants to lighten up our mood.

“So, pretend you just finished a few laps and now you have to do number three,” she mutters, her voice low and sexy.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I position her slightly above me and slip so easily into her. She’s always ready for me. There’s never a time that she isn’t. She moves up and down and back and forth and the friction is driving me crazy. She leans back and rests against her hands on the bed, making it easy for me to thrust in and out of her.

“Oh, God, you feel so good, Alex. I’m so close. I’m gonna...ahh—Alex!” she howls as I feel her contract and squeeze me tighter. Seconds later, she collects herself. “Don’t come yet,” she demands as she eases me out and creeps up the bed to grab a condom from the drawer. She unwraps it expertly and rolls it down my...well, on me.

“You want it nice and tight, baby?” she asks as she straddles me once again. She rubs some lubricant on me and I do the same for her with my finger. She guides me to her other entrance, controlling how much of me she takes in, easing me slowly, carefully inside until I stretch her to the max, filling her completely. She starts to move up and down, the sensation is so intense I don’t know how long I can last.

“Oh Isa, yes, I can really feel you around me.”

She picks up the speed of her movement, the sound coming from her throat primal and raw. “Come for me, Alex. I want all of you.”

That’s all I need to hear before I go cross-eyed and explode in a million fucking pieces. I come so hard and so much that I’m still pulsating as she rips off the condom, falls onto her back, and takes the rest of my release in her. I fall asleep right where I am, my head on her shoulder, my body inside her, my heart and soul in her hands.

BOOK: His Wounded Light
9.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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