The One That Got Away (3 page)

Oh, make no mistake, her phone rang off the hook these days; but with calls from bill collectors, not from boyfriends or potential employers.

“I really do need a day away.” Collapsing in the softness of her rose dream day bed, she curled up in the depths of its floral comforter and rested her head on a fluffy pillow. “I need to go find my happy place. Or at least maybe a place where the guys are hot and the beer is cold….”

On this last, downright poetic thought, she grinned in spite of herself and drifted to sleep.

* * * *

Midnight. Cecily bolted upright, eyes flying wide as her ears were assailed by a deep, keening wail. Likening the cry of a banshee, the unearthly sound rattled her bones and assailed her senses.

Oh, but the cry didn’t strike fear in her heart, as much as it made that heart pound with lust and sweet anticipation. Beads of sweat coursed Cecily’s brow as she rose to her feet, determined to find the source of the sound.

“It sounds like the cry of a lone male.” Like a stealthy cat, she scaled the darkness, leaping the distance between the daybed and her front door. Somehow, she knew she had no time to spare; whoever he was, he needed her now.

“And for a desperate sounding being who sounds downright surreal,” she trembled in spite of herself as she took swift steps across her doorstep into the dark of night. “He sounds passing hot.”

The wail only intensified as she slipped into her car, a Volkswagen bug whose ivory hood shone in the light of the moon. Turning on the overhead light she fumbled for her map; abandoning her efforts as an unbidden thought assailed her delicate psyche.

“I know where it is.” She shook her head, fishing in her purse for the crystal-hued key that would fuel and feed her journey. “I haven’t been to Port Emerald for 17 years, but I know how to get there. I know every twist and turn. I know it by heart.”

Then, with the help of a single deep breath, her heart drove her to Port Emerald.

* * * *

Two hours later, she knew only one thing.

“I, Cecily Brandon, am a complete and total idiot.” With a furious blush, she buried her head in the well-worn pages of a truck stop menu, slouching in the depths of a tattered booth cushion as the powerful tones of Aretha Franklin resounded from a nearby jukebox.

“You deserve all the R-E-S-P-E-C-T, Aretha.” She directed her next comments at the bronze-plated jukebox, which—fates be thanked—managed to drown out her confused words. “All I deserve is a one-way ticket to the looney bin.”

“You OK, Hon?” She jumped at the sound of a sharp Southern accent, one that attacked unexpected from the side of the table.

She forced a smile as she stared into the made up face of a pink-clad truck stop waitress, who met her gesture with a confused frown.

“Did you want something to eat?” She tapped her foot in what seemed to be a show of wary impatience.

Ignoring her question, Cecily posed one of her own.

“How far am I from Port Emerald?” She tilted her head. “About an hour and 15 minutes, I figure?”

The waitress sighed.

“Blazes I don’t know.” She shook her permed head. “I just moved here two weeks ago from Ken-tuck. Now do you want to order, Sweetie, or would you just like to continue royally freaking out everyone in the restaurant?”

Cecily guffawed outright.

“I do believe I’ll take Option B. I think it’s high time I freaked somebody out.” She stared briefly at the menu. “I’ll also take a double cheeseburger and a milkshake.”

The waitress regarded her a moment, then turned for the kitchen.

“Coming right up,” she snapped, adding more softly, “And come the end of my shift, I’m on the first bus back to Ken-tuck.”

Cecily giggled in spite of herself; then abruptly fell silent as the air was filled with a low, keening wail—a sound strikingly similar to the one that had launched this insane midnight journey.

“I need that order to go!” She jumped from her seat, making a mad rush for the door.

* * * *

3 a.m. found Cecily racing down the familiar sands of Port Emerald Beach, though this time she embarked on a rescue mission, not a vacation.

The swaying palms of the tropical beach glowed emerald in the moonlight; the same light that cast the sand beneath her in a cast of fine marble. Yet these surreal surroundings did not distract her from the purpose and goal at hand.

“He’s calling for me.” This singular, compelling thought stabbed the center of her sleep-deprived psyche. “He needs me. Only I can save him. Of course, I’ll be damned if I know exactly who ‘he’ is.”

Still she had a good idea; a concept confirmed seconds later, when she spotted the form of a muscular, golden man lying naked in the moonlight.

“Logan,” she breathed.

His long, cinnamon hued hair glowed golden bronze in the rays of a fertile moon. His dark eyes reflected the night itself, and his full, soft lips seemed drawn together in a firm pout. A pout that erupted to a full-fledged smile the moment he saw her.

“You did come!” Her beautiful host sprang to his feet, holding his arms open to her.

“Well how could I sleep with all that wailing going on?” A laughing Cecily flew into his
embrace, resting her exhausted body in his strong, tender arms. “I thought I’d better drive up here and investigate.” She drew back to stare into his wide, dark eyes. “And strangely enough, even after all this time, I know exactly who you are.” She cupped his carved cheeks, seeming to remember every angle of his gorgeous, flawless face. “Only I aged and you didn’t. Blast you.”

Logan guffawed outright.

“You still make me laugh.” He hugged her to him. “It’s so good to see you, Cecily.”

The two fell silent a moment, hands clasped between them as they shared a secret smile, not to mention a tidal wave of memories that left Cecily breathless. Suddenly she relived his kisses, she felt every touch, she experienced the sensation of their joined bodies as they made love in the sand.

“It’s so crazy,” she whispered. “We met once, and I’ve never forgotten you.”

“And how can I forget you,” Logan pulled her to him, burying his head in her neck, “when I don’t think I can live without you?”

“Wait, what? Hold up!” Jumping away from him, Cecily met his words with a confused frown. “Now we did have a beautiful afternoon, but it was a one night stand. One day stand, I mean. Whatever.”

Logan shook his head, keeping his hold on Cecily’s fingers.

“Mer mate for life, Cecily. We don’t have one night stands.” He ran a loving hand through her long dark hair. “You were the only land person who made me feel like a human being. And the only woman who made me feel like a man.” He charmed her with a brilliant smile. “That’s why I called out to you, Cecily. I’ve never met anyone like you.” He shrugged. “I just couldn’t be without you.”

Touched by his sentiment, Cecily wrapped her arms around Logan’s broad shoulders and kissed his beaming lips.

“Yeah, well, right back at ya.” She tweaked his nose. “I did, as you saw that day, break up with my jerky travel companion, and I’ve had one other boyfriend since who, very conveniently, left me four years ago.” She rested her head on his massive chest. “You’re the only lover I’ve had who made me feel beautiful and sexy. I hoped that one day I’d see you again.”

“Well here I am, Babe.” Sweeping her up in a tight embrace, Logan joined his lips to hers in a bold, impassioned kiss. His tongue flew inward to tangle with hers as his hands massaged and caressed her back, making her purr with contentment.

She sank in his arms as his lips rubbed hers, giving her the most tender of kisses.

Tender, but passionate.

“Care to come back to my place?” he whispered in her ear.

Cecily shrugged.

“Sure.” She tilted her head in a show of sheer wonder. “I’m just wondering exactly where my ‘place’ is. How is a ‘land lady’ or whatever the heck you call me supposed to make a home with a creature of the sea...”

He silenced her with the sweetest kiss she’d ever experienced.

“I’m a man, Cecily. I’m your man, and your place is with me.” He took her arms and held her closer than close; and for some reason she was pretty sure he’d never let her go. “Welcome home baby.”  

The End

Megan Hussey is a feminist erotica writer and editor with nine single-title e-books, nine anthology stories, an erotic story audio CD, and two paperback novels in print. From mermen to vampires, Megan's stories feature sexy, kind-natured heroes and strong, real woman heroines.

Website:
http://goldenmuse.tripod.com

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