Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Memory: Book Two (Scars 2)
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Chapter Eight

 

He
was gone when I woke up. He had silently fucked me again last night, and after
that I had stayed huddled against his skin like he was the only refuge and
warmth around. If my attempt at gaining affection was welcome or not, I had no
idea, but he didn’t cast me aside. Whatever his feelings or apathy toward me,
at least I was welcome as a bedmate.

I pulled
on my robe before I went in search of him. It was white, like everything else,
as if white were a disease that could be caught, an affliction that ran rampant
through this house. Except for Aaron; with his dark clothes, hair and eyes, he
was like a blot; a shadow on a lung, ominous and overpowering.

I
padded silently down the stairs, stopping at half way when voices rose up to
meet me.

“You
need to start sharing your information, Aaron,” a man said. “They came after
you in your home. Attacking you is like attacking
us
.”

“Relax,
I will deal with it.” Aaron’s voice was tight, but the other man obviously
wasn’t fazed by it.

“You’re
one of us, Aaron. Luca thinks of you as family, you better let us in. And why
the hell are you still here anyway? You should have her somewhere safe until
the assholes who did this are strung up for it.” I heard stress in the
stranger’s voice.

“She’s
taken care of.”

The
man didn’t answer and they lapsed into a silence. Taking a breath, I resumed my
descent and their eyes turned to me as I entered the kitchen. The stranger sat
on a barstool. He was older, yet handsome and well dressed in a suit. His face
broke into a grin at the sight of me.

“Hey,
sleeping beauty. Awake at last.” He stood and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that
lay on the pale stone countertop. They were yellow and pink roses, with not a
hint of white. He pulled me in close in a squeezing hug before releasing me and
casting his eyes down me as if making sure I was in one piece. “For you, pretty
lady.” He presented me with the colorful roses, which I took in my arms.

“Thanks,
uh…”

“Antony,”
Aaron cut in. “You’re supposed to be resting, Rachel.”

I
didn’t glance at him, instead giving Antony a bright smile of thanks. “I’ve
slept all night. Thank you, Antony. They’re beautiful.” Only then did I turn my
gaze to Aaron. “Do we have a vase?”

“No.”

I
didn’t let my smile falter. “I’ll find something later.” Antony helped me with
a gentle hold on my arm to slide up onto the barstool. He was more in the age
group that my mother went after, but he was far more handsome and youthful
looking. I let the bouquet rest in front of me on the counter, not resisting
the urge to run my fingers along the soft petals as if the color could be
catching.

“That’s
how they bruise.”

I
let my fingers linger a slight moment longer before lifting my gaze to Aaron.
“How would you know? Have you ever brought me flowers?”

Antony
barked out a laugh. “He’s never struck me as a flowers and romance kind of
guy.”

I
didn’t let my eyes leave Aaron. “It’s a serious question. I don’t remember.”

Aaron
placed his white coffee cup in the dishwasher. “You’re not really a flowers
kind of girl.”

I
reached out to stroke the petals once more. “Yeah, I think that I am.” Then I
forced a smile and turned to Antony. “So, how do you know Aaron, or me?”

“Aaron
and I work together at times.” The man’s grin was wide, as if there were a joke
that I didn’t get.

“Doing
what?”

“I
own a restaurant, and Aaron…” his eyes darted over to where Aaron stood, still
and waiting “he’s a problem solver.” The man sighed. “I guess I should get
going, let you rest a bit more.” He pulled me into a hug that took me by
surprise, holding me against him in a tight embrace that he released me from
just as suddenly. I watched as he walked to the door, Aaron followed him
outside and pulled the door closed behind him.

I
sighed and began to explore. Apples lay in the chiller drawer of the
refrigerator. I plucked out the reddest one and bit into it, hissing slightly
against the cold on my teeth. When Aaron didn’t return, I stepped out through the
glass doors into a walled outdoor area, the star of which was the lap pool. It
was painted a deep blue that made the water appear nearly black. I brushed my
foot across the surface and the water rippled underneath me. It was warm and on
impulse, I let my robe drop to my feet. Naked now, I paused as a gentle breeze
stole in past the wall and the gates. I took a breath, and dived in, down into
a deep abyss of dark water that at first installed a small amount of fear
within me and I began to kick upward, heading for the surface and daylight. But
then I changed my mind. What was so good up there? I finished the length
underwater, hitting the hard wall of the pool and twisting to turn back. Under
there, in the darkness, I imagined myself as a shark: sleek and dangerous,
lurking in the deep.

By
then I missed oxygen and a slight dizziness came over me as I fought down panic
and headed for the surface again. My arms stretched out to reach for the side
and the air, but a dark shadow covered the sunlight and my arms shot back to my
body in fright.

But
he grabbed me anyway. Aaron pulled me up out of the water. I gasped in air as
he lay me down on the stone paving and I curved my nails into it, looking for
something hard to clamp onto.

“You
were under for a while. Not a good idea with a head injury.” He didn’t sound
like he cared either way.

I
reached for the back of my head and felt the dripping wet bandages that I had
forgotten about. “I just wanted to see how long I could hold my breath for.” He
raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, only placing my discarded robe over my wet,
naked body and helping me to my feet. “Do you ever swim?” I asked him.

“Of
course. I live by the ocean.” He turned toward the house.

“Let’s
swim in the sea now then.” He paused and swung his head toward me and my
nakedness. “I don’t want to go by myself then, just in case.” I cracked a
smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll put a swimsuit on.”

He
didn’t return my smile. “Sure. I’ll go get changed.” He headed back inside,
while I stood there and rubbed my skin with the robe so I wouldn’t drip all
over the floor. When I made my way to the bedroom, it was empty. I pulled out a
white bikini and held it up. At least it would make my skin look tan. I changed
quickly and grabbed two towels.

Aaron
was waiting at the pool, staring down into the water. He wore only black swim
shorts, revealing his defined chest with its eternal tan. He turned for the
gate when he saw me, and I stopped as I saw his back. The scars that ripped
across the muscle filled me with revulsion. How could someone so immaculate
looking be marked in such a grotesque way?

But
I swallowed and continued on when he waited, holding the gate open for me. The
sand was warm beneath my feet and I dug my toes in, trying to remember when I
had last been to the beach.

“Your
house is so close. Aren’t you scared that it will flood?” I asked him as we
walked down together.

“One
day it will. It will all erode and everything will slip away like it never
existed.”

 The
smell of salt and the soft breeze against my face made me smile. All of a
sudden, I took off in a sprint, pumping my arms and legs until I hit the cool
of the water and waves splashed against my legs. As I waded further, hard
shells cut at my feet, and maybe a crab pinched at me, but I kept going until
it was deep enough. Then, I dived underneath an incoming wave. Salt assaulted
me, but I didn’t care. I felt clean — especially with the salt stinging the
wound at the back of my head. Reaching the surface, I gulped in air, before
diving down again, and soon my feet couldn’t touch the sandy bottom and I lay
on my back and let the ocean rock me. Closing my eyes against the sun, I just
stayed like that, clean and happy.

“Rachel.”

My
eyes opened to see Aaron treading water beside me. “You shouldn’t go out so
deep. You’re still recovering.”

“I
feel recovered,” I said dreamily. “I feel reborn.” I paddled over to him and
wrapped my arms around his neck. “Besides, I know that you’ll rescue me,
right?”

His
forehead wrinkled. “Rescue you? More likely drown you.”

It
took me a moment to realize that he was joking and I wrapped my legs around his
torso so he was forced to support the both of us. “I’ll drown you first.” Then
I leaned my face in closer, my lips near his ear. “I’ve got you now. What are
you going to do?” I whispered playfully as my crotch ground against his.

His
lips curved into a smile. “I can think of a few things.” His hand snaked down
to the waist of my bikini bottoms and began to tease me through the fabric.

“Promises,
promises.” I pushed away, onto my back and kicking. “Catch me and you can have
me!” I yelled as I twisted onto my front and began to swim. I felt powerful as
my arms cut through the water; no longer were they skinny and useless, now they
were machines, driving me to win the race.

But
he won, of course, grabbing me around the waist when my feet reached the bottom
once more. I feigned disappointment, but in reality I was delighted that his
arms were around me, trapping me. I made a show of struggling slightly, before
giving up and wrapping my arms around his neck so that it was I who trapped him
this time. My mouth pressed onto his lips that were cold and tasted like sea
water. He kissed me back, his own hand running down to my bottom, cupping me
and squeezing like he was restraining himself from ripping them off. Part of me
wished that he would and I wondered if I should shimmy out of them and save him
the trouble.

A
dog barked and we broke apart to see an elderly woman walking it down the
beach. She had a disapproving frown on her face. I let out a laugh and turned
to see Aaron grinning.

“I
don’t think we’re behaving like we should,” I told him, grabbing his hand as we
walked out of the shallow water and onto the sand. I sat and pulled him down
beside me. He stretched out, one arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
I took that moment to let my own eyes rake over his body. His chest was smooth
and hairless, the only interruption in that gorgeous golden skin were the
stunning array of muscles that gave him the illusion of being as perfect as a
work of art.

I
ran my hand over them slowly, enjoying the hardness.

“What
are you doing?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

“Admiring
you. Don’t get a big head or anything.”

His
body moved as he chuckled silently. The woman with the dog had turned back now,
and was preparing to walk past us again. Grinning, I ducked my head down and
began to lick at the salt and the water on Aaron’s abs.

He
let out a more vocal laugh now. “We can always go into the house if you’re that
horny?”

I
paused in my licking. “No. I want to give that sour old woman a show.”

“By
all means, go ahead.”

I
let my tongue drag down lower, pulling at his swimming shorts to reveal the
dark line of hair there, then pulled them lower to reveal a cock that was still
soft. I enclosed my mouth over it, ignoring the barking of the dog, ignoring
everything except my purpose of giving him pleasure.

And
I liked it. I liked it hardening in my mouth; I liked the way that he didn’t
push my head down so I would gag and cough as my throat bruised. It was almost
fun, or more likely, I enjoyed the fact that old woman knew what I was doing.

And
I enjoyed it when I heard him hiss with pleasure and thrust up just slightly.
Cold Aaron was warming up underneath me and it felt like a triumph. I worked
him in and out of my mouth, massaging him with my tongue until he exploded down
my throat in a hot, salty eruption that I gulped down quickly, not releasing
him until I was sure that every drop was gone.

Finally,
I slid my mouth from him slowly before looking up at him and licking my lips.

“Happy?”
I asked.

He
looked down at me, lifting his head up slightly. “Are you?”

I
nodded. “Yeah. It was actually…it was actually fun for once.” Then a thought
occurred to me. “Do we do this often? Exhibitionism?”

He
lay back down, turning over onto his front and resting his chin on his hands. I
lay down beside him, adjusting my suit to make sure that I was still covered.

“You’re
pretty private. You like to keep to yourself a lot.”

I
frowned at him. “Me private?  Talking to you is like talking to a stone wall.”
I gave him a shove so he knew that I was joking, and he grinned. Part of me
wanted to tell him that doing that out in the open turned me on; I liked the
idea of people looking at me, wanting me, envying me with the penis of this
beautiful specimen in my mouth.

Then
I looked at his back, with its terrible history of scars, and my jaw tightened
in disgust. But I swallowed, and reached out to trace the path of one. He
stiffened underneath me and I stopped in my movement but didn’t remove my hand.

BOOK: Memory: Book Two (Scars 2)
8.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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