Immoral Page 6

  "Let's get cleaned up and then we'll go down for breakfast. You use the bathroom first."

  "Okay."

  I had hoped he would suggest bathing together.

  Patience, Annika, patience.

  Chapter 37

  Today is more of the same. The whole town grinds to a halt at noon for siesta. Two hours of wine and food. Then an afternoon nap. Then dinnertime with more wine and food. Another walk around town.

  I think I'm adjusting to the heat. There comes a time when the human body just gives up fighting it and resets its internal thermometer. Has to. There is no air conditioning, so there is no choice.

  All day long, Damien holds my hand. Every once in a while he kisses me.

  It's weird because we're not like that yet. But whatever. I've stopped thinking too hard about anything.

  After our nighttime walk, we head back up to our room again.

  I'm slightly antsy, in anticipation of what might happen.

  We take turns in the bathroom again. When I emerge, Damien is under the insect netting.

  I take a deep breath and crawl under it next to him.

  I thought the last thing I would have wanted in this heat was to be curled up with another human body.

  But Damien Cage makes everything all right.

  I'm not on the bed with him for three seconds before his tongue is in my mouth.

  Yes!

  Hard and forceful. Delightful. Tasting me. Probing me.

  My hands find his brutish shoulders, exploring the details of his muscles. I fall back onto the bed, Damien Cage on top of me.

  Damien Cage.

  Frontman for the Platinum-selling band Eon Sphinx.

  On top of me.

  Soon to be inside me, I hope.

  I melt... or maybe burn up is a better term due to the heat all around.

  But I don't care. I want this.

  Our sweat comingles into a wet soupy mixture of power cock and mortal girl.

  I reach down and stroke it under his shorts.

  Yep, that's the one.

  I remember it in the Roman garden throbbing in the moonlight.

  Jasmine's is bigger but this is the one I want. Ten inches is definitely not shabby by any means.

  He moves so it's positioned right on top of my girl.

  Who is jumping out of her lips to try and get a taste of him.

  Oh, where to begin? Cooch or mouth?

  Mouth.

  I snake myself under him. He sits up, his massiveness rising like a cannon-launcher above me. I stick my tongue out and lick his amazing balls. His sack is full of delightful ridges. I'd love to take the time and taste each one.

  But my pussy is screaming at me. She wants satisfaction now.

  I take his head into my mouth.

  Checkmark.

  I begin to suck.

  Oh my God! I'm in heaven. This is too good!

  "Annika," he says.

  I continue to suck. I don't want to stop. I never want to stop.

  "Annika!"

  He grabs my head and pushes me back.

  "I can't," he says.

  Whaaaaaattttttttttttt? Nooooooooo!

  "I'm sorry, Annika," he says. "I'm not ready yet. I just can't."

  "It's okay," I say with the biggest fake smile I have ever mustered up in my life.

  He flops onto his back, puts his arm up over his eyes, and remains motionless.

  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

  It's okay.

  I get it.

  He already explained it to me.

  He said it wasn't going to be easy. No shit. He wasn't kidding.

  I lie there for a few seconds, trying to control my breathing and relax.

  But it's no use. The launch sequence is activated and once the countdown has begun everything begins to melt down until it's satisfied.

  Fuck it.

  I crawl out of the insect netting over to the bathroom. I go in and lock the door.

  He probably knows what I'm doing, but I don't care. I reach down and stroke my folds until I come.

  Which isn't very long.

  Then I sneak back in under the netting and go to sleep. Or rather, lie awake for three hours thinking too much then go to sleep.

  As the days melt by, I get used to it.

  Night after night we sleep together. Night after night we don't have sex.

  But it's okay. It really is.

  I'm not sure if we can ever really be lovers, but I'm more than thrilled that we can at least be this.

  Whatever this is.

  I have no name for it but it's perfect.

  A night spent with Damien Cage not having sex is better than a night spent with an average guy with sex.

  I mean it.

  Chapter 38

  On our final day in South America it hits me.

  I totally forgot about the investigation, Detective Gomez, and Arely.

  That's how hypnotizing this place is. Not to mention Damien.

  I step into the room from the balcony.

  "Damien," I say. "We have to go back."

  "That's why we're packing," he says with a hint of mockery. "Our flight leaves at two so we'd better get a move on."

  I step over to the balcony and look out at the hills that have become a sort of home. It's only been a week, but I'm going to miss this place.

  "Before we go back," I say, "I have something to tell you."

  He zips up his suitcase and just looks at me. Guess the tone in my voice is alarming.

  "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner," I say, "but I got swept up in this place... in you. I want you to know something."

  He just puts his hands on his hips and stares at me, his tattooed chest muscles busting out of his black sleeveless shirt.

  "I got a call last week," I say as I sit on the bed.

  Then I proceed to tell him everything. The mysterious message about Arely Gutierrez-Machado. Detective Gomez. The recent murder in Brimford.

  His face drops. He sits on the bed. I've never seen Damien Cage look deflated before. It's like someone popped him and let all the air out.

  "Why didn't you mention this sooner?" he says in a hollow voice.

  "Because," I say, "I'm going to be brutally honest here. I wasn't sure if you did it or not. But it's ridiculous. What would a rock star like you want to accomplish by killing two street thugs way up north? How could you have even possibly pulled it off with your lifestyle? It's ridiculous. So I thought I would tell you because this trip... being here with you... convinced me that I can trust you fully. And I know you didn't fly up to Brimford, Massachusetts on a dark night in January 2011 to kill some two-bit criminal."

  He just sits and stares, motionless. I put my hand on his arm. He doesn't move.

  "Damien," I say. "What's wrong?"

  "I have something to tell you too," he says.

  Uh-oh.

  My heart starts thumping and my breath goes shallow.

  "Three years ago..." he says then stops.

  "Yes?" I say, a sheen of sweat breaking out all over me.

  "Three years ago I did fly up to Brimford, Massachusetts on a cold dark January night to kill a two-bit criminal."

  I'm shaking now.

  "You did what?" I say, my voice trembling.

  "Marcellina's cousin," he says, "He killed her. He got her hooked on heroin again."

  Oh my fucking God!

  "But see, he started killing her years before," continues Damien. "When he first taught her how to shoot up in an old abandoned building."

  A strange thing happens to me. I'm in the room with a man confessing murder to me. But a calm washes over me. I don't feel afraid. Not at all.

  "It was right before coming here the first time," he says. "I told Jasmine I was going to South America but first... I flew up there. In a disguise. With a gun. I paid a guy to find him for me. Found out he goes to this club."

  "Club Cabrillo," I say.

  "Yes," he says. His voice is without emotion, like he's
almost not even here. "I've never told anyone this. Nobody but Arely knows I was there. And now you."

  "It's okay, Damien," I say. "I understand why you would kill somebody like that."

  "That's the thing," he says. "I didn't kill him. I was going to. That was the plan. I just couldn't do it. Big tough guy Damien Cage had him. He was on his knees. And I just couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger. See, Arely was smart. He knew. He didn't try to fight me. That's how he stayed alive. He just got down on his knees to die like a good little obedient puppy. If he had tried to knife me, I could have done it. But I couldn't pull the trigger with him on his knees in the snow."

  "But he was killed that night."

  "No," says Damien. "That was January 16, 2011. He was killed two nights later on the eighteenth. I was already here in South America."

  "So who killed him?"

  "I don't know. I put out some feelers anonymously but never found out anything. He had an enemies list a few miles long so it could be any one of a hundred people."

  I'm relieved.

  So relieved.

  But then, I get angry. Angry at Arely Gutierrez-Machado. He killed Marcellina. Our Marcellina. I get it.

  I sit next to him, putting my hand on his thigh. He clasps my hand.

  He's breathing heavily.

  "I love her too," I say.

  "What?" he says.

  "When you care for someone, you care about what they care about. You care about her. You love her. If you love her, then I love her. I have to. It goes with caring for you."

  He looks hard at me.

  And he sees I mean it.

  I do.

  I can never have him fully. She'll always have a piece of him. I could be like most women and not settle.

  But I understand reality too well. He can't do anything about it. He will always love her.

  The best I can hope for is that a part of him can love me at the same time.

  "It feels so good to share that with somebody," he says as he turns and looks at me. "I'm so glad it was you."

  We sit there for what feels like a very long time but it's probably only a couple of minutes or so. My hand still rests on his thigh. He puts his right hand on top of mine.

  Then he pulls me into him and kisses me. Our tongues meet.

  It's the most perfect moment I ever remember. A melding of spirits. A touching of souls.

  He grabs my legs, wrapping them around his waist. Standing up, he carries me to the bed. Then he throws me down and leaps on top of me.

  He hovers above me, stroking my forehead and my hair.

  We stay like that for a while, just staring into each other's eyes.

  I could do this forever. Sex is sex, but staring into his eyes and communicating so deeply with this man is the answer to all of my dreams.

  I'm not afraid. I truly understand him. He's no killer. He's a hurt, tortured man. I can't even say that I wouldn't have pulled the trigger myself.

  He kisses me softly. Through his kisses, I feel his pain. I get who he really is.

  It's hard to explain, but it's like I travel through him.

  He is no longer the boy whose poster was on my wall. Don't even know who that was. That was some rock star.

  This is a man. A flesh-and-blood man who loves.

  Who is loved.

  His lips touch mine.

  I close my eyes.

  The weight of his body presses down on me with a hot and heavy warmth. I know we have a flight to catch, but I don't care. Another night in this place would be worth it.

  Oh fuck, a thousand nights in this place would be worth it. I so need him. I so need this.

  He launches his mouth with its hot breath down my neck. My head snaps back as his hands find my lower back, lifting the center of me upwards into him. Through his pants I feel his perfect cock erect and ready.

  But it's okay.

  I know he'll probably stop at the last second like he did two nights ago.

  It's okay.

  I'll take what I can get.

  Because I'm going to save this man. I'm going to free him from his pain.

  With patience and perseverance.

  Over time.

  However long it takes.

  Oh God.

  He's licking the spot between my breasts.

  Oh MY God!

  My hands find his sides, strumming his taut abdominal muscles all the way around to his back.

  Fuck, he hasn't worked out in days but those back muscles are like iron shelves!

  How does he do it?

  Actually God, it's you. You created this. You created this perfect man. I don't know if you're really there. I don't know if your name is Jehovah like my mom preaches, but if you're there... whatever you are... whoever you are...

  Good job!

  Thank you!

  Thank you for this man.

  With his unbelievable intelligence wrapped in this sinewy powerful frame. Which if it doesn't fuck me is okay.

  It's okay.

  Really.

  It's okay.

  He rips my dress open. Daringly, I hadn't worn a bra today. What can I say? The local atmosphere got to me.

  Oh!

  Glad I didn't.

  Because that was his top teeth grazing over my right nipple.

  Fuck!

  I tried.

  I tried not to let her get all activated and launch-prepped.

  But my girl has a mind of her own.

  She's running a tap down there.

  Okay, looks like Annika is going to be a frustrated bowl of horny jelly girl all over the plane seat. Because I know he's not going to fuck me.

  He's not ready.

  That's what he said the other day.

  Right?

  Now his mouth is at my belly button. He sticks his tongue in.

  God, I want to scream!

  Shit, maybe I should be the one to stop this. I swear I'm going to have to run in the bathroom and rub another one out when he says he can't go through with it.

  Funny, he doesn't seem to be stopping.

  Could he...?

  Can he...?

  Is he going to...?

  I can't even allow myself the comfort of the thought. Two nights ago he couldn't. Nothing has changed.

  Wait.

  No.

  Something has changed. I told him I'm with him fully. That I love Marcellina too. That I get him. That I'm with him one hundred percent.

  That's different, isn't it?

  No, I can't allow myself to entertain the thought.

  No.

  Not even for a split second.

  Damien's hot breath is at my crotch.

  Can't help it.

  I buck, shoving my girl into his face.

  Well, actually... she's in charge now. Shoving her own self into his face.

  Don't blame her. It's a fucking awesome face.

  I reach down and slither my fingers through his black hair with blond highlights. Like flames.

  Mmmmmmmmmm...

  Oh God, they're talking.

  Him and my girl.

  He's with her down there.

  Oh God, I can't get too excited. Can't let it happen.

  Can't.

  Let.

  It.

  Happen.

  Tooooooooo fucking late.

  My clit is on fire.

  Damien rips my dress open, exposing my panties.

  Fuck! What am I going to wear on the plane? That was my last clean outfit.

  His teeth grab the elastic at the top and pull them down. He grunts as he does so.

  Next thing I know his tongue is dancing all over my girl's lips.

  Checkmark.

  CHECK!

  MARK!

  Oh there it is. Oh my God yes. Oh my fucking God yes.

  Damien Cage's tongue on my pussy lips is music. There is a rhythm.

  My girl knows that rhythm.

  It's in her soul.

  Back.

  Forth.r />
  Up.

  Lick.

  And thattttttttttttttt's it...

  I come.

  Oh...

  ... do I come...

  ... oh oh oh...

  ... by the tongue of this man...

  ... this amazing man...

  I'm complete.

  Shut up! I know I'm complete sounds stupid. I don't know what else to say. I'm fucking complete, okay?

  God, there's only so many ways to say...

  YESSSSSSSS!

  Breathe, Annika, breathe!

  I look down.

  He's there.

  Just smiling up at me.

  Oh God.

  Next thing I know that face is in mine.

  I taste the remains of my overflow on his lips, on his face.

  He squints down.

  His stare is hard, pressing into me.

  "You're amazing," he says.

  "I love you," I say.

  Shit.

  Oh fuck, Annika! Why did you go and have to use that word? Who do you think you are? Jared?

  Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

  It just slipped out, all right? I mean, can you blame me? Overwhelmed here, y'know!

  "Yeah," he says, "I'm pretty fucking sure I love you too."

  What?!

  Holy fuck!

  Did he just say that?

  "I always know when I see it in the eyes," he says. "And I saw it in yours the day we met. At least you didn't punch me."

  What does that mean? Was that a reference to the strange punch I almost threw at him?

  I don't know what to say. I just lie there under him, staring up into him.

  Next thing I know his tongue is back in my mouth.

  I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment.

  Damien Cage says he loves me.

  Check. Fucking. Mark.

  Then he's off me.

  Get back here!

  But then I see he's fumbling for a condom.

  Oh, good. I wasn't thinking. Yes, by all means!

  The next few moments are a vortex of actions. My dress off. His pants down. Condom on.

  And...

  ... just like that...

  ... he's inside me.

  Damien Cage is inside me.

  Fucking me.

  Pummeling me.

  I'm ready. I'm back. I'm loving it. It's everything I thought it would be and more.

  He says nothing as his cock rides me with fierce freedom. He just stares into my eyes.