“Someone should, so I’ve made it my job.”
Leaning my head against his chest, we start to sway to the love songs, dancing under a sky full of stars. The headlight illuminates our bodies and stretches our shadows across the water.
“Want to go for a swim?” he asks.
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“I know.”
My concern must be written across my face as I look toward the manor sitting high on a hill acres away because he adds, “No one can see us down here.” He leads me to the wooden pier. It’s creaky and the wood has grayed and splintered. I wonder if it used to be given more attention.
“Okay.” I take off my sweater and set it down on an Adirondack chair.
He takes off his shoes and socks. I toe off my sneakers and start on the buttons running down the chest of my dress.
His shirt comes off and his jeans quickly follow into a pile on the dock. “A Thousand Years” starts playing and my hopes are caught in my throat. The beauty of this song is so fitting for this time together.
Once his boxers are discarded, I’m kissed quickly, and then he runs to jump into the lake. The splash is loud, the water rippling around him. When he breaks the surface, he says, “C’mon, Firefly.”
Taking my dress off one shoulder at a time, I let it fall and step out before setting it with my sweater. I slip out of my bra and slowly take my panties down. Keeping my eyes on him, the splashing has stopped. The smile that broke the water with him has disappeared. This isn’t just a midnight swim. The hunger in his eyes is easy to spot even on a night lit by the moon and a headlight.
Walking to the edge, my toes hang off the end of the dock, and I ask, “Ready for me?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for you, baby, so make it fast and get your sexy self in here.”
I dive in. The water’s chilly, but not so much to force me out. With my eyes closed, I swim as far as I can before needing air. I come up and take a lungful of summer air. Before I open my eyes, I’m grabbed. “You’re like a mermaid. I was starting to worry.”
“Don’t worry, my lov—”
Wanton lips cover mine, my words devoured, his breath becoming mine. Our bodies entwine underwater, and he whispers, “Let me make love to you.”
“Here? In the water? Is that even possible?”
That familiar smirk of his is back. “It’s possible, and I want to be inside you so badly.” A hand comes up and pushes the hair off my face. Normally blue-sky eyes now match the midnight hour. The soft notes of “Cherry Wine” blend into the gentle breeze blowing across the lake.
Although we haven’t discussed it much because Alexander wants the form of birth control to be my decision, I went on the pill a few months back. He’s not pressured me to have sex without a condom, but secretly I’ve been wanting to feel him, to feel our bodies connected in that way, our bodies as exposed as our souls. His hands are holding my hips, and I whisper, “We can be together.”
I half expect crashing lips and bodies. That’s not what I get. I get soft kisses in the moonlight and romance. I get seduced from the freedom of being outside, the freedom of being with the person I was born to be with. “Lie back.”
Floating on the surface, he holds me and kisses my wet body. I stare up at the star-dotted sky as his tongue laps my breast and then takes my raised nipple into his mouth. His other hand slides between my legs. Two fingers slip inside me as the pad of his thumb circles my clit. My mouth falls open. My body is sensitive to his touch, to the elements of the world floating around us. Moving me, I’m brought closer, and he kisses me. As it becomes more intense, I break apart, pushing off him and swimming away. “I was close.”
“Why did you stop me then?”
I swim back to him and wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. “I want to come with you.”
His lids are heavy, lust caught in his gaze. Shifting, he kisses me lightly then leans back when he’s positioned. His legs move underwater, keeping us afloat, but our connection is as solid as the ground that surrounds this lake. When he pushes inside me, my head falls back, my hair floating around my head. His tongue slides up my neck, and he gently nips at my jaw. “I love you, Firefly.”
Spreading my arms wide, I pull them back across the water, and around him again. I look up and take everything in from the light in the distance to how the stars shine, to the dark seas of the moon. When my eyes meet Alexander’s, I say, “I love you so much.”
“Never let me go, baby.” He thrusts and I hold on to him even tighter.
“I won’t ever—”
. . . “Let go.” I remember how glorious he looked wrapped around me. How his beauty was only magnified in that lake, in our love, in me. “Never let me go, baby.” I just wish I knew if he was referring to that night alone or to us forever. I still wonder.
Gasping for air, alarms sound, invading my sweet memories. The purity of our love and memories are tarnished by the hate set in motion by past mistakes. My eyes fly open. “Alexander.”
8
Sara Jane
Where are the impassioned eyes that frequent my dreams, the hair that falls forward over the windows to his soul? Where is the only one that will give my heart the peace it seeks?
Instead, I’m met with the disapproving scowl of my father.
“Where is Alexander?” I ask, just as a nurse rushes in.
“Is everything all right in here? How are you feeling?” She starts checking the monitor. The ticking of my heartbeat is steady again, and she exhales loudly in relief.
When she starts messing with my pillows, I reply, “I’m fine. Have you seen my husband?” Husband. My husband. I love the sound of it so much I consider repeating my question just to hear it said out loud again. My father storms out of the room, and my mother steps up to the end of the bed replacing him.
The nurse says, “We tried to get him to go home and rest, but he refused, so I suspect he’ll return in a few minutes.”
Sensing the tension, the nurse leaves the room while reminding me to call for her if I need anything.
My mother says, “Please go easy on your father. He’s concerned about you and just wants what’s best for you.”
“The best for him. Not me.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because if he could see feelings, he would see how much I love Alexander, something my words apparently don’t portray clearly.”
“Alexander is the reason you almost died.”
“No,” I snap, shaking my head, and then turning away. “Alexander is the only reason I’m alive.”
“Sara Jan—”
“Please leave me be for a few minutes. I want to be alone.”
“Honey.”
My eyes slide back to hers. I won’t justify my love to them. I refuse. “It’s time you accept that I’m a Kingwood now.” The lie feels too good to deny. The last name floating from my lips as if it was the one I was born with.
“I’m going for coffee,” she says. “I hope when I return you’re in a better mood.”