26
Day 61 – Juliet
After Lillian’s visit, I was shaken. My uncle had come to her for money. He’d spent all he received when my parents died—what little there had been after the sale of their home and depleting their bank account. Thoughts of him worsened my fear of lightning. I hadn’t told Tack that one night I found my uncle standing at the end of my bed. The flashing light from a storm startled me awake, and I heard his heavy breathing as the thunder subsided for a moment. Holding my own breath, I deciphered the sound of skin slapping skin. I couldn’t look, and my eyes twitched as another brilliant flash crossed through my window. The slick sound increased, and my heart raced as I realized what he was doing to himself. He groaned at his climax, and I swallowed back the bile in my throat.
“Oh, Juliet. One day you’ll give me everything I want from you,” he muttered in the darkness of my room before lightning sparked again. Even after he left my room, I couldn’t move, frozen with fear at the storm, his words, and his actions. After that night, I locked my room each time I went to sleep, but I didn’t trust him when I was awake, either. I lived in a perpetual state of fear until I graduated high school and escaped the trailer park. I begged Lillian not to involve him in the proceedings related to the manslaughter case. Lillian said if there was any evidence I had a living relative, the experiment could be recalled. I needed a family member in case of a dead body. Even the thought of him claiming me in death made me shiver.
“He wanted money, but this isn’t a contest. You aren’t winning a million dollars by surviving. This is about you and your reflective process,” Lillian reminded me. She was correct, but the fact my uncle knew my whereabouts worried me. How could I return to Baltimore if he knew I lived there? What would happen when my time on the island was complete? Where would I go? What would become of Tack and me?
A greater question bothered me—had I atoned for my crime?
Thoughts of killing Rick niggled at me. I hadn’t meant to kill Tack’s friend. I hadn’t thought of him like that—someone’s friend, someone’s son, someone’s lover. But then again, Rick hadn’t thought of me in that regard, and neither had Tack, until we were forced together. Could I forgive my attackers? Could I absolve them of what they did to me? In many ways, it wasn’t a matter of forgiving what happened, but taking back control of my life for me. Hadn’t Tack deserved that right as well? Even if I once hated him. Even if I once wished him dead, like his friend. How had everything changed? When had the shift occurred? How did I let go of the pain in order to enjoy pleasure?
I’d wrapped myself around Tack and held onto him like a life preserver, hoping to weather the storm with his strength circling me. Through the course of the night, I’d fallen asleep, despite the rumble of rain and the distancing lightning. I woke in his arms, which were slack from his sleep but still draped over my legs and around my back. I shifted, sensing he had to be uncomfortable with my weight on him all night, but his arms engulfed me and pressed me to his chest. I giggled a little.
“What’s so funny?” His sleep-laden voice was rough and sexy. Something long and hard pressed against my hip. My thighs clenched and my core pulsed.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“I thought I was dreaming you in my lap,” he said, roughness still in his throat as his lips pressed to my head.
“I weigh too much to sit on your lap like this,” I said, pressing back on his chest, but his hands tightened on me again.
“Yet you’ve been here all night,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You can straddle me instead if you’d like. You know, balance out the weight and all.” My head shot back, and I looked up at him to see his eyes still closed but a smirk on his face. He was teasing me without any threat. I shifted, and he groaned, the length of his excitement evident in his shorts. I shifted once again, removing the towel he had placed over his lap, and crawling over him. His eyes slowly opened.
“Keep them closed,” I whispered, testing his trust. My thighs straddled either side of his. He squeezed his eyes shut but his eyebrows rose as my palms flattened on his lower abs and climbed up the ladder of his chest.
“Mouse,” he croaked, as I slid forward a touch on his lap. The heat of his erection was merely a centimeter from my core. We weren’t touching there, but the anticipation of pressure made me wet. I’d reached his shoulders and curled my palms over the bulk of them. Slowly, my hands skimmed down the length of his arms. He was still wearing my bracelet. Trapping my fingers as they drew close to his, his eyes remained closed, but they twitched. He wanted to open them and see me, but I wasn’t ready.
“Not yet,” I whispered. “Trust me.”
“Mouse.” His voice hitched, and I cut him off with the press of my lips. I was in control, I told myself, curling my hand around the nape of his neck. I lowered onto the length of him and he hissed against my lips. I rubbed up and down the stiff shaft beneath the heat between my thighs. Our shorts created a welcome friction. My mouth didn’t leave his and I slowly sucked on his lower lip before melting both of mine to his. He took the lead with our mouths while he let me conduct the building pleasure in our laps. His mouth moved over mine, drawing me into his with deep drags. When his tongue crossed the line, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I drew back, gripping his shoulders as anchors, and rolling against him. I slid my center down the heat of him, desperate to ignite us both.
“Keep that up, Mouse, and we’re going to have a problem.”
I nodded as my lids drifted shut. Continuing to ride him at the pace I set, I ignored his words. I was taking control of him, while his body was pleasing mine.
“Mmmm, baby, I like you taking what you want,” he growled, flexing his hands on my hips. He tightly squeezed, as if to stop me. “But Mouse, we don’t have to do this. We have ten months to discover one another the way we should have in the first place.”
The words spurred me onward. I made no move to stop, struggling as the storm in my lower belly grew to threatening proportions. His fingers dug into my hips, and he guided our rhythm with his fingertips. The friction under the seam of my shorts grew, the tension reaching a new height as I rubbed over him, searching for relief I hadn’t experienced with him yet.
“Like that, baby.” It wasn’t a question. He was telling me he approved of what we were doing. My mouth fell back to his but I couldn’t concentrate on two areas at once. As my eruption reached its peak, my mouth hovered over his without kissing him. I groaned against his lips, drawing his breath as my oxygen because I could hardly breathe. My body tingled with relief. He captured my lips as he stilled me over him. The short jolt of his erection under me alerted me to his own release, and a moist warmth seeped between us. I felt like a vixen, as I’d cunningly taken what I wanted from him.
“You undo me,” he moaned against our combined lips, still pressed to one another, but not kissing.
“I was hoping to tame you,” I whispered.
“I think I want you to tame me,” he hummed. “But you make me wild instead.”
+ +
“Wait,” he said, reaching for my hand and stopping me in my tracks as we traveled a new path through the jungle. I stopped, thinking he heard something or saw something. Instead, he cupped my jaw and tugged me to him, kissing me deep enough to lose my thoughts, my breath, and my whereabouts. Then he pulled back, smiling slowly as if he savored the taste on his lips, and began trekking through the trees once again, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn’t just chipped away at my heart a little more.
“You seem to know your way around these woods,” he said, and for some reason, a Robert Frost poem popped into my head.
“Years of practice,” I grumbled. He twisted his head to glance behind at me.
“Tell me,” he asked, but then looked forward again to give me the freedom to speak.
“My uncle. I told you about him and his disappointment that he inherited me. I also mentioned how inappropriate he was at times, and it became more difficult to avoid him as I grew older.” I shivered with the memories. “He liked to play this game with me when I was younger and newly under his care.” My memory raced backward. His voice in my head.
“He’d tell me if I could get myself out of the woods, I would be free.”
“Free from what?” Tack casually asked as he walked forward. He’d missed the implication in my voice. When I didn’t answer, he stopped and turned to face me. “Free from what?” His voice lowered as he looked down at me.
“I’d be free from him. If I could outrun him, I won, but if he caught me, I was his.”
Tack reached forward, but let his fingers drop from my cheek moments before touching me.
“Did he ever win?” he hissed, his voice menacing and low.
“Never. I memorized those woods, making maps in my head. I always found my way out of danger.” Tack continued to stare at me, his fingers flinching to comfort me, but something in my expression warned him not to touch me. “I actually think he enjoyed the chase.”
I recalled my earlier memory of him standing over my bed.
One day you’ll give me everything I want from you.
The words transposed in my head, mixing with Tack’s voice. How sinister they sounded from one man. How desperate they sounded from another. He’d mentioned he wanted me to give him things. He wanted to be asked. A strange silence curled between us. Was Tack only interested in the chase with me? Or did he mean what he said? He wanted permission. We seemed to dance on the edge of a precipice, where the tiniest imbalance, either way, could crash everything.
He squeezed my hand, and we continued climbing higher up the steep mountain, passing the natural landing I’d found when I ran from him. We seemed to be traveling with our own deep thoughts as backpacks weighing down our journey.
“That looks like a cave,” I announced as we came to another clearing. Spinning in a circle, I faced the great expanse of the ocean and a breathtaking view of the distant islands. It appeared as if they were only a few miles away, and in some instances, they might have been, but they were far enough to prevent escape. I turned back to find Tack entering the cave. I didn’t wish to escape any longer. I didn’t know how I’d leave him in ten months. Maybe the time frame sweetened the growing relationship. An end date allowed us to be as free as we wanted with one another, with no further commitment. My stomach soured at the thought.
Tack disappeared, and I hesitantly followed.
“Are bats in there? I hate bats.” I groaned, ducking as I entered, even though my head was nowhere near the ceiling.
“It seems empty.” His voice echoed back to me. “Just a hollowed-out niche in the side of the island. Deep enough to block out the sunlight, but it doesn’t lead anywhere.” I finally reached him. We were surrounded by complete darkness, with only the thinnest trickle of sunlight streaming through to us. We stood close to one another, but not touching.
“Can you hear that?” he whispered. I giggled, but as the sound softened, I tipped my head.
“It sounds like a drum.” The surprising rhythm beat steadily, soothingly.
“It sounds like a heartbeat,” he whispered again. He reached for my hand and tugged me against him. He didn’t kiss me as he had on our walk, but his palm cupped my jaw. He seemed nervous, protective even.
“I’d never let anyone hurt you again,” he said softly, suddenly, and I questioned where the words came from. Just as quickly he said, “Let’s get out of here,” and slipped his arm around my shoulder, guiding me to the entrance. A breeze greeted us, and off in the distance we could see clouds rolling together.
“Maybe it was just the wind, vibrating off the back of the cave,” I suggested, trying to ignore the desperation in his tone.
“Maybe,” he replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. As we headed back in the direction we first climbed, I noticed him look over his shoulder. His brows pinched, and he shook his head before facing forward and following behind me.
+ +
We swam in the ocean. We kissed. We bathed in the pond. We kissed. We lay under the stars. We kissed. But he made no attempt to touch me deeper. I sensed he wanted to. He definitely wanted more from me, but he let me lead. We slept together most nights, taking turns at each other’s dwelling, and the sexual tension grew as he held me tighter and tighter each night.
One day, we spent some time separated. I needed to focus more on my thesis, piecing together the puzzling changes in my emotions toward him. Later in the evening, I walked to his place, following a path well-worn through the jungle, but I stopped short when I saw him crawling around the fire pit. Some nights it was too hot to have a blazing bonfire, but the heat was necessary for cooking, and so the fire was lit. He circled on his hands and knees, scampering around the rocks. His head lowered as if he were sniffing the sand, and then he paused. His forehead fell into his cupped fingers and he rotated his head side to side. A giggle escaped at the strange position of his body and his head shot up.
He sprung to standing, dusting off his shorts as I approached.
“Don’t laugh,” he said, biting back his own smile. “It was stupid, I know.” His voice lowered like a schoolboy caught doing something foolish.
“What were you doing?”
“Garvey keeps telling me I need to dance.” He swiped a hand through his hair and the sand from his palm mixed with the strands growing long once again. “I thought I’d try it, though I don’t understand it.”
Thoughtful a moment, I stared at the divot in the sand he’d made from his crawling.
“What are you supposed to be doing…in the dance?”
“Learning something about an animal.”
“What animal?” I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing. On his hands and knees, I couldn’t imagine what animal he imitated.
“The one I am supposed to learn from,” he replied, indirectly answering me. The laughter could no longer be held back.
“It’s stupid,” he said, turning away from me. “Let’s read or something.” He took one big step toward his tent, but I reached for his wrist. Staring down at my fingers against his skin, he stopped. His eyes lifted slowly, and I saw a boy inside the man, one afraid to be laughed at, one afraid of failing.
“Try to explain it to me. What animal were you imitating?”
He sighed and looked away, swiping a hand nervously through his hair again. “A mouse.” He exhaled, lowering his eyes.
“You saw a mouse on the island?” I questioned, looking around us as if I’d spot one in the sand.
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” He tugged his arm, attempting to release my grip.
“Hey,” I snapped. “I’m trying to understand.” He glanced up at me. “Why don’t you tell me what a mouse taught you? Forget the dancing part.” My fingers slipped from his wrist to his hand, loosely holding onto his fingers. His eyes shifted away.
“A mouse is small and appears helpless, but it is stronger than it seems. It’s persistent. It scrambles over the ground, looking for food, seeking shelter, just trying to survive. It is determined. It is smart and it senses fear. It recognizes power.” His hand reached for my jaw, a move I’d come to find affectionate in his continuous touching of me. “It’s so much more than I expected.” I sensed he was no longer talking about the mouse as an animal. I leaned into his palm and kissed him.
“See, unexpected.” The words were rugged and low, and his throat rolled as he swallowed.
“What animal would you select?” he asked, releasing me. He stepped back and took a seat on one of the upturned stumps.
“Does it have to be an animal, or could it just be something in nature?”
“I guess it can be whatever you want it to be.” He shrugged, growing bored with this concept.
“I’d choose lightning,” I said. His eyes widened, but he didn’t speak.
“It crackles from the earth.” My feet began to stomp, and I developed a rhythm that strangely matched a song popping up in my head. “Lost on You” by LP set the tone for me, and my hips swayed in addition to my feet stomping. My hands slipped up my thighs as my hips rocked side to side.
“And the tension builds,” I murmured, closing my eyes to the intensity of his stare. My fingers tickled over my belly, exposed by the tight tee that rose upward. I continued to move, skimming my flat palms upward, over my rib cage, and eventually cupping my own breasts. My eyes opened to focus on him, watching his chest rise and fall as he followed the movement of me. My palms came together and slid up my chest, rounding my neck and lacing into my hair. Raising the weight of it, I combed through the heavy locks.
“Then it breaks free.” My hands released, my arms rose, fingers extended. I slowly turned in a circle, placing my back to him and continuing to move with the rhythm in my head. My hands waved above my head.
“And it illuminates the sky.” My hips still swayed as my head tipped back and I looked at the darkening night rolling over us. A tempo beat in my head, encouraging the movement of my body, as I worshipped the sky above me. I was lost to myself for a moment—the cool sand at my feet, the midnight sky over my head.
“What did you learn from the lightning, though?” His voice was directly behind me, but he didn’t startle me. In fact, I felt his presence but refused to let it break the spell I was under. I wanted him to join me instead.
“I learned that even something as dangerous as lightning can be beautiful,” I whispered out to the ocean before me. “And even lightning has a weakness. It cannot be alone. Thunder always works in tandem with it.” Hands gripped my hips, and the heat of his body pressed behind mine. He joined my rhythm, his hips matching the sway of mine, and as one, we danced. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend we were at a night club. Perhaps The Front Door, on the dance floor, surrounded by a sea of people, where the only two that existed for us was the two of us. But I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t need to pretend. It was only us, along the shore of the ocean, the stars our spotlight, and we danced without a care.
He spun me to face him without missing a beat and increased the exaggerated tempo as if a DJ set a sultry, pulsating beat. He guided my body to move with his as his hands climbed from my hips to the sides of my breasts. He skimmed under my arms, out to my fingers, and in one smooth move, spun me away from him. Then he tugged me back, gyrating in a way that rivaled dirty dancing. I could have giggled in my awkwardness. I wasn’t one for public dancing, but this was Tack, and I gave in to him. Lost on him. He was fully engrossed in our dancing, rolling my hips to match his. Dragging my thigh upward, the dance had taken a new direction. He dipped me backward, kissed my throat and slowly lifted me. He moved us as one, released me again to spin away from him and then curled me back against his chest. We ended in the same position we started, my back to his front, and we swayed as he nibbled at my neck.
“Come inside the tent with me.” His voice turned husky. “Please.” The intention in that single word was clear. He was asking, and I could deny him, but I didn’t want to. I nodded to agree.
“I promise I’ll be gentle. We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered into my skin. I twisted to look up at him over my shoulder before reaching for his hand and stepping away from him. I walked backward, guiding him with each labored step on the soft sand. Reaching the open tent flaps, I ducked and led us inside. His pallet was on the ground, and I released his hand to climb to the center of his mattress. His eyes didn’t leave mine, and I tugged off my tight T-shirt.
“Sweet Jesus, Mouse.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked before, but his eyes swallowed the heavy weight of my breasts peeking out the top of my bra. He fell to his knees, jostling the mattress, and stripped off his own tee. “This okay?” he asked, but the desperate look in his eyes begged me to agree. “I want to be close to you, Juliet.”
I nodded, and he leaned forward to kiss me, taking his time to trace over my lips with his own, and then added his tongue to memorize the curl and curve. I sucked at him until his mouth became one with mine and I found myself pressed back to lay on his cool sheet. A breeze blew in from the open flaps and the air was refreshing. His hand hesitated at my waist before traveling upward and cupping one of my breasts over my bra. I moaned into his mouth as he squeezed and then slipped a finger under the cotton material. The tip of his finger flicked over the sharp peak of my nipple, and he broke the kiss.
“Let me take this off.” His statement was a question, a commanding plea. I nodded, and he nearly sighed with relief as his hand slipped behind my back and removed the clasps. Dragging the material forward, achy breasts fell, nipples standing at attention with the soft breeze. He took a moment to knead each one of them before dropping his mouth to latch onto one at a time. He sucked and he tugged, and my hips rose in search of his lower body. His palm lowered to the waist of my shorts, fumbling with the button while his mouth distracted me. Then he kissed a trail of sucking kisses and sliding tongue over my belly to the edge of my shorts.
“Please, Mouse.” He blew air onto my lower abdomen as he hesitated for my permission. My hands came to the side of my shorts and pushed them downward, giving him his answer. He completed the rest of the removal, taking my underwear with them. I lay naked in more ways than one before him, and he sat back on his calves to take in the view. The breeze blew up my open legs and the air tickled, adding to the pulsing need between my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful, Mouse, all spread out and waiting for me. I don’t know where to start. I want to please you in so many ways.” He didn’t wait for an answer as his hands massaged up my thighs and tugged my legs further apart. Fingers found their way to slick skin.
“You’re so wet already. Do you want me?” The betrayal of my body proved I did, but the question felt deeper. I could only nod, and the answer awarded me a thick digit thrusting forward. I sighed in pleasure, my thighs coming together to hold him in place. His free hand pushed them apart and the cool ocean air whirled between my legs. I moaned.
“Feel the air? You like that, don’t you?” I couldn’t speak. “Even the air wants to taste you.” The thought left me breathless, feeling light and one with nature. Sometimes, I felt as if I was part of the island, and this was one of those moments. He added another finger, and my thoughts muddled. It was only the soft wind, his warm skin, and the slickness between my thighs. My hips rolled, sucking him into me, clenching as he twirled inside me. With the addition of his thumb on my sensitive nub, I came hard and saw stars. An animalistic groan released as if telling the island, I ruled this land. His touch made me feel like a queen.
He parted my knees with his own slipping between mine, and my languid body panicked for a second.
“One more,” he whispered, lowering his head, and his mouth covered sensitive skin already wet and ready. He sucked at tender folds, twirled his tongue through my slit and parted me in a way I’d never been touched before. My fingers combed through his hair as my head fell back on his pillow. My body was no longer my own, but his to do as he pleased. My hips curled and my thighs fell further open. One of his hands slipped under my knee, holding me spread for his pleasure. He lapped at my core, making soft noises, as my body tremored, another quake rising, ready to break. I screamed at the release, lifting my head and pressing hands into his hair. His tongue didn’t stop until I cried out that I couldn’t take any more. He flattened it for a final lap and then kissed my inner thigh. The removal of his head brought cool air swirling up my legs, and my center pulsed again. Death by orgasm became a sudden fear.
“I want you so much, Mouse,” he said to my open core, and I clenched with the thought. His fingers traced lazy circles around my clit, building a slow tension, and my lower body reacted as if it wanted to reach for him and draw him in. “It’s building again, isn’t it?” He marveled at where his fingers touched me, and blew at my tender skin, adding heat to the cool sensation of the natural breeze. My head rolled on the pillow but I had no words.
Without missing a beat, he pushed down his own shorts, never releasing the finger touching me. He crawled between my thighs, gripping the sharp length of him between his hand, and holding his head at my entrance, slipping it up and down.
“Let me in,” he whispered, but I didn’t reply. He looked up at me, focused on my eyes. He must have seen something missing, something he didn’t like, because instead, he slipped over my legs to rest at my side. I wasn’t ready for more than this, and without realizing I had tensed, I relaxed. He returned his finger to his previous attention, and my hand hesitated to touch him. I’d gripped him before, allowing him to lead me in stroking him, but this time I wanted to explore. My fingers tickled up the stiff shaft, rising and dipping with each ripple along the taut skin. The smoothness of his head seeped with liquid, and I spread it over him, using it to moisten the tip and cover my palm. I cupped his heavy sac, squeezing them in my hand before encircling the heavy length of him again. In a slow jerking motion, I worked over him while he circled my core and the wind licked my lower lips. I came once again with a soft cry and squeezed him harder.
“Like that, baby,” he muttered, releasing my body to lay back and let me control his. I shifted hands, tipping up on an elbow and watched as I stroked him. It wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t hard enough, and my body hummed for command. I knelt and straddled his thigh, lowering my lips to kiss the tip.
“Fuck, Mouse,” he mumbled, a string of additional curses and pleas followed as his hand lazily combed through my loosening hair. My lips opened, and I slid down the length of him, letting my tongue lap over those tight ridges before drawing him deeper. I sucked him to the back of my throat and then worked my way back up to the tip.
“Again,” he hissed, and his leg shook between my knees. I pressed my wet core over his thick thigh and lay across him, my breasts straddling him as well. My mouth swallowed him, and I sucked at the thickness until he cried out, pulsing at the back of my throat. I released him slowly, my tongue lingering as it drifted upward until he called out with a chuckle, “Enough.”
Instantly, his arms circled me, and he dragged me level with him on his bed. His body lay half over mine, his face in my neck, his breath tickling. I felt his heart racing over my arm, and my free hand reached for his hair. Combing upward through the soft locks, I massaged at his skull.
“Don’t ever leave me, Mouse,” he muttered, his voice lazy and satisfied. The comment gave me thought—ten months remaining might not be enough time.