Her forehead presses to mine, sweaty and warm. Loose curls drape her shoulders, catching in my fingers as I trace the bones on her spine. We’re connected in every possible way. Even our eyelashes flutter together with flirty intent as my cock remains buried inside her. I may as well burrow in deeper and admit she owns me.
We catch a breath, staring quietly at each other without wanting to break the connection. What started out as two strangers fighting an attraction, has escalated into a bond thicker than blood ties. Richer than wealth. Hungrier than starvation.
There isn’t a single thing I’d change about my feisty hummingbird. From her beguiling Scottish accent to her easy company.
It’s allher.
She embodies everything I desire and never knew I had to have. We have an affinity that most people will never experience in a lifetime.
My brain goes fuzzy, and my pulse thrums with life.
For the first time in forever, I feel alive––and confused.
I’m driven towards redemption, but the pull of ownership, belonging and having beija flor by my side forever, is taking over.
If only life was that simple.
I’d rather live a life in the shade, a life of loneliness, than be responsible for her death. That acceptance blisters my secret wish to be with her, sinking my mood under the weight. When the time comes for her leave the Oasis, I’m not sure if I’ll have the fortitude to stand back and watch.
8
There are many things in this world I’ll never be able to understand. The man stroking my belly with brutally burned skin is one of them.
He’s not perfect, and I don’t pretend to be either. How could I be when I’m lying with the enemy? Content and peaceful. The same beast who pushed me away and then found me again. One act nullifies the other because here we are. Impossibility possible.
Dante finally permits peaceful sleep after we hold each other inside a tent of fresh white netting guarding his bed. His breathing turns shallow, and tense limbs relax.
He's resting peacefully on the bed beside me. A powerful man with well-defined muscles and cruel demons, who wrestles with trust. This is the biggest gift of all. His unwitting sleepy surrender. Exposure to potential violent deeds. No matter our past, I’d never betray him. Not when he’s finally setting me free.
I’m conscious of the trickle of semen between my thighs as I stand. Bruised body parts expel the sticky substance, knowing it’s not fit for purpose. He’ll never father a child, nor does he want to. I’m both thankful for that fact and uncertain for my life outside of the jungle.
Padding around the raised dwelling, I inspect the home of a ruthless man with dual personalities. Before tonight, I would have said he was three quarters unpredictable and one quarter wishing to be normal. And now, I think he’s fixated on a life ruled by carnage. Murder is the priority. There’s no point rolling the truth in glitter to make it more appealing. The man is vying for blood and retribution—he’s given up trying to be the judge and jury, moving straight to the post of executioner.
Posies of dried leaves hang from beams. Clay pots of vibrant flowers scatter flat surfaces. It’s an odd display for such a masculine character. The more I study the varieties, the more I realize he’s categorized them into groups. These plants aren’t for show, they’re strategically positioned. They serve a purpose.
The treehouse is a blissfully romantic hideout for such a violent soul. It’s not obvious from the enchanting woodland retreat that a cold-blooded killer exists within its calm interior.
Covering the floorboards with bare feet and only unruly curls to blanket my shoulders, I take it all in. On the teak stained wall by the seated area is a pinned photograph of a striking young woman with sparkly eyes. Those vivid green eyes remind me of the powerful man who’s trusting me to let him sleep without danger. There’s a softness to her features. An innocence. She stares into the room with perpetual love for the brother who asked her to smile for the camera. Instinctively, I know it's his sister. His world. His reason for destruction.
I swipe away a selfish tear and follow the wild calls of the tropical forest. If my sweet sister was murdered, who’s to say I wouldn’t fight back with bullets and isolation. I’d do anything to protect my family. It’s human nature. A natural born gut reaction.
Over the treetops, a skiff of burning orange promises the light of a new dawn. Color creeps into the clear sky and casts beams of radiance for growth and renewal. It’s only now, on this majestic terrace, overseeing the great expanse, that I believe I’m truly free. The stunning hues of tangerine and raspberry pink welcome, rather than warn. This is the reason I ventured across the globe and picked a career over relationships. My one true passion.
My hands rest on the barrier separating me from a fatal drop. I steadily inhale musky, humid air, closing my eyes for a beat to listen to the natural world. Morning bird song. A waking jaguar roars. Playful monkey chatter. My pulse thrums with life.
I’m alive.
“Beija flor.” My eyelids ping open. Of all the surrounding noises, his approach was undetectable.
I turn to face him, leaving behind the stunning view, but finding something so much more worthy. Dante’s hair is tousled, and roguish dark bristles smatter his angular jaw, stretched to a heart-stopping smile. Peridot eyes lock onto mine, making me nervous as he gets closer. Taking a necessary breather from direct eye contact, I sweep my gaze to his toned thighs and back up to his silken chest that’s so sculpted and smooth. I burn up when he stops short of kissing me.
I don’t want to leave.
“Good morning.” He pinches a few strands of my hair and glides his fingertips down the length, making me shiver. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I smile up at him, unbalanced by his closeness that never fails to electrify the butterflies in my rib cage. “I woke up early and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You looked deep in thought. What were you thinking about?”
