Becoming Rain
Page 79
I can only hope it’s harsh enough to make him leave this life behind for a new one. An honest one that he can be happy with.
I focus on the moss growing between the stones by my feet, unsure of what else to say except, “The world needs rain.”
“Well, I have you. Does that count?” When I dare raise my head, I find that his eyes aren’t on the trees or the pagodas. They’re on me. On me leaning against the arbor, on my long pencil skirt, on the low-cut tank top peeking out beneath my jean jacket, on my neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace today. You always wear that.”
My hand goes to my chest as I feign shock. “Oh, wow, I can’t believe I forgot that. I never do.”
“You almost done that with sandwich?” Luke peers up at the sky, squinting slightly as several drops land in quick succession on his forehead. “I think that downpour is coming sooner than we thought.”
“You afraid of getting a little wet?” I tease, wrapping half of my lunch back up and zipping it into my purse. I know he’ll eat it later.
“Are you?” I see the gleam in his eyes as he stands and my stomach explodes in a ball of flutters. Suddenly I feel like prey that’s about to be stalked, though I’m guessing Luke’s intentions are very different from that of, say, a lion stalking a gazelle.
Like a giddy teenager, I take off around the corner, weaving through the bushes and trees that I’m quite sure visitors are not allowed to touch, let alone run through. I make it all of fifteen feet before strong arms rope around my body and pull me down. Luke’s body breaks our fall.
“Well, this is kind of nice.” He peers up at the low-hanging bush that forms a thick canopy over us with a smirk. “Look at that. We’re totally hidden.” And then suddenly he has me on my back, pinning my arms down above my head with one hand. He’s right—we’re in a low-ceilinged lair, layers of broad-leaved branches cocooning us in a long, long tunnel.
Invisible to the unsuspecting eye.
The rain intensifies, and even under this protection, more and more droplets find their way between the overhang to land on us. Thank God I was smart enough to bring a nylon purse here and close it before I dropped it and took off. “Wow, it’s really coming down now. And it’s a cold rain. That can’t be good for your—”
Luke shuts me up with his mouth, shifting my thighs apart to fit against my body just right. I’m vaguely aware of the wet chill against my bare legs as Luke hikes my skirt up, until it’s pooling around my waist.
This is exactly what wasn’t supposed to happen today. But now that it’s started, I can’t stop it.
I don’t want to stop it.
“You good with this?” he whispers as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. I answer by intentionally stretching my thighs apart. The move makes him groan into our kiss, breaking free just long enough to tear the foil off a condom wrapper that he smoothly dug out from somewhere while I was writhing wantonly beneath him.
I hold my breath as fingers push my panties aside and I feel him lining himself up to slide inside me. There’s no foreplay this time and I’m okay with that. Just looking at him is foreplay right now. I haven’t stopped thinking about being with him again since—
“Hello?” a reedy female voice calls out.
Our mouths break free, and we lock wide eyes. From this vantage point, all I can spot are a pair of black-and-white polka-dot rain boots. I’m guessing the woman can’t see us. I’m hoping she couldn’t hear us. We both press our lips together and keep quiet and still as she calls out, “Hello?” again.
A long moment later, the rain boots begin shuffling down the path at an easy pace. I see my navy purse dangling next to them. “Shit, she has my camera and my phone and—” My words are cut off with a gasp as Luke pushes into me, his mouth against my ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll go get it back in a minute.”
“Only a minute?” I tease between ragged breaths. My eyes close as he fills me completely, until the raindrops don’t graze my face anymore, and the branches don’t scratch at my legs, and the cold, wet ground doesn’t touch my skin.
Until I’m consumed by the feel of Luke.
“Thank you so much. I must have set it on the bench and somehow forgot it when it started raining.” I check inside to find everything there, including half a sandwich.
“Eating is expressly forbidden in the gardens, you know.” Black-and-white polka-dot rain boots woman—the same woman who smiles and waves when I come here—now peers over her glasses at me, her tight bun making her look all the more severe.
“Oh, I know. That’s just there for later.”
“Right.” A sniff of disapproval escapes her as her eyes trail down my clothes—soaking wet. That’s fine. I was in the rain, without a proper rain jacket or umbrella. That’s what happens.
“Well, thank you for keeping it safe.” I don’t look back once as Luke and I walk hand-in-hand back to the parking lot. That’s when Luke bursts out laughing.
“It’s not that funny.” But I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“Actually it is. You should see yourself.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not looking so spectacular right now, either.” That’s a flat-out lie. Even with his hair plastered against his forehead and neck in wisps, and his shirt clinging to his body, blood still races through my limbs every time I think about touching him.
I focus on the moss growing between the stones by my feet, unsure of what else to say except, “The world needs rain.”
“Well, I have you. Does that count?” When I dare raise my head, I find that his eyes aren’t on the trees or the pagodas. They’re on me. On me leaning against the arbor, on my long pencil skirt, on the low-cut tank top peeking out beneath my jean jacket, on my neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace today. You always wear that.”
My hand goes to my chest as I feign shock. “Oh, wow, I can’t believe I forgot that. I never do.”
“You almost done that with sandwich?” Luke peers up at the sky, squinting slightly as several drops land in quick succession on his forehead. “I think that downpour is coming sooner than we thought.”
“You afraid of getting a little wet?” I tease, wrapping half of my lunch back up and zipping it into my purse. I know he’ll eat it later.
“Are you?” I see the gleam in his eyes as he stands and my stomach explodes in a ball of flutters. Suddenly I feel like prey that’s about to be stalked, though I’m guessing Luke’s intentions are very different from that of, say, a lion stalking a gazelle.
Like a giddy teenager, I take off around the corner, weaving through the bushes and trees that I’m quite sure visitors are not allowed to touch, let alone run through. I make it all of fifteen feet before strong arms rope around my body and pull me down. Luke’s body breaks our fall.
“Well, this is kind of nice.” He peers up at the low-hanging bush that forms a thick canopy over us with a smirk. “Look at that. We’re totally hidden.” And then suddenly he has me on my back, pinning my arms down above my head with one hand. He’s right—we’re in a low-ceilinged lair, layers of broad-leaved branches cocooning us in a long, long tunnel.
Invisible to the unsuspecting eye.
The rain intensifies, and even under this protection, more and more droplets find their way between the overhang to land on us. Thank God I was smart enough to bring a nylon purse here and close it before I dropped it and took off. “Wow, it’s really coming down now. And it’s a cold rain. That can’t be good for your—”
Luke shuts me up with his mouth, shifting my thighs apart to fit against my body just right. I’m vaguely aware of the wet chill against my bare legs as Luke hikes my skirt up, until it’s pooling around my waist.
This is exactly what wasn’t supposed to happen today. But now that it’s started, I can’t stop it.
I don’t want to stop it.
“You good with this?” he whispers as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. I answer by intentionally stretching my thighs apart. The move makes him groan into our kiss, breaking free just long enough to tear the foil off a condom wrapper that he smoothly dug out from somewhere while I was writhing wantonly beneath him.
I hold my breath as fingers push my panties aside and I feel him lining himself up to slide inside me. There’s no foreplay this time and I’m okay with that. Just looking at him is foreplay right now. I haven’t stopped thinking about being with him again since—
“Hello?” a reedy female voice calls out.
Our mouths break free, and we lock wide eyes. From this vantage point, all I can spot are a pair of black-and-white polka-dot rain boots. I’m guessing the woman can’t see us. I’m hoping she couldn’t hear us. We both press our lips together and keep quiet and still as she calls out, “Hello?” again.
A long moment later, the rain boots begin shuffling down the path at an easy pace. I see my navy purse dangling next to them. “Shit, she has my camera and my phone and—” My words are cut off with a gasp as Luke pushes into me, his mouth against my ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll go get it back in a minute.”
“Only a minute?” I tease between ragged breaths. My eyes close as he fills me completely, until the raindrops don’t graze my face anymore, and the branches don’t scratch at my legs, and the cold, wet ground doesn’t touch my skin.
Until I’m consumed by the feel of Luke.
“Thank you so much. I must have set it on the bench and somehow forgot it when it started raining.” I check inside to find everything there, including half a sandwich.
“Eating is expressly forbidden in the gardens, you know.” Black-and-white polka-dot rain boots woman—the same woman who smiles and waves when I come here—now peers over her glasses at me, her tight bun making her look all the more severe.
“Oh, I know. That’s just there for later.”
“Right.” A sniff of disapproval escapes her as her eyes trail down my clothes—soaking wet. That’s fine. I was in the rain, without a proper rain jacket or umbrella. That’s what happens.
“Well, thank you for keeping it safe.” I don’t look back once as Luke and I walk hand-in-hand back to the parking lot. That’s when Luke bursts out laughing.
“It’s not that funny.” But I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“Actually it is. You should see yourself.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not looking so spectacular right now, either.” That’s a flat-out lie. Even with his hair plastered against his forehead and neck in wisps, and his shirt clinging to his body, blood still races through my limbs every time I think about touching him.
