Uncivilized
Page 78
The anger finally seeps out of me as Moira stares at me with wide eyes over my rant. Her chest rises and falls in tune with my own.
“You don’t need me anymore?” she asks in a small voice.
Pulling her into my arms so her face is buried in the crook of my neck, I squeeze her and growl, “I do f**king need you. More than I want to admit. But not as an anthropologist. I need you the way a man needs a woman.”
“But you already have that,” she tells me. “I give that to you already.”
“Maybe I want more,” I tell her impulsively, because maybe it’s time to lay it all out on the line. Maybe it’s time to give a voice to these feelings I’ve been having.
“More?” she asks hesitantly as she pulls back to look at me, and it kills me to see the fantasy of a happily ever after in her eyes. Because I don’t see how I can give that to her, yet I know I’m not ready to let her go right now. I’m a selfish f**k.
Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I let out a breath and try to clear my mind. “Look… Paraila wanted me to commit to a year here before I considered going back. I know I haven’t exactly given in to that idea, but what if I did that? What if I just committed to a year here… with you… and we see what happens?”
Hope fills Moira’s eyes and I feel wonderful and wretched all at the same time, for offering her something I’m still deep down not sure I can fulfill. All I do know is that I don’t want her mad at me, and I want to be here with her right now with an absolute vengeance.
“Commit to a year here?” she asks.
“Yes. We can stay in Atlanta until you have to start back at Northwestern for the winter semester. We’ll move into my parents’ house because as much as I like and have come to respect Randall, I don’t like sponging off him. I’ll get a job. Then we can go back to Evanston when you have to start work. We’ll stay there until next summer, and I’ll decide what to do then.”
I know I’m hedging on that last statement because my mind hasn’t been changed. At least not as of this exact moment, because I still feel deep down in my heart that I need to return to Caraica. It’s my true home, and as much as I’ve come to care for Moira… as much as I think I’ve come to need her… my loyalties are still with Paraila and the tribe. The biggest part of my heart is still there.
Moira gives out a stuttering breath. Her voice is shaky when she says, “Okay. I think that’s a good plan.”
I smile at her then because, for now, this crisis has passed. “It’s a plan then.”
Moira surprises me when she grabs ahold of my face and kisses me deeply, plunging her tongue in, and I’m helpless to resist. I kiss her back, grateful to return to where we were… a mutual need for each other that we are both willing to satisfy by living in the here and now. I can do a year here. No problem. Not with Moira by my side.
Pulling her lips back slightly, Moira whispers, “I think I still might be a little pissed. I think you’ll definitely need to f**k that out of me tonight.”
I groan at the thought and wonder if I could just f**k her right here in the car, in broad daylight. My hand drops to the front of her jeans, and I work at her button. At the very least, I could probably get her off really quick.
Knock, knock, knock.
Moira springs away from me, whipping her head to the driver’s window, where a woman stands peering in at us. This is no doubt Lisa, as she has the same red hair and green eyes as Moira. She’s slightly older but they look remarkably alike, except Lisa is a little more rounded in the br**sts and hips, probably from childbirth. I’ve noticed that happens to some of the Caraican women after they’ve had children.
Moira doesn’t spare me another glance, just pushes the driver’s door open and flies into her sister’s arms. I watch them hugging through the window for a moment, reach down to adjust my hard-on, and then get out of the car.
I turn to look at them over the roof of the car as they smile at one another.
Lisa shoots me a glance and then looks back to Moira. “Sorry to have interrupted your… um… whatever it was you were doing. But I’ve been hanging out at the window watching you since you pulled in, and I couldn’t stand not giving my baby sister a hug another moment longer.”
Moira laughs and pulls her sister back in for another squeeze before releasing her. I shut the car door and walk around the back. When I reach the sisters, Moira introduces us. “Lisa… this is Zach. And Zach, this is my sister Lisa.”
Lisa reaches a hand out, and I shake it. “It’s a pleasure, Zach. Moira’s told me a lot about you.”
She then turns back to Moira and punches her lightly in the arm. “But apparently not everything. That was some kiss I was watching.”
“Stuff it, Lisa,” Moira says with good nature, and then reaches her hand out to take mine. I don’t hesitate a second, linking our fingers together in what is our first public display of affection around someone we know. It feels… nice… not to have to hide my attraction to Moira.
“Well, come on in,” Lisa says as she turns toward the flight of stairs that lead up to the porch of her stilted cottage. “Adam should be home soon, and I’ve got some steaks to throw out on the grill. The kids are so excited to see you.”
Almost as if on cue, the front door bursts open and two red-haired children… a boy and a girl… come barreling down the steps screaming, “Aunt Moira.” Moira told me in the car that the little girl is eight and the boy is just six years old. I watch as she falls to her knees and opens her arms, then both kids are crashing in to her for hugs.
“You don’t need me anymore?” she asks in a small voice.
Pulling her into my arms so her face is buried in the crook of my neck, I squeeze her and growl, “I do f**king need you. More than I want to admit. But not as an anthropologist. I need you the way a man needs a woman.”
“But you already have that,” she tells me. “I give that to you already.”
“Maybe I want more,” I tell her impulsively, because maybe it’s time to lay it all out on the line. Maybe it’s time to give a voice to these feelings I’ve been having.
“More?” she asks hesitantly as she pulls back to look at me, and it kills me to see the fantasy of a happily ever after in her eyes. Because I don’t see how I can give that to her, yet I know I’m not ready to let her go right now. I’m a selfish f**k.
Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I let out a breath and try to clear my mind. “Look… Paraila wanted me to commit to a year here before I considered going back. I know I haven’t exactly given in to that idea, but what if I did that? What if I just committed to a year here… with you… and we see what happens?”
Hope fills Moira’s eyes and I feel wonderful and wretched all at the same time, for offering her something I’m still deep down not sure I can fulfill. All I do know is that I don’t want her mad at me, and I want to be here with her right now with an absolute vengeance.
“Commit to a year here?” she asks.
“Yes. We can stay in Atlanta until you have to start back at Northwestern for the winter semester. We’ll move into my parents’ house because as much as I like and have come to respect Randall, I don’t like sponging off him. I’ll get a job. Then we can go back to Evanston when you have to start work. We’ll stay there until next summer, and I’ll decide what to do then.”
I know I’m hedging on that last statement because my mind hasn’t been changed. At least not as of this exact moment, because I still feel deep down in my heart that I need to return to Caraica. It’s my true home, and as much as I’ve come to care for Moira… as much as I think I’ve come to need her… my loyalties are still with Paraila and the tribe. The biggest part of my heart is still there.
Moira gives out a stuttering breath. Her voice is shaky when she says, “Okay. I think that’s a good plan.”
I smile at her then because, for now, this crisis has passed. “It’s a plan then.”
Moira surprises me when she grabs ahold of my face and kisses me deeply, plunging her tongue in, and I’m helpless to resist. I kiss her back, grateful to return to where we were… a mutual need for each other that we are both willing to satisfy by living in the here and now. I can do a year here. No problem. Not with Moira by my side.
Pulling her lips back slightly, Moira whispers, “I think I still might be a little pissed. I think you’ll definitely need to f**k that out of me tonight.”
I groan at the thought and wonder if I could just f**k her right here in the car, in broad daylight. My hand drops to the front of her jeans, and I work at her button. At the very least, I could probably get her off really quick.
Knock, knock, knock.
Moira springs away from me, whipping her head to the driver’s window, where a woman stands peering in at us. This is no doubt Lisa, as she has the same red hair and green eyes as Moira. She’s slightly older but they look remarkably alike, except Lisa is a little more rounded in the br**sts and hips, probably from childbirth. I’ve noticed that happens to some of the Caraican women after they’ve had children.
Moira doesn’t spare me another glance, just pushes the driver’s door open and flies into her sister’s arms. I watch them hugging through the window for a moment, reach down to adjust my hard-on, and then get out of the car.
I turn to look at them over the roof of the car as they smile at one another.
Lisa shoots me a glance and then looks back to Moira. “Sorry to have interrupted your… um… whatever it was you were doing. But I’ve been hanging out at the window watching you since you pulled in, and I couldn’t stand not giving my baby sister a hug another moment longer.”
Moira laughs and pulls her sister back in for another squeeze before releasing her. I shut the car door and walk around the back. When I reach the sisters, Moira introduces us. “Lisa… this is Zach. And Zach, this is my sister Lisa.”
Lisa reaches a hand out, and I shake it. “It’s a pleasure, Zach. Moira’s told me a lot about you.”
She then turns back to Moira and punches her lightly in the arm. “But apparently not everything. That was some kiss I was watching.”
“Stuff it, Lisa,” Moira says with good nature, and then reaches her hand out to take mine. I don’t hesitate a second, linking our fingers together in what is our first public display of affection around someone we know. It feels… nice… not to have to hide my attraction to Moira.
“Well, come on in,” Lisa says as she turns toward the flight of stairs that lead up to the porch of her stilted cottage. “Adam should be home soon, and I’ve got some steaks to throw out on the grill. The kids are so excited to see you.”
Almost as if on cue, the front door bursts open and two red-haired children… a boy and a girl… come barreling down the steps screaming, “Aunt Moira.” Moira told me in the car that the little girl is eight and the boy is just six years old. I watch as she falls to her knees and opens her arms, then both kids are crashing in to her for hugs.
