His eyes darkened, and he turned away from me.
“Caracas, Venezuela, then Chicago, then Warsaw, Poland, then back to Chicago. Mom’s dead, Dad’s a dick, there’s not much there. My life has mostly been studying and then working.”
“And football,” I said almost teasingly, “and thank the lord or else we would all be back on the seaweed and mushroom diet.”
At my smile, he turned away, the tips of his ears red.
“Yeah, now it feels like all of that practice paid off,” he said, before he pulled himself a little straighter, his ears, if possible, burning even brighter.
“Maybe notallpaid off. I-I was promised an award…” he trailed off, and light bulbs clicked on in my head.
He had liked it. It hadn’t been just a physical response. The gremlin in me licked her lips, urging me to pounce on him, wheelbarrow be damned, but normal, cautious Mina was still concerned. I needed him to say it so the uncertainty, guilt, and worry wouldn’t eat me alive.
“What did you mean,” I started slowly, “when you meant you were a cliché?”
He stood up properly and chewed lightly on one of his kissable, full lips.
“I mean, like, CEO with a dead mom, is into, you know, it’s-it’s pathetic kinda,”
I wanted to make him say what he was labeling as ‘you know,’ but I wouldn’t push it.
“I don’t think it’s pathetic. You know that I’m doing this weird test relationship with Ettore and Jin Woo. Many people would call me weird and pathetic. Is that what you think?” I asked him solemnly, cutting my words evenly.
“No,” he said decisively, “I don’t think you’re pathetic.”
I hmmed, before I continued, quietly gratified by his thoughts of me.
“I’ve never wanted to grip someone’s neck before, to demand things of them, like I want to with you. I could blame it on my lack of medication, I could blame it on being on a deserted island, and the stress of finally leaving a job that felt like it was slowly suffocating me one moment at a time,” I felt myself veering away from the point. I brought myself back, “But I will not. Would you let me experiment with you? Try something new?”
I could see him decide, but in that same decisive way that he apparently made every decision, a quick ponder, and then a direct, fast answer.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
The gremlin was happy, and the wheelbarrow was as clean and sanitized as it possibly could be. I dropped it over the fire without fanfare.
“Ok. Come,” I ordered, placing a hand on my hip.
And he did, he came to me in two long, smooth steps. I could see the eagerness in him, in the way that he slightly cocked his head to the side as if to better bare his neck to me.
“What a good boy,” I murmured, as I stroked the glorious, tan planes of his neck, “listening to me so well, doing exactly what I wanted.”
His eyes were wide and fluttering. I stroked the side of his face, keeping my hands on his neck, pressing my pointer and middle fingers against the throbbing pulse point under his skin. I dug my fingernails slightly into him, scraping lightly, and watched him shiver, the muscles rippling in his jaw.
“What do you want as your prize?” I whispered into his ear, slightly out of breath myself. There was something about the way he smelled, under the odor of the island, the smoke from the wheelbarrow, and sweat and pine. Underneath all of it was something like strong mint tea with lemon juice, rich and tangy, sharp and deep; it made me want to devour him even more.
“Whatever you think I should have,” he half-huffed, half-whined.
I walked us back to the wall of the cabin, his back made a solid thump against the wood, and I fought against the urge to pull him back and then push him into it again, just to hear that sound once more.
In a second, I had three of my fingers pressed against his lips.
“Open,” I ordered, and when he did, I dipped my fingers in, caressing the wet, slickness of his tongue, the silky sides of his cheeks, feeling his anticipatory trembling beneath me. Once my fingers and palm were wet, I pulled my hand away from his mouth.
“Unzip your pants,”
He did, so rushed to open his pants that he almost pulled his button off. I dropped one of my hands to where he was struggling with the zipper, stilling him.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said softly, gently, “don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, ok?”
