He urged me to take a shower and come downstairs. He wanted to tape my hand and suggested we have dinner together in the kitchen.
“You’ll get through this, my boy,” he said with a half-smile. “Just you wait and see.” He laid out a fresh set of clothes on the bed, then left.
We ate together in the kitchen, but I left my plate largely untouched.
“Thanks for dinner, Gus,” I said after a while. “I’m going to get an early night.”
Worry lined his face, but his eyes still brimmed with kindness. “Good night, mate. Things will look brighter in the morning.”
I seriously doubt that,I thought sourly, before returning to the solitude of my new room and locking the door behind me.
I sat, frozen in place, looking out over the water. Memories of the promises I’d made to Ivy echoed through my mind.
“I promise I’ll make sure we can be together, no matter what it takes.”
I still wanted to keep my promise, but how could she know that? A piece of my heart had torn away, leaving a gaping hole in its place.
If she’s listened to that horrific message, I can’t imagine what she thinks of me now.
When the cool air turned my skin cold to the touch, I moved back to the bed, retreating into a cocoon of memories from nights on boardThe Canoe.
Thoughts of us together played like a movie through my mind, sending a trickle of warmth through me. Surrendering to the memories was like a drug, dulling the sharp edge of everything.
As I pictured her letting down her hair, her face aglow on that last night, an ache of longing stirred low in my body. I saw her lips curl into a sensual smile.
A deep groan escaped me as the ache became impossible to ignore.
I gripped my erection, sliding my fist in slow, rhythmic strokes as my need for her built steadily.
Her hair tumbling in waves down her back flashed into my mind. The memory of the soft curve of her breasts in my hands—soft and responsive—and the slow brush of my tongue against her skin pulled me under.
My breath grew heavy as I closed my eyes, my head falling back.
Fragments of that night—our bodies twisting as one, the taste of her, our lips crushing together, and the way she melted into me—drew me deeper.
I moved my hand in urgent strokes, my grip tightening as heat surged toward release. I let out a moan as bittersweet waves of pleasure rolled through me, my body shuddering.
But the memory of the voicemail I’d left rose up and engulfed me, twisting any pleasure into something darker.
A sharp ache. A wound I couldn’t see.
I may never see her again.
9
CONTROL
KARLOS
Karson arrived at the office so full of hope after I’d had him collected from the marina.
He was such a child. So unrealistic.
My son didn’t understand the big picture. He expected all of the benefits without the sacrifice, without putting in the sweat and tears.
He needed to understand that you couldn’t have it all, not without giving up certain things. How could he expect people to respect him when he insisted on associating with underachievers?
He’ll have to learn the hard way. I’ll make sure he does. I owe him that as his father.This is for his own good… even if he can’t see it yet.
