Paradise Tempted: The Beginning (Paradise Stories) (2 page)

Placing the tumbler glass before him, he smelled the clear liquid before throwing it back in one swallow. I waited. He'd be sorry. His eyes stayed focused on mine as I dared him to cough, to sputter, or to react. He didn't. He asked for another, only this time he seemed more interested in nursing it. I wandered back to the end of the bar and began reading again.

"Whatcha reading?" he blurted.

I looked up to find dark brown eyes questioning me. I lowered my red-framed glasses to look at him more intensely. A short sleeve t-shirt hugged his large biceps. He looked tan, but not ethnic; a scruff of facial hair, that looked trim, short dark hair, shaved close to the head. His presence screamed danger, but his eyes begged for something else.

"Human anatomy," I replied. He nodded.

"Know what that is?" I snarked without thinking. I don't know why I baited him.

"I might know a thing or two about it." Those dark eyes roamed my body as if he had X-ray vision. He'd taken a mental picture of my insides and knew I was inexperienced in the ways of anatomical intimacy.

"Well, name two," I laughed.

"Two?" he questioned, as he sipped the whiskey in front of him.

"A thing or two of the human anatomy?" I replied, standing taller from my leaned over position.

"Penis and pu...."

"Alright," I responded loudly, holding up my hand to halt his words. "You're a virtual doctor." Sarcasm dripped from my tone.

"The doctor is in." He had a lopsided grin that was a bit endearing and I had to giggle. "What would you like to learn?" he inquired.

"For real?" I questioned.

"For. Real," he whispered loudly.

"Fine. Are those real?" I eyed his large biceps that seemed accentuated as he balanced his elbows on the bar.

"Are those?" He glanced obviously at my chest. I should have been insulted. I was insulted, but he was so blatant, I laughed in a nervous giggle. I nodded.

"Lesson over," I said trying to sound stern. I replaced my glasses and glanced down at my book. The words swam before me. There was silence followed by a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. I didn't respond.

"I work out. A lot. Yes, they're real." He glanced down at his right arm, and I noticed the twirl of a tattoo over his bicep and down his forearm.

"What else do you want to know?" he asked.

I shook my head. I wasn't interested in continuing this conversation. I shook my head again and reread the same sentence three times before he spoke again.

"Come on. Ask," he demanded.

"Fine. Do you take drugs? Is that how they got so large? I mean, it seems unnatural. Do they even feel...real?" I barked in a rapid rumble of words.

He blinked at me and the dark eyes turned lighter as he laughed at me.

"No, I don't take drugs that enhance my performance." He winked at me before continuing in a more serious tone. "I work. Hard." His emphasis on the last word was not lost on me.

I nodded and looked back at my textbook. He ordered another drink, and I poured him a smaller sample of the Passion. The rousing women were getting louder and a few sent glances in the man's direction. My thoughts included images of him with one of them. I didn't like the idea that they would use him for his body to ease the pain of their heart.

We only offered light fare after the dinner hour, so I wasn't responsible to feed anyone. My big friend at the bar was going to need something despite his large size. Grandpa's Passion was strong. I excused myself to the kitchen, to rid my mind of the woman who approached the bar to hit on the buff man, and also to make him a sandwich to absorb the alcohol.

I returned to find the woman removed, and I gently placed the plate of food before him. He looked up at me, and those dimming brown eyes questioned me.

"You need sustenance if you’re going to keep drinking Grandpa's Passion," I explained. I returned to my books, and I felt his smile on my back. He took a few bites before he addressed me again.

"Got another question?" he asked. I looked up uncertain what he meant. "I'd like to help you with your anatomy," he said. I didn't miss the undertone, but the image of him with one of the recent divorcees came into my mind again. It made me jealous.

"I do have a question, actually. I've always wondered if a man as large as you has a small...you know...I mean it's unnatural to be that big. I just sense it's to compensate for something else...that's small."

He choked on a bit of his sandwich and he reached for his drink, finishing the remainder in one swallow. He was still trying to recover when I reached the end of the bar and instinctively began pounding on his back. He continued to cough as I slowed the pounding to a circular rubbing of his large upper back.

He sat up and I removed my hand. With lightning speed, he gripped my waist to prevent me from moving away from him. His thick fingers dug into my narrow hip bones and he tugged me toward him.

"You owe me for that," he teased with a smile. "I could prove it's not true, but I think I'll just take a drink with you, for now."

I felt his rejection. A man like him would never be interested in a girl like me. I was the quiet type with a sarcastic mouth: the girly type with naughty thoughts. I was the inexperienced woman with ideas of wayward desire.

I figured why not. I wasn't getting any studying done anyway. I poured myself some Passion, thinking what could be the worst thing to happen?

I'd treated the girl like the divorcee who wanted to fuck me. I acted like she was mine for the taking. Somehow, I sensed that hadn't happened.

"What's with the ring?" I asked Kursch, as I rolled it over in my palm. It had to be at least three carats. It was thick and gaudy, and an image of slipping it on Sofie's finger flashed across my mind.
Sofie
. That was her name.

"You don't remember?" The bald man I called my uncle laughed as he asked. "Bought the ring off the divorcee last night. The one that wanted you for the night."

I blinked. I remembered the tall blonde with fake boobs, who sauntered up to the bar. That's when Sofie left the room. I didn't like the fact I couldn't see her. I really didn't like the fact the woman who came to hit on me was older, drunk, and desperate. She propositioned me. She wanted me to rid her of her memories. The only thing I could think to do was take her ring, not her maidenhead, which was long gone. I somehow sensed my wallet was thinner for the error.

"How did Sofie have it?" I asked, but I knew the answer, as well. I'd asked her to marry me; she accepted. It was all in jest. We pretended we were married for the night. The night. I was still fuzzy on the rest of the details.

I looked at the rumpled bed coverings and flung the sheets back. There was no evidence that I took
her
maidenhead, instead. No proof that she was even a virgin. I couldn't remember being with her in that way. I felt if I had been with Sofie, I would remember. I touched my neck, rubbing hard the back of it, and recalled the impression of her lips on it. She had kissed me tenderly.
Had I been rough with her?

I didn't think so. In fact, I wasn't convinced we'd had sex.
And why not?

I needed a run to clear my head and relieve some pressure on my lower anatomy. Why were those words familiar?
Human Anatomy
, that's what she was reading. Sofie teased me, took the offer for a drink, and the conversation continued. I vowed to prove to her my human anatomy below was real, and she promised to thoroughly examine me....once we were married. She was teasing me, so the look on her face when I pulled out the ring was precious. For a full minute, those blue eyes turned liquidy and the expression on her face was bliss. Then the reality hit. It wasn't a real proposal.

She took the ring, sliding it down her finger in a way that made me wonder how those same fingers would feel slipping down over me. Delicate and thin, I imagined her being tender and sweet. I hadn't had sweet in...ever. I couldn't recall sex being tender with someone. I was rough. Women liked me to be. It fit the personae. The fighter.

"Ever hear of MMA?" I had asked her at one point, and to my relief, she had not. She would have no idea who I was. For one night, I could pretend, too. Pretend I wasn't Cain Callahan. Cobra. The snake, who in a fight had killed a man.

"Is that a school?" she'd responded. I almost laughed until I saw she was serious. Her blue eyes sparkled behind her glasses, and she looked sexy in a hands-off-the-teacher sort of way. Red was a good color for her as the frames matched her shirt and her lips. The perfect Cupid's bow curved her top lip, and I swallowed hard as I wondered what she’d taste like.
Had we kissed last night?
I was certain we had.

I took the run at full speed through the vineyards behind the inn. Kursch found me this place to hide. He claimed if I went to the house in Seattle, my father could too easily find me. I couldn't stay in Vegas. Kursch suggested some place no one would ever suspect. A prized fighter at a vineyard villa? It was rather comical. My big body contrasted with the subdued atmosphere of the secluded inn.

Sweaty and breathing heavy from the exertion, I found Sofie sitting on the café balcony overlooking the vineyards. Books were scattered across the table. Her head was bent in concentration. Her neck was exposed as her long tresses were piled on her head. My mouth watered as I stared at her light skin. My lips twitched and recognized that they had been on her.

As if she felt my stare, she looked up and over in my direction. Seeing me, she blushed softly. It was my new favorite color. Her skin glowed a soft pink and I wanted to lap it up with my tongue. My mouth watered again. She turned away from me.

I didn't like her not looking at me.

"More reading up on anatomy?" I asked as I approached.

"Nope, I had enough of a lesson this morning," she teased.

This morning, while I held my dick upright for her to see.

"Pretty impressive, wasn't it?" I quipped.

"I've seen better," she snipped then bit her lip. The blush returned and deepened. She was lying.

"Hmmm...lucky bastard," I retorted.

She laughed. "Not really. He wasn't exactly alive."

My facial expression made her laugh, so she explained.

"David isn't exactly real."

"David? Who's David?"

"The marble statue by Michelangelo. David," she emphasized his name with an accent then slid a book toward me. I glanced down to see the ghostly white image of a sculpted man. It wasn't a textbook she held, but a small travel pamphlet.

"That doesn't look like studying." I smiled. She returned the smile and my heart stopped. Literally. Her smile was the epitome of sunshine and it melted my cold heart.

"It's not. I'm planning our honeymoon."

My breath stopped. She must have seen something in my face because she burst out laughing. I let out the breath I held and sucked in the warmth of that laughter.

"I'm kidding," she quipped.

As her giggling subsided, I felt myself drowning in her blue eyes that teased me. I wasn't struggling like a doomed man. I was slipping into the abyss of the blue and letting it take me down.

She was sweet: too sweet. The nectar of a fruit I had not tasted but desired. My mouth wanted a sample. I leaned forward slowly, ready to strike. My eyes held hers until I'd bite. One nibble of those lips was all I wanted. It would be wrong, but I was a bad person. Eyes locked, like the snake I was, I sensed her fear. Then I kissed her, and she stunned me instead.

The softness of her lips did not compare with my tender attack. I intended to shock with the delicate kiss, but her response included sampling me in return. That was to be a strike, yet I was the one stung. I drank in her fresh flavor, and she sucked out my poison. She was Eden; I had sinned and liked it.

I pulled back slowly, running my tongue over her lips, hoping not to miss a drop of her. Our foreheads touched as I breathed more venom on this innocent girl in my continued hope to escape myself.

"Italy for a honeymoon sounds perfect."

He couldn't be serious. In fact, I knew he wasn't. This was pretend. He wanted to be someone I was certain he was not. And I...I was willing to go along like the blind fool I was. I was willing to make believe a man like him could be interested in a studious girl like me. While top of the class, I felt rather average at Preston University. I went there for a degree in Biology and Human Anatomy and was in the process of applying for medical school. I hadn't wanted to go too far away from home as my grandparents would need me. My parents were dead, and my grandparents were all I had. Perhaps it was more so that I needed them.