The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) (9 page)

As he walked across the room, she was entranced, mesmerized by the man who had shown her so much pleasure.  His body was perfect, every muscle perfectly molded onto his six foot plus frame. She loved how his hair fell in loose waves toward his face. She hadn’t responded to his question, not even sure what he had asked. When he asked again, she still couldn’t process what he said. Her lips were pursed together tightly and she had lost the ability to blink.

“Baby,” he said, this time breaking her out of the spell.

She snapped to a higher level of consciousness. “Huh?” was all she could manage.

“Would you like some water?” he asked, playfully over-enunciating the words.

“Oh, water. Yes, water would be great,” she said, a little embarrassed by her inability to communicate. She became mesmerized again when Owen reached up in the cupboard for the glasses. A small lamp on a table in the living room illuminated the open living space. Shadows danced across the sculpted muscles of Owen’s back and shoulders as his reach extended and his muscles naturally flexed with the movement of his arm. Stacie imagined tracing the tight lines of his toned body with her fingers. Then her tongue.

Stacie still lay across the couch, her body too spent to move, as Owen returned with the water. Her gaze shifted from Owen’s face to his body, and down to where he was hard again. He put the glasses on the table and pulled her off the couch, holding her close. “This is what you do to me, baby. I can’t get enough of you.”

She couldn’t get enough of him either. As awed as she was by his amazing, perfect body, it was the way he touched her that really had her thinking about just one thing. Even just being held by him, her breasts pressed against his warm skin, his thick erection hot against her belly, lit a fire of anticipation for what was coming next.

Stacie couldn’t wait for him to make the next move. She wanted to get things started now. Taking a cube of ice from the glass, she traced the muscles of his chest with it. His body stiffened, but that didn’t deter her.

“God, Stacie, that feels so good. It’s hotter than hell in here,” he said, his head falling back.

Hearing her name roll off his tongue with the heavy Cajun slur only stoked the fire she had burning for him. She could push him down on the couch and climb on top of him right now and have another shattering orgasm within minutes, probably less. That’d be fantastic except she wanted a turn at exploring his body. She wanted to touch every inch of him, an opportunity to show him the kind of pleasure he had so selflessly shown her.

Stacie steadily traced lower, down to the muscles on his abdomen. She drew with the melting ice up and down his body, going slightly higher and slightly lower with each pass until she was weaving an icy pattern from under his jaw to his inner thighs. Just looking at his body was arousing. Then he touched her. Stacie moved his hand away.

“Not yet,” she said with a smile, tracing her tongue along the hard line of his jaw, making him groan. “Now it’s my turn.”

~~~

Stacie lay awake next to Owen, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. The bedroom ended up being the best place for her to explore his body and now she was physically spent. Her mind still reeled from their hours of lovemaking. Holy Aphrodite, he had some stamina. It was as if he was a sexual super hero or something.  Her body ached again, much like it had the first night they were together, though she’d never complain. She was much too satisfied.

The alarm was set for 5:00 so that Owen could catch the 6:00 ferry to Bremerton. It was ten minutes to five. She thought about waking him, making love one more time before they parted. Instead, Stacie’s mind wandered from the memories of their bodies together to the mysterious painting hanging in the living room. Owen’s breaths were deep and steady. She could see movement behind his closed eyelids. He was obviously dreaming. She snuck out of bed to take a closer look at the painting.

In the living room, Stacie stood on the cold tile in front of the gas fireplace, studying every brush stroke. It didn’t look professionally painted, though it was beautiful nonetheless. A gift, he had told her. From whom, she wondered. 

When the hairs stood up on the back of her neck and a tingle travel down her spine, she knew Owen was behind her, his silent approach betrayed by that strange ability to sense his presence. She didn’t startle when he pressed his hands into her waist and ran his lips along the side of her neck. A wave of heat rushed through her body as she felt his warm breath skate across her skin. They were both still naked. His hands came around, cupping her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples. 

“Baby, you weren’t in bed when I woke up. I thought you snuck out on me again.”

She struggled to form words on the pleasure-filled gasp. “Tell me more about this painting,” she said, still not taking her eyes off it.

In an instant she was spun around and pressed against the wall. His hands held her wrists firmly over her shoulders. He spread his legs wide and bent slightly at the knees, pressing every part of his body against every part of hers. There was no air between them. It was just his body and hers, passion radiating between them.

His mouth caught hers in a passionate kiss before she could say anything more. Owen lifted her off the floor and Stacie wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her back to the bedroom. Once again, he was inside her before she hit the bed. How does he do that? Then the realization struck. Her body tensed, knowing there would be consequences if she let this go.

“Condom,” she insisted.

Owen pulled away quickly and reached for the box on the nightstand. He slipped a condom on with lightning speed and was back inside her before she missed him.

“Sorry baby, I got carried away. “

Stacie was current on her contraceptive shots, so she wasn’t worried about getting pregnant. She still had to play it smart since she hardly knew this guy, except for his amazing body and how every sense awakened at his touch. Even though she wanted to, she couldn’t trust that he didn’t have a sordid past.

Seconds later, the alarm sounded. “Shit,” he groaned.

“You need to get ready for work,” she said, stroking his arm.

“How about we move this to the shower.”

Stacie smiled as he swept her off the bed and into the bathroom.

When they finally left the condo, they had to run to make it to the ferry in time. Stacie wore the same clothes and shoes from last night, managing a slow jog despite the heels. Owen held her hand, letting her set the pace.  When they got to the terminal, Stacie remembered she had Owen’s multi-ride pass and gave it back to him. He swiped the card twice under the machine sensors and two tickets printed out.

Once on board, Stacie led Owen to the top deck and they took seats facing south. On previous trips, she hadn’t taken in much of the view of Alki Beach or the southern part of Seattle that accommodated the airport.
When the morning air made her shiver, Owen shed his pea coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.  He held her close as she felt herself nodding off. Her head dropped and she jolted awake.

“Didn’t get much sleep, huh baby?”

“Try none,” she said, nuzzling into him. “Someone kept me awake all night.”

“Not all night,” he replied. “I managed to catch a couple hours of z’s. I’m pretty sure you weren’t complaining about being kept up though.”

“I’m not complaining now, either,” she said through a big yawn. “But I am going to go home to sleep for a few hours.”

“You ready to tell me where that is?” Owen asked.

“In the city,” she responded, not ready to reveal her proximity to his home. She still hadn’t decided how far she was going to let this relationship with Owen go. If it was just a fling, he didn’t need to know. If it was more than a fling, she wasn’t ready to get that close.

Physically, though, she couldn’t get close enough. Snuggling with him here on the ferry was exciting. His body was so warm, even through his cotton shirt. His arms wrapped tightly around her, warming her entire body. She felt herself dozing off again and let her body completely relax against Owen’s.

The captain’s announcement that all passengers must disembark the ferry startled Stacie awake. Owen was still holding her. When she looked up at him, he kissed her lightly.

“Will you meet me again tonight, here on the ferry?” he asked.

“Are you going to miss the boat again?” She nudged him playfully in the side with her elbow.

He chuckled. “The shuttle van got a flat tire before we left the yard last night. The spare was flat too. I ran and got here just after they closed the gate. The attendant wouldn’t let me on.”

“I saw you,” she said. “I watched you walk away.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. “I’ll try not to miss the boat tonight. Just to be safe, why don’t you meet me in the fountain park. If I’m late, we can get a drink in Bremerton. Or an ice cream. Maybe tonight we can get a little more sleep.”

“I’ll be here, but I think tonight I should sleep in my own bed.”

“So we’re off to your place tonight, then?” he asked with a smile.

“I meant alone.”

“
Hey, girlfriend!” Jenny’s greeting was
friendly, yet it still made Stacie jump. “Sorry girl. Wow, you’re really involved. That’s beautiful, Stace. Guess last night was inspiring.”

“You have no idea,” Stacie muttered while catching her breath. The new smudge was easily fixed with a few heavy brush strokes. From her perch on the balcony, Stacie could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, so it shouldn’t have startled her when Jenny made an appearance.

“I didn’t mess you up, did I?”

“No, it’s fine. That’s the joy of working with oils. They blend well.”

“I’m surprised to see you out here. I figured you’d be crashed out after another hot night with the Cajun Sex God.”

“I need to crash, but I needed to paint this first.” Stacie was replicating the technique used in Owen’s painting and she wanted to do it while the image was fresh in her mind. She had painted the entire canvas a dark forest green and was now blending in a layer of royal blue on the upper half of the canvas – to create the sky. She planned to use a lighter shade of blue on the bottom half of the canvas to create water. This was going to form the basis for the background that she needed to bring an emerging scene to life.

Stacie was aware of Jenny watching her. Normally someone peering over her shoulder would bother Stacie. This morning she was too inspired to care. After a few minutes, she heard Jenny puttering in the kitchen. Stacie finished the final strokes for this layer of paint and brought her kit inside.

Jenny spooned out a heap of plain yogurt and plopped it over fresh fruit as Stacie came into the kitchen. “Shit, I hope I didn’t disrupt your groove,” Jenny said, offering her the bowl of fruit and yogurt.

Realizing that the emptiness in her stomach was hunger, Stacie gladly accepted the bowl. She’d have preferred a whopping plate of pancakes smothered in home-grown maple syrup, but fruit and yogurt was probably better for her waistline.

“No, it’s fine. I got done what I wanted to. My goal now is sleep.” She grabbed two spoons out of the drawer and placed one at the table for Jenny who continued to scoop yogurt into her own bowl.

“Rough night?” Jenny asked, smiling with one brow raised.

“He’s not a man. No man has stamina like that. He’s like the freakin’ Energizer Bunny. He just keeps going, and going, and going.”

“So the best-sex-you’ve-ever-had saga continued?” Jenny took a sip of her coffee and sat back, patiently waiting for the details.

“I’m pretty sure last night…or this morning,” she paused to do math in her head, “or the five-plus hours, was even better than the first night.”

“Five-plus hours? Geesh, girl, how are you able to walk today?”

“Complete euphoria,” Stacie said. She leaned back in her chair, eyeing the painting over Jenny’s shoulder. The sex was definitely euphoric, but it was the memory of Owen’s painting that had her upright and conscious.

“He has this painting hanging over the fireplace,” Stacie explained, shifting her gaze from the painting to her friend. “It’s like a scene out of my stories…out of my head. It’s a little freaky.”

“Who painted it?”

“I don’t know. Owen said it was a gift, he doesn’t know who the artist is. It’s beautiful. Maybe a little amateurish. Not that I’m a pro.” Stacie took in a deep breath, analyzing the strokes she’d seen before Owen had found her.

“If I had to guess, I’d say a child painted it. Or someone with a troubled heart. It’s a very simple scene, trees on an island. There’s one really tall pine tree. Despite its simplicity, there’s obvious confusion and chaos. It looks like it’s layer upon layer of paint. There are gaps in some areas, so you can see how deep the layers run to the canvas. It took a lot of paint to create the depth it has. I think that’s what gives it the aura of confusion and chaos.”

Stacie took a deep breath, suddenly aware that she was rambling. “Anyway, it was inspiring. I had to come home and paint.”

“Are there initials on it? Like a signature or something?”

“No, nothing on the front. I was going to look at the back to see if maybe something was written on the back of the canvas.” Stacie smiled. “but Owen…distracted me.”

They laughed together. Owen had a way of distracting her that was not only effective, but very, very enjoyable. Jenny didn’t give her an opportunity to reflect on Owen’s distracting behavior before she inquired further.

“So what else happened last night? Did you find out anything more about Owen?”

Stacie replayed the evening for Jenny, summarizing the sexy parts even though Jenny would love the explicit details. Selfishly, Stacie wanted to keep the passion she had shared with Owen for herself.

“There is something strange about him,” Stacie explained to Jenny as she recalled Owen’s approach last night and again this morning. “Remember how I told you about the tingling sensation in my neck? It happened again last night…and this morning. It’s like I can sense him. I don’t hear him, then he has his hands on me, but it’s not startling because I’m expecting it. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

Jenny slammed the cup down on the table. “Girl, you’ve got it bad,” she said, a big smile lifting her cheeks and narrowing her eyes.

Stacie didn’t return the smile. “I do not.”

“Convince me then. First, you say he’s not a man, then you tell me that you have multiple orgasms just from his touch, and now you’re saying you can sense him. There’s only one answer to this puzzle…YOU HAVE GOT IT BAD!”

No way was Stacie going to admit to that. She’d been fighting it, the comfort she felt with Owen, the deeper feelings that were surfacing. She kept telling herself that it was the amazing sex and nothing more. Intimacy had a tendency to do that, make you think you’re feeling something that you’re really not. At least that was what she’d learned from her friends. She’d never experienced it herself.

Stacie had held Greg off for a year before she’d had sex with him. When they finally did have sex, it didn’t do anything to deepen her feelings. In fact, she’d wondered what all the hype was about. Of course, now that’d she’d been with a sex god, she understood the hype. So yes, it was just great sex. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

That’s also why she missed Owen. It wasn’t the way he held her or the comfortable silence when they walked and held hands. Or the way he said her name and called her baby. It definitely wasn’t the way he looked at her when she was talking or the warm smile and sincere interest he took in her. Even though it’d only been a couple of hours since she left him in Bremerton, it wasn’t her heart that felt empty. No, it was the lust she had for him, throwing off the rest of her emotions, stirring up confusion. Amazing sex could do that to a girl.

A dull pain surged across her forehead. Sleep. She really needed to get some sleep, otherwise her head would start throbbing.

“Anyway,” she said, trying to change the subject. “I’m going to bed. Except for snoozing on the ferry this morning, I haven’t slept at all.”

It was 2:00 when Stacie startled awake from her dream. Tears poured from her eyes as the dream replayed in her conscious mind. She hadn’t had one of these nightmares in weeks. They’d taunted her repeatedly in the days following her friend Audrey Farr’s car accident. When Stacie left Maine, they had stopped. Along with the headaches.

Her head pounded now, though, as her subconscious revealed Audrey’s face. It was covered with blood, lifeless eyes wide open as her head rested on the steering wheel. Glass was everywhere, small shards from the windshield scattered throughout Audrey’s hair, embedded in her pale cheeks. Stacie remembered staring at her, calling her name, waiting for her to blink. But Audrey didn’t blink. She was dead.

Stacie had been relieved when the nightmares stopped. When she’d first had them, she wondered if they were memories. Once they stopped, she hadn’t thought any more of it. The accident wasn’t something she liked to think about.

If the pillow had been a living, breathing thing, she’d have squeezed the breath right out of it she was clutching it so tightly. She rocked back and forth, trying to find some comfort in the soft mass. Audrey’s death had left a lonely ache in Stacie’s chest. She’d love to have her back, alive, teaching, speaking her simple wisdom.

If that were the case, Stacie wouldn’t be here in Seattle. After all, Audrey’s death had prompted her to leave Maine. Besides Jenny, Audrey was the only other person who had encouraged Stacie to pursue her dreams.

“Life is short,” she would say, “you never know when you’re going to get hit by a bus. Don’t wait to pursue your dreams. You’ll only end up with regret.” Audrey’s sister quoted those words in a eulogy during the memorial service.

Stacie took the words to heart and decided that if she continued down her current path, marrying Greg and gaining tenure at the school, she would always live with regret. She realized she didn’t love Greg, had only been trying to love him for a long time. As much as she enjoyed teaching and working with the kids, she knew that wasn’t her passion. Her passion was art—writing and painting.

Letting the tears fall for a few minutes, Stacie then reeled the emotional storm back in. She squeezed the pillow until she got into the bathroom, then dropped it to splash some cold water on her face.

“There’s no room in your life for this crap,” she scolded her tear-blurred reflection.

She’d shed enough tears for Audrey and no amount of crying would bring her back. The reality was that Stacie didn’t want to change things. Seattle was where she wanted to be. Where she needed to be. A painful event brought her here, but the past was just that and there was no point dwelling on it.

Stacie dried her face and sat down at the small desk in her room to log on to her notebook computer. She wanted to check ferry schedules again and learn more about Bremerton. The fountain park looked like a nice place to paint while she waited for Owen. Maybe grab a bite to eat too. She knew there was a Starbucks near the terminal. A Frappuccino sounded fantastic.

She’d avoided e-mail since arriving in Seattle, and now found two messages from her mother, wondering what was in Seattle and when would she come home.

Stacie sighed. Her mother just didn’t get it. She wasn’t coming home. Seattle was now home.

It was obvious that her brother had finally provided the whole synopsis on Stacie’s departure from Maine. Besides Jenny, Keith was the only one she’d told about her relocation. She’d emptied her closet, left the diamond ring on the kitchen table, and hit the road. Greg was at the school. Her parents were at work.

Even though it was a horrible way to leave and she knew the consequences would catch up eventually, Stacie couldn’t force herself to care. The stop at Keith’s law office in Portland was planned. Her older brother loved her enough not to talk her out of the move. In fact, he’d put a credit card in the console of her Cherokee. Just in case.

With the headache now fading, Stacie decided not to respond to her mother’s inquiries. She was only going to go off on a rant and it would have absolutely no effect on Marion anyway, frustrating Stacie even more and most likely bringing the headache back.

Stacie turned her attention to the next message in her inbox, from Greg. Talk about triggering a headache. She thought about deleting it, but decided just to leave it unread. “I’m not going to let him bring me down today.” 

Then there was the message from Keith. When she saw lawsuit in the subject line, she knew it had to do with Audrey. The Farr’s were filing a lawsuit against the car manufacturer because the airbags didn’t deploy. Since Stacie’d been in the car, they needed her to file a statement and wanted her to file suit with them. Stacie had walked away from that horrible crash with only a head contusion and a concussion. Audrey was pronounced dead at the scene. So was the moose the car had hit.

A lawsuit wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring Audrey back. Stacie had mixed feelings about the whole thing. She was angry with Audrey’s family for trying to make Stacie relive that horror. But she could also understand that this was their way of getting closure. Stacie couldn’t help them. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to relive the nightmare. Her brain just wouldn’t let her.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the City of Bremerton website. Sitting there and mulling over the past was a waste of time. No, she’d made a pledge to herself that once she crossed the state line from Maine into New Hampshire, none of the remnants of her past life were allowed to cross that line. What happened in Maine stayed in Maine. So now, it was time to find something exciting to fit into her day, because that was what this new life was supposed to be about. Pursuing dreams and having a fantastic adventure.

Stacie discovered an arts district in the city, walking distance from the ferry terminal. Probably not enough time today, she realized, knowing that it was an hour to cross the sound on the ferry and she was at least an hour from being ready to go.

She decided to go back to painting. The oils she had put down that morning dried into a beautiful dark blue sky and lighter blue water. Now it was time for the island. Before getting started, Stacie grabbed her digital camera and took a few shots of the painting. It was easy enough to create, but it would be impossible to duplicate exactly. Fortunately, she didn’t need to. Water moves, skies change. That was part of the charm her series portrayed.