Bastian Page 6
“Nothing is never enough, so long as you’re the one being impressed, love.” I took her hand and helped her in the passenger side. “These are always complicated,” I told her, referring to the belt that was actually more like a harness. She obligingly handed me the left side and I got her situated.
The truth was, they were no more complicated than a larger scale car seat, but I wanted to touch her, and as my hand came dangerously close to her center, I feared I’d been found out.
“Enjoy that, did you?” she mused, once I had taken my seat and handed her a set of headphones.
“Not one of my finer moments, but can you blame a man?”
She laughed, adjusting the mouthpiece once the headpiece was comfortably on. “I hope you haven’t planned a fun-filled afternoon of sky diving…”
“The thought crossed my mind, but no. This is faster than driving, so sit tight and we’ll be there in no time,” I promised her.
The whirring sound of the blades evened out once they were up to speed, and we were airborne moments later.
The giant X of the landing pad beneath us grew smaller and smaller as I flew us upward, over buildings and spires. The picturesque city was beautiful from this rare view, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“This is magnificent,” Alana crooned. “You can see everything. Ohh, there’s the Archives building!”
“And just north of that,” I gestured, “the limestone building, see?” She nodded, spotting it. “That’s my apartment.”
“You live in the city?” she asked. “And that close?”
“I could practically stalk you if I wanted to,” I said, chuckling.
“And here I was, naïvely thinking the city had a low crime rate. I’ll be sure to install a lock on my office door,” she mused.
Suddenly, naughty thoughts of lying her back on her desk, inching that sexy pencil skirt up and burying my face between her legs caused me to faulter with the controls. We were completely safe still, but my actions caused a slight jerk in the otherwise smooth flight.
She gasped, a sharp intake of breath and braced herself against my thigh. I kept my eyes on my task, though I could see her crane her neck towards me slowly like an owl perusing a field.
I glanced at her hand on me, white knuckles showing. I quite enjoyed the feel of her touch but decided to make a joke to ease her apparent mounting fears.
“You’re welcome to keep your hand there, love, but I thought we’d save the heavy petting for later.”
And as I suspected she pulled her hand away like she had just touched a hot burner.
I felt like a hot burner too. The more I was around her, it was impossible not to feel heated with desire for her. Alana was the most dangerous type of woman: unaware.
She was unaware of it all. Her beauty and the affect it had on me. She was brilliant, humble about her job title and all it entailed to achieve it. And her damn mouth, Christ…
She was witty, sassy and more so, she was damn intelligent with her comebacks and observations. She was the package deal.
Her brazenness towards me drew me to her. I wanted to know her, to know everything about her—intellectually and intimately.
What sounds did she make when she was in the throes of passions? Was she a quiet, but generous lover or did she have a wild side?
I was desperate to have her reveal herself, to uncover her deepest desires, wants and needs.
There’d be time for that, I told myself. We had all day to spend together, leisurely and privately. Focusing on that, I continued north until we reached our destination.
“This is beautiful…” she voiced, awe in her tone.
We had flown to Tibana Castle, a remote estate in the northern part of the country. As pretentious as it sounded, it was simply a ‘summer castle’ that we frequented, much like the Windsor’s had Balmoral.
The grounds were manicured, verdant and expansive. The castle was small in comparison to Devmont, a modest medieval sentinel that was situated near the lake.
As we landed, we caught sight of the lake that was always my favorite feature of the grounds, and as a kid I would spend hours rowing and rowing, finding each vantage point more spectacular than the next.
But the reason I chose this for our date was the tiny island that was in the middle of said lake.
“Tibana Castle?” Alana asked, turning in a complete circle, taking in the sights. “Most couples go to dinner on a first date, you know…”
“Dinner is included. It just happens to be in an opulent setting.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of my idea. But she still hadn’t seen the best part.
Instinctively I took her hand in mine and led her to the edge of the lake, where a natural sand bank created the smallest of beaches. A white rowboat sat on the sand with two oars parallel to the hull.
Alana was quiet, soaking in her surroundings and the beauty of where I spent a lot of time in my youth.
Rain had fallen the day before, a more frequent occurrence being as north as it was, creating a mucky barrier from the grass to the sand. Without thinking I scooped Alana in my arms and trekked across the expanse until I reached the boat.
Her arms went around my neck quickly, fearful of being dropped. “I’ve got you, Alana. Didn’t want to risk your shoes getting muddy.” She was a slight thing, her lithe frame easy to carry, and the weight of her in my arms felt right.
Her face was so close to mine. She knew it too, and for a moment our eyes locked on one another.
“Bastian?” Her voice was but a whisper, gently echoing off the serene water like a sigh.
We were a few feet from the boat, but I had stopped, simply holding her, relishing in the feeling of the closeness. “What is it, love?” I asked.
“You’re going to make it disappointing for me to be with anyone else.”
Though I knew she was complimenting me, the comment stung. “Who said there’d be anyone after me, Alana?”
“Oh.” Shyness overtook her, the brilliant topaz of her eyes hidden beneath thick lashes.
“Come on,” I coaxed, “there’s something I want to show you.” Gently placing her down in the boat, I pushed off the shore and began to row, the gentle lap of the oars creating a natural soundtrack.
The lake wasn’t large, more of a glorified pond, and I hadn’t been on it in years. It felt good to be here, to have Alana here with me, a calmness settling over us from the serenity of the environment.
Birds warbled nearby, their melodic sounds adding to the background, a pair of white snow geese were enjoying the water as well, and the weather was pleasantly mild.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“A little,” she confessed. “I had a heavy breakfast, but it’s starting to wear off. Do you come here often?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Once a year, and not nearly as long as long as I’d like to. When I was younger, it was easier. Less commitments I was needed for and it was here that I was able to be a kid. The press has never been allowed here, not even for approved interviews. It’s my family’s sanctuary. The one place we can let our hair down and have some of the pressures swept under the rug, even if only temporarily.”
“It’s so quiet here. What a wonderful place to grow up.” Sadness crossed her eyes, gone as quickly as it came.
Wanting to know what memory changed her features, I settled with simple questions. “What’s your story? Where did you grow up? Are you close with your parents?”
“I don’t really have a story. I was raised by my grandparents just outside of Slaždin. My father was nothing but a sperm donor, and my mother was unfit to raise me…so, my grandparents took custody of me after I was born, and they were the only parents I knew. And damn good ones at that.” Her petite hands were folded in her lap and with her last admission, she wrung them, conveying nervous energy.
“Were?” I asked gently, already connecting the dots.
“Yeah, my grandmother passed two years ago and grandfather died of
a broken heart three months later. The doctors called it heart failure, but I know that wasn’t entirely true. He was insatiable and doting with his love for her, so when his heart gave out, it was him surrendering his time here to join her once again. I miss them every single day.”
I regarded her, feeling privileged that she would share something as personal with me.
“They sound lovely,” I said truthfully. I gave her a sympathetic smile, understanding the gravity of their relationship. My parents were very similar, a rarity for such a high-profile couple.
“Do you believe in a love like that, one that can transcend space and lifetimes?” I asked. I did; I witnessed it when my father would retell the story of choosing his one true love over everything else, and in the subtle, adoring looks my mother would give him, like the two of them had endless secrets only they were privy to.
And when you were in love, you shared things that were deeply profound, like communicating without uttering a word. Love wasn’t something that necessarily had to be shouted from the rooftops; the key lay in the shadows, the unspoken areas where you proved your loyalty, adoration and devotion through actions, not words that could easily sound hollow and insincere.
“Absolutely. It’s funny,” she pondered, “in my line of work, it’s about finding the truth, facts, evidence. Very little is open to interpretation. But when I think of them, of their love—something that can only be viewed through interpretation, it goes against everything I was ever taught. Yet, it was right in front of me, how could I deny it? I saw it. It was real.”
“Sounds like there was plenty of evidence,” I said warmly.
We spoke of our upbringings, how she had always been interested in history and reading, and how I had always been interested in trouble.
“You did what to your nanny?” she giggled.
“Well, I had a naughty streak, you see. My parents had a banquet at the castle, children weren’t allowed, so I was to spend the evening upstairs with her.” I had stopped rowing, needing my hands to complete the story. “But I was convinced that whatever the adults were doing was much more fascinating than playing in the nursery.
“My nanny, dear old girl, she was a lightweight and I put a few nips in her tea. It wasn’t long before she was out, and I was out of bed. I snuck down to the party, wearing nothing but my pajamas and a robe, acting like I belonged among the guests as an equal.”
“How old were you? And how much trouble did you get in? I was right about you—you are a scoundrel…”
“Perhaps,” I loosely agreed, shrugging my shoulders sheepishly. “I think I was around seven or eight and I didn’t get in trouble for joining them, I got in trouble for spiking her drink.”
“You’re awful,” she mused.
“You’ve no idea…”
We’d reached the island. After tying the boat to the small dock, I helped her out. Once on land, the dock gave way to a worn path that hugged the shore which was lined with trees, before veering into the center.
I held Alana’s hand behind me, the path only wide enough to be single file. I slowed and came to a stop and Alana joined me, so we were side by side. And I waited.
“What is all this? You did this…this, this is what you had in mind?” She was happy, I could tell, her eyes dancing around the entire set up.
The center of the island was small, but treeless, an open area no larger than a private veranda. The surrounding trees shaded us from the waning sun, creating a leafy canopy overhead.
A weathered table with two chairs sat in the middle, with place settings and various candles. Hundreds of small lanterns were placed in the lower hanging branches, illuminating the entire area, a private, softly lit bubble.
I suddenly felt nervous, not wanting to disappoint her, not now, not ever. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect.”
Relief washed over me. Not once had I ever felt nervous around a woman before, but then again, I’m not sure I’d care about someone as much as I did Alana.
I pulled a chair out for her and found the champagne in the cooler that also held the food.
Another perk of being me? Having proper staff to pull this off. I was grateful to their expertise and quite impressed myself with how well it turned out.
Raising my flute, I made a toast. “To this. To us.” The vintage Brut was deliciously cool, and I had found I’d worked up quite the thirst. Alana had taken a sip, and I found I couldn’t look away from her delicate throat as she swallowed. It was a slight movement, dainty even, but I don’t think I’d ever appreciated a woman’s throat so much before.
The column of her neck was pale and smooth, reminding me of marble but with the softness of satin. I was convinced I’d die if I wasn’t able to nuzzle her there, lap at the gentle curve of her collar bone before nipping my way up to her lobe, then repeating the motions on the other side.
I was all for equality and there wasn’t an inch of her I wasn’t dying to sample. My cock threatened against my jeans, the thicker fabric doing nothing to conceal how she made me feel.
“This is magical,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you for all of this.” The soft flicker of the candles danced off her skin.
“I’m glad you like it,” I replied.
“Like you were worried.” She laughed and took another sip of her champagne.
“I was.” Seriousness laced my words. “I’ve never put much effort into the dating scene. Never really had to chase anyone before. It’s always been easy.” Her demeanor changed and she crossed her arms defensively, but I pressed on. “And then you showed up with that sharp tongue of yours, and it’s like you woke me up. You’re worth the effort. You’re worth the chase and worth fighting for. Wherever this takes us, know that.”
She relaxed her arms, but her body language was still stiff.
“Are you real? I mean, I’ve been trying all week to pretend I know what’s happening. I keep telling myself you’re just a man. But you’re so much more than that, especially when you say things like that. You’re positively swoon-worthy, and yes,” she says levelling me with a glare, “I know how absurd that sounds.”
She had gotten up and began pacing, needing to expel the energy that had suddenly consumed her.
“But I told myself after our texting marathon that I was going to take a blind leap and trust in whatever this is between us. I can’t describe it, but I know you felt it too, when we were under the folly. Things like that don’t happen to people, but it did to us.”
I rose, following her movements with precision. Predatory even. Slowly I moved towards her. Alana took a step back and was met with a tree trunk, effectively stopping her.
“I did feel it, Alana,” my voice low, using her name in seriousness. Another step closer. One more and she’d be within reach. “I’ve felt a lot over the past few days. Things I didn’t know could exist.” I took the last step. Her pupils were dilated, adjusting to the dusk that had settled over us, and not once did she take her eyes off me. “And to answer your question,” I continued, “I’m very much real…”
My hand cupped the gentle curve of her lower back as I pulled her possessively against me, doing nothing to hide my throbbing erection as it pressed into her stomach. I traced the edge of her jaw with a fingertip, testing her reaction before sliding my hand behind her ear and cradling her head, angling her so I could properly taste her.
Her eyes were liquid amber pools, their depths unending in the candlelight. She searched my face, a fire growing inside. And then my mouth was on hers. And, Christ Almighty it was divine.
I’d meant to be gentle, go slow, make it a worthwhile first kiss, but she drove me mad and felt too damn good to lessen my pace. She met me, matching the intensity, her lips soft and warm against mine.
She was as greedy as I was, and when I pushed my tongue past the seam of her lips, she moaned into my mouth hungrily. How I didn’t come in my pants, I’ll never know, but it was the single most erotic sound a woman had made in my presence.
Pulling back, I indulged myself. Small kisses along her jaw turned to frenzied ones, and I got my first taste of her creamy skin. Alana’s hands were on my back, roaming before gripping my shirt as I sunk my teeth in the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder.
“Oh my god,” she panted. “Bastian…” It took me second to realize she was patting my back, trying to get my attention.
“Did I do something? Did I hurt you?” There was a mark forming on her shoulder, but I hadn’t broken the skin.
Shaking her head, she said, “No…you didn’t hurt me.” Her breathing was less labored, but I could see she was hesitating to tell me something. “I like you, Bastian. A lot. And I want this, I do. But I don’t think I can give you what we both want, at least not tonight.” She hung her head, ashamed at her admission.
“I’m not going anywhere, love.” I leaned my forehead against hers, keeping her body pressed to mine. “There’s no rush, ok?” My thumb found her mouth and I traced her bottom lip with what I had hoped were reassuring strokes.
“You don’t think less of me?” I’d never seen her look so vulnerable, and I didn’t like it.
“On the contrary. How could I think so little of a woman who knows what she wants, or more importantly, what she needs?” I admired her for stopping, for having the courage to say something. I would never take advantage of her, but I also didn’t need her convincing herself of something she was on the fence about, only to regret it in the morning.
“Thank you.” Her voice was so small, so fragile. I took her in my arms, resting my chin on the top of her head. She turned, lying her face in the hollow of my neck. As much as I wanted her tonight, this felt better. It felt right.
We stayed like that for quite a while, listening to each other’s heartbeats, the rhythmic sounds of our breathing and when it all began to mingle with the crickets, I suggested getting her home.