Chapter 7
Three days after Ennis, Christian and Ana had woken in a tiny town on the north-west coast of Ireland.
They had travelled a great deal of the west coast of Ireland, and driven more in three days than they had for the entire trip, which left them both exhausted at the end of each day. But Ana was adamant to stick to the itinerary, and so, they kept going. They had spent two nights in various places on the west coast, and they were beginning to miss home. Knowing that they were flying home from Belfast in just five days left them excited and regretful. Had they wasted potential alone time? Had they grown closer? Would they ever get over the undeniable lust that consumed them?
When they woke that morning, they knew they only had a few hours before they would have to be on the road to make it to their next bed and breakfast. Finally, they would be visiting The Giant's Causeway, a natural wonder Christian hadn't stopped talking about since the day she had won the prize trip. Christian was excited all morning, rushing Ana out of gift shops and insisting that if they didn't leave before a certain time, they would miss seeing The Causeway at sunset. Ana assured him that 'it would be okay, they would see it the next day', as they had the whole day free to explore the wonder. It was against her nature to be so relaxed, but she knew they had an extra night at the Bed and Breakfast close to The Giant's Causeway. Still, Christian was pushing to get in two nights, and arrive early that day to take a glimpse before they spent the next day there, properly exploring. He reminded Ana more than once about photo opportunities; if that day's sunset was hidden behind clouds, at least they would have next day. But if the next day's setting sun was hidden behind smoky grey, at least he would have the winning pictures from the previous day's sunset. His obsession with photography had not changed, but their obsession with something else had.
They no longer spend nights apart, even when were vacancies at their accommodation. They didn't worry about sleeping too close, or the limited space between them on the mattress. Before, they had always wished for separation. Instead, they began to loathe the amount of space between them in bed. The metre that had always seemed like inches was suddenly miles wide, and they couldn't stand to be further apart. Sighting Ana's bra in her suitcase not longer made Christian unpleasantly uncomfortable. And always, always, they signed in as Mr and Mrs Steele.
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They had been driving for less than an hour when Christian stopped the car. It was only early in the day, before noon, but the sky was a dark grey and did not resemble the bright mornings they had been fortunate enough to enjoy the past week. They were on their way to The Giant's Causeway, and Ana would have expected Christian to be a tad more excited. But he had gone into one of his moods.
It was odd, and a character trait Ana never knew Christian possessed. In Seattle, Ana had only ever met editor Christian, piano player Christian, and friend Christian. They were cheerful, bright characters, and even when Jack Hyde had managed to bring him down to his worst, he had never turned into such a calm character.
He wasn't angry or depressed when he fell into a mood. Rather, Christian was quiet and calm, and incredibly delightful. A mystery of silence would fall upon his shoulders, and his mind would escape while his body continued its existence. Ana thought it was odd, but incredibly remarkable. A man with such energy would allow another self of his to dissolve for moments, sometimes hours. For too long would have been torture for Ana, but graceful moments were a blessing.
When Christian murmured that he wanted to take some pictures, Ana glanced around the outside of the car and realised that they had stopped by a cemetery. Ana smiled and decided she needed to stretch her legs.
Christian took off with his camera towards the small graveyard, and Ana waited by the car. The air was cold when it first hit her face, but it was colder after fifteen minutes. He still wasn't back. He had rushed her all morning. She decided it was only fair to rush him.
Ana found Christian in the third row of headstones, squatted before one of the older graves. The ground was spongy, dirty and threatening. It offered to swallow her up, but Ana stood tall and made her way across the graveyard and closer to Christian.
"Christian, this is disgusting." The heel of her boot dug into the sunken earth. "Christian?"
His gaze was trained on a headstone. When she looked closer, Ana found the headstone to read of a morbid fatality. Christian was standing over the grave of an infant and mother, both murdered by childbirth.
"That would just be the worst thing," Christian whispered, and Ana raised her gaze to watch his distressed expression. "It makes me feel nauseas thinking about it." He was so passionately set in reality. "That poor man."
Ana thought for a moment. "This may sound ridiculous to you," Ana started, "but I feel that maybe you can sympathise...because you experienced a very similar loss." Christian looked up and glared sweetly into Ana's eyes. "Your relationship with Leila died the same day you lost your baby girl."
Christian swallowed, and his pupils dilated. "You remembered she was a girl?"
"Of course." Ana wrapped her open coat tighter around her petite body. "She haunted my dreams, Christian." Christian looked frightened, as though he had seen a ghost. Ana couldn't smell death like he seemed to be able to. She could smell the wind, and the leather of Christian's new jacket."Your little girl scared me."
"Why?" he prompted without falter, and he stood to stand by Ana.
"Because she kept me from you," Ana selfishly explained. "I was school-girl-crazy over you, Christian. And she made me believe that my vision of our child would never exist."
"With copper hair and blue eyes."
"Yeah," Ana agreed. "copper curls." Her heart sighed for her dream of their future. A possible future. But Christian had a past.
"I'm so sorry you lost her," Ana strained to speak.
Christian's stare became wider, impressed by honesty and truth. "It was darker than it appeared on the surface," he divulged. He looked down to the headstone before him, his eyes wide. "She would have been perfect." Ana gulped and nodded, but Christian didn't notice her agreement. "All I ever wanted was to be a father," he whispered to the headstone, as though the love of his life were buried beneath his feet. "And then I fell for you," he spoke. I'm not dead, Ana's soul cried out. Love me, fight for me. I'm here and I need you. "And everything changed," Christian softly confessed.
Ana didn't know what to say. She wanted to hold him, but he scared her. She didn't understand such passion, and if she tried, she was afraid it would overwhelm her and she'd die of loneliness.
"Come on, Christian. Let's go," Ana insisted as she began to turn away. "If we don't keep driving, you'll miss seeing The Causeway at sunset."
His hand reached out and grabbed Ana's, his strength undeniable. He seemed powerful. There hadn't been a car for miles. A ridiculous thought fluttered through her mind as she felt the pressure of his fingertips press into her wrist. He could do anything to you out here. He could murder and bury you and you'd never be found.
Ana met Christian's gaze, and he brought his palm to her jaw line, caressing the skin protecting her delicate bones.
"I've never seen anyone that looks like you," Christian murmured, and Ana blushed profusely. "You have confused me for so long." Her head felt heavy, and in Christian's sorrowful eyes, she found desperation. "And now I can finally say that I love you." Her heart pounded beneath her ribcage as she met his stare. "Do you love me?" he prayed with question.
She swallowed. "Of course."
Trust.
"When we get back to Seattle, I'd like you to move in with me, Ana," Christian pleaded, his tone calm. The fire burned bright in his eyes. "If you want to."
She wanted a life. But more than existence, she wanted a future with Christian. "Okay."
He nodded, his expression expectant and only allowing relief to glisten in his watery eyes. "Okay." His frame stood taller and straighter. "Let's go."
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They ate the lunch they had bought that morning after breakfast, at a tiny bakery by their bed and breakfast. They ate while driving, and didn't stop until well after midday, when they reached a rundown road stop off the main highway.
"Hi. Can I have two teas? One black with no sugar and the other with milk and two sugars."
The young boy at the counter flashed a flirtatious smile at Ana. He was gorgeous, Irish, and so awkwardly young. Ana grinned. He appeared to have found himself a temporary crush.
Ana looked down to her shoes. No male young author had ever looked at her that way. And she was always dressed to impress at SIP. Always incredibly professional. She didn't look attractive standing in a road stop in jeans, a thick coat and barely any makeup.
When she looked up, the blonde boy was watching her from his peripheral vision, a smirk tugging at his lips as he poured Ana's order. He raised his gaze to outside, watching sneakily through the window as Christian chatted away on the phone. It was obvious Ana was travelling with Christian, and it was obvious the boy was making sure Christian was out of sight.
"You look a lot younger than your husband." The boy played, his accent strong and slightly different to that of Southern Ireland. "How old are you?"
The child was confident. Ana swallowed, and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. "He's tired. And I'm twenty-three," Ana lied.
"You like American men?" He asked as he handed Ana one cup.
"I like him." A blush rose to Ana's cheeks. "And you don't know he's American."
The young man smiled widely, and winked. He had nerve, but Ana enjoyed the attention. He accepted the change Ana gave him and handed her the other cup, 'And that one's for your husband."
She bit the insides of her cheeks and pursed her lips in a smile. Ireland seemed to offer many opportunities.
When Ana stepped outside, Christian still had his cell phone pressed against his ear and a thousand watt smile slowly drifting across his expression. She wondered if he looked that happy when she was on the other end of the line. She had been speaking to him all day, but he had been withdrawn and quiet. Speaking to his sister always made him happy.
Ana waited patiently until Christian hung up.
"How was she, Christian?" Ana handed him his tea, and they took a seat on one of the wooden benches outside.
"She's great." Christian looked down to the lid of his tea and his eyes lit up. "Avery keeps asking for me, apparently."
Ana smiled. One day he would make a wonderful father. He already cared so much for his family. A family of his own creation would surely bring him to his knees in joy.
When the door swung open and the young boy who served Ana emerged, Christian's arm instinctively shot out to rest upon the back of the bench. Possessive. Ana's heart swelled. It wasn't her imagination. Ana could feel Christian's fingertips gently tracing her shoulder. Had Christian watched the encounter inside the store?
"I don't think we're going to make it to The Causeway before close, Christian," Ana commented. She could feel the boy's eyes on her as he gathered litter off a table nearby. He obviously liked older women. There was no way he believed she was twenty-three. He would know. He looked barely eighteen.
"It's okay," Christian shrugged. "The weather isn't spectacular, anyway."
Ana felt that Christian's gaze was trained on the boy. She liked feeling wanted when there was nobody to hurt.
"I get the vibe he likes your hair colour, Ana," Christian chuckled, "I get the feeling he likes it quite a lot." Ana blushed. The boy couldn't stop looking at her, a flirtatious and daring grin too old to be found on his teenage expression.
Christian felt strong, empowered in contrast. He sipped at his milky tea. "Maybe I should tell him you're my wife," he suggested.
Ana smiled and shook her head. "Now that would be silly."
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The rain pelted wildly against the window.
They had arrived after four pm and decided that they weren't willing to brave the rain in order to see the Giant's Causeway at dark. Settling in after dinner, they watched a movie and snuggled up in bed, a space between them that persisted all night. Two was company, and three was a crowd. Their good friend, Tension, rested between them as they laughed at an American comedy film. Tension decided to stay when the lights were out and the rain was louder against the foggy glass of the window.
"What's it like Christian?" Ana mused, resting awake beside Christian. His arms were folded behind his head, his biceps bulging against his grey undershirt.
He turned his head, to cast a smile her way. "What?"
She glanced towards the ceiling. "Making love..."she trailed off.
Silence was theirs. "Ana," He stressed her name. "It's one of the most beautiful acts on earth."
He felt Ana shift on the bed, and she swivelled her hips to get comfortable, Tension taking up too much of the shared space.
"If we made love...what would happen?" she gushed as she met his gaze. Christian continued to glare at her until she insisted, "Tell me."
"Well, we'd kiss," he whispered, his voice slightly husky. "And we'd hold each other." He paused. "And then we'd move together."
"Uh huh." Ana rolled onto her side and gave him her undivided attention. "But what would really happen?" she cutely pressured.
He cleared his throat. "We'd kiss."
"You already said that," Ana countered with a grin.
"I'm not finished." Christian shifted onto his side to face her before he continued. "We'd kiss. You'd kiss my lips, my chest, and my arms. And I'd kiss you everywhere. We'd go slowly at first, work our way up to it," Christian assured Ana. "I'd touch you, and-
"Where would you touch me?" Ana interrupted.
Christian closed his eyes. He drew a deep breath and felt the air catch fire in his lungs. "Between your legs. Where it feels really good."
A whimper escaped her lips. It was crazy. She wanted his thigh between her legs. She needed pressure. "Would it make you feel good?" she questioned.
"Yes. And you'd be able to feel how wonderful it made me feel." Her eyelids fluttered. She knew what he meant. "Maybe I'd take your hand, and guide it down, to touch me." He couldn't stop. "You'd wrap your legs around my waist, really tightly. I'd push into you, over and over again. You'd moan once, and then I'd try to make you scream."
The breath caught in her throat. Her insides twisted with awakening. "Scream?" she repeated.
"Yeah. Because it would just feel so unbelievably good." Their gazes met, and they began to stare. "You'd say my name. Over and over again. And each time you whispered it, I'd say yours. Your hands would be on my back, or my arms, or in my hair."
Her brown eyes begged him to comply. And then he muttered, "And that's what it would be like."
"Christian, would I have an orgasm?" she ventured without a beat, her face flushed red.
"I'd hope so."
"Is it always the same?" Ana whispered in question.
He shook his head upon the pillow. "No. Sometimes it's gentle...sometimes it's rougher."
There, he had stated the facts bluntly. She scooted closer to his warm body.
"What's best?" she posed, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth. "What do you like?" she whispered.
Her cheeks were bright red, but he loved her shy self for trying.
She watched his expression. If he said he liked gentle sex, that would keep her sane, but also bore her. If he said he liked it dirtier, rougher, wilder, she would find a part of herself she had kept secret for so long.
Christian looked down to the space between them. "I like it both ways," he murmured.
Christian gazed up into Ana's eyes, and her heart swelled. It was maddening, the way they thought and wanted so much. Things used to be simple, but spending so much time together had developed them both. Her body was hot, and she could feel a layer of sweat resting upon her upper lip.
His hand reached for Ana's, and she flinched.
"I think I need a shower."
Ana, you already showered..." he argued softly, but Ana was already on her feet.
"I need to shower again," she mumbled as her bare feet padded across their bedroom floor, and the bathroom door locked behind her. The room was in darkness for a few minutes, until Ana finally flicked the switch in the bathroom and light seeped from under the bathroom door and fought for dominance with the moonlight.
She thought of him out there in the big bed, alone and confused and frustrated as she unbuttoned her pyjama top before the mirror. Her fingers clutched the side of the vanity as she undressed. He didn't deserve to be toyed with, she cursed herself. Turning the knobs of the shower delivered a clean spray, and once again, Ana was safe.
The door handle clicked. Open, and then shut.
He was in the bathroom with her. Her pyjamas were piled on the vanity. And she was so naked.
Ana stood against the far wall of the shower. Perhaps he's just washing his hands, she pondered. He won't pull back the shower curtain.
She closed her eyes tightly. She wanted it to be over.
The spray of the shower was so loud that Ana didn't hear the metal rings of the shower curtain scrape against the metal rod.
When she opened her eyes, Christian was standing before the shower.
Her eyes widened, and she watched him step inside.
He stood at the opposite end of the shower, and his gaze fell on her. He could barely breathe. It didn't even register in his mind that he was still wearing his t-shirt and boxers, and they were saturated with water.
His eyes were narrowed and dark, and in his gaze, Ana saw herself as both limited, and incredibly alive.
Her body was like no other he had ever seen. Her breasts were small; he had felt those days before. He hadn't stopped thinking about how soft they felt in his hands. But the rest of her body was divine. Her waist was slim, almost too slim. Her arms were delicate and fragile. But her thighs were strong, womanly and seductive. The freckles. The pale skin. The pink flesh between her thighs. Christian had never been subjected to such torture.
They watched each other. Neither moved.
"I'm so obsessed with you," Christian whispered, and they stared, long and hard.
Yes, you are, Ana reasoned with herself. He was obviously aroused. His boxers were tented, the wet material latching onto his length. She knew what lay beneath. She wanted to see it. She wanted to see it hard and throbbing. All because of her.
The shower steam swam around her head. She felt drugged. He felt dead in the most lively way.
Ana bit her lip, and ran her tongue along the captured flesh. She glanced down at his arousal, blatantly staring. His own gaze was fixed between her legs, where her thighs met. Where he wanted to bury himself.
Come and get me, she eyeballed him. She pushed herself off the far wall, and slipped from the shower stall.
There was no way he could have gone back to the room in the state she left him, especially if she was offering kisses and touching and so much more. When he heard the door click shut, Christian touched himself. And with the new image Ana had presented to him minutes before, it wasn't Ana to find relief within minutes.
He wrapped a towel around himself and stepped back into their bedroom. The lights were out but for the moonlight spilling through the window. He glanced over to the bed. Ana was so cocooned by the covers that Christian couldn't see her face.
He was leaning over his suitcase in search of a clean t-shirt when Ana's voice caused him to look up.
"Christian."
Ana was settling herself against the headboard, her hair wet, the covers low. Naked.
Her eyes whispered that it was okay. His heart screamed something else. She's being strong. Don't push her too far. She's too incredible.
He walked over to the bed, holding the towel to his body. He didn't want her to see him yet. She was just getting comfortable with herself. She didn't need the added worry.
She watched him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. He undid the towel slowly, pulling it away from his lower half. Ana gulped at the sight of his behind. Smooth. So handsome, and so masculine. Her boyfriend. Hers.
He pulled the covers over his naked body, and he turned to her, his bareness hidden beneath the blankets and sheets.
He didn't hesitate to pull her close. Don't think, just do it, he repeated to himself as their naked bodies touched completely. With his gentle hold, he tried to convey that touch was all that mattered.
Gathered in his arms, Ana felt tiny and protected. Safer than ever before. Just that day in the graveyard, she had almost been scared of him. His thighs pressed against hers, his nipple bushed against the curve of her breast. His chin rested on her forehead. Still. Until he moved, and she felt his length press against her thigh. It felt warm and soft. Skin. Fleshy skin. Nothing to be afraid of. But they had kept it so secreted that the most receptive part of his body came to represent everything.
Her knees shook.
She was about to say that it was too much. She couldn't move any further.
But he pulled away from her before she could protest, and it angered her. He presses a kiss to her head and moves away. Anger boiled in her blood. Did he not trust her? He knew she was about to pull away? Did he have no faith in her?
She was a hypocrite.
She was desperate.
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AN: Well, well! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't as bam! as I said it would be, but that's now up next chapter. And thank you very much to everyone who reviews.