Among The Cloud Dwellers (Entrainment Series) (15 page)

*

My plane left in the early evening, so I still had some time to share with him, and I resolved to make the best of it. Carelessly throwing all caution to the wind, I reached over and gently shook him, whispering in his ear a naughty request.

He stirred in his sleep, responding to my soothing voice. He stretched his arms above his head and smiled.

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“You mean I have to be more persuasive?” I asked, nuzzling his earlobe with my nose. I began to kiss him and moved my body on top of him. “Is this better?” I reached above his head to stroke his arms with my hands.

“We’re getting there,” he said. He blinked his sleepy eyes open to look at me. “What all did you have in mind?” His honeyed eyes told me that no matter what I thought of doing, he would be more than willing to agree to it.

“Uh—nothing. Just wanted to give you a quick good morning.” I kissed his forehead and pretended to slide off him.

He quickly trapped my feet with his and sprang his arms to grab my wrists. “Tease.”

I squirmed a bit trying to free myself and managed to arouse him even more.

“That’s only going to aggravate the situation,” he said.

A small dark place in me stirred alive, quite pleased. I found myself slowing down. I shifted my moves to a more seductive and insistent pulse to let him know I had every intention of finishing what I had begun. I used my hips and lower back to adjust myself in response to his swelling and braced myself against his chest.

He let go of my wrists, and his hands found my hips, guiding. His fingers sank in the curve of my butt, opening me up.

I plunged. I was more than ready and yet the impact of my aching, moist tenderness against his hardness stunned me. I crossed that line that marries pleasure to pain and cried out, bowing my back as he pierced his entire length deep inside me in one hard, agonizing thrust. He held me tight, giving me a chance to find my breath.

Like a surging tide, wet and foamy, my sexual impulse awakened, stirred, spread.

Slowly, I moved.

Physical craving manifested from age-old instinct. My senses burned, fueled by hunger and the advantageous position of being on top. I leaned in, flexing my inner muscles tight around his entire swollen length and sought sheer friction as I slid up and down, lingering on the edge of its larger tip. I swept my hips in a circular move and pushed back down, pulling him along, my pace quickened under the hastening pressure of his hands guiding my hips until blind raging bliss flared.

The initial pain faded, erased by the strong, magic strokes of our lovemaking. Pleasure thickened from a tiny flame flickering deep inside me to an enraged fire that consumed my whole body. It exploded, ricocheting madly against my skin from the inside out. With a sharp intake of breath, Gabe responded to my aggressive attentions. No longer capable of holding back, he shot me a sensuous look that flared pleasure through me instantaneously. Rising, rising, rising, the plunging rhythm of flesh against flesh exploded into a ferocious crescendo of excruciating pleasure, finally liberating us.

*

He rolled over and I stretched along his body. A single heartbeat drummed against our heaving chests. We lay quietly enjoying our fluffed-up auras until rigor mortis almost set in, and our stiffened limbs begged for mercy.

“I’d offer to cook you breakfast but I believe it’s about lunch time,” Gabe said.

“It’s that late already?” I asked, looking around his bedroom for a clock.

“No, I was exaggerating.” He watched me for a few minutes as if trying to memorize my features.

I held his gaze.

“Porzia, I don’t know what’s going to happen with this—,” he began, combing a hand through his hair. His words held the hesitation of a newborn wave lapping at foreign shores for the very first time. “But I mean it when I call you ‘luv.’ This has all the roight signs to be the real thing.” He looked at me. His soul spilled through dark lashes.

My heart skipped and made a run for my throat. I swallowed and pulled the sheet up my chest. I tried to smile, drowning shamelessly against surging tears.

“Gabe, I know—I feel it too.” Forgetting all about the fact I had just tried to cover myself, I sat up to hug him tightly. The tears in my eyes made him a dreamy vision of liquid blue and gold, but the solid strength of his body told me he was real—painfully real.

“I know this is fast, and we don’t have much time,” he whispered in my ear, “but if you do have any time off soon, I want you to know that you need to get back here.” He pulled back to see my eyes.

I bit the inside of my lip. I nodded, blinking tears away.

“You’re absolutely adorable, Porzia.” He wiped my tears away. “I’m my own boss, and as soon as I straighten a couple of things out, I’m coming over to see you in Florida. That is, if you want me to.” He grinned, confident.

Delight burst through me. I smiled idiotically.

“How long is it going to take you to sort those things?” I asked, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand in an extremely unladylike manner.

“I’m not quite sure; no longer than a month, I guess.”

“I’ll work it out so I’ll have time off to spend with you,” I said, already making mental plans to shift a couple of imminent projects.

“Great. Then it’s settled. I don’t know how you feel about a long distance relationship, luv, but I’m diving into this head first.” He caressed my cheek with the back of a bent finger.

I rubbed my face against his strong palm and inhaled the night just passed lingering on his skin. “I’m diving with you, Gabe.” I planted a light kiss on his open palm.

We ended up sharing the shower, skipped breakfast, and worked toward an early lunch.

Why was I so concerned with food anyway?
I wondered, once finally out of the bathroom. With hair wrapped in a thick towel, I rummaged through my luggage for fresh clothes to wear on the plane and involuntarily dropped the dice again. One and one: Two. Once more.

Interesting.
I shrugged off the coincidence and a short-lived pang of discomfort and concentrated on my wardrobe. Flying back to summer, layers were in order. I set my sneakers aside, along with jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and a periwinkle sweater. Gabe was still in the bathroom and didn’t emerge until I had just finished getting dressed. I was tying my shoes when my towel decided to unwrap itself from my bent head. I was left sitting on the side of the bed, elbows resting on my bent knees, glancing at a very naked Gabe from beneath the thick, safe curtain of my wet, tangled hair.

He looked like something Atlantis might have left behind before sinking away forever beneath the waves, breathing proof that the gods still walked among us. Confident and strong, he moved about the room with the weightless grace and latent energy of a predator. He moved without hurry, as if air turned into clouds closer to his body, surrounding him. His body glistened with myriad drops of water.

The thought of kissing him dry, slowly, taking my time, became a yearning. I sighed; if only we had such time. His hair, still wet, was combed back carelessly in thick, sun-kissed wheat strands. In the back of my throat, I could taste his heat pulsing beneath the lingering fragrance of his shower soap. The sight of him getting dressed became my present focus. Black boxers went up, riding along his strong legs, followed by a pair of faded jeans that had seen better days and a black T-shirt I recognized as the one he wore on the plane when we met. He kept his feet bare.

“Hungry?” His voice startled me back to reality.

“Starving.” I pushed my hair away from my face, combing it with my fingers. I tucked the dice in one of the suitcase’s internal pockets, clicked the suitcase shut, and gave him a dazzling smile.

“Let’s go see what we can come up with.” He extended a hand to help me off the bed.

*

“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, hoping he would, knowing I did.

“Sure,” his voice answered from inside the fridge.

He handed me a chilled coffee can, and I got busy setting up the coffee pot.

We quickly found bread, smoked salmon, eggs, tomatoes, and a ripened cantaloupe which I sliced and drizzled with lemon juice.

Gabe turned the radio on as I made a fluffy omelet. We soon sat to enjoy a nice brunch, good music, and each other’s company.

“You mentioned a dog named Tess the other night when you told me the Dhamala story. She’s in the photo with you and the eagle?” Saying the eagle’s name gave me chills. I felt as if I was summoning her presence.

“Yes. Clark has Tess now at his place. I left her there when I went to Los Angeles. They get along, and he likes the company.”

“He’s alone?”

“Yes. Never remarried nor is he thinking about it.”

“Still loves your mom?”

Gabe nodded. “He’s come to terms with her death but doesn’t seem to be keen on the idea of another woman by his side.”

“And you?”

He shot me a quick glance, then focused on his mug. “You make outstanding coffee.”

“Thanks.”

“It doesn’t taste like this when I make it.”

“Do you usually have coffee in the mornings?”

“Yes. And toast. Sometimes eggs.”

“Do you usually shower before going to bed or in the mornings?” I asked.

“Strange question. Why is it important?”

“I just want to know so I can imagine you once I’m home.” I tried not to sound too sad.

“I do both but prefer the evening shower, usually. After having worked on a car at the shop all day.”

“Do you ever take baths?”

“No.” He smiled. “But we can change that if you’ll take one with me—” He stopped as if he had just remembered something. “I take that back. I end up taking a bath every time I wash Tess.” He smirked.

“I’m going to miss you,” I confessed, looking up at him, riding on the tail of his lingering crooked grin.

He reached over the table to take my hand in his. “This was sort of unexpected.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed, squeezing his hand.

“Even more precious because of it.”

“How long a drive is it to get to the airport from here?” I asked.

“About half an hour.” He pushed himself up.

“That doesn’t leave us much time,” I said, getting up myself.

He walked around the table to take me in his arms. I returned his embrace and leaned my head against his chest.

“Is there is anything you need to do before going back?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, I need to stop by a florist and send some flowers to the Jourdains.”

“We can do that on our way to the airport. Anything else?”

I took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. “I’d like to stop time and slowly enjoy every still second with you. I’d like to forget all about out there and allow only your arms around me to matter. I’d like to start over and re-live every delicious moment I’ve had the pleasure to share with you so far, from the way your hair feels through my fingers down to the tip of your toes wiggling against mine in bed.”

That stole a smile from him.

“And only the fact that I know the future will bring me even more intense pleasure gives me the strength to go ahead and allow time to move as it ought to.”

There, I said it!
Spelled
, like a true sorceress. Laced with only the purest of my intentions. I cast my wish out there, aware that by merely wishing, it would manifest. Was that the true power of magic? To shed all fears, to ride the power of pure love uncontaminated by obstacles we create?

“That’s it! You’re not going anywhere.” He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me ever so tenderly. I melted in his arms, as if becoming part of him would take care of all our troubles.

And so it was that time answered my plea, and what little we had of it lasted for what seemed like forever, and we had time to talk, make plans for the future, and even laugh as we held each other until it was time for me to go.

The drive to the airport and the stop at the flower shop were quiet, weighted by my imminent departure. And yet, a strong undercurrent—a certainty that all would be fine—kept us from drowning in sorrow.

How strangely the mind works when, in desperate situations, we make a point of focusing and remembering the simplest and least important details. I will remember forever the fact that the airport’s waiting area was almost empty.

I turned to look at Gabe and opened my mouth to attempt a good-bye. I closed my mouth and swallowed my heart in a hard lump.

Gabe didn’t look as though he was faring any better. He actually had a pair of sunglasses perched up high on his head. I knew he was going to wear them on his way out. His eyes were already fighting a red rim that reminded me of what happens to the moon when a cold front approaches.

I tried to smile. I looked up at him and rose on my tiptoes, resting my hands on his strong chest. “You were wearing this shirt on the plane,” I said against his mouth.

His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and his mouth brushed mine. “Yes, I was.”

Oddio
, I was gonna miss his arms. “You were looking out the window when I sat down next to you. I couldn’t wait for you to turn so I could see your face,” I whispered.

“I had you there for a moment. When I asked you to hold my hand.”

“Yes, you did.” I smiled, thinking about how now it sounded so unusual. “I believed you for a second or two.”

“When you looked at me with those bright eyes of yours and shook my hand, I didn’t want to let go,” he said in a breath that sent shivers down my spine. “Then you gave me a rainbow and made me laugh. I felt totally spellbound. You fed me and let me hold you as we slept. Once we landed, I wanted to take you straight home. It was hard to see you go then.” He took a deep breath. “It’s harder to see you go now.” He exhaled, but his grip tightened at my waist. “But I’ll see you soon, and we’ll have plenty of time to make more memories.”

His words went straight to my heart. Carefully, I wrapped them with the strength of my love to cherish for the rest of my days.

W
hat kind of sins did I commit for karma to hit me like this?

My journey to Melbourne ended up being a sad affair of tears, nose blowing, and moans of despair.

I jumped off the plane the instant the door opened and sought a phone like a newborn seeks air after the slap.

I dialed his number. It didn’t work. The wretched phone kept on swallowing coins like a black hole until I ran out of Australian change. I shoved my credit card down its throat. Exasperated, I finally managed to get hold of an operator and had her connect me to Gabe’s home number.

The connection rang and rang until the machine picked up. No answer.
Merda!
I was about to leave a message when—dear heaven, if his voice didn’t answer.

“Hey, luv! Where’re you calling from?” he said, his voice sounding surprised and strong.

“Melbourne. I just landed and have a couple of hours to wait around for my connection to LA,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against the cold metal of the phone box.

“I’m glad you rang. Are you OK?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I miss you, and I got really upset on the plane, leaving you like that and all.”

“I know. It was hard.” I heard him take a deep breath. “I miss you already, and I wish I could have you back here, never to leave my side.” His voice faded behind the mad thumping of my heart. I panicked, afraid it would drown out his words with its furious drumming.

“Porzia, if you tell me to, I’ll have a ticket for you to get back here instead of going home, waiting for you at the Qantas counter in fifteen minutes. Just say the word.”

Is that what I wanted?

Yes! Yes! You idiot!
my heart screamed, almost giving itself a stroke, killing me right then and there. I wondered about Australian funerals. I saw hopping kangaroos carrying my casket in the shadow of Ayers Rock with a blazing sunset behind the imposing, ancient monolith casting the surroundings in a deep, red glow.

Did they still burn witches in this country?
I took a deep breath. “Gabe? Do you know how tempting that sounds? Thank you so much for even thinking of such a sweet gesture. I’d love to be able to with all my heart, but there are things that need tending to, and I am needed back home.”

“I know. But I’ll be damned if I care about responsibilities right now, Porzia, luv. You’re still so bloody close I can taste you. And the thought of you getting farther away by the minute drives me bloody mad. I know you need to go back and take care of all you’ve got planned and that we’ll see each other soon enough, but still I can’t help wanting you back. You just have to leap, and I’ll catch you, luv.”

I held on to his strong voice.

I swept my head back, taking in the foreign, aseptic surroundings of the airport. A river of strangers coursed around me, an unraveling of unfamiliar smells, colors, and vibrations. “That’s not the kind of leaping I’m struggling with,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Gabe, you’re gonna have to tell me to be strong, and you’re gonna have to be strong for both of us right now.” I began to cry. “Because I can’t.”
Oh, merda!

“We’ll be there soon, luv,” I heard him answer softly. “Hang in there, and we’re gonna be fine, Porzia.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and swallowed hard, choking back a tidal wave of tears. “I’ll call you once I get home to let you know I’ve made it alright.”

“Please, I won’t be able to sit still until I know you’ve made it.”

“OK, then—”

“Have a safe flight and remember everything, Porzia. Don’t let distance dilute our present.”

“I won’t,” I snuffled. “I have my multicolored shadow following me,” I said, remembering his words. I heard him laugh softly.

“It’s not as colored as I could have made it with a little more time.”

I felt myself blush. I smiled, lifting my head, and opened my eyes, remembering where I was.
Melbourne. Airport. People. Civilization. Clock. Ticking. Next connection.

“I need to get going, Gabe.”

“OK, luv.”

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I’ll be here.” His loving words revived my spirit.

My hands shook as I hung up. I looked for my shadow. It was right where it was supposed to be, stretched and angled at the waist, along the near wall. I stood still for a few moments almost expecting it to wave at me. Finally, I grabbed my carry-on bag and went looking for presents for Benedetta and Evalena. While I shopped for a boomerang, my mind whirred.

I can handle the magic of putting ingredients together and making a dish by following a recipe. Even Madame Framboise had tapped into that one. But I’m not used to abstract, esoteric forces. I’m not sure how to go at embracing them. So how the hell did I end up falling in love with a former Australian racer who shared lifetimes with gods and shadows of mysterious entities? He made love to me like he was tracing his own words along my pages, touching my inner core with the flame of his soul igniting mine.

*

I ended up with a boomerang, a hand-painted reproduction of a David Malangi Daymirringu painting of
Dhamala, Catfish and Brown Snake
, tea tree oil and soap, and sheepskin slippers for Benedetta, having remembered that her last pair had been stolen and probably buried by her Doberman in her back yard.

Laden with the goods, I looked like the typical American tourist boarding the plane. At least my eyes were finally dry.

Mercifully, I fell asleep, my last thought trapped between my crossed fingers as I wished for answers.

*

“When your
own
Dreamtime erupts,” he had said.

*

Part of me—most definitely the French part—screamed at full volume that it was about time, and woke me up just as the pilot performed a landing as smooth as a perfect béchamel sauce. Although jet lag most definitely ruled my body, I lit up when I saw Benedetta stretching her neck like E.T. trying to see through an unexpectedly large crowd for such a late hour.

She shot me a huge grin and blinked twice behind her gold-rimmed glasses. “You look like something I’d flush after a binge on Mexican food,” she said, hugging me.

“Nice to see you too.” I returned the hug and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

“Yeah? Stop the smooching.” She pulled away, straightening her glasses. “People might think we like each other.” She flashed a look that meant she didn’t give a fig what people thought, she was just embarrassed by my affectionate display.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked, grabbing some of my shopping bags and poking through them. “What did you bring me?”

“
Siii.
I did,” I replied dreamily. I clutched my laptop carry-on bag to my chest as we walked toward the luggage carousel.

“Oh, oh, oh! What’s his name?”

I just smiled at her while the carousel burped luggage. I found my bag, swung it off the conveyor belt, and gave Bene a look that said, “Can’t talk now, my hands are full.”

Prancing around like an overjoyed puppy, she followed me outside and did her best at trying to coax the information out of me.

“Oh, come on now—”

“Let’s get in the car, and I’ll tell you all about it.” The muggy Florida air hit me like a shower. I shed my sweater; I was way overdressed for such weather but bare skin would not have cut it either.

She found her car, deftly loaded my bags, unlocked the passenger door, and ran to the driver’s side. We sped out of the airport parking lot merging into an almost deserted late-night highway.

What a difference. I had been gone only a week, and it felt like an eternity. The magic of flying and being catapulted to the other side of the world in just over the length of a day; it would never cease to fascinate me.

“So? I’m all ears,” Benedetta demanded.

I reached over and vigorously twisted her right ear. “That you are.”

“
Ahia!
That hurts!” She swatted at my hand, and the car swerved.

I forgot that it’s dangerous to interfere while she’s driving. I took my hand back and turned to look out the window.

“Gabe Miller.”

“Wow! Sexy name! Sounds like something out of a sassy novel.”

“He looks like he ought to be on the cover of one,” I said.

“Maybe I read that one.” She frowned. “His name sounds familiar. Hang on—” She turned her right signal on and sharply left Highway 110 behind. At the traffic light she realized she was in the wrong lane to turn right off the ramp and cursed in Italian under her breath.

Her hands fluttered at the traffic light and the general surroundings. “I hate this spot,” she said.

Suddenly, two deep parallel tracks, respectively named
incredulous
and
suspicious
, creased her forehead. “Gabe Miller? Porzia?”

I nodded.

Her mouth opened, she blinked twice, and soundlessly, her mouth closed.

Somebody behind us honked.

She woke up from her stupor, shifted gears, startled the rearview mirror into life cursing the mother of the driver behind us in Italian, and cleared out of the intersection.

“
The
Gabe Miller?” she asked once she found her voice. We were almost at my place by then.

“Which one are you referring to, Bene—?” I tried to stifle a yawn but failed.

“How many Australians named Gabe Miller are there?” she asked.

“I didn’t say he was Australian.”

“You’re exasperating me.” She turned to look at me. “Is he that particular one or is he not?”

“He is.”

She whistled softly. “He won the Paris–Dakar.”

“Twice.”

“No shit!” She gripped her steering wheel with a little more pride. “You’re right!” For no apparent reason she jammed on the brakes, and I just about collided with the dashboard.
Her ancient seatbelt stretched like worn-out chewing gum.

“How do you know so much about off-road racing?” I was impressed by the fact that she had recognized the name when I had not.

“I don’t really know that much, but a guy I dated in college was really into racing and that was big news back then. I heard him talk once, on TV,” she said dreamily. I knew what she meant.

“I know. He’s got a great voice.” I started thinking of all the other great things he was. I shook my head. “How’s Peridot?” I asked.

“He’s a sweetie,” Benedetta smiled. “You’ll see for yourself. I told him you were coming.”

“You talk to him?” My eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t you?” She cast a surprised glance at me.

The speed bumps of my driveway stirred my dormant brain marbles back into action. I would have hit my head on the car roof if it weren’t for the fact that with Benedetta driving, I hung on to the seat with both hands.

“Welcome home!” She smiled, screeching the car to a stop beneath my windows. Gingerly hopping around, she grabbed all the shopping bags and left the carry-on for me. Despite everything, it’s always nice to feel welcomed home where there are familiar surroundings and belongings.

I left Gabe less than a day ago.
I glanced at my watch and mentally tried to compare Australian and Floridian time. I needed to give it a rest—at least long enough for me to get inside and get some sleep.

*

Peridot jumped off his bed by the sofa and ran to greet me. Purring loudly, he coiled himself around my legs and sniffed my sneakers. He was ecstatic to see me. After dumping the bags, I grabbed my cat and greet him properly. Peridot rubbed his nose against my chin and couldn’t stop purring, kneading my shoulder with his strong tiger paws. I almost felt like purring myself, his joy felt so contagious.
Crazy to think how much a tiny animal can influence one’s moods,
I thought. Carrying Peridot, I looked around and noticed fresh flowers on the kitchen counter and new candles scattered around. The place looked great, clean and neat.

“Bene, you did a fantastic job. My herbs are thriving!” I walked with Peridot still in my arms to the bathroom windowsill to sniff at the oregano box I keep there.

“No big deal. It was clean to begin with.” She shrugged. “I just had to keep it.”

Peridot started munching on some of the tender leaves but stopped as soon as the pungent flavor reached his taste buds. He looked funny, making faces as he tried to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth.

“I’d love to stay and grill you about the details of your trip,” Benedetta said, jingling her car keys, “but it’s indecent timing, and you need to rest.” She pranced to hug me. “Call me if you need anything when you wake up tomorrow.”

“I will. Thanks for everything.” I returned her hug, squishing the cat between us.

I walked her to the door and waited on my threshold until her car bounced out of the parking lot. I closed my front door behind me and let Peridot down as I headed for the bathroom to quickly freshen up. Exhausted, I grabbed a pair of short pajamas and climbed into bed to call Gabe, struggling to mentally calculate the time difference once again. I tried his home first.

The first ring came and went, echoing in my ears; the second came and went, chipping a couple of my heartbeats away. He answered right in the middle of the third ring, settling my heart.

“Hi, it’s me,” I said, crushing pillows, releasing the familiar scent of my laundry detergent. Peridot jumped on the bed purring and sniffed my feet.

“Porzia. How you going? Did you have a good trip?” His voice sounded like he was right around the corner.

“Well, I was extremely upset about leaving you, but the planes were mostly empty all the way back here, so I managed to churn myself into sleep.”

“Great, so you didn’t meet any great-looking Aussies this time?” he asked, laughing.

“No. Nobody asked me to hold their hands,” I teased.

“You sound tired.”

“I am, and my cat is biting my toes,” I said, pulling my feet away from Peridot.

“Smart cat,” he answered in a sexy voice.

I laughed and blushed, remembering his nibbling.

“How about you get some sleep, and I’ll ring you tomorrow sometime?”