Stealing Phin (12 page)

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I’d probably overstayed my welcome, especially since I’d just ruined his rug. Maybe he was trying to figure out a polite way to tell me to scram before I ran up his incidentals charges.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes studied my face. I watched them follow the contours of my features, like he was admiring a painting or sculpture. I felt a shade self-conscious under his open gaze, but I held still and indulged in taking in his features in turn. His face was handsome—beyond handsome. His stubble emphasized his angular jawline. His eyes were a deep green and bronze this morning. His bottom lip was fuller than the top one, just like mine. I remembered sucking on its soft plumpness last night and immediately felt an intense craving to do it again.

I looked back at his eyes and caught him staring at my lips, too. Then, his eyes flicked up to meet mine. He tilted his head and seemed to be trying to figure out what I was thinking.

He reached up and cradled my chin in the crook of his index finger. He ran his thumb along my bottom lip. I didn’t dare say what I wanted him to do next. But like last night, my body seemed to be possessed by his power, and it began communicating to him on its own. And, just like last night, he picked up on my silent messages. He slid his thumb part way into my mouth.

I closed my eyes, running my tongue over his thumb and sucking it lightly. I could hear his breathing grow heavier. He withdrew his thumb, though an involuntary whimper slipped from me. I wanted it back. Pressing his thumb lightly on my cheek, he swept away the remnants of a tear. He put his thumb to his lips and kissed the wet spot.

Finally, he voiced his thoughts, which also echoed my own. “I really want to kiss you.”

The way he looked when he said this moved me. The humility in his expression, the earnestness in his voice spoke to the innermost parts of my heart. All the smugness and the game-playing were gone, and there was nothing but honesty. I stopped thinking for just a moment as a strange feeling overwhelmed me, and my impulses were quick to take control. And to my surprise, I felt my own wall coming down—one I hadn’t even realized was there.

I leaned across the small space that separated us and kissed him.

He returned my kiss with equal passion. Our hands reached for each other. The exchange between us became a dance of raging desire. Our mutual hunger for one another flowed between us like the surge of energy that ripped through the sky last night with each flash of lightning.

I forgot about the pain in my head from the Guaro and the ache in my heart for Douglas. I forgot about everything except the taste of Byron’s tongue on my lips, the feel of his skin on mine.

I felt Byron’s hands tugging on the bottom of my nightshirt, sensed his uncertainty about whether it was permissible to go where they’d gone last night. I grasped his hands and guided them up my shirt and onto my breasts. His breathing quickened as he played with my breasts, tweaking my erect nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. I felt his hesitation, sensing that it was rooted in his fear of crossing the hard line I had come here specifically to draw. Understanding that he wanted me to take the lead out of respect, out of wanting to earn my trust, I willingly took control, determined to erase whatever boundaries there were between us.

I pulled my nightshirt off, then undid the button of his jeans.

A moment later, I had him in my hands. Feeling the throbbing hardness of his erection aroused me beyond reason. I was no longer a thinking, rational human being—I couldn’t be around this man without wanting to be with him. He brought out something basic and primal in me. No other thoughts, no other feelings than my intense desire directed my actions.

Byron tipped his head back and uttered a sound that aroused me further as I stroked the length of his shaft with both hands. I wanted to taste him.

As I lowered my head to take him into my mouth, I heard him say, “Wait.”

Concerned by his tone, I sat up and looked at him.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. He looked as though he’d been caught doing something terribly wrong. He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands off him. “Stop. We can’t do this.”

Still dizzy with arousal, I struggled to make sense of what was happening. Without further explanation, he pulled his pants back on and stood up. “This can’t happen.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You have to leave now,” his said firmly. “I need to make a phone call.”

I looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious?”

He nodded and strode to his desk. By the time I put my shirt back on, he had his cell phone already in hand. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to leave. The closeness between us dissipated like the clouds in the canopy that were burned off by the harsh late-morning sun. Byron’s walls had gone back up.

And when he closed the door behind me, I knew he wasn’t just shutting me out of his room.

“That prick!” Dez exclaimed loudly over lunch. We’d driven into La Fortuna for a bite to eat and to do a little souvenir shopping. Today was our last day in the Arenal region, and tomorrow we were heading northwest for the Papagayo Gulf on the Pacific coast.

Not wanting to spend another second in the same town as Byron after how he’d treated me this morning, I wished we could leave immediately. But since we couldn’t, I found it impossible to keep what had happened between me and Byron a secret, so I spilled my guts out to Dez and told her everything. The conversation with Byron at the Lava Lounge, the incident at the pool with him later that night. I even told her about the calls to Douglas and the girl’s voice I’d thought I’d heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this sooner?”

“It all happened so fast, and I didn’t know what to make of it myself. I was so confused and emotional about Douglas, and Byron just kept…appearing.” I shook my head and poked at my fried plantains with my fork. My appetite was nonexistent.

“First of all, fuck Douglas. If you’re waiting for him to call you back, don’t hold your breath.” Dez speared one of my plantains with her fork and shoved it into her mouth. “Second of all, fuck Byron, too. He is the player of all players.”

I wavered. “But he was so sincere. Dez, you should’ve seen the way he looked when he—”

Dez pulled a face and dismissed this notion with a wave of her hand. “That’s the difference between a player and a really good player. The really good ones have the sincerity thing down. It’s what makes them so dangerous.” She stabbed at my other plantain and pointed her fork at me. “You, of all people, should know this. You dated a player who had you fooled and got burned. Don’t make the same mistake again.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dez,” I grew tearful. “You know me—I’m normally a rational, intelligent person. Why is it that when it comes to matters of the heart, I literally lose my mind? One minute I’m feeling normal and under control. And the next thing I know, I’m doing things that I’d never in a million years think I’d ever do.”

“Because you’re an incorrigible, hopeless romantic of the third degree, Phinegan Swift. It’s one of the things I love about you, but at the same time, I’m sure as hell glad I don’t share the same affliction.”

“It does feel like the third degree. Third degree burn right here.” I pointed at my chest with my knife. “And it’s a self-inflicted affliction, if anything. I must be a glutton for punishment.”

“You see?” Dez said as she promptly took the knife out of my hand and replaced with a much less pointy spoon, “This is why I don’t let emotions get involved. You need to do what I do and keep it simple. You meet a guy, you fuck, you part ways. Everybody gets an orgasm. Nobody gets hurt. It’s a fair, mutually beneficial exchange. As soon as feelings come into play—BAM.” She slammed her palm against the table. “All of a sudden people are
crying
, the world is
ending
, and worst of all, nobody’s having any
fun
.”

I sat in silence and picked at my food. Ever since I’d arrived in Costa Rica, things had gone from bad to worse. Now, not only was I dealing with my feelings for Douglas, but Byron just had to saunter in and complicate matters even more.

Why hadn’t Douglas returned my calls? Was he angry at me for breaking up with him and quitting? Was he playing hard to get? Or, worse, was he done with me…and us? His silence made me anxious. And what about all the craziness with Byron? I’d felt things with him that I’d never felt with anyone else before. But was it love? Was it lust that was just elevated by the highly romantic, exotic landscape? My love for Douglas was the only kind of love I’d ever known, but this feeling for Byron was so different, it just couldn’t be love. Could it? I posed the question to Dez.

She took a deep draught of her second margarita before answering. “Byron is a rebound.”

“You think?” I asked, partially relieved that she didn’t define it as love either. The last thing I needed was a complication of that magnitude. At the same time, it sure didn’t feel like any rebound I’d experienced before. Byron was an effective distraction from Douglas, and to be that, he had to have been a powerful distraction. But maybe Dez was right. That’s all he was—a distraction. Yet, even as the voice in my head told me this, it sounded as thin as the lock of hair Byron had tucked behind my ear this morning. No matter how I defined it, Byron Michaels had proven to be more than just an effective distraction from Douglas. He’d become a whole separate issue until himself.

“Yep,” Dez said definitively. “He was a much-needed distraction for you when you desperately needed one. And despite the fact that he ended up being an unworthy sack of shit for the way he treated you, I’m actually glad for every second he took your mind off the King of All Pricks. I still can’t believe you managed to call him twice behind my back, you sneaky bitch.”

“I don’t care what you say, Dez. I still have feelings for Douglas. Despite what he did, I can’t just go from loving to hating him at the flip of a switch. That’s just not how I’m built.”

“I don’t expect you to. So that’s why I took your cell and phone card.”

“You did what? Give them back!” I reached for her purse, where I suspected she’d stashed the items.

“Hell no.” She yanked her purse out of my grasp. “I’m keeping them until the end of this trip. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t buy any more calling cards.”

“But Dez—”

“Promise me, or I’ll do you-know-what.” She put her hands to the neckline of her low-cut tank top, indicating she’d unleash Laverne and Shirley if I didn’t comply.

“For Christ’s sake, Dez. There are kids in this restaurant. You’d scar them for life!”

Dez leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “It’s for your own good. You’ll thank me at the end of this trip once you’ve got both Douglas and Byron out of your system.”

“Fat chance.”

“You just need to focus on one thing for the remainder of this trip—
fun
. Speaking of which, Estevan got us free passes to go zip-lining this afternoon. He and Carlito are both going to be there.”

I groaned. “I can’t see Carlito again. Not after I—”

“Yes, you can. And you
should
. According to Estevan, he’s forgotten all about the whole vomiting-on-his-face incident. Apparently, you’re all he talks about at work. Come on.” She grabbed my forearm and gave it a little shake, probably hoping to shake a little life back into my limp soul. “These guys are a good time. Even if you don’t sleep with him, and don’t worry, I’m not going to pressure you into doing anything of the sort since you’ve had sex on this trip once, and it didn’t exactly turn out the way I’d hoped for you. Just have some fun. Channel the confident, happy, funny Phin I used to know—before the King of Pricks destroyed that part of you with one foul swoop of his forsaken penis.”

“It’s one
fell
swoop. Not foul.”

“Oh. Well, it was a foul move in my book.”

After a few brooding moments of silence, I made a decision. “Okay, Dez.” I sat up straighter in my chair. “You don’t have to do any more convincing. I’ll do it all—zip-lining, hanging out with the guys, focusing on fun. I’ll do it because, if anything, my heart and my head have taken a hell of a beating, and I need a break to recover.”

Dez smiled. “Not exactly the rah-rah spirit I was hoping for, but I’ll take it!”

“Let’s call Estevan,” I said trying harder this time. “Tell him to let Carlito know that I’m ready to
let
loose
my
mane
.”

By Wednesday morning, I was in the best spirits since arriving in Costa Rica. Zip-lining with Estevan and Carlito yesterday was a blast. As I whizzed through the rainforest canopy, I felt weightless and free from all the troubles that’d been casting a shadow over me lately. For the first time in days, I felt the simple kind of happiness I used to feel all the time. I squealed with giddy excitement when I spotted an elusive toucan in the trees. And when I dared to let go of the safety rope and spread my arms out like wings as I flew over the treetops, pure joy filled me from head to toe.