12. Santo
“I love sunrises,” Tia said, “because there was a time when I wasn’t sure how many more I’d experience.”
We’d come down to the beach before the dawn to catch the sunrise. We lay on blankets with Tia tucked safely in my arms. Last night had been incredible. I was still in awe of the gift she’d given me.
I shifted to look into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I was diagnosed with nephroblastoma when I was seven… It’s a cancerous tumor originating in the kidney.”
My grip tightened around her waist. The gentle rhythm of the waves suddenly seemed too loud in the silence that followed her words.
“Cancer?” My voice came out rough. “You had cancer as a kid?”
She nodded, her gaze shifting from mine to the horizon where the first golden rays were splitting the darkness. “For almost two years, my parents and I lived in hospitals. Surgeries, chemo, radiation... it was brutal.”
“That’s... intense.”
“It was,” she admitted. “But it shaped me. Made me who I am. Made my mom who she is.”
Her mother’s overprotectiveness suddenly made sense. It must have been difficult to witness her daughter’s agony and not being able to do anything about it. She must want to keep her in a bubble to keep the world’s dangers away.
I suddenly wondered about my father and his brand of protection. He may not have me in a bubble like Tia’s mother, but he always ensured my soft landing from my carelessness.
The sky was transforming now, indigo giving way to streaks of amber and rose. Tia watched the sunrise with a quiet appreciation.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Don’t look at me differently now,” she warned. “I’m not fragile. ”
“Fragile?” I laughed softly. “Aggelé mou, you’re the strongest person I know.”
The sunrise blazed fully now, painting the water in shimmering gold. Tia’s face glowed, more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.
“What about your dad? You said your parents were there, but you only ever mention your mom.”
Tia’s body tensed against mine and the brightness of her face dimmed. “Enough about me. Tell me about your childhood.”
I heard myself say, “I killed my mother.”
Tia stiffened in my arms, turning to look at me with wide eyes.
“She died giving birth to me and my sister,” I clarified. “Complications during delivery. My twin died as well. My father never remarried.” Which gave him all the time in the world to focus on me.
“Santo,” she whispered, reaching up to touch my face. “That’s not killing. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Logically, I know that. But...” I swallowed hard, surprised by how difficult it was to continue. “It’s hard not to feel responsible.”
Tia shifted in my arms until she was straddling me. “Thank you for telling me,” she said, echoing my earlier words.
“Don’t look at me differently now,” I said, attempting a smile.
“I won’t. But you’re still an irresponsible jerk.”
“An irresponsible jerk, huh? ”
In a swift movement, I flipped her onto her back and she squealed. I pinned her arms above her head, my face inches from hers. “Take that back.”
She laughed. “Never,” she declared, her chin lifting defiantly.
“Fine,” I said, releasing her arms.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down along with her underwear in one swift motion. Her eyes filled with anticipation.
I spread her legs wide apart, pushing them up until they were on my shoulders and planted my face between her legs. My lips latched to her clit.
She moaned, her hips bucking against my mouth. I licked and sucked, my fingers sliding into her wet heat, thrusting in and out in a quick rhythm. Her legs trembled and her body tensed.
I could feel her orgasm approaching, her muscles clenching around my fingers. I increased the pressure, circling her clit faster and pumping deeper. Her breath came in pants, her body arching off the blanket as she chased her release.
She cried out, her body convulsing as the orgasm hit her. I continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last ember of pleasure until she lay limp and satisfied beneath me. I gently lowered her legs from my shoulders, planting soft kisses on her soft stomach.
“Still think I’m an irresponsible jerk?” I asked .
She laughed, a sound filled with joy and release. “Maybe not a jerk,” she conceded, pulling me up for a kiss.
Tia rolled her eyes at me in exasperation and repeated herself. “I’m telling you, I’ve never been behind the wheel of a car. Ever.”
I made an equally exasperated face, placing my hand dramatically over my heart. “As a man who lives and breathes speed, who finds freedom in every engine roar, I am offended. That is unacceptable, and I, for one, intend to do something about it.”
We were clearing out some of the debris from the villa, though we didn’t need to since crews contracted for that task arrived next week to begin taking out the old furniture.
“It’s not such a big deal, Santo.”
I kept at it. “You’re right. It’s disgraceful. My girlfriend should know how to drive.”
“Girlfriend?” She grinned. “Well, I guess this is the end of the relationship I had no idea about.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Not a chance. But we’re fixing this oversight today. ”
I grabbed her hand and led her to a clearing where an old truck stood. It was a hunk of iron, rusting in places, and looked like it had done some hard work around the property.
She stared at it, appalled. “Is that even safe?”
I clambered into the front, rooting around in the glove box and withdrawing a key. “It’s perfect for a first lesson.”
“I think I would rather breakup instead,” she said.
“Don’t play with me, aggelé mou.” I was in the driver’s seat and patted my lap. “Climb on.”
“You expect me to fit on your lap? I’m not exactly petite—”
“Get in!”
She complied, lowering herself onto my lap, her ass pressing firmly against my groin. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress, and it took every ounce of my self-control to focus on the task at hand.
I pointed out each control, each element, and she balked when she realized it was a stick shift. “Aren’t those things supposed to be harder to drive?” she asked huskily, as my fingers glided along her thigh.
“Not if you know how to handle the stick,” I murmured. I could see her eyes darkening with lust .
She squirmed in my lap, her ass grinding against my growing erection. “How am I supposed to stay focused on my lesson if you keep touching me like that?”
“That’s the point.” I slid higher up her thigh, pushing her dress up to reveal more of her smooth, dark skin. “If you can concentrate with me touching you, you can handle any distraction on the road.”
She met my gaze in the mirror. “And what if I can’t?”
She ground her ass against me in slow, torturous circles, my cock hardening in response. I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh.
“Lesson over,” I grunted.
“But it hasn’t even begun,” she teased.
“It’s over because I say it’s over,” I declared, my hands sliding up under her dress, discovering her bare, wet pussy. “Fuck, Tia. No underwear?”
She giggled, grinding against me again. “Do you like my surprise?”
Instead of answering, I reached for the seat release, shoving it backward to give us more room. I tilted her forward, my hands shaking with anticipation as I fumbled with my belt buckle. My cock sprang free, hard and ready .
I guided her onto me, her tight, wet heat enveloping me. She whimpered, her body tensing as she adjusted to my size. I wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her close, while the other hand explored her body, cupping her breast, teasing her nipple through the material of her dress.
“Tia,” I rasped in her ear, “I need you to move. Up and down, aggelé mou. Ride me.”
She began to move tentatively, her hips rising and falling. I thrust upwards, meeting her movements, filling her completely. My fingers found her clit, circling the sensitive nub, drawing out a moan from deep within her.
“That’s it, aggelé mou,” I encouraged. “Fuck me. Show me how much you want me.”
Tia picked up the pace, her body moving with confidence now, her moans louder. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, her body on the brink of orgasm.
I pinched her nipple, my teeth grazing her neck, my cock thrusting deeper and harder. “Come for me, aggelé mou,” I commanded. “Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
She let out a low, throaty sound, her body convulsing as she came. I continued to thrust, chasing my own release, my body tense with the effort of holding back. As the last waves of her pleasure subsided, I let go, my cock pulsing as I came hard inside her.
We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths ragged. Then she turned her head to kiss me deeply.
“I think I’m going to like these driving lessons,” she whispered against my mouth.
After we caught our breath, I peeled off my shirt, using it to clean up the evidence of our spontaneous detour. Tia’s eyes lingered appreciatively on my bare chest.
“Ready for your actual lesson now?” I asked, sliding to the passenger seat.
“After that? I’m not sure I can concentrate,” she laughed, her voice still breathless.
“Key goes in here,” I guided, pointing to the ignition. “Clutch down, then shift to first.” The metal key ring jingled as she took it from my hand.
She gripped the wheel with determination as the engine roared to life. The truck shuddered beneath us, then promptly died when she released the clutch too quickly.
“Sorry,” she muttered, trying again. After a second stall, the old truck finally lurched forward across the clearing.
“Easy on the gas.” The dashboard rattled as the engine revved too high. “Get a feel for how it handles first. ”
Tia glanced at me, nodded confidently, and then—to my horror—floored the gas.
The truck roared and lurched forward, immediately burying itself into a thicket of small saplings at the edge of the clearing.
The scrape of bark against metal made me wince, and the truck jerked to a stop, engine still running.
We sat there side by side in stunned silence.
Tia turned to me with wide, bug-eyed innocence. “That tree came out of nowhere!”
I doubled over in laughter at the seriousness of her expression. She glared at me.
“I’m not quitting,” she muttered, adjusting the wheel. “I’m gonna figure this out, even if it kills me.”
“I wouldn’t think the term kill you is a wise one to use, considering you almost wrecked the car within the first two minutes of your lesson,” I pointed out, still chuckling.
“You’ve crashed three cars this year. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you,” she said.
“Touché.”
Her jaw set with renewed determination as she reversed us away from the damaged saplings. “Let’s do this.”
Later that evening, I found myself alone by the cliffside overlooking the sea. The moon cast a silver path across the dark water, and the distant lights of a passing boat glimmered. Tia had fallen asleep after we ate, exhausted from our day of driving lessons and non-stop sex, but sleep eluded me.
I picked up a stone and hurled it into the darkness, listening for the distant splash. What the hell was I doing? The plan had been simple. Seduce Tia, flaunt our relationship publicly, and break Katalina’s heart. A perfect revenge. But now...
I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated by my own conflicted thoughts. Tia had trusted me with her battle with cancer, her survival, the reason she cherished each sunrise.
The messages from Katalina had stopped coming three days before. I’d deleted her number from my phone without even realizing the significance of the act.
The revenge that had consumed me for years now felt childish. What would destroying Katalina accomplish when Tia looked at me with such trust in her eyes?
“You’re overthinking,” I muttered to myself, kicking at the rocky ground.
This was just sex—incredible, mind-blowing sex, but still just physical attraction. The fact that Tia had been a virgin complicated things, but it didn’t change the fundamental plan .
Did it?
I thought of how she’d straddled me on the beach this morning, not to seduce me but to comfort me about my mother. I’d never told anyone how I felt about my mother’s death. Yet I’d told Tia without hesitation.
No, I decided, pushing myself up from where I’d been sitting. I was in too deep to change course now. The contract, the project, the pictures I would upload of us on social media were all arranged.
Besides, Tia was resilient. Even if things ended badly between us, she’d recover. She’d survived far worse than a broken heart.
I ignored the sick feeling in my stomach as I headed back to the cottage, carefully sliding into bed beside her. She murmured something in her sleep, instinctively curling her naked body against my chest. I wrapped my arm around her, breathing in the scent of her hair.
Just a little longer, I told myself. Just until her work was complete. Then I could end things cleanly.
The fact that the thought brought me no pleasure was something I refused to examine too closely.