Chapter 23

Zach

Moira’s given

me the silent treatment almost the entire trip to North Carolina. I

was waiting outside her room when Randall exited.

He gave me a smile

and clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s a special woman,

Zach. Tread carefully with her.”

I merely nodded at

him in understanding, feeling pretty fucking low about myself. I

breached Moira’s trust in me by revealing our secret, but I was

so tired of hearing her fears. I knew Randall wouldn’t care and

would even be happy about it. But I couldn’t get her to see

that, so I took matters into my own hand. And I knew she was going to

be pissed at me, but I did it anyway.

Randall’s

words to me… to be careful with Moira… punch me in the

gut, because the thought of hurting her shreds me from the inside

out. I know I hurt her just now, and I know I’m going to hurt

her when I leave.

But I have to return

to Caraica. There is nothing for me here. Nothing except Moira, that

is. But what is she going to do? Take care of me? Let me live with

her in exchange for providing her orgasms? I have nothing to offer

her. Nothing that I’m good at except hunting and raiding, which

are skills that are absolutely useless here in this society.

I entered her

bedroom to find a suitcase on the bed and her putting clothes in it.

For a brief moment, I thought maybe she was still going through with

her plan to quit but then, in a clipped voice, she said, “You

should go get packed if you still want to go with me to visit Lisa.”

The grin that popped

out on my face was spontaneous, so relieved I was that she wasn’t

quitting her job.

Quitting me.

She glared at me in

response.

“How long are

you going to be mad at me?” I asked.

“I haven’t

decided,” she sniffed, and my grin got bigger. I’d let

her have her pique for now, but if she wasn’t talking to me by

the time we went to bed tonight, I’d fucking demand that she

forgive me. I figured I’d fuck her back into line if I had to,

just so I can have her smile and laugh again.

I’ve tried

several times to strike up a conversation with her during the ride,

asking her more about Lisa and her family. Her words were short, but

she wasn’t about to be totally rude to me. So she gave me some

minimal information, but managed to still radiate angry vibes toward

me.

My cock was hard

half the time, thinking about getting into her pants so I could make

her warm up to me again.

When she pulls into

her sister’s driveway in Wilmington, in front of a cute beach

cottage of gray shingles and white trim, I turn toward her. She shuts

the car off and starts to grab for the door handle. My hand snakes

out and I let my fingers slide along her jaw, where I grip it firmly.

Turning her face toward me, I wait until I have her attention and

say, “I’m sorry.”

She glares at me, so

I pull her face toward me and slide my lips along hers. “I’m

sorry,” I tell her again… sincerely.

Stiffness radiates

off her, and I know I’m not forgiven just yet. I kiss her again

and say once more, “I’m sorry.”

Pulling back, she

looks at me with accusing eyes. “You could have ruined my

career, Zach. You put this entire project in jeopardy.”

Anger surges through

me because I’m tired of being considered her test subject. I

know she certainly doesn’t feel that way when I’m lodged

balls deep inside of her. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Moira. I

don’t give a damn about your project, but I knew Randall wasn’t

going to be mad and I was right, wasn’t I?”

“That’s

beside the point,” she sputters, and I kiss her again to shut

her up.

When I pull away, I

clasp her face. “I’m not your pet project anymore. I

don’t fucking need you to help me adjust because let’s

face it… I’m doing just fine here. I’ve played by

all your silly rules. I eat with my fucking utensils, and I don’t

go around killing people on a whim. I understand your rules, and

nothing about this world freaks me out. And I was tired of fucking

hiding what we have. Do you know how much it kills me not to be able

to touch you when I want, or to keep my eyes averted for fear someone

might guess that we’re fucking each other? I was sick of it,

and I’m glad I did it, and I’d do it again. So be pissed

at me if you want, but I’m fucking the remaining bitterness out

of you tonight.”

The anger finally

seeps out of me as Moira stares at me with wide eyes over my rant.

Her chest rises and falls in tune with my own.

“You don’t

need me anymore?” she asks in a small voice.

Pulling her into my

arms so her face is buried in the crook of my neck, I squeeze her and

growl, “I do fucking need you. More than I want to admit. But

not as an anthropologist. I need you the way a man needs a woman.”

“But you

already have that,” she tells me. “I give that to you

already.”

“Maybe I want

more,” I tell her impulsively, because maybe it’s time to

lay it all out on the line. Maybe it’s time to give a voice to

these feelings I’ve been having.

“More?”

she asks hesitantly as she pulls back to look at me, and it kills me

to see the fantasy of a happily ever after in her eyes. Because I

don’t see how I can give that to her, yet I know I’m

not ready to let her go right now. I’m a selfish fuck.

Scrubbing a hand

through my hair, I let out a breath and try to clear my mind. “Look…

Paraila wanted me to commit to a year here before I considered going

back. I know I haven’t exactly given in to that idea, but what

if I did that? What if I just committed to a year here… with

you… and we see what happens?”

Hope fills Moira’s

eyes and I feel wonderful and wretched all at the same time, for

offering her something I’m still deep down not sure I can

fulfill. All I do know is that I don’t want her mad at me, and

I want to be here with her right now with an absolute vengeance.

“Commit to a

year here?” she asks.

“Yes. We can

stay in Atlanta until you have to start back at Northwestern for the

winter semester. We’ll move into my parents’ house

because as much as I like and have come to respect Randall, I don’t

like sponging off him. I’ll get a job. Then we can go back to

Evanston when you have to start work. We’ll stay there until

next summer, and I’ll decide what to do then.”

I know I’m

hedging on that last statement because my mind hasn’t been

changed. At least not as of this exact moment, because I still feel

deep down in my heart that I need to return to Caraica. It’s my

true home, and as much as I’ve come to care for Moira…

as much as I think I’ve come to need her… my loyalties

are still with Paraila and the tribe. The biggest part of my heart is

still there.

Moira gives out a

stuttering breath. Her voice is shaky when she says, “Okay. I

think that’s a good plan.”

I smile at her then

because, for now, this crisis has passed. “It’s a plan

then.”

Moira surprises me

when she grabs ahold of my face and kisses me deeply, plunging her

tongue in, and I’m helpless to resist. I kiss her back,

grateful to return to where we were… a mutual need for each

other that we are both willing to satisfy by living in the here and

now. I can do a year here. No problem. Not with Moira by my side.

Pulling her lips

back slightly, Moira whispers, “I think I still might be a

little pissed. I think you’ll definitely need to fuck that out

of me tonight.”

I groan at the

thought and wonder if I could just fuck her right here in the car, in

broad daylight. My hand drops to the front of her jeans, and I work

at her button. At the very least, I could probably get her off really

quick.

Knock, knock,

knock.

Moira springs away

from me, whipping her head to the driver’s window, where a

woman stands peering in at us. This is no doubt Lisa, as she has the

same red hair and green eyes as Moira. She’s slightly older but

they look remarkably alike, except Lisa is a little more rounded in

the breasts and hips, probably from childbirth. I’ve noticed

that happens to some of the Caraican women after they’ve had

children.

Moira doesn’t

spare me another glance, just pushes the driver’s door open and

flies into her sister’s arms. I watch them hugging through the

window for a moment, reach down to adjust my hard-on, and then get

out of the car.

I turn to look at

them over the roof of the car as they smile at one another.

Lisa shoots me a

glance and then looks back to Moira. “Sorry to have interrupted

your… um… whatever it was you were doing. But I’ve

been hanging out at the window watching you since you pulled in, and

I couldn’t stand not giving my baby sister a hug another moment

longer.”

Moira laughs and

pulls her sister back in for another squeeze before releasing her. I

shut the car door and walk around the back. When I reach the sisters,

Moira introduces us. “Lisa… this is Zach. And Zach, this

is my sister Lisa.”

Lisa reaches a hand

out, and I shake it. “It’s a pleasure, Zach. Moira’s

told me a lot about you.”

She then turns back

to Moira and punches her lightly in the arm. “But apparently

not everything. That was some kiss I was watching.”

“Stuff it,

Lisa,” Moira says with good nature, and then reaches her hand

out to take mine. I don’t hesitate a second, linking our

fingers together in what is our first public display of affection

around someone we know. It feels… nice… not to have to

hide my attraction to Moira.

“Well, come on

in,” Lisa says as she turns toward the flight of stairs that

lead up to the porch of her stilted cottage. “Adam should be

home soon, and I’ve got some steaks to throw out on the grill.

The kids are so excited to see you.”

Almost as if on cue,

the front door bursts open and two red-haired children… a boy

and a girl… come barreling down the steps screaming, “Aunt

Moira.” Moira told me in the car that the little girl is eight

and the boy is just six years old. I watch as she falls to her knees

and opens her arms, then both kids are crashing in to her for hugs.

She wraps them in

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