Chapter 3 #2
He switched his gaze from her to the ocean.
The last thing he’d thought he’d find when he’d decided to come here for three months was a gorgeous woman who piqued his interest. He had been prepared to just rest, relax, and enjoy some “me” time.
But he knew that would be impossible now. Not with this woman living next door.
Because he was attracted to her. Big time. They weren’t the kids they’d been when they’d spent time together on this beach so long ago. They were adults with primal urges, and he wasn’t managing his so well.
He figured he might as well attack the matter head-on and glanced over at her. “I recall you saying why you’re single. However, you didn’t say if you were seriously involved with anyone.”
She had been gazing out at the ocean, as if enjoying a quiet moment. His words made her look at him. “Why do you want to know?”
He smiled. “I think we’re both old enough to figure that one out, Marti.”
She didn’t say anything but held his gaze a moment, and he knew she felt it.
Hell, she had probably felt it that morning, the same way he had.
That high degree of sexual chemistry flowing between them that he saw no reason to downplay.
He hadn’t planned for this but had no problem dealing with it...
although his way of dealing might be totally different from hers.
However, as he continued to gaze into her beautiful silver-gray eyes, his entire body began throbbing from the inside out, and he knew from the way she was looking back at him that she was probably feeling a few throbs herself.
It wasn’t unexpected. They weren’t teenagers.
Nor were they hot-and-bothered, barely liberated twenty-year-olds.
They’d been there and done that. They were mature adults who didn’t have the time or the inclination to play games. Sexual or otherwise.
Still, the intensity of the attraction surprised him…until he remembered that he hadn’t made love to a woman in a while. Close to ten months, in fact. And the funny thing about it was that he hadn’t missed sex…until he had seen her this morning. Now, he was overwhelmed with raw, pent-up desire.
“Aren’t we moving a little too fast, Dante?” she asked, intruding into his thoughts.
“I don’t think so. We’re not kids anymore. And when two people get to be our age, and there is a very strong sexual attraction between them, but no need for a committed relationship, the speed at which things happen isn’t much of a concern. Do you know why?”
“No, why?” she asked.
“Because we have years of experience on our side. We know what we want or what we don’t want.
And if we prefer to enjoy a physical relationship instead of an emotional one, we would be cool with it because, at the end of the day, night, week, or month, the pleasure would have been mutual.
When it’s over, we could go our separate ways because we hadn’t made any promises.
No mess. No fuss. And more importantly, no regrets. ”
***
Marti broke eye contact with Dante and looked at the ocean.
Everything he’d said was right and on point.
After Malcolm, sex for her had been Team Physical instead of Team Emotional, all the way.
Admittedly, it had taken a while for her to heal from the trauma she’d experienced, but once she had, she refused to let it destroy her healthy view of sex.
And so she had deliberately maintained a very active sex life, one filled with one-night stands and short-term affairs, largely because she had no intention of ever falling in love or settling down.
There was a time she had dreamed of the big wedding and living happily-ever-after like most women, but she couldn’t bring herself to ever trust another man.
She had trusted Malcolm, and she had loved him.
He had known it, and he had destroyed her love and trust in the most sick and vile way possible.
“Marti?”
She looked back at Dante. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
She saw genuine concern in his gaze. She sighed. “I’m fine.”
“You were trembling just now.”
She frowned. Had she been? She didn’t realize she was doing that, but then again, she didn’t doubt it. Anytime she thought about what Malcolm and his friends had done, she felt pain, hurt, humiliation and intense anger.
“You’re trembling again,” Dante said, reaching out and taking her hand. She could actually feel her hand tremble in his. But instead of trying to explain what was happening to her, she decided to answer his question.
“I date on occasion, Dante. However, since moving to Billings, I’ve been too busy to have much of a social life. So, no, I am not involved with anyone. In fact, for years, I’ve preferred non-committed relationships. And I can’t see that changing anytime soon.”
She studied him, and then asked, “What about you? Are you seriously involved with anyone?”
He released her hand, then stretched out on the towel. She couldn’t help noticing how easily his body shifted from one position to another. “I only date when there is a need to do so,” he said.
She knew what his statement meant. “What’s wrong? Do you have commitment phobia or are you embracing your inner loner?”
“I admit to having a phobia but not the commitment kind,” he replied.
“Oh? Then what kind is it?”
He paused for a minute, then admitted, “It’s the fear of falling in love deeply, and then losing that person. I’m afraid I might not be able to go on if something were to happen to the one I loved.”
He paused again. “I saw the toll it took on Dad when we lost Mom. Her death was unexpected. One day, she was there with us, laughing, cooking, and enjoying life. Then, the next, she was gone. Dad loved her with everything he had, and it took him a long time to get out from under that kind of grief. I don’t want to love any woman that much. ”
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“An aneurysm. One night, she woke Dad up, saying she had an extremely bad headache. In less than six hours, she was gone.”
Marti didn’t know what to say. Instead, she reached out and touched his knee. “I’m sorry.”