Page 34 of Hotwife

We bobbed in the water for several moments, silent, with only the harmony of waves and calls of the occasional seagull above us. The salty air cleansed my lungs as I sucked in deeply.

Desmond’s voice broke the silence. “I’m scared too.”

“I hope not. This whole thing was your idea,” I shot back, glancing around at the vast water surrounding us. We weren’t too far from abundant trees, though, and that fact steadied my nerves a fraction.

“Not kayaking,” he gestured from me to him. “This.”

Oh.

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

“I was married.” His deep voice pulled my gaze to his. “She left after this happened,” he put a hand on his prosthetic knee. This one was different, and I assumed by the design it was made for water.

“Des, that’s awful. I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be, that’s not why I’m telling you. To be candid, she was right to leave. I was angry, bitter, drinking too much. She deserved better.” He inhaled a subtle breath, staring out at the ocean. “It was a rock climbing accident in Colorado. I was between stations with my troop, climbed too high on too many beers, and fell, bringing down some heavy boulders with me.” He shook his head. “I lost my leg, but I should have lost my life. I would have been brain dead or paralyzed, if I didn’t have such an excellent surgeon. My life was saved, but I was bitter for a long time, Queen. The Marines had no use for me anymore. My dad was too busy marrying his third or fourth wife, and I felt lost. Useless.”

Careful to not rock the raft, I turned sideways and hugged my knees, leaning back lightly on his thigh. My eyes never left the side of his face. I took in every emotion, every word like it was a secret, because I felt that hearing this part of Desmond was like a secret. A hidden part of himself he rarely showed. “That was almost eight years ago. Photography helped bring me back to life. I’ve traveled the world for the past five years and I’ll probably be a nomad until I die. I haven’t let what happened to me stop me from doing it all. But you know what?”

“What?” I whispered, reaching out and holding his thick forearm, loving the way he didn’t flinch at my touch.

“I haven’t felt truly alive, not truly, until I met you.”

A sharp intake of breath traveled down my throat.

“I watched you for weeks, Dorthea. When I saw you at the aquarium, your red hair glowing in the blue light of the tank, you looked like an angel. My angel. My crazy ass little angel talking to a fucking fish.”

I laughed. “That sounds about right.”

“Then the very next week, somehow you were sitting in Eva’s tea room, looking bored as fuck. I told myself that you were married and to back off, but you didn’t look happy. None of those women are. I know my mom was miserable being married to my dad. My dad’s married to his work and nothing else. Doctors are like that, as I’m sure you know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Then, as luck would have it, you stumbled into my gym that day and I acted like a damn fool. But I couldn’t stop myself, Queen. I had to have you.”

“What are you saying, Des?” My voice just above a shaky whisper.

“Pick me,” he shrugged. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Travel the world, get married in India, honeymoon in Paris, have babies in Germany.”

Oh, my god.

His words should have sent me diving into the water and swimming away, but they only pulled me closer as his hands found mine. “This shit is intense, but I’ve never been more sure, Dorthea.”

“Des…” Was he for real? Why did my heart sing at his propositions? God, it all sounded so good coming from his lips.

A soft breeze played with my hair as my eyes met his earnest green stare. He deserved an answer that I couldn’t give. “I feel alive with you, too. You light a fire inside of me I can’t explain. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, Des, but, God,” I laughed, “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Leaning forward, he planted a heated kiss on my lips. My body reacted, leaning in and passionately taking him in before breaking away. “But… I love my husband.”

Desmond looked out into the ocean. “Quiet.” He put two fingers to my lips and nodded over my shoulder, smiling.

Confusion furrowed my brow as I turned around settling back into the grove of my seat. Suddenly, a deafening hiss sounded, and I startled. “Oh my god,” I breathed, my heart rate quickening. “It can’t be. Desmond?” I asked eagerly, but I already knew.

Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his smile. “Look, baby. They came just to see you.”

A spray shot up from the ocean, sprinkling droplets down around us. The best kind of rain. About five yards in front of our kayak, a pitch black dorsal fin cut through the surface, followed by the splash of a tail.

My hand covered my mouth in shock, and four more fins shot up behind it, dipping back into the ocean and splashing their fins. Desmond chuckled, as I propped up on my knees and leaned over the side, peering into the water. “It’s an entire pod! Desmond! A whole family of orcas,” I beamed, giddiness ignited through my veins. A bright white eye patch the size of my head was visible through the ripples. Suddenly, the whale broke the surface right next to our raft, spraying us with his spiracle. I laughed and reached out my hand, touching his slick body.

“They stop through in the late fall and early spring. Mac lives up the hill over here. He owns this land and monitors these guys, letting me know when they’re close so I can photograph them.”

“Wow,” I sighed, my face wet, but not only from ocean water.

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