Page 9 of Away in a Tentacle Lair
They all deserve to live, but I need Mr Neoprene to be left out of this.
“Picking up bottle caps and such from the sea isn't enough, Kai; we've tried that for decades,” Dad snaps.
“I do more than-”
“Kai!” Nicholas interrupts. “No one is saying you don't do a great job. We're saying that we need to do more, or we will curse another generation to live like this. If we don't do something drastic, nothing will change.”
“Why don't you take this man of yours out for dinner and keep him away from the research centre for the evening?” Alice slides the family credit card across the table towards me.
“He isn't my man.”
“No, but you want to protect him after he protected you, and we all respect that.”
I smile at my aunt. She isn't my favourite; being born into this family has a way of hardening us more than those who marry in, but she is a solid advocate for my sexuality.
Chapter seven
Leo
Lazing in my hotel room isn't going to help me discover what I need to secure these job. But it is helping me remember the feel of Kai's body pressed against mine.
Okay, my wetsuit prevented me from feeling his skin, but the way he relaxed into me felt good.
Yeah, it was because he blacked out for those few seconds, denying me from enjoying it at the time, but knowing he is safe and well, I can relish in the memory.
Clothed in nothing but trunks, he was a sight to behind, each muscle toned by the sea itself.
My hand reaches inside my shorts, taking my length in a loose grip. My fingers get to play while I close my eyes and remember his bright eyes and confident smile. The passionate look on his face, unfortunately not aimed at me, but instead filled with his conviction for his conservation.
My hand stalls as I remember my dream job being the target of his eco-warrior drive. He obviously doesn't understand the centre's work on marine research and conservation. Ignoring myswollen cock, my mind begins to search for examples I could give him.
I could quote all the prestigious papers the centre is named in and all the research credited to the scientists working there. It was my paper on seahorse reproductive anatomy that got me lined up for this crazy month-long interview process.
But can I think of any ‘good’it has done?
One practical application for the information learned?
His dream of cleaning up the bay by hand isn't so naive after all. I still need to ask him what animals could be doing the same cleanup job as him, but on a smaller scale, so that I can get the job I came for.
I could offer him access to the research centre.
Or access me if he thinks my presence is as compelling a reason to stay as he is to me.
Instead of finding pleasure in my memory of today's events, I miss my family. They'd be snuggling under blankets, ready to watch the same movies we put on each year, mugs of steaming hot chocolate and a tin of roses making the rounds.
My favourite is the coconut one, but because no one else likes them, I save the best until last. Then, when all the other chocolates are gone, I'm left with a little pile in the bottom of the tin and the tin itself, which is useful for storing random stuff back home.
Fossils and seashells, mainly.
This may be a once-in-a-lifetime experience before I return home in the new year.
The phone beside the bed rings, and I roll over to answer it.
“Good morning, Mr Rowlands, this is reception.”
“Oh, hi.” A wave of cold heat flushes over me as I panic about my reservation. The research centre is only funding my room for as long as I am in the running for the job. If I've been disqualifiedfor today, I'll have to cover the cost of the room myself for tonight.
“You have a visitor in reception.”
