Page 5 of Blood of the Sirens
Oh fuck, there was an alligator.
I gripped the edges of my kayak, holding on and settling my useless paddle in my lap. I’d only get in blondie’s way, and we were moving. We were already out into the middle of the inlet and then back toward the clump of houses and decks where I’d launched from.
How was he moving so fast? It was deep here; he couldn’t touch. I glanced at his determined face, teeth grit in concentration as his muscles worked to push me further away. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet! Damn, he was strong.
“T-thanks. I didn’t even see him,” I managed shakily, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I realized how close both of us had been to being on the local news. “I think I touched him though.”
He huffed through his nose, barely breathing hard despite the effort he was putting forth. “I—I owe you a f-favor for the knife,” he replied. “I hate fishermen and their nets.”
I blinked at the full sentence. His speech pattern lilted lyrically, and I couldn’t place the accent. It was somewhere between a southern twang and Irish, as strange as that sounded. Almost as though he knew the correct words, but not how to say them.
I shook my head. “Yeah, you have to be careful in the reeds. That’s why I typically stay out in open water.…” I trailed off awkwardly. I usually never ventured into the reeds. Too big of a risk of running into … things.
“Well, thanks anyway,” I mumbled.
Lights twinkled nearby as dusk embraced us, signaling we were close to my family’s run-down beach house and the small dock I’d launched from.
Only three houses sat in this bit of isolated waterway, and all three families had owned these properties together for about a hundred years. My grandparents were loath to sell like so many others had and let the area fall victim to commercialism and the tourist board. Slowly, the heavily populated tourist areas further south had creeped up into this small little coastal town.
From the water, my house looked sad and derelict compared to the much nicer, more updated houses on eitherside of it. Next to the bright lights and fresh colors of the new houses, mine looked dingy and sagging. Their docks were fresh and made from recyclable plastic material; mine was dark and aged, sagging and prone to give me splinters if I went barefoot. One day the whole thing would probably collapse into the waterway.
I pointed wordlessly at the first one on the left, heaving myself over the side of the kayak, tumbling into the water. There truly was no easy way to disembark gracefully.
I shook my hair out, unembarrassed.
“Thanks again. Did you want to come in? I owe you a beer, I think.” I jerked my thumb at the house, only blushing a little. Shit, was it clean? How bad was the mess? It wasn’t like I’d known that I’d run into a hot guy on the waterway.
He grabbed my wrist, his rough, callused hand pulling me close to him without warning. He caught me against his chest, and the smell of the ocean filled my nose. He smelled like salt and sand, with a hint of something more; something wild, and … spicy?
“Do you live here?” he asked roughly, the sound reverberating from his chest more than his throat.
“Yeah. We used to just come part time, but I’m living by myself at the moment. Quarter-life crisis and all that. I’m uh, trying to fix it up.” My mouth snapped shut. He didn’t give a shit about my sad life story.
My kayak bumped up against the old wood dock, but neither of us paid it any attention as we stood next to it in the shallow water.
Those aquamarine eyes glowed in the semi-darkness. And his defined muscles were all right there. Rarely had I met a man strong enough to hoist my ass. Which was super hot, by the way. Most men wouldn’t even try to lift me, let alone succeed.
At this point in my life, I had little fear of rejection. I’d hadenough to fill anyone’s cup. What was the worst that could happen, right? Leaning forward, I went for it, hooking my arm around his neck as my lips hovered near his.
He’d either go for it, or jerk away. I was prepared for either.
What I wasn’t prepared for was a complete mauling.
As if a switch flipped, the arm holding my wrist shot around my waist and dragged me against him, the other going to the back of my head and holding me still. He spun in the water, little waves crashing around us as he slammed my back up against the wooden post of the dock.
I ignored the scrape of the rough wood, hoping we missed the sharp barnacles, then deciding it would be worth it if we didn’t. I’d take any amount of splinters or wounds in exchange for a little action. His lips descended onto mine and he assaulted me in the best way possible.
I’d kissed a fair share of guys, but what my blond man lacked in technical precision, he made up for in sheer enthusiasm and passion. I could only hold on as he devoured my lips, his pelvis pressing up against mine. His kiss was oddly cool, yet stoking a fire deep in my belly. Our teeth bumped together, but I didn’t care, surprised and hopelessly aroused by his need. He bit down on my lower lip and tugged, a low growl rumbling from his chest. I cursed my wetsuit, unable to feel much of him.
He pushed me back further, the hand around my waist sneaking up between my breasts and gripping my neck. His thumb pressed against the pulsing vein in my neck, and his fingers easily wrapped around my throat.
Good god.
I moaned, my head falling back against the wood, water sloshing all around us. Never in my life had I hated a wetsuit more than in this moment. I wanted to feel his body on mine without barriers. I—
He pulled away abruptly, so terribly abruptly that I sank momentarily under the water. I coughed and sputtered, grabbing onto the side of the deck to keep me in place, cursing as I almost sliced my hand open on a barnacle. I tried to glare at him, but I was still too dazed and confused.
“I must go. Goodbye.”
