Page 17 of Kiss for My Kraken
She sat motionless on the dock, one hand rising slowly to touch her lips. They still tingled from his kiss, still held the taste of him. Ozzie whined and nudged her arm, breaking her trance.
“Sam,” she whispered, a wondering smile spreading across her face. “His name is Sam.”
CHAPTER 10
Sam shot away from the dock, driving himself deep into the familiar darkness of the river. His heartbeat thundered against his ribcage like a trapped animal, and water rushed past his gills in frantic bursts.
I kissed her. I actually kissed her.
The taste of her lingered on his lips—sweet wine mingled with her own sweetness and something else. Warmth. Life. Humanity. His tentacles curled and uncurled as he spiraled downward, seeking the river bottom.
Despite his cautious hopes, he hadn’t intended to reveal himself yet. Watching her dangling her feet in the water, talking softly to her dog, looking so achingly lonely and beautiful in the dying light—it had been torture to stay hidden. When she’d trailed her toes through the water, he hadn’t been able to resist reaching out, touching her ankle, the skin as soft and delicate as he remembered.
And then she’d spoken, and asked him to show himself—not with fear or suspicion, but with wonder in her voice.
Please show yourself.
Three simple words that had undone years of caution.
He twisted through the current, letting the cold water rush over his overheated skin, but the coolness did nothing to dull the memory of her lips yielding beneath his. The softness of her cheek beneath his palm. The slight gasp she’d made when he’d first touched her.
He broke the surface fifty yards downstream, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. His gills absorbed oxygen from the water when he was submerged, and his lungs took over when he surfaced. Usually the transition was seamless, but tonight his body felt strange, too hot, too aware. His mating arm ached, pressing against his sheath for the first time in years.
What have I done?
The rational part of his mind screamed warnings. He’d revealed himself. Broken his cardinal rule of solitude and secrecy. Worse, he’d touched her. Kissed her.
Yet he couldn’t regret it. Not when the memory of her response blazed through him like wildfire. She hadn’t pulled away in disgust. She’d leaned into his touch, returned his kiss. Her lips had been so soft, so warm against his cooler ones.
But that warmth, that delicate human softness, had also reminded him of the vast differences between them. Her fragility compared to his strength. Her small body against his much larger one.
He submerged again, letting his powerful tentacles propel him through the water. He circled back towards her dock, keeping tothe deeper channel and staying hidden beneath the surface. He needed to see her one more time before retreating to his island.
From below, he watched her silhouette against the night sky. She hadn’t moved from the dock. Her fingers were pressed to her lips, a wondering expression on her face. After a long moment, she rose and made her way back up the path to her shack, the dog trotting at her heels.
On the porch, she paused and turned towards the river. He held perfectly still, even though he knew she couldn’t possibly see him in the darkness. She lifted her hand to her mouth, then extended it towards the water in a gentle gesture.
She’d blown him a kiss.
Each night since she’d moved into the shack, she’d performed this small ritual. A goodnight to the river, to the island—to him, though she couldn’t have known it. But tonight, it felt truly meant for him. Deliberately directed at the hidden creature she’d just kissed.
He waited until the lights in her cabin dimmed before surfacing fully. The night air was cool against his wet skin, and across the river, his island loomed, a darker shadow against the night sky. His sanctuary. His solitary kingdom.
For the first time since he’d claimed it years ago, he found himself wanting to share it—with Nina. The realization jolted through him like an electric current. He wanted to show her his world, his home. Wanted to see it through her eyes, perhaps even see himself through her eyes.
But how? While he could easily carry her across the river, the thought of sweeping her away into the water seemedtoo forceful, too frightening, especially after her previous experience. And it wasn’t as if he owned a boat.
There has to be a way.
Still turning the problem over in his mind, he let the current carry him downstream. The lights of the Moonlight Tavern glowed ahead, warm and inviting against the night. As he drifted closer, he caught sight of a solitary figure on the porch. Jekyll.
He felt a kinship with the doctor that he didn’t share with the other inhabitants of Fairhaven Falls. They were both the only ones of their kind in town—Sam the lone kraken, Jekyll the lone Hyde. Both predators by nature, both struggling against their darker instincts, both choosing to live amongst others while maintaining a certain distance.
He surfaced, not surprised that Jekyll didn’t react to his appearance. The doctor’s senses were as good as his own.
“Evening, Samarthan,” he said, his voice cool and slightly mocking.
“Evening, Jekyll.”
