Page 10 of Bianca's Bastard

“Great,” he said, walking quickly along the river. He kept having to look down because the only light present came from the moon and the stars. Bianca thought they were both very bright tonight, but it was still quite dark where Elias was walking. “I need you to come to me,” he said, climbing over some rocks. “Use the paddle.”

“Okay!” she agreed enthusiastically. She really wanted to be closer to him. “But why don’t you come out here to me? We can ride in the boat! That’s so much more romantic.”

“I’d like that, but I can’t get to you. Water’s too cold,” he said gently. “I need you to paddle to me. Can you do that?”

Bianca tried; she really did. But every time she paddled and started going toward him on the riverbank, the nose of the boat would come around too far.

“No, stop. Paddle on the other side. Then back again,” Elias said, trying to coach her.

The boat turned all the way around and Bianca spun in the middle of the river. She laughed, but Elias was getting frustrated. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I failed yachting class sophomore year. I only took it because I thought it involvedwaymore mimosas. Hard truth? There were no mimosas whatsoever.”

She saw Elias stop, put his hands on his hips, look at the water, and finally say, “Fuck it.” He stripped off his jacket, shirt, pants, gun, and shoes, leaving everything on top of a rock. All he was wearing was a little pair of boxer briefs. Even in the moonlight, she could the harmonious arcs of his muscles, from his broad shoulders to his rippling stomach and his lean legs. She saw every one of them flex as he took a few bracing breaths, preparing himself for a shock, and then he dove into the river and swam right to her.

“Yay!” Bianca said, helping pull him into her little boat. “You made it! Isn’t this way more fun? Oh my god, you’re cold.”

The water was freezing, she realized, and she pulled his body against hers. For a moment they both knelt in the bottom of the little boat, facing each other with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. She felt him shiver in her arms. “Here, maybe you can fit inside my jacket with me,” she said, trying to pull him nearer, but he took her by the shoulders and pushed her back.

“Where’s the paddle?” he asked.

“What paddle?” she said.

He closed his eyes, his jaw flexing for a moment before his eyes flashed open again and pinned her with a look. “Bianca. Did you drop the paddle in the water?”

She realized that was bad. “Want my jacket?” she said as she was taking it off. He stopped her hands and sat back on his heels.

“I’m okay. Keep it.” He let out a long breath and ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He had such thick hair. Bianca pressed herself toward him and put her hands in it.

He looked bewildered for a moment as Bianca’s hands moved from his hair down to his bare chest. She flattened her hands and spread her palms across his smooth skin. She couldn’t stop touching him. Her hands went up over the thick muscles of his shoulders and she arched herself closer to him.

“Wow, you have quite a body,” she said, her breath sighing out of her.

“Bianca. Wait,” he said, trying to catch her hands in his.

“I love your hands,” she said dreamily, sliding her wrists through his fingers until she’d turned the grip around. Lust welled up inside her, hot in her center, and sparkling like chilly stars under her skin. She was lightly gripping his wrists and she brought his hands to her body. “Touch me,” she whispered, fitting her breast into his palm. “Rub your thumb over my nipple.”

He pulled his hands away abruptly and grabbed her by the wrists, harder this time. “Bianca. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve most likely ingested a heavy dose of either MDMA or ketamine—maybe both—and you are egregiously intoxicated.”

“I have an idea. How about you slide in between my legs,” Bianca said, crawling forward on her knees and swinging one of her thighs around his hip.

He pushed himself back into the boat, evading her. “Bianca!” he said sharply.

“What’s the matter? You don’t want me?” She kept reaching for his hands, pulling them toward her body, placing them on her, but he kept pulling his hands away, pushing her writhing body away from his.

“Look, I want you very much,” he said, in a desperate way as they struggled. “But you don’t really want me. You’re… not yourself.”

“I am one hundred percent myself.”

“You’re intoxicated.”

“Egregiously,” she added, making him smile. “There you go. I love your smile,” she said, gasping.

“Bianca…”

“Do you have any idea how wet I am right now?” she asked bringing one of his hands between her legs.

“Oh god,” he groaned, finally catching her wrists, and holding them tightly. He shook her, trying to shake some sense into her. “This isn’t right. You don’t really want this.”

She tried to stop moving, but the hot tightness between her legs was intolerable. “Idothough,” she said softly. “Doyouwant this?”

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