Losing Control Read Free

decided to head on to
bed.
    As she was closing the white-flowered
curtains in the bedroom, she noticed movement on the beach. The brilliant
moonlight was showering the sand, illuminating a head of blond hair on a dark
figure. It was that boy. That Taury Trahern. He was
walking down to the shore. He glanced round, looking
for observers then stepped out of his shorts and dived nude into the glistening
water.
    Fawn felt a sudden tightening in her
body. She imagined herself sneaking down to join him, shedding her cut-offs and
her tank top, along with some major inhibitions, and sliding into the cool,
salty drink. Why he had captured her imagination she couldn’t say but he had,
and there was only one way to satisfy the aching between her thighs.
    She put the cats up for the night in
the craft room then locked the doors and turned out the lights.
    Once in bed she slid a hand down her
panties and let herself wallow in a wonderful dream where the still faceless blond
moved over her like a dark, sinful snake, caressing her breasts and kissing
them, kneading her hips and thighs and licking at her all over. It usually took
her awhile to achieve any kind of release but this time it was instant.
Shocked, she tried to calm the waves, but they rose again and again until she
felt tears come to her eyes.
    Finally she removed her hand and got
up to wash then slipped on a pair of short red polka dot pajamas.
    Before she returned to bed she peered
out the French doors. The boy was standing on the beach. It looked like – but
no, he couldn’t be staring at her house. She cowered in a dark corner, watching
his every move. He entered his home and a light came on. Fawn stared at his
silhouette as it went from window to window, feeling like some perverted fool
as she tried to catch a solid glimpse of his face. But he was too far away.
    She sighed and climbed into bed.
Sleep did not come easily. Visions of past sorrows, arguments, conversations,
wracked her brain. A fierce headache drove her out of bed and into the
bathroom. She found her dependable pain reliever, downed a couple with a sip of
water then she made her way through the dark hall to the back French doors.
    The night air was cool but it felt
good. She breathed in the saltiness of it, and the fragrances of the myriad
flowers that decorated the yard. It was like heaven being there. To think she
could live there for the rest of her life was unbelievable. She should be
happy. She thought she was. But those dreams – most of them were about Richard.
Things he’d said, lies he’d told. Why did they haunt her now? She was through
with all that, through with him.
    The pain killers weren’t kicking in
as they usually did. Fawn was restless, needed a distraction. She slipped
inside, grabbed some flip flops and threw a denim jacket over her pajamas. Then
she clutched the house keys and her cell phone, and sprang out the doors and
down a well-worn path to the beach.
    The moon was still blindingly bright.
She could see every step before her, felt safe in making a trek along the
shore. A dog barked; she jumped but realized he was locked behind the closed
glass door of a crisp white beach house. It was a very modern structure, not
her taste at all – too linear, too cold, like an office building or a hospital.
She took her time, examining each house on down the line, deciding whether she
liked this one or hated that one. The distraction worked – her headache
subsided. She was calm again.
    On the return trip Fawn tried to
ignore the Trahern house – she had deliberately walked in the opposite
direction but now as she neared the path it was impossible not to look at it.
The lights were out; surely the boy was asleep. She stopped, dared to admire
the design of it – her grandfather’s design. He should have been an architect.
It was the most pleasing combination of styles, symmetrical yet quirky,
sophisticated but with a humor about it. Of course it was a bit run-down; even
by moonlight she