Chapter Thirteen
Monica remembered the long conversations filled with talk about sex she’d had with her sister and her friends in her early years. She’d anticipated nothing but greatness for her first time. They did mention that intercourse would hurt the first time… but with the right partner that pain would be minimal and pleasure would soon follow.
What a crock of shit. Pain, serious get-the-f*ck-off-of-me pain, didn’t evolve into anything other than a mess the first time. Andrew, her first lover, wasn’t all that experienced in the art of making love. It was damn near over before they got started. It happened the summer after her senior year in high school. Unlike most of her friends who’d lost their virginity somewhere between tenth and eleventh grade, Monica wasn’t in a hurry to give it up. It helped that Jessie had gotten pregnant in school and constantly told Monica that it wasn’t worth it. Jessie may have loved Danny from the very first moment she saw him, but being a single parent had always been a struggle. Monica figured she needed to finish school and have a life plan before complicating anything with sex.
Andrew didn’t stick around, big shock there… and another opportunity didn’t present itself for months. She’d gone on the pill long before Andrew, and after one semester in nursing school she never, not once, made love without a condom. Her next experience was with an intern. Monica knew going into the affair he was a player. That didn’t bother her in the least. She was determined to find out what the big fuss was about sex. Who better to show her than someone who made women’s panties weep with want after just a look. He had been sexy, suave, and skilled enough between the sheets to keep Monica coming back.
Eventually her intern moved on… or maybe that was her. She kept her lovers at a distance, didn’t see them very much outside of the bedroom… why should men be the ones with reputations as players?
Even through all her exploits, never once did she roll away from her lover and think to herself, “now that is what everyone is talking about.”
Until now.
The orgasm Trent delivered ricocheted her body somewhere into the stratosphere and it was going to take NASA to bring it back.
“Good God, Barefoot, we have to do that again.”
Trent hadn’t caught his breath yet and lifted his face, which was buried into her neck, to look at her. A self-satisfied smile radiated all the way to his eyes.
Something inside the Ice Queen started to thaw.
“Right now?” he teased.
She clawed his back and felt sand beneath her fingertips. “I’ll let you rest. Maybe after a swim.”
“How nice of you,” he said with a laugh. He rolled to his side and pulled her with him. He blew out a breath as if saying damn that was amazing.
“I know, huh?”
He kissed the top of her head in response.
“I didn’t even mind the sand… much.” It was everywhere. Sticking to her skin wherever Trent touched.
“The sand sucks.”
She kissed his jaw and moved away from him a few inches. Her body buzzed with energy and a need to move. “How about that swim? Wash off?”
He placed his hands behind his head and watched as she reached for her underwear. The smile on his face never fell. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, making her pause. His stare was a little unnerving. It seemed there was something else he wanted to say but didn’t.
She dropped her hand to his leg. “You’re all kinds of sexy yourself, Barefoot.”
He reached for her then, and kissed her. When he pulled away he took the bra from her fingertips and tossed it to the side. “No need for this.” He stood and brought her with him. “When will you have the opportunity to skinny-dip on a beach again?”
She didn’t consider herself an exhibitionist, but she wasn’t shy either. With a smile she said, “That ground is hard on the back. Last one in is on bottom the next time.” Then she turned and ran.
Trent caught her at the water’s edge and picked her up around the waist. Together they fell into the water.
She emerged shaking water from her hair and smiling. Trent held her and pulled her deeper. “That’s not fair. We hit the water at the same time.”
“Not exactly. My feet were in first.”
Monica splashed water in his face. “Brat.”
When they were waist deep, he turned her around to face him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let her body float. The water caressed her skin as she let her arms fall to the side and she leaned back. Trent held her, his eyes gazed down at her naked frame. His thumbs found the swell of her breasts and teased them.
“This is the life. I finally get why you like it here.”
“Warm Caribbean water, a beautiful woman.”
He spun her around to keep the sun from glaring in her eyes. “Do you bring women here often?”
“Would you believe me if I told you you’re the first?”
Oh, yeah… the ice was melting. “You don’t strike me as the kind who lies.”
“I never lie.”
“Not even little white lies? You know, the ones where you tell someone you’re fine when you’re really not?”
“Well…”
“Or the ones where you say you’ll call when you know you won’t?” She was fishing now, and cursing herself for doing it. Theirs was a temporary fling. They lived in different places, different lives.
Those warm eyes that melted when he held her hardened a little. “If I tell someone I’ll call, I call. I don’t like games.”
A wave caught them both, and washed over her head. Trent pulled her face from the water. Monica unlocked her legs from his waist and stood beside him. “I don’t care for games either,” she told him. “We both know what we’re doing here… now—”
“Is right here and right now,” he finished for her. It saddened her to think on that.
A shadow passed over his eyes before the salt from his lips met hers with a brief kiss. At least she knew where she stood. No use pretending they could be anything more than what they were right then.
“Well, California, how about I give you a second shot for that top position?” He set her from him with a smile that wasn’t quite as bright as she liked.
“California?”
“You keep calling me Barefoot. I have to have something.”
She liked it. “I’m listening.”
He gave a quick nod toward a rock in the center of the lagoon. “First one to the rock and back wins.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You said you didn’t like games.”
“Friendly competition, not games. I’ll even give you a head start.”
“How much of a head start?”
“I don’t know. Ten… nine… eight.”
Monica dove into the water and kicked her feet. She reached the rock first, but Trent was fast on her heels. It was useless. He was a stronger swimmer and a faster runner. When she reached the beach, he was there and didn’t even appear winded. “Not fair. Home court advantage.” She felt like a kid… a naked kid without a care in the world.
He reached for her and she dodged his hand. The chase was on. Sand kicked up from their feet as Monica managed to escape him with quick unexpected moves. He cornered her toward the cave. She ducked inside, laughing.
The chase was fun, but the catching was so much better. They circled the pool of water inside the cave. Monica considered a dash back outside but thought maybe staying inside would hold a better reward. If her time with Trent was limited, there wasn’t a need to swim it away.
She paused at the exit of the cave and sucked in a deep breath. “A gentleman wouldn’t make me take the bottom twice.”
Trent lifted both hands in the air. “I give up. You can have the top.”
She took a step toward him. “You’re so easy.”
They were both laughing when the world started to shake.
The jolt knocked them both to the ground.
It took a nanosecond for Trent to realize what was happening. This wasn’t a roll-over-and-go-back-to-sleep quake, this was a loud, plane-crashing-into-a-building quake. The sound inside the cave jolted him to his feet. Something was falling, somewhere. He caught sight of Monica who had been standing next to the entrance. She was now on the ground and rocks were falling.
She screamed. He found his feet and rushed to her side. The earth kept moving.
The light from the outside faded with a loud crash. All he could see was Monica being crushed by the falling rock.
When he reached her, he attempted to bring her to her feet to escape the falling rock. She grabbed his shoulders with terror in her eyes. Trent pulled her and she screamed.
Her right leg was pinned under a rock.
The earth grew quiet.
“It’s OK,” he told her. “I’m here.” Above her, the rock still crumbled. One small shake…
Trent peered through the now darkened cave, the only light came from the opening at the top, and he reached for the rock holding Monica in place. “I can’t move,” she cried.
He looked past the blood under the rock and grasped her leg with both hands. He pulled against it and more rock came down a few feet away.
Monica covered her face with her hands. Trent leaned over her to keep more rock from hitting her.
The dust settled and he pulled her hands away. “Listen. I’m going to dig. You’re going to have to push out when I lift the rock.” If he could lift the rock.
Her eyes were moist with unshed tears. “That was a big one, Trent. An aftershock…”
Was inevitable. He knew.
He dug around her leg like a madman. When he felt her leg shift in the sand, he wedged the rock to keep it from collapsing again.
“OK, I’m going to try the rock again. You ready?”
She nodded and rose up on her elbows and bent her good leg.
“One… two… three.” Trent heaved the rock. His back protested, his arms were on fire, and the rock wasn’t moving.
He kept trying, sweat poured off his brow.
Monica’s hand stopped him. “That’s not going to move. We need to dig.”
She sat up as best she could and helped him dig the sand away from her leg. He didn’t even want to think of the pain she must be in. There was blood dripping down her calf, he couldn’t see the rest of her foot under the rock.
As they dug, the rock sank into her leg and the hole. Monica cried out twice as the rock shifted. Trent kept digging. Just as he felt they were getting her loose, the aftershock hit.
Terror took the place of reason and Trent shoved her leg to the space he’d dug out as the rocks started to move again. He saw her toes and reached for her shoulders to pull her away.
Monica screamed.
Several feet from the cave opening, he collapsed with Monica in his lap.
Rock filled the space where she had been trapped.
His arms surrounded her, both of them too shocked to move.
Only when she whimpered did he release the vise grip he had on her.
“It’s OK. You’re safe.” Only again, he wasn’t sure of that either. They were in a cave and a ton of rock separated them from the outside world. The steep walls of the cave didn’t give him a means to climb out from the top and Monica wasn’t in any shape to walk, let alone climb.
“Save the white lies for someone who’s good at them, Barefoot.”
He hugged her again and felt her shiver. They were both caked with sand and dirt and he hadn’t even assessed her leg yet. After scurrying out from under her, he attempted to look at the damage.
“It’s broken,” she said before he even looked.
“Are you sure?” It wasn’t obvious to him looking at it. There was a gash where the rock had fallen on it and it was swelling rapidly. But there wasn’t a bone sticking out where it shouldn’t be… that had to be a good thing.
Monica glanced behind them to the pool of water. “I need to get the dirt out of there.”
He lifted her as gently as he could and settled her next to the pool. He found the bag he packed for their day, thankful it wasn’t on the outside of the cave, and removed the towels from inside. With painstaking slowness, he helped Monica take the surface dirt off her wound. They both had scrapes but other than the one on her leg, none were terribly deep. At one point she shoved the towel in his hand and leaned back. “You’re going to have to do the rest.”
“Do the rest?”
She swallowed. “Scrub the rest out.” Her color went white just saying it.
“That’s going to hurt.”
“Has to be done.”
“You sure?”
“I won’t scream if you don’t.” She attempted to joke, but he knew she was hurting.
I can do this. He cleaned the edge of the towel with the water from the pool. “Hold on.”
She gripped his shoulder.
By the time he was done, there were nail marks in his skin and Monica was ghost white. It took some time, but he soon managed to clean her off and get her dressed. She had a small roll of tape and exactly three gauze pads in her backpack. “Never leave home without it,” she told him.
She’d been taking prophylactic antibiotics since she arrived on the island, so that was one less worry.
One less.
Neither of them spoke the obvious until after Trent managed to arrange Monica on the beach blanket.
“Now what?”
Trent removed his cell phone from his pack.
“No service.”
The expression on Monica’s face didn’t change. “I didn’t think there would be in here. Did you tell Reynard where we were going?”
Trent shook his head. “He’ll know something’s wrong when we don’t come home.”
“The clinic staff will call Walt.”
Trent wedged himself between her and the wall and gave her someone to lean on. “We have some food. Water.”
Monica nodded.
“Someone will find us.”
Someone would. The question not asked was when.