I am black silk against the moon.
He lifts me higher to clamp his mouth on me, and I cradle his head against my chest; my face burrows into his black hair. It tickles my neck. He carries me to the car and sets me down softly on the hood, my bare back registering the residual warmth of the engine’s heat. But the warmth that radiates through me has nothing to do with the car. My fingers rip open his jeans, and I push him away with my foot to squirm out of my shorts. He moves my foot off his belly and runs his hands down my thighs. The question burns in his eyes.
My answer is to hook my heels around his back and pull him to me.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispers, pressing his body against mine.
“I want you now, Dom.”
I love that first push.
All of them, really.
I like how we say no more words but have expressed . . . everything.
“Do you see that?” I point to the east. Miles away, flashes of lightning split the sky, flickering across it in enormous white sheets. It’s so far away I can’t hear the thunder. There’s hot wind, though, and it whips against my skin as I stand naked on the hilltop with my arms stretched over my head. I feel feral. Elemental, like lightning could shoot from my fingertips.
Clicking noises fire off behind me. “Put that camera down,” I tell Dom. “Can’t you enjoy the moment without filming or snapping pictures?” I don’t actually mind, though. He sees something through that lens that magnifies reality.
“Nope. I have to capture you in all your wild glory. You don’t know how ragingly beautiful you are. You’re larger than life, Ry.”
I look over my shoulder and think, If I were, would I have to prove it all the time?
A rueful smile passes over my face. That sounds like something Joe would ask me. Or my dad. Why is brave only brave if it’s saving a life or fighting for your country? Why isn’t it considered brave to live your life to the fullest? I see so many people afraid to do that simple thing. We all die. Might as well skid into death, breathless and laughing, with life still clinging to you like perfume.
My clothes are scattered on the desert floor, so I gather them up and give them a shake, in case a spider or scorpion has scrabbled inside, before slipping them back on. Dom stares at the faraway lightning with his brows furrowed. He’s got some words for me?—?probably about our fight today?—?and is trying to figure out how to spit them out.
“I have to tell you something,” he finally says, which makes my hands curl into fists. “Your dad asked me to be in charge of the big-way for the corporate suits.”
“Great!” Maybe there’s hope after all. “So you can add me?—”
“He’s given me firm orders that you are not to be included in the jump.” I spin around to face him. His forehead creases as though he’s cringing to tell me this. “I know how bad you want to do it. I’m sorry, babe.”
“I will do it.”
“I gave my word.”
His voice rings with apology and helplessness, but that’s not soothing me. “You promised to screw me out of helping my family? Out of possibly being a part of the X Games? What about being fair to me? You know my dad’s being unreasonable.”
“It’s not my call. If it were, I’d let you do it.”
“You’re not one of his soldiers. Not every one of his orders has to be followed.”
“This one does. I hate to put it this way, but it’s not about you, so don’t pull any crap and jeopardize this for the rest of us or jeopardize your family’s business. It’s too important.”
While Dom has remained calm, my feelings are a tempest in the middle of my chest. I stand in the summer wind and puff through my nose like a bull deciding whether or not to charge. I want to light into him, even though it’s not his fault. I want to rip the goddamn wings off my dad’s planes. I want the entire big-way team to throw their rigs on the ground and refuse to jump unless I’m with them, like some movie football team. I want my dad to shake his head in defeat and say yes, yes, of course I’m needed.
Yes, I’m good enough.
Yes, I’m worthy.
One thing I won’t do is cry the tears that are closing up my throat and blurring my eyes. Behind all this talk of being “special” and “larger than life,” I realize, I just want a normal little thing, my father’s love and respect, and I’m sure he’s not capable of giving it to me.
“Say something.” Dom reaches for me. “It’s scary when you’re quiet like this. I don’t know if you’re calming down or plotting to bend the world to your will.”