Escaping Christian

14: The Bubble

Beautiful song. Proof Enough - Will Joseph Cook

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I tied the rope around my robe tighter as I sat on the ledge on the veranda. It was a gorgeous morning. Barely seven o'clock. My damp hair was drying quickly in the morning heat. Outside, people were already headed to the beach, probably to avoid the rush later on. The dial tone probably only sounded around four before she picked up. She was always awake at odd time, always a nocturnal soul, but it was one of the many things I loved about her.

"Hello?"

I smiled at the sound of her voice. "Hey mom."

"Chelsea, baby! Where on earth are you now? You know what the caller ID number said? About twelve digits."

"I'm still in Egypt." I said tugging on the chord connecting the receiver to the keypad. "Still working. How's dad? The boys?"

"Your father's fine and so are the boys. Greg's asleep upstairs, we had dinner last night with the twins and Greggy drank just a little too much. You were missed, sweetheart. When are you coming home?"

I glanced into the empty bedroom. The shower was still running so hopefully he couldn't hear us. "I'm not sure yet. I've got a lot going on but I'll try to be home for Christmas."

"Okay baby. I love you so much."

I blinked away my tears and smiled sadly. "I love you too mom. Send my love to dad and the boys I'm sorry for calling so late I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I will and no matter what time of day or night it is, I'll answer it."

I hung up and pushed the phone to the other end of veranda. I missed them. And I knew it would be a long time before I would see them again, at least not until this dangerous situation was sorted out. Hearing my mother's voice was just what I needed to carry on the last leg of this journey.

As I hopped off the ledge and turned toward the sea, the shower turned off. My fingers grazed over my neck, his mark had long since vanished. Well, the first one had. The second on my inner thigh, almost but not yet. I'd woken just before him to shower and he was still asleep when I'd grabbed the phone. He looked downright angelic asleep, his bare chest slowly moving up and down with each breath; his lips slightly parted.

I wanted to smack him awake just to stop myself from staring at him.

He bit me last night. The second time, fine, I welcomed it because when it came to pleasure with Christian Beaumont, he gave and gave and was happy to give more. But the first time... he had no right. We agreed to sex, nothing more. Sharing blood, biting one another implied more.

The man, however, exceeded any expectations I had and then some. Fire and ice, I once described him. He burnt me to a crisp and I craved more. I needed more. I was addicted and that frightened the living shit out of me.

So caught up within my own thoughts, his touch brought me right out of it. His body surrounded mine against the ledge, the towel and my robe barely a barrier between us. His arousal was apparent, but he did nothing more than skim his nose along my neck and his hands over my arms.

"Who were you on the phone to?"

I turned in his hold and stared into his dark eyes to watch his reaction. "My mother."

His hands roamed over my hips as he inhaled and exhaled a minty breath. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yep. Okay."