Chapter 182: Chapter 183
Tor POV
Kyra: I wanted to say hi and let you know I'm thinking about you.
I'm instantly awake and smiling as I type back.
Me: Hey you. I was thinking about you too. I had microwave meatloaf for dinner. I have no idea what I just ate. It may have been iguana meat. I miss your dinners. ;)
Kyra: I see what I mean to you now ;) You're probably buried in white fur too, huh?
Me: Pretty much.
Kyra: I'm not sure I feel bad...
Me: I miss everything. Not just you taking care of me.
Kyra: I miss you, too.
My eyes latch onto those words and I'm very aware of how quickly and naturally we slip into these moments of what I can only think of as longing. And flirting. I attempt to U-turn the conversation with idle chatter.
Me: I have good news. RemElara the dog we've been trying to catch by the river for months? We got him today.
Kyra: Omg finally!!!!! Is he okay?
Me: He is now. He was actually stuck IN the river, off Suicide Bridge. Thalen had to go in on a rope to get him out.
Kyra: Holy crap! That’s amazing. I'm so proud of you guys!!!
Me: Thanks. He's super thin but he's going to be fine. Mom’s found a foster for him already.
Kyra: I'm so glad he's finally safe.
Me: Me, too. So, are you enjoying Maine?
Kyra: Yes. Sailor came by a few days ago and took me for lunch. He was visiting a friend who lives out here. He's a really sweet guy, very quiet and polite. I'm designing a tattoo for him.
The mystery meat dinner turns in my stomach.
Me: That was nice of him.
Fucking asshole drifter.
Kyra: Yeah. We had a nice day. So, Katherine's friend is a photographer and took some pix of me for my portfolio. She thinks maybe I could do some shoots with her and get paid, like for products, or maybe even for a magazine.
Me: That would be great. I'm proud of you.
I'm still stuck on Sailor spending the day with her. I want to ask her if they’re dating, but I don’t want to come off like some jealous teenager. Could he seriously have friends out there, conveniently located near Kyra’s aunt? I'm not buying it.
Kyra: We'll see what happens. Do you want to see some of the pix she took?
Before I can answer, a photo begins to load on my cell phone screen. I was expecting the usual pose of her leaning against a tree or sitting by the ocean with her hair blowing. I sure as hell was not expecting to see her stretched like a cat across a white silk-covered bed, her long honey-blonde hair flowing all around her, wearing a black bra that's just barely covering her full breasts with gold glitter sparkling across her perfect tummy leading down to matching black lace-edged panties. One of her legs is bent up, lying over her other thigh, the hint of her tight ass curved up. And on her feet, those little black leather boots that make my blood pressure spike every time she’s got them on.
My mouth suddenly feels like it’s filled with a hundred cotton balls, and my heart is jackknifing in my chest.
I swallow, near panic, as another photo loads. This one shows her kneeling on the bed, her hair longer, hanging down in front of her naked chest, just barely covering her breasts. Her jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped to show off cherry red panties. A hole is torn from just above the knee to her inner thigh, the worn and frayed denim edges revealing delicate flesh that’s begging to be touched.
A war erupts in me. Part of me fights to throw my phone across the room and never see her this way again, while the other part hungers for more. My cock grows harder with anticipation as another photo starts to come into view beneath the others.
Shit. I can't take it anymore.
This one nearly does me in when it fully loads. She’s sitting in the sand at the edge of the beach in some kind of mermaid costume. Her long legs are covered by the tight, sparkling scaled material, the water lapping up onto her. She’s leaning back, looking up toward the sun, her breasts held by a bikini top of seashells, jutting upward in the most tantalizing way. A tiny starfish hangs from a chain around her neck, resting in the valley between her breasts. A thin gold headband wraps around her head, holding back her hair that is somehow almost three times longer than it was the last time I saw her. It’s now streaked with blue and green to match her mermaid fin, flowing down her back and pooling onto the sand behind her.
I’m so lost in the photos, scrolling back up to look at each one again, that I forget she’s on the other side of the phone waiting for me to say something.
Sitting up, I ignore Diogee’s accusing stare as I type back to her with shaky fingers.
Me: A little warning would have been nice.
Kyra: I wanted to surprise you.
Me: You definitely did.
The pictures are slowly destroying me, demolishing my walls, burning up my self-control like an unstoppable inferno. I hate her for forcing me to see her this way and for making me want her so fucking much that my body is literally aching for her.
No. I don’t hate her. I love her. I need her.
Kyra: You don't like them?
I’m jerked back to reality as I realize I’m the first and only man to ever see her this way — as a woman and not a little girl. I know all her insecurities, and I know how hard this was for her because she doesn’t see herself as sexy or attractive. She’s a jeans, t-shirt, and boots kinda girl. She’s effortless and clueless in her own beauty, and that just makes her even more attractive. I can only guess how vulnerable she feels, sitting there waiting for me to say something reassuring to her.