Layers (28 page)

“So, what exactly is this?” I ask, scowling.

“A prelude.” He grins, one simple word with such a meaningful promise.

“You’re killing me here.” I sink my head back to the mattress.

He smirks and casually mutters, “When the embargo is over, I will compensate you, baby, I promise.”

“You are so annoying, I’m serious.” He winks at me and I can’t hold the semi-angry stare anymore.

“Oh Hales, good morning.” He kisses my mouth. “And, I love you,” he smiles and puts me back over his shoulder.

And me you, to pieces.

Continuing with his exaggerated nursing he sets me in one of the rattan chaise lounge by the pool, and serves us with cut fruits and coffee for breakfast.

“Seriously, Daniel. You can go ahead and catch some waves. I’ll stay here and work on my tan.” I look up at him from lying between his spread legs, as he leans back on the cushioned frame of the gigantic, wicker lounger.

“Maybe later, too comfortable to move now.” He side smiles at me behind his shades.

“Where’s the music coming from?” I ask, looking around.

“There’s a music center in the bar,” he nods toward the tropical-island style bar by the pool.

“Quite an eclectic playlist, I’d say. I like it.”

“It’s my Baja carols playlist,” he snorts, amused. “Baja exclusive, cannot be found in California.”

“Carols?” I giggle. “This one is really good, it’s so mellow.” I say about the track that’s playing.

“Charlotte O’Connor, if I am not mistaken. It’s ‘Shine On’,” he tells me.

Resting his hand on mine, he slowly rubs his thumb over my knuckles. He slides down to lie next to me and pulls me toward him so my face is resting on his abs, combing my hair with light strokes. I kiss his taut muscles and close my eyes, utterly indulged.

“Do you come here often?” I ask.

“Is that a pick up line?” he laughs. “Cause you had me with that refined ‘fuck me’ when we first met.”

I laugh and kiss his sun-warmed skin.

“Every chance I get,” he answers, running the tips of his fingers down my spine.

“So usually you surf and …?”

“And I visit my mom. Sometimes I hang out with Rafael and his people.”

I stroke his side, feeling his skin prickle under my touch.

“Are they your friends?”

“Friends.” He sounds mused, as though gauging the word. “I would go with surfing buddies.” He moves to tenderly massage my sore shoulders, gradually releasing the tension.

“You don’t have many friends,” I state.

“No, I don’t,” he answers, casually. I tilt my head up to look at him; even he can’t be indifferent to that.

“How come?” A question begging to be asked.

Looking somewhat impatient, he still answers. “I don’t trust people easily,” he explains. I find his explanation depressing; I can’t imagine what my life would look like without Tasha or Ian.

“Why is that?”

“It’s like dating, Hayley. The more money and publicity you’ve got and the more under the public eye you are, there are more people that try to get closer to you, and most have ulterior motives.” He lets out a forced breath.

“What about friends from the past?”

“Well my best buddy tried to screw me over big time and the rest, you know how it is, everyone is busy … living.”

“How? What happened?” I prop up on my elbows, not able to hide my curiosity.

Daniel’s lips twist; he lifts his shades to rest on his head and briefly runs a hand over his weary, absorbed face. I can feel his body below me stiffen.

“He tried to sue me for the patent on my software, claiming it was fifty percent his.”

I look at him with knitted brows, waiting for him to go on. He cups my cheek, his eyes drinking me in, making my tenseness subside somewhat. Then he smiles and I blink, uncertain where the conversation is going.

“The hilarious part was,” he continues, “he wasn’t even a part of the process. His only connection to evolving the software from an idea to an actual product was that he hung out with me in bars back in college when I needed my breaks.” He smiles to himself, though his tapered eyes reflect pure irritation.

“Meaning?” I demand, my desire to learn more about him piqued.

“We were roommates. We actually came to USF together. I majored in computer science and he in literature.” Daniel pauses for a moment to scratch his temple, looking somewhat pensive, perhaps reminiscing. “When I came up with the idea of securing the net I obviously confided in my best friend. At the time and throughout the process I used to bore him with my doubts in making decisions. Given he was neither a technological person nor had any background whatsoever in programming, he contributed nothing to my problem but being a friend and an attentive listener.”

As he proceeds, his expression gradually obscures. “Once I actually had the beta version and got some investors to have a look at it, which finally led to the beginning of Stark SW, he began to show more interest. I think it was when the first time a rumor about a potential deal was mentioned in one of the magazines that I got an actual letter from his lawyer. I couldn’t believe my eyes, Hales. I thought it was one of his juvenile pranks. I almost congratulated him for pulling it off.”

He shakes his head, his mouth coiled with bitterness. “When I confronted him,” he resumes, “the bastard actually had the nerve to look me in the eyes and tell me that the venture should be both of ours.”

“Sounds like one hell of a friend,” I murmur.

“That he was,” Daniel counters dryly. “When it got to a court hearing he obviously didn’t have any solid grounds or evidence to prove his BS and so the case was closed just as quickly as it started.”

“Did you ever speak to him again?”

He takes a deep breath. “No, I made sure our paths didn’t cross again.”

“So it all started in college, your company. That’s remarkable,” I say admiringly.

“Yes, I worked my ass off, juggling between courses and developing my program till it became this small operation called Stark Software.” He scratches his upper lip with his thumb, and a glint of mischief appears in his eyes.

“So not a lot of close people,” I conclude quietly.

“I’ve got you now, Hales.” He radiates his sweet boyish smile, the one that’s reserved only for me.

“And what about ladies back then? Was it only work and study?” I ask, thinking about a younger version of him full of hormones in a promiscuous environment such as college.
Bet he was some attraction
. A naughty smirk forms on his lips as he murmurs, “Oh, there were plenty. I had my share of fun, rest assured, baby.”

I slap his abs playfully and feign a frown.
I could line up each and every one of these blank faces in a row next to a gutter and execute their sentence for ever touching him. And I’d be doing it with a song in my heart.

“Hey, it was before you,” he raises his hands up in surrender and chuckles.

“What was it?” I say as though to myself. “Ah,” I grin at him teasingly. “Adultery, Daniel Stark, adultery. Even past events are now considered adultery.” I mirror his words from when Dave called me; he chuckles again and bends to plant a lush kiss on my lips.

“Plenty, Daniel?” I raise an eyebrow.

“What can I say,” he smirks. “I had to release the tension of all the hours I spent working hard.” He shrugs and I let out a grunt.

“So just casual sex, nothing serious?”

“Didn’t have the time or the inclination.”

Though I absently shake my head, I’m surprised at how similar we are after all.

“Well, sweetie, you want to talk about your past in that department?” he questions with a semi-annoyed yet wicked smile. I wince. “Thought so,” he mutters. “Don’t worry, that’s the last thing I want to hear about, especially here, given my punching bag is back at home.”

~~~

When Daniel eventually leaves for the beach I fall asleep under the caressing warmness of the noon sun, surrounded by “Baja Carols” pleasantly playing in the background.

“Hayley,” I am awakened by an unfamiliar voice; turning sleepily to the source, I notice two dark figures standing nearby. Blinking, I lift my hand to block the blinding light and with the shade I can get a better look at Rafael and another guy who seems his age and who actually resembles him. Looking around I realize Daniel hasn’t yet returned.

“Hi Rafael,” I say, confused about why he’s here.

“Hello Hayley, is Daniel around?”

“He went surfing,” I say, bothered by the way Rafael’s friend’s eyes trail slowly over my barely-covered body.

“I came to pick up a couple of textbooks I left here yesterday.”

“You can go ahead and get them, the house is open.” I nod toward the balcony doors.

“Just going to get them,” he mentions to his friend as he makes his way into the house. Feeling uncomfortable with the blunt gaze of Rafael’s friend I turn to sit upright. The thought of lying down under his observant eyes makes me self-conscious.

“Nice view,” he says with a sleazy grin, his eyes somewhat glossy, stare fixed on my breasts. I nod, squirming.
Will he stop with the gawking? What is he doing?
To my shock he boldly turns to sit next to me on the lounger, his closeness at the verge of intrusion. He’s so close his thigh almost touches mine and I can smell fumes of alcohol on his heavy breath.

“We can communicate from a distance,” I say, disturbed but making an effort to be subtle, given he is Rafael’s friend, perhaps even Daniel’s. Maybe I’m misreading the situation.
But I want him far away from me, as far as possible
.

“Why?” His eyes flicker wickedly. And then, to my complete alarm, he sends his finger running up my thigh, running up, way too close to the hem of my bikini bottom, inches from sliding under the fabric. He murmurs croakily, “You are so hot.” My heart beats frantically, probably palpable. I couldn’t be more repulsed by his touch.

And just as I am about to slap him and push him the hell away, I hear Daniel seethe, “What the f …?”

Next, as though in slow-motion, I watch him grab the guy by his shirt, yanking him from beside me, throwing him to the opposite side of the deck as if he were weightless. Losing his balance, Rafael’s friend falls onto the parallel matching recliner. Distracted by a moving figure, I turn to see Rafael standing by the door that leads to the deck, observing the scene from the side. From the expression on his face I realize he is as shocked as I am. He looks utterly exasperated as he begins to scold his friend in Spanish.

Daniel seeks my gaze. Finding it, he stares at me, absorbed in checking whether I was hurt in any way.

“I’m okay,” I mouth quietly, still shaken. His eyes smolder. His entire psyche reflects a need for blood. I’ve seen him angry before, but never like this. He has a lethal glint in the depths of his stare.

He turns to look at Rafael who shrugs with a tormented expression, what appears to be embarrassment at his friend’s behavior. I actually feel sorry for him.

Daniel returns his stare to the other guy and in an ice-covered voice, says, “Next time, if you even accidentally breathe her way, you will end up needing to breathe with the help of a machine.” Slightly releasing his clenched fists he adds, “Now get the hell out of my house, before we both regret the outcome.” Luckily it takes Rafael’s companion less than a few seconds to sober up and comprehend the magnitude of Daniel’s threat and makes himself scarce in the blink of an eye.

“I am so sorry, Daniel, Hayley,” Rafael stutters, completely sincere. Daniel just glances his way with the same expression that’s inhabited his face since he came back.

“It’s okay, Rafael, you did nothing wrong, it’s not your fault,” I say in a velvety voice. Trying to further soothe him I change the subject and ask whether he was able to find his textbook, at the same time trying to provide Daniel with an explanation of Rafael’s presence.

“Make sure he doesn’t set a foot here ever again. You can leave now,” Daniel growls. I stare at him, concerned, ready to jump in, hoping he won’t take it out on Rafael.

“Daniel,” Rafael tries, but the look Daniel grants him makes him stop. He just nods and takes it as a cue to leave.

What a brutal awakening to such a serene sleep.
I sigh, still somewhat shaken.

As we’re left to ourselves, I look up at Daniel, and he stares back at me, still looking infuriated. There’s something about the way he looks: his wetsuit hanging loose around his waist, his exposed chest, tanned, bare and carved, his damp hair falling in gold clusters over his tawny, handsome face and the gaze in his eyes, that raw murderous gaze. A wild need starts inside of me, drawing every part of me to him. Trembling inside with raging desire I stand up and walk toward him. I inch up and grab his face with both hands as I reach his side. Pulling him forcefully, I literally drink his mouth. It takes him less than a second to register my intentions and as he does, he reciprocates my outburst in the same animalistic manner; anger quickly shifts to feral need. In no time we’re all over each other, stroking, touching, biting, kissing, and gasping anxiously as though fighting for the ultimate release, and right after reaching it we both collapse on the recliner. We level our short rapid breaths in laced hands, deep in thought.

Daniel rests his forehead against mine and with his closed eyes murmurs, “If something ever happens to you …”

I squeeze his hand.

“I love you too,” I whisper to his lips.

Chapter 29: Hippie Commune

“Ready to meet Mommy?” Daniel asks, with a wide smirk.

“Sure.” I beam back at him, though now that I’m here I am a tad nervous. Knowing how he feels about his mother, all of a sudden it becomes extremely important to me that she’ll like me too and approve of me.

“It’ll be fine, she’s cool.” Daniel winks at me, squeezing my clenched fist reassuringly.

I am taken aback by the look of the house as we get closer; it could not have been more different than what I had pictured; it’s a one-level, small, old but charming house with an equally small yet groomed garden. The house couldn’t have more than three bedrooms. The place screams modesty, not exactly what I anticipated for Daniel Stark’s mother. Daniel opens a rusted turquoise gate to let us in. Stepping in, I notice that the garden is surrounded by close-knit grapevines that give it a fairytale, secret garden look.