Light on the Water Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Light on the Water

  ISBN #978-0-85715-184-1

  ©Copyright Mima 2010

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright July 2010

  Edited by Christine Riley

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  LIGHT ON THE WATER

  Mima

  Dedication

  This story exists because of NaNoWriMo.

  Pick up your (electronic) pen and write!

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Gore-tex:W. L. Gore & Associates, Inc.

  Sea Ray Sundancer:Brunswick Corporation

  Bimini Canopy:American Marine Covering & Interiors, Inc.

  Chapter One

  When Sid was twenty-two, a summer storm took her. The morning began as perfection. Four strangers joined up to charter a day’s sail, their northern skin tinged red at the start of their vacation. The burning blue sky held fluffy, tabletop clouds. They sailed above idyllic, cerulean waves, a shade only the tropics could produce. It all disappeared in approximately ten minutes. A grey wall rose from the horizon, sucked the colour from the sky, the heat from the air, and blocked out the sun.

  She knew fear when the storm came so fast. She knew terror as they worked to take the boat back to the resort. Radioing in their distress, the four were silent and tense while they motored as fast as they could in the twenty-foot swells. She knew she was going to die when she washed overboard, and the cleat she’d tied her safety line to snapped off. Her life preserver hardly mattered as she was battered wildly in the black water. None of that morning’s August heat was left. Breathing was a challenge between the cold and the spray. Everyone knew the ocean could be a real bitch. But even with her lifetime of experience, Sid was shocked at how quickly and completely the grand dame had turned today.

  As horrible as it was, she never quit struggling to stay on the surface, to grab a breath. Her brain was shouting, You’re done. You’re dead. But her arms fought the waves, her feet fought to move through the paralyzing cold, her eyes struggled to find the boat’s running lights.

  Then the noise, the awful howling wind and ripping water, simply shut off. And in the silence, she knew peace. There was no pretty light or angelic voices. Just silence and the cold that took her panic, and the slap of the spray. Every bitter wash of icy salt ordered her, commanded her. Stay awake. Stay alive. Breathe. Don’t give up. Wait. All she could hear was her desperately gasping breath, angry and harsh .

  That’s when the merman came to her. Her beautiful miracle. Strong arms rose up behind her and surrounded her. She knew at once he wasn’t from the ship. He was too big and muscular to be any of the people she’d left the marina with. Plus he was nude. And warm. Through her Gore-tex raincoat and pants, she could feel his heat. It was unbelievably stunning, if not very comfortable. Her skin burned and pricked at the difference.

  Efficiently, he peeled off the yellow life vest and dragged her under. Sid laughed. The violence above was present only in the surging pull and push of water pressure on her body, and that passed too as he sank lower. The nude man moved through the water with a bubble of air around his face, peeling her clothes off as he undulated with a dolphin fluke that came out of his spine, a dorsal fin where his ass should be. He was almost twice as long as she. He slowed the most to undo her shoes, spiralling around her like a snake. Then he was back to flicking his tail steadily, his hands busily removing t-shirt, bra, as he pulled her along. She didn’t resist in the slightest. Her clothes were foreign entities only hindering her movement in this realm. They floated away in the darkness behind them, like petals peeled from a flower.

  Yes. This was perfect. This was destiny. He was hers. Of course, he’d come for her. Yes. He was strong and safe and magical. Everything about his presence made her pulse the word yes. She finally noticed she also had a bubble of air. While he worked her pants off, Sid played with putting her hands in and out of the face mask of air. It conformed perfectly to her hairline, scooping to include her ears, where it then jumped to her jaw. She could put her wet hands on her face, breathe on her cupped fingers, then pull them out and watch the silver line of the water’s skin move up and down her hands. She liked it when just her fingertips were stuck through, little raisin-puckered nubs, glowing in the dimness. The storm was so dark, with occasional flashes of lightning turning the water bright. Her skin was very tan. Much darker than his ghostly grey.

  He came up along her back, so hot, so hard, and his arm floated easily under hers and claimed her. She stared at the hand splayed wide on her upper chest. Yes. It was webbed, with short, conical talons instead of square nails. His skin was dark grey, although the long, muscled twelve pack she could glimpse on his belly was a lighter grey. She put her hand on his. Her tummy somersaulted at the energy that flashed between them. The skin was thick, almost like a calloused palm would feel. It was not the sandpaper of a dolphin’s skin, or the one-way suede of a shark. It was like leather. Smooth but tough. Not particularly soft, but interesting.

  He pulled her close, and flexed his body. They zoomed off into the deep. As her hands petted the back of his, she closed her eyes to the incredible light display of storm-touched water around her, and let herself enjoy the liquid pulling her short hair through the water. Every once in a while, he’d change up his rhythm, and the beat would stop their progress enough for the strands to drift out, then be pulled sleekly back as he pushed forward.

  Sid lost all track of time. She only knew she was happy. She was in the arms of her magical man, in her favourite place in all the world, having the most incredible experience of her life. Yes. His body moved in a controlled display of muscle. She had no doubt this zipping speed was slow for him. The pull of water against her breasts made her aware how his arm cradled one, plumping it up. The heat he radiated seemed to end at her nipples, where the flowing sea made them pucker into rigid points. They burned, and it felt good.

  When she opened her eyes again, the sun was much brighter. The lightning was gone, the water warm silk. He angled up and slowed, letting their drift carry them out. The bubble disappeared as they broke the surface and she breathed, deep and even. Spinning in his arms to face him, she let him control their balance, hanging from his shoulders. The sky was cloudy, the water warm but choppy.

  Looking into his grey face was amazing. There was no doubt he was handsome, sculpted like a roman statue. He had a normal human face in every way. He had eyelashes, and eyebrows, and fluffy black hair that stuck up like ott
er fur, slightly spiked. His eyes were black, dark enough to hide everything. His grip on her ribs was so familiar, so right, but his image was utterly alien, something she’d never have been able to imagine even with the help of tequila.

  She grinned at him. “Wow.”

  He solemnly watched her. Then, ever so slowly, as they bobbed on an up swell, he smiled, too. His teeth were a dolphin’s. Rows of conical teeth made for capturing, puncturing, tearing. When she blinked at seeing them, his smile disappeared.

  She looked into his dark eyes. Her gaze linked with his, and she recognized him. There was no question in her mind. She knew that gaze, and, even more exciting, he accepted her knowledge and returned it. He saw her, deeply, clearly. His torso swayed powerfully, the lower half of his body, the powerful, thick peduncle, brushing against her feet every so often. She wanted him. All of him. She yearned to possess him. To be possessed by him. Yes. She had no idea what to say. Her brain was seized by his beauty.

  So she said that. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  His eyes tightened first, then his nose flared, and finally his jaw clenched. His fingers spread wide, so warm. His fluke stilled.

  As they sank, his hands smoothed to her waist, then slowly slid around, one to her tailbone, one to her shoulder, until she was wrapped in his strong arms. The bubble slid into place, but facing so closely, it enveloped both of them, joining them in a private underwater world.

  “You mean that?” His voice was normal. Low, manly, nice. A faint lilting accent tinged his words, almost Irish, almost Island.

  “I do.”

  They stared at each other for more long minutes. All she could hear was her breathing. His hands were fiery, burning the imprint of his fingers into her skin. She flexed her fingers into his shoulders. What did it mean to him to hold her so closely, her breasts now buried in the heat of his chest?

  She remembered hearing her same ragged breathing in the storm, after the silence of death descended around her. “You came for me.”

  “You didn’t want to die…”

  “You saved me.” She was not going to ask why. That had been him, putting the air around her face before he’d even reached her.

  “I didn’t want you to die.”

  Her hands softened on his shoulders, slid to the sloping muscle that connected to his neck, explored the hollows there with her thumbs.

  Finally, his hands moved idly over her skin. Testing, teasing. The flex of his nails zipped across one ass cheek. Those black eyes stared. Her heart tripped harder, thumping. The merman in her arms wanted her, too.

  Her hands slid around the thick swells of muscle to lace together behind his neck. She checked herself, studying those eyes with their faintest rim of white. She didn’t want to freak him out. Had she imagined the interest in his look just above? His hands paused then tightened, fingers gripping her butt firmly. All righty, then. She closed the distance, all of three inches, and kissed him.

  His lips were like fire. His body an inferno that had long since chased any coolness of the water away. His hands were branding her all over her back. She moaned as her lips pressed, danced, clung. Then his head angled and he sent his tongue into her mouth. Salty. Hot.

  Her tongue coiled around his, dared his teeth, and licked his lower lip. It was his turn to moan. She clasped his head with both her hands and took control of the kiss. She opened her mouth wide and demanded he open his. He met her demand and upped it, sweeping the inside of her mouth, nipping her lower lip in command with his predator’s teeth.

  “Your name.” He gasped when her lips journeyed along his jaw.

  “Sid.” She nipped his earlobe. It was tinier than normal, the lobe fused to his neck, not hanging loose. “Yours?”

  His mouth closed around the side of her throat, his lips moving, his tongue sweeping the saltwater drops away. “Jand.”

  It was like his name was another touch, the sound echoing in her belly. His hands were still burning her back, sweeping up her spine, particularly fascinated by the flair of her waist. They kissed, the air around them moist and harsh with their panting. It wasn’t just a kiss, though. It was a matching. Yes. His lips were strong, taking all her passion, meeting it. The longer their lips met, the harder they met, the tighter their hands gripped. Finally, her hands found their way off his neck and shoulders. Her fingers curled into his pecs, grinding the heel of her hand into his pebbled nipples.

  He flexed once, almost a spasm, and the water jerked around her body, a lash of sensation. They looked at each other for a breathless moment. She had never been so aware of another being. There was a soul right in front of her, and it was wrapped in flesh. She wanted it. She wanted that flesh, and that soul, inside her. She slowly rotated her wrists, pressing her whole hand into his chest. His heart was a drum vibrating back at her. He broke away from her eyes and looked down where she touched him, tan against grey.

  “Gold and silver,” he murmured.

  Her breath snagged. His hands slowly drifted up her ribs from her generous hips, and he gently, oh so softly, cupped her breasts. The water had already lifted them, set their fullness drifting. His hands surrounded them, and pressed in as she had done.

  Her breath whooshed out in a shudder. “Jand!”

  He rotated his hands, just a tiny bit, pulling on her breasts. Her fingernails bit, just slightly, into his thick chest. He sighed a very masculine sigh.

  “Jand! Please…” She had to swallow, more of a gulp. His fingers dragged along the softness to the tips, folding around her nipple, where they simply came together… and held.

  “Ahhhh!”

  He stopped, cupping them softly again. “Shhhh. Too hard?”

  “No! No, just… tell me, please—”

  He did it again. Only this time, he pinched the nipple tight, and folded his fingertips in, sending five tiny needles pricking into her softness.

  She thrashed in his arms. The burn, the prick, the pull on each sea-shrouded breast, was like nothing she’d ever felt before in her life. Her hands clutched his biceps, and her legs scrabbled up to his hips.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  She was going to shatter from just his grip on her nipples. “Stop!”

  Instantly, his hands were on her hips, his face solemn. “Shhh.”

  She panted, shivering, wondering if it was possible to sweat when you were in the ocean. Her clit throbbed, her vagina clenching on itself. She was sure she was leaving a slick behind them in the water.

  “Forgive me.”

  “No, that’s not—I didn’t mean—” Her head fell forward onto his chest.

  He gathered her into that wonderful warm hug again, his arms so strong, his body so safe. Her forehead tucked into the hollow of his shoulder. Her breasts were against his ribs, the heat of him and the silky touch of the water driving her insane. Her nipples throbbed and ached, with just a bit of a sting from the salt on the tiny prick points around her nipple. Her knees had left his hips when he pulled her into his hug, and she couldn’t help but notice, along the length of their embrace, that he had no penis.

  When she’d managed to take three breaths, she blurted out her burning question. “Tell me, please tell me, that you can make love to me. Somehow.”

  He stilled, and they continued to drift, listing slightly as he angled into an incline toward his back.

  “You would… have me? Trust me?”

  Yes. Down to her soul she knew that answer. Sid knew she was on the verge of becoming a raving lunatic, begging, pleading, disgustingly desperate. She would do anything to join with this magic, this man who saw her, came for her, cared for her. Sending her hands under his arms, she gripped his shoulders, and with a swift tummy crunch, wrapped her ankles around his waist. His dorsal fin made a handy resting place for her feet. She rubbed her naked, smooth lips against his tummy. Sensation lit up her thighs from the touch of him there, his heat, his rippling muscle.

  “Jand, I trust you, absolutely. I have from the minute
you touched me.”

  Now his hands captured her head, holding her so that his gaze could capture hers. He frowned at her, his face a study in concentration, and amazement. “Sid. Beautiful woman… you would have me as I am?”

  “Beautiful Jand, you’re so fucking sexy I’m about to combust.”

  His fierce look didn’t change. He studied her like he could read her mind. When he clearly wasn’t reading her mind, she took one of her hands, set it on his tummy and went questing. She found his belly button. He was an outie. She was distracted by the waves of muscle that were constantly flexing as his tail moved. Then she loosened her ankles so she could go lower, between her legs. She felt down, and down the ripples of abdomen, too long for a human. Then she found a tight slit. She traced around it, glancing up at his face.

  She was a child of the ocean who was swimming before she could walk. She was a daughter of the water, obsessed with dolphins when other little girls went through their horse phase. She was a modern woman with a college education and she knew what this was. A penile slit. Thank every spirit that ever lived.

  Very gently, she probed it with her thumb, pressing gently, barely, into the hole. He ripped himself away from her, swimming ten yards in a heartbeat.

  Stunned, she flailed briefly, before realizing her bubble of air remained. She blinked at him through the shifting greens of the upper ocean. Her body suspended, raw without him. She would have him. There was no doubt in her mind he wanted her in return. Whatever shyness caused this hesitation, whatever belief he regarding why they couldn’t be together, she’d tear it down.

  He said something to her, which she couldn’t hear. She recognized the headshake for no.

  Frowning, feeling fierce in her own right, she surged forward in a breast stroke, but he backed away, maintaining the distance. He held out a hand for stop then held up one finger. He wrapped his arms around himself, closed his eyes, and screamed. She heard that through the water.