Flash Fiction

The Sea

The seashells hung silent, a little worse for wear after the storm of last night. Rebecca was still sleeping, my numb arm her pillow. It was well past two when the winds stopped and her fear slackened enough to allow sleep to claim her. Her auburn hair a mess and her mouth agape drooling slightly on my chest. I found her as lovely as the sea. Had she sprouted flippers, I would gladly swim to my death, siren song or not.

I smiled at the blue sky, thanking the gods that be. Last night's storm could not have been more perfectly timed. My bravery was waning as I hinted for her to stay last evening. I could see her indecision. The war she was having with herself was weakening what little we had. I wasn't sure if I wanted the vixen or the virtuous to win out. I knew if I asked outright the vixen would win, but I had not the heart to rip the angel out of her. It was too soon though my soul told me it was not.

The first bolt of lightning pierced the night, cracking down from dark clouds, splitting a million times as it found the ocean. Rebecca moved quickly, my arms barely ready as God's cymbals churned our insides. It took a moment to realize I had the angel in my arms. Shaking and so very soft. Storms were lovely to me. To her; monstrous.

Ozone filled the air shadowing the rain to come. Another crack of light and she buried her head in my chest. The thunder was closer, as much felt as heard. She looked up at me, those hazel eyes filled with fear and longing.

"It is just a storm," I whispered, hoping she wouldn't leave my arms. Willing to let go if she did.

"Can I stay?" she asked.

"I...you can't drive in this," I fumbled my answer, not knowing if it was the storm or me that settled her mind. Another bolt crackled, illuminating the peninsula that lay to the south. Again she pressed into me, gritting away the thunder that followed. She looked up with almost a smile after the sound passed.

"I've never liked storms," she said as if I hadn't realized it. My arms circled tighter, selfishly praying for more lightning. The smell of her hair mixed with the fresh storm scent. A pleasing aroma, relaxing with promises of comfort. It strengthened me.

"I would like you to stay," I said, my voice above a whisper so she would not have to guess at my desire. Her lips found mine, angel soft. My eyes closed as I sank into their satin caress, allowing the vixen to part the seal. We shared barely moving air. I moved us slowly toward the bed as her tongue gently teased my upper lip. Lightning burst the darkness and she pulled me closer. Her fear mixing with desire, growing my own. When the thunder came, a moan escaped her lips. The wind, ocean driven and storm fueled, whipped the strands of shells that hung from the bamboo rafters. Their staccato quickly drowned in the sound of the newly driven rain.

The back of her legs found the edge of the bed. Our lips parted and the vixen smiled, pulling me onto the bed as she collapsed upon it. We laughed as we struggled with our clothes, tangling each other, forgetting fasteners and not caring for future functionality. Lightning illuminated perfect breasts. Thunder hid them in my chest. My lips found her exposed skin, fighting the storm-driven goosebumps with soft caresses. More thunder. Louder, the intensity growing.

She pulled me between her legs, fear and lust in her eyes. Rising slightly, she reached for the extra blanket and pulled it over us. I smiled as the hell drive storm disappeared beyond the cloth. Darkness only the lightning could pierce.

"Love me," she demanded, her fear now shielded by woven threads. We joined in the blind symphony of the storm. It was wonderfully primal and achingly beautiful. Angel, vixen and desire I had never felt before.

I lightly pushed her tangled hair behind her ear. The morning light gracing the greens and blues of the inlet as the memories of last night warmed me. The sound of gentle waves lapping the shore our only alarm clock. Her mouth moved, wetting itself as awareness came upon her. Her smile met mine as her eyes, barely slitted, found the light.

"Storms over," I whispered. Her hand lazily traveled down my stomach and between my legs.

"Nope," Rebecca disagreed, "still raging." Everything is better in the light of a new day.