Bright Midnight by Halle, Karina (latest books to read .TXT) 📗

though you have a clear-cut path and I have just a trail of overgrown weeds. I never had my father or mother take much interest in me, in what I do, so I’ve just been trying to find myself and it’s like every time I look around a corner, hoping to see me, find me, end the journey, there’s just another corner. It’s like…I’m constantly out of reach, like the longer I go for, the harder I look, the more elusive I become.”

“Maybe you’re looking too hard,” Anders says. “Maybe what you’re looking for is right in front of you. Maybe you’re not so much seeking out something as you are running away from something.”

Damn. That was a truth bomb and a half. It seems to denote in the car.

“And what am I running away from?” I ask softly.

He gives me a kind smile. “What we’re all running away from. Ourselves.”

We both ponder that as he takes the Datsun off the highway and we start down a narrow road, the scenery catching my attention. Here, there aren’t many trees, just a lot of rock and tundra-like plants and shrubs, but they provide a stunning contrast against the rows of small red, white, and gold houses lined up at the water’s edge.

“Where are we?” I ask, taking out my iPhone and snapping photos through the open window.

“I don’t know the name of this settlement,” he says. “But the guesthouse is called Svegvikka.”

We continue along the narrow road, dipping past the houses, skirting along the Atlantic, until we come to a large white building that looks built right into the sea.

“This used to be a cod factory,” he says to me as he parks the car. “A warehouse for klipfisk. It had good ratings online, so hopefully it’s to your liking.”

I laugh. “To my liking? Anders, I’ve been living out of a backpack forever at this point. I’m used to sharing dorm rooms with smelly foreign boys who snore. Now I’m with you. I couldn’t care less where we stay or go.” I glance at the quaint building. “This looks perfect.”

And it is perfect. The staff is young and friendly and give us a key with what feels like a small anchor hanging off of it. They tell us we can eat in the communal dining room in a couple of hours and that they have a set menu (I’m gonna guess dried salted cod is on the menu), then let us know that if we want to take part in tomorrow morning’s dive, we’re more than welcome to.

“Dive?” I ask Anders as we head up to our room. “People go diving? Here?” I shiver at the thought, the water looks so dark, deep and cold.

“You’d be surprised how much a dry suit can do,” he says to me as we stop outside the door and he inserts the large key. “And the waters here are surprisingly clear. It’s beautiful. I’ve never done it, of course, but I’d like to get my certificate one day.”

I want to ask him about what other dreams and goals he has for himself, the things he wants to do one day, even if he believes that day will never come. But the moment he opens the door, I forget about that.

The room is large and plain, all white from the wood-planked walls to the floor and the bed. But it’s the view that steals my breath away. I drop my bag on the bed and go straight to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the water. It drops straight down. You could literally go fishing right out the window.

“Wow,” I say. “What a view.”

“I agree,” Anders says, and his voice takes out this rough, husky quality that instantly makes me shiver.

I turn around to see him staring at me with a heated look that borders on desperation.

My body immediately kicks into high gear.

We attack each other, kissing each other hard, hands grabbing each other in desperation, my fists in his jacket trying to pull it off, his at my pants, trying to unzip my jeans. We can’t seem to work fast enough and we’re nearly falling over, trying to get at each other, trying to consume.

Anders pushes me against the wall and places hot, fevered kisses down my neck as he brushes the hair off my shoulder, then his head dips to my breasts, where he gently cups and cradles them, before his fingers curl along the neckline of my shirt, pulling it down until my breast is popping free out of my bra. His tongue swirls around my nipple, sucking it into his mouth, making it pebble-hard, my nerves electric.

I moan loudly, my eyes closed, head back against the wall as his wide palms roam over my breasts, down my waist, between my legs. I step back, trying to help him get my jeans and underwear off, and I only have one leg freed before he’s pushing me back again, rougher this time, grunting in my ear.

My god, he’s intense.

Especially when I catch sight of his eyes, the way they burn into me, letting me know exactly how much he wants me, desires me, needs me.

He reaches down between my legs and I immediately let him in, the slow tease and push of his fingers where I’m already wet and waiting impatiently for him, while he pulls my nipple into his hot mouth, pinching the hardened tip between his teeth.

Another greedy noise escapes my mouth as it sends shockwaves down my spine, making me feel like I’m molten hot, my body running wild now with building desire.

“I’ve been dreaming of this all day,” he says hoarsely, the lust dripping in his voice as he kisses my mouth.

“Is that so?” I manage to say against his lips. “I recall something similar this morning.”

“Not enough for me,” he grunts.

“Good,” I tell him flirtatiously, placing my hand against his chest. “Then you won’t mind if I return the favor.”

I reach down and place my palm against the crotch