Title: Underwater
Author: Maayan
Nahmani
Genre: Contemporary
Romance
Release Date: June
26, 2016
In an instant, my
world turned upside down
Because of one
incident, my life will never be the same
Every day I struggled
to breathe
Every day I went
through the motions
I felt too much
I was numb
I was drowning
I was lost inside the
black
So they made me go
there
I was already there,
watching from the dark
And then I met him
And then I saw her
He scared me to death
She took my breath
away
He was darkness
She was my light
They whispered he
can't be touched
She was the only one
I could touch
I couldn't be with
him, they needed me
I fucking needed
her
So I told him I would
be his friend
I told her I would be
her friend. For now.
But I couldn't resist
him for long
She finally realized
that she'll always be mine
We were a hot mess
We were the perfect
kind of mess
Then reality dawned
on me
Then my demons broke
loose
I was underwater,
trying to break through to the surface
I reached out my
hand, trying to pull her to shore
Could he really help
me?
Would she accept me,
scars and all?
This was us
This was our story
Author's Note:
"This book is
based on true events and contains sensitive subjects that may be a trigger to
some readers, such as violence, abuse and post-traumatic stress disorder. It
also contains a parent with cancer. It is recommended for ages 18 and
up." Safe. No cheating/OW.
I pulled my car next
to Dorian’s and turned off the engine. I couldn’t believe I’d actually come
here. I was scared shitless to let someone in, especially now when all my
attention needed to focus on one thing: my dad. Shaking my thoughts loose, I
grabbed my purse, exited the car, and made my way over to where Dorian was
waiting for me.
Stormy clouds drifted
across the sky, hiding the moon and darkening the neighborhood. Dorian stood at
the base of a street lamp where it illuminated his features, softening the
rugged angles of his face. He was attractive in a rough-around-the-edges kind
of way, but now – as I let myself really look at him – I thought he was the
most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
He left me breathless.
“We should go up,” he
said. “It’s getting cold.”
He took my hand and
led me in the direction of his home. God, his home. The place where he lived. I
was going to see where he slept, ate, and took showers.
Shut up… Don’t think
about showers.
We took the stairs
two floors up until we reached a wood door. After unlocking it, he waited for
me to go in before him. As I passed the threshold, he said in an awful British
accent, “Welcome to my humble abode.”
I looked back at him
and grinned. I found myself loving playful Dorian. “Why thank you.”
When he turned on the
lights, I sucked in a breath. I was here, and there was no turning back. I gave
myself a moment to focus on the apartment. Floor to ceiling windows consumed
the entire back wall. The living area was an open concept, providing a perfect
view of the whole space. Dorian’s apartment was nothing I had expected. A
Victorian chandelier with a modern twist hung from the ceiling over a rustic
dining room table. And even though the space was open, it had a cozy feel. The
warm tones of dark blues and light creams contrasted together beautifully to
make the room feel inviting.
And beautiful.
“So, what do you
think?” he asked hesitantly.
I eyed him as he
looked everywhere but at me.
“I really like it.”
Then I added, “I like it so much I’m afraid I might never leave.”
His eyes landed on
mine in a flash and a smile spread across his full lips. “I’d love that,” he
whispered.
He took a step
forward and I took a step back. I knew that if he caught me, it would be the
end of our friendship. I would cave. I would fall into his strong arms and
never let go. I wasn’t ready for him.
He approached me, his
pace steady and his steps sure. His eyes were fixed on mine, making it hard for
me to breathe.
When I felt my back
hit the wall behind me, I knew there was nowhere for me to go. I drew in a
sharp breath.
Game over.
Waves of heat washed
over me when he placed his hands on the wall beside my head. My tumultuous
heart threatened to break out of my chest.
“Did you mean that?”
he asked, his deep voice in my ear, rattling my thoughts.
My eyes fluttered
closed. “M-mean what?”
“The song. Did you
really mean that?”
His finger touched my
chin and lifted my head. “Open your eyes.”
I shook my head. I
wouldn’t be able to control what he would see reflected in them. And I had a
feeling my eyes would tell him everything my mouth was afraid to say out loud.
That I was afraid.
That the world kept
beating me down and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
That I didn’t know
how to help my family.
That I wanted him.
Wanted to be with him.
“Open your eyes,
sweetheart.”
I gritted my teeth,
refusing to give in.
Heart beats and
erratic breaths were the only sounds in the room. Then I heard him mumble,
“Fuck it,” and without warning, Dorian’s lips crashed against mine. My eyes
flew open and then they fluttered closed again when my hands found their place
on his chest. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to push him away or pull him closer. He
kissed me deeply and with purpose, like he had been starving for it. Then his
touch became gentle. The pad of his finger ran along my cheek, and then I felt
the brush of his lips against mine as the kiss softened, caressing them
lightly. When he bit my bottom lip, I gasped. He soothed the stinging pain with
his tongue, slowly grazing it until it found its way back into my open mouth.
His hand traveled to my thigh, lifting it up and wrapped it around his waist.
He pulled me closer, until I was glued to his hard body. With my other leg, I
had to stand on my tiptoes, because he was so damn tall. I could feel his
hardness on my stomach.
He was hard for me.
My mind awoke from
its daze, and I began to realize what was happening. Even though I loved the
feel of his lips on mine, I was mad. How could he do that? How could he kiss me
without my permission, after he said he would only be my friend? After he promised
me we would take it slow.
Suddenly, I was
furious.
I shoved him but he
was a brick wall. He didn’t feel my pathetic attempts to push him away, so I
pushed him harder and punched him across the chest. He brought my thigh down,
grabbed my hands and pinned them to the wall above my head. He was like a man
possessed. It felt like nothing in this world would make him stop kissing me.
Not even me.
An internal battle
took place inside my head. I wanted to kick his ass, to punch him in the face
for taking what he wanted without asking. For making me give in, for
surrendering myself to the emotions that overwhelmed me. But even more than
that, I wanted to cling to him as my heart stepped up its pace while his tongue
circled around mine.
I needed more.
I lunged forward, but
my captive hands prevented me from getting closer. I kissed him back with
eagerness, my tongue connecting with his. His hands let go of mine and he
cupped my face. We kissed as if we’d done this a million times before.
His fingers moved
along my jaw, then up until they were buried in the roots of my hair. He
tightened his grip and pulled me even closer, swallowing me whole.
My hands were busy
doing their own touching. I began at the base of his stomach, feeling his abs
flexing under my touch. My fingers rose until they reached his strong and broad
chest, up to his collarbone, until they touched the scar on his chin. I traced its
path, feeling the raw and carved place where smooth skin use to be. I tore my
mouth away and kissed the jagged lines. He needed to know that it was a part of
him and he was beautiful to me, scars and all.
His body stilled, but
I carried on with my inspection. When I was satisfied I hadn’t missed a spot, I
looked up and found him watching me, his eyes wet with unshed tears. They
shined with sadness, acceptance, warmth, and affection.
I watched him
intently as I braced myself to expose my soul to him. It was time. I would not
run away anymore.
I opened my mouth and
said, “I meant every word.”
I am twenty-six years
old and I live in a small town in Israel.
My family and I were
going through some difficult times not too long ago and one day I was confiding
in my best-friend about everything. I didn’t know how to deal with it all. Then
she suggested I should write a book about it. I looked at her as if she had
grown another head and dismissed the idea on the spot. But the seed had been
planted, and day after day, little by little, without realizing it – I started
writing.
That’s how Underwater
was born.
I found writing to be
cathartic, healing. Something that helped my mind unwind and put things
in perspective. I discovered a magical world where I traveled between
imagination and reality. Writing became my home and I never wanted to leave.
I love to read,
write, listen to music, edit videos, and play the guitar. I am always looking
for the next creative thing. I also like a good movie and a glass of wine.
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