French Queen's Pendants

We had a picnic on the shore.

The sea, as if nuzzling, gently licked the sandy beach, whispering quietly with the palm trees. The palmate giant trees softly dropped coconuts into the warm sand. The soft splash of waves and the distant roar of the surf at the reef could be heard.

I am lying on my back and looking at the white, like balls of cotton candy, sugary clouds. It's quiet, peaceful in this paradise corner... the waves softly rustle...

 — It's nice...

Veniamin sighed, inhaling the salty air.

 — Ye-e-es... — he quietly responded.

I rise on my elbow and examine him: a swarthy brunette, black eyebrows set wide apart, an aquiline

profile. He is half-lying, leaning on his elbow, his other hand — on his leg, knee at a right angle. The damp breeze plays with his hair — soft, flyaway, falling in waves onto his shoulders. Veniamin is watching as a white sailboat sways on the azure expanse of the sea in the distance: his brows are furrowed, his eyelids half-lowered, his large, languid black eyes are shaded by thick, long lashes... He doesn't notice my gaze.

 — I have never felt so good anywhere, — I finally said. — Thank you for bringing me here...

He turned at the sound of my voice and smiled.

 — Oh, come on, Vika... I wanted you to unwind a little.

Veniamin looked at me with melancholy. I caught in his gaze not only sadness, but also a kind of pity, as if I needed sympathy.

 — Are you still upset about that stupid story?

 — Stupid story? — I repeated in a wooden voice. — Oh, please, Venya, stop. You're ruining my mood.

 — I'm ruining her mood, — a pained grimace appeared on his face. — Great...

Really, why did I snap at him? After all, it was Veniamin who agreed to help when the cops almost nabbed me. It's good that everything worked out, and those blockheads believed that I was with him that night...

I felt myself blush deeply. So he wouldn't notice, I hastily got up and walked towards the reefs.

It grew dark suddenly, as always in the tropics, and the soft, warm breath of the wind played in my hair.

I turned around sharply. Veniamin was standing behind me. My breath caught. I jumped back, but had to stop — the very edge of the water was already behind me.

He approached me.

 — I scared you. Sorry, I didn't mean to. — His voice was calm. He seemed to feel no emotion.

We were silent.

 — I don't want to go back there...

 — Vika, you don't have to go back. We'll think of something... Everything will be fine...

His hand slid through my hair. I threw my head back, silently, searchingly looked into Veniamin's eyes. Our gazes met.

And then something happened to us. Usually in such cases they say: 'a spark ran'... But it seemed to me like a powerful electric discharge.

My heart fluttered. Excitement seized me, echoing with a flutter in my chest. From his closeness, I felt as if the ground was disappearing from under my feet.

 — Are you saying that to me, or are you reassuring yourself?

 — Of course, to you, — Veniamin whispered, leaning over me.

Our eyes are opposite each other, but it lasted only an instant...

And then, as if unexpectedly breaking through the dam of the sky, rain poured down. It couldn't even be called rain, — it was a mass of water crashing down to earth, solid and unstoppable. A real tropical downpour.

In one minute we were soaked from head to toe. Stumbling and slipping, we rushed to save our things, our feet sinking into the swollen sand. The downpour beat furiously against our soaked, body-clinging clothes.

The beach house extended towards the shore with a spacious veranda. Right by the house, I slipped and almost fell off the cliff, but Veniamin managed to catch me in mid-air. I lingered in the unexpected embrace. Lightning flashed, and I saw his wet face. Thunder crashed. For a moment, I pressed myself against him with my whole body, my lips burying into his wet shirt. The downpour poured down on us from above.

I pulled away:

 — Thank you, Venechka!

And we ran on, hunched under the weight of the wet blanket thrown over us.

It was dim inside the house. Sometimes flashes of lightning illuminated the interior. Although it was warm inside, I shivered from the cold. Water dripped from our clothes directly onto the white carpet, leaving wet spots and dirty smudges.

 — I'll go change, — I announced, my teeth chattering from the cold.

In my room, I pulled off the blouse soaked and dirty with sand and changed into a turtleneck.

The elements were raging in full force. The sea was agitated. The wind tore at the defenseless palm trees. Occasionally thunder rumbled, and I involuntarily flinched from its roar.

I realized that the thoughts that 'a change of scenery' would calm me down were self-deception. The joy that had seized me on the shore had dissipated like morning mist. I walked around the room. I felt I didn't want to live anymore. Anything would do right now, even the scissors from the desk drawer. Coming to my senses, I found myself holding those very scissors and absently examining them.

Veniamin grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my hand behind my back. I involuntarily took a step forward and found myself pressed against his chest and felt his warmth in the coolness of the approaching evening. It spread through my whole body with a sweet languor, his scent intoxicated me.

 — What are you thinking of doing? — His voice, full of anxiety, seemed to wake me, and his strong hands disarmed me, depriving me of the ill-fated scissors.

 — Just please, don't say anything now... — I whispered pleadingly. — I already know what you're going to say! Be quiet, I beg you, — I moved away and went to the other end of the room.

 — Vika, you forced me to confirm my words...

 — Enough...

 — ... I spun some tall tales about that...

 — Enough!

 — ... what you were doing in the morning when Marina was killed! Damn her, whoever she was!

 — Enough!!!

 — ... and you ask me to say nothing?!

Veniamin stood by the window and was solemnly and eerily illuminated by flashes of lightning. He paced thoughtfully back and forth, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Pale and tense, he seemed unable to find words to express the feelings overwhelming him.

The rain was still pouring down rapidly, in sharp streams. The wind rushed forward, driving cold waves onto the shore.

 — Tell me, what's happening to you? I want you to tell me everything, because I need to know what to do next...

 — Leave! — I uttered. — Leave. Just don't get involved in this, I beg you.

 — It can't be like this, Vika, — he said in a stern but restrained tone. — I thought we agreed to act together.

 — Together? Don't try to sweet-talk me! We can't even agree on the little things, let alone work out a strategy! It's a collapse! A complete failure, Venya! It's over! Understand? Over!!

Suddenly tears welled up in my eyes and poured down in a torrent. They rolled down my cheeks and disgustingly flowed down my neck, under the collar. Tears blurred my vision.

 — Leave right now! — I wiped them with my fist and hurriedly muttered: — I won't explain anything... I don't need your help, go to hell. That car accidentally went off the cliff... it was an accident...

 — Tell that to someone else! You'll make me believe in ghosts... What high-handed arrogance!? Why did you get involved in all this?...

 — It's none of your damn business! — I yelled and with all my might collapsed onto the bed, covering my face with my palms.

I heard Veniamin sigh, then he came over to me and sat down beside me. I took my hands away from my face and looked at him carefully, my eyes darting from feature to feature. He was handsome: an open collar, eyes burning in the darkness, and strands of hair falling onto his forehead.

He stroked my hand.

 — And besides... I thought I wasn't lying to the police. After all, if it comes to that, you could very well have been with me that night. Right? — Veniamin switched to a whisper and touched my cheek.

I looked into his eyes, unable to tear myself away from their alluring depths.

His fingers touched my skin cautiously and tenderly. His hand slid over the turtleneck and found my breast. I didn't object, just closed my eyes, sighed, and moved a little. He lay down beside me. I intertwined my fingers with his. We clung to each other without words. He kissed me slowly, gently caressing my lips with his. The kisses grew hotter, more furious...

Kissing my neck hotly and tenderly, he whispered such crazy words, so passionate...

He couldn't catch his breath. Something constricted his chest and his breath escaped in a barely audible wheeze. But my lips, insistently seeking his lips, constricted him more. My hands, shamelessly approaching the very center of his male power, constricted him. I myself, all of me, constricted him: with the scent of my skin, the gleam of my eyes, the perfection of the lines of my half-naked body.

He buried his face in my shoulder, his lips touching the pulsing vein on my neck. His warm breath tickled my skin, his half-open lips caught my earlobe.

 — I want you, Venya... — I whispered in his ear...

I pulled his hair and kissed him deeply, working my tongue in his mouth. My hands clasped around his neck, my fingers tousled his hair.

 — Your damn turtleneck is in the way... — Veniamin finally exhaled. He twisted and turned in every way, pushing aside the collar of my top, stroking my neck, barely touching my cheeks, the corners of my lips with his lips.

 — Then cut it... — I suggested, handing over the failed instrument of suicide and feeling the cool metal touch my hot skin.

When the turtleneck was dealt with, he began to shower me with quick, hot kisses, capturing first one breast, then the other with his lips, sinking his teeth into my nipples. His breathing was ragged. Skillfully kissing and stroking every opening centimeter of my tanned skin, he descended along my body, caressing my thighs for a long time.

I stopped him and began to caress him myself. I cautiously touched the head with my finger, and he immediately reacted to my touch. His breath caught. I heard a quiet half-sigh, half-moan.

Laughing, I kept repeating my caresses, and he again cupped my breast and now roughly kneaded my nipples with his fingers.

Lifting me up, he grasped my hips, turned me onto my back, and devoured my lips. I squeezed my hands tightly behind his back, cried out softly, and then our bodies merged into one.

 — You're playing... with fire... Venya... yes... m-m-m... Oh, yes Venechka!..

He put a finger to my lips. My lips greedily opened and I lightly bit him.

The bed beneath me rose and fell and rose again, like a sine wave from his rhythmic, unhurried movements.

He embraced me and stopped... I entwined him with my arms and legs, tightened around him. We felt each other with every cell, every nerve...

He squeezed me in his embrace so tightly it hurt.

I closed my eyes...

We finished simultaneously and probably screamed very loudly...

... A young palm tree by the veranda playfully waves its leaves, flirting with the silvery moonlit path on the ribbed surface of the sea.

 — Are you sure everything went as it should?

 — Yes. I think so... They've all scattered too. Tasha — to Transylvania. Dasha — to Berlin. Sasha — to Paris. And Masha — to Bora Bora... I think Interpol will still rack its brains trying to link us to that murder...