Illusions of a Jealous Heart

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Over the late lunch at the sushi bar, Caia asked more questions about Steve's progress in getting Mireille to be enamored with him. She seemed unashamedly obsessed with asking details about the evening they had out—what she had worn at the club, what she ordered to eat, and how much she had to drink. Steve complied with the questions as best he could, but then her inquiries turned to more pressing matters which he could see only instilled her rivalry to greater depths. He was actually annoyed during their early evening walk on the beach when she began to ask more pointed questions.

"OK, so if Mireille goes back to the hotel on your next date . . . how do you intend to get her physical with you?"

"Well," Steve said, uncomfortably, " I suppose I'll just let nature take it's course. I mean . . . we've already been in each other's arms by now."

"Aright. But could you honestly understand . . . that she wanted more?"

"To be honest, Caia, I was just pleased she went out with me so soon. Felt as comfortable as she did. We were drinking a lot, so I guess that had something to do with the long evening. How it got so . . . yeah, cozy."

She stopped walking and faced him while they stood on the sand. The ocean's wind was blowing her hair in and out of her face as she brushed it back to look directly into Steve's eyes.

"So . . . when do you know it's time to make that move . . . I mean the romantic kiss when you're with someone?" she asked pointedly.

He paused, allowing himself to look at her closely---her beautiful face and supple body within his reach. The bright sun was illuminating her, and it was uncanny just how much she looked like Mireille. How she truly was her sister's biological avatar.

"I guess when I feel it's ready to happen and I see it in her eyes . . . it just happens," was his futile  answer.

A quiet moment passed between them when Caia unexpectedly stepped up closer to him. She moved her face up close to his own.

"So . . . can you see that in my eyes right now, Steve . . . that I am ready for that kiss?"

Something began to stir in his nature that brought out the usual misdirected opportunism in men—an erotic force often destructive and with unwanted consequences when acted upon.

"Yes, Caia. I can see that. You're giving me a pretty clear signal."

"Nice," she whispered.

"I'm just hoping your sister will do that," he said to deflect her look. "On our next date. And yeah, if she does . . . I'll act on it for sure."

He had hoped that would be enough to break Caia's longing gaze. But she simply nodded with satisfaction. He began to turn his head away to escape the uncomfortable moment, when Caia further reached up and placed her hand against his face.

"So . . . just how would that kiss feel, Steve?" she asked boldly.

He tried not to react. Unwilling to comply for its unseen consequences.

"Come on, Steve . . ." she whispered. "I'll tell you if Mireille will like it. And how she might respond . . . if it's good."

With that, there was no more need for words. He was certain her motivation was merely grounded in her obsessive drive to outdo her sister in any way or form. And her powerful need to do so seemed to defy all norms in females he had known. It was simply all about Caia's pathological longing for a kiss that would, in the future, be intended for her sister. She merely wanted it first. And this desire seemed regardless of any emotional attachment or natural anticipation.

At that moment he strangely thought of Kate, and her exploited actions back on the bed for Kevin in the hotel. That act she had performed was in some way fundamentally similar το what he was now being asked to do by Caia. And again, he saw their two dilemmas, simply carried out for money, as one and the same. He thought deeply about the warped purpose for which he was there on the beach with Caia that afternoon. How he had let himself become so entangled in the dysfunctional relationship which the two sisters had manifested for most of their lives.

It was quickly time for action and no more reflection. He would have to defer to his abilities as an actor and grant Caia her wish. Knowingly, he would be doing the same with Mireille eventually, but hopefully with at least the pretense of romance and some authentic pleasurable anticipation on her part.

Steve took Caia's hand from his face and held it for a moment in his. He then pulled her closer to him while she positioned her body to meet his. As he embraced her, their lips met. Softly at first, then together more fully in a breathless act that involved her pressing her breasts against him. It came for Steve as a stimulating sensation, and one he had not anticipated as being so sexual. But as Caia caressed his neck and pushed more fulsomely against him, the kiss lasted longer. As he pulled his face away from hers, he could see her eyes were closed and she seemed to be honestly savoring the moment in some private, motionless silence.

"Well?" he asked quietly, intended to break her momentary trance. "Tell me," he said as she opened her eyes. "Was it . . ."

"Amazing," she whispered. The breeze blew her hair again across her face and she combed it back with the slender fingers.

"Amazing? . . . why?" he asked. "Because of my manly abilities? Or because you just stole something from Mireille?"

It was a pointed and honest question, intended to pry a bit at her very being. But she took it in stride and touched his lips with her fingertips to quell anymore words.

"I must say," she whispered softly, "it was a little of both, Steve. Yeah . . .and not actually expected."

He held back a delayed smile—a mixture of pride and self-consciousness.

"Wow . . . OK." she exhaled, stepping back from him. "I think it's time you went back to your hotel and me to my house in the forest . . . just to cool down." She then laughed a little nervously.

He nodded in agreement as they started their trek back to the boardwalk that skirted along the beach. The white-dotted mountain that was Santa Barbara proper, loomed up in front of them, beginning to reflect the hues of a masterful sunset.

"I'll give you high marks as an actor, Steve," she said, now fully recovered. "But as someone who could really please a girl . . . let's make that an academy award."

* * *


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