Page 42 of Slashes in the Snow
This is what draws me to freediving. The full body calm. The separation from stress. The severance from nerves.
This is part of the therapy that got me through. Ironic, isn’t it? Lack of oxygen can kill you, but for me, it saved my life.
As time passes, I recognize all the usual bodily responses. The general urge to breathe, the first contraction, but I’ve been doing this a long time, so I channel my training and press on. All I want is a second more. One second more to be better.
As the compression on my diaphragm starts to build, the deeper into my headspace I go. I’m familiar with my limitations. I know at exactly what point I can withstand. It’s making it past that point that’s the challenge. Surrendering to the discomfort and pushing on.
When the first air bubble escapes, I know my time under the water is winding down. I have mere seconds left before I blackout or choose to come up for air.
The need to deflate my lungs or CO2wins out. I break through the surface of the water and gasp for air. I pant, sucking in oxygen, allowing my muscles to feed.
“How long was that?” I wipe my eyes and ask Ky.
He looks down at the watch a little pale. “Holy shit, I forgot to press the button.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
He shows me the screen. All zeros.
“Ky!” I splash.
“I told you that shit freaks me out. I kept picturing myself giving you mouth to mouth.”
“I bet you did.” I roll my eyes and pull the plug in the tub.
“Hey, what are you doing? We were supposed to have bath time.”
“I’m draining some of the cold water.” I turn the faucet back on. “I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy a polar bear plunge.”
Ky dips his hand in the draining water and then pulls it out right away. “Jesus, woman, how do you survive in that?”
I shrug. “Cold water is better for slowing the heart rate and metabolism.”
“I’ll definitely stick to warm water where your blood keeps pumping.” Ky pulls his shirt over his head and gets rid of his pants. I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of looking at his naked body. All ripped and chiseled and covered in ink. I try not to giggle when he steps into the cool water. It’s getting warmer but still needs a few gallons to cross over. It’s not his reaction to the temperature that makes me laugh — even though that’s entertaining, too — it’s the tat across his pelvis. Of course, I noticed the writing last night, but I chose not to make a comment until now.
“Interesting choice of words.” I tickle the tattoo.
Ky makes a devilish little sound. “I was eighteen, stupid, and drunk as all hell.”
“I can picture that.”
“Want to see if it’s true?” He pumps his erection. I peer down at his hand and the words “choking hazard.” “I definitely want to know how those lips feel on other parts of my body.”
The devil is taking over, I can see it in his crystal-blue eyes. He’s becoming possessed with lust, and the only person who can vanquish the demon is me.
“After bath time, I’ll put my lips wherever you want.”
“After bath time, you don’t have a choice.” He floats next to me, pulling my body right up against his. Then he kisses me, and it’s as surprising as all the other kisses he’s bestowed on me. I’m always expecting rough, thoughtless, sloppy. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because that’s the way he’s treated me for the last few weeks. But every time he puts his mouth on me, it’s possessive, provoking, and dare I even say it, sincere.
Ky Parish is definitely a puzzle I enjoy playing with.
Ky urges me on top of him, and we continue to just kiss. To just touch and explore and enjoy.
He cups my face and stares up at me with starry eyes. “I have never encountered a woman as beautiful as you.”
His declaration has rendered me speechless. A compliment from Ky? A heartfelt compliment I never saw coming. There’s a little twinge in my stomach I choose to ignore.Don’t fall for him.
I tenderly trace the scar marring his face, and he closes his eyes.
