The Considerate Killer by Agnete Friis, Lene Kaaberbøl Read Free Book Online

last bit she whispered against his ear, and her scent broke something in him and made him sink down next to her. Let his hand slide up her thigh again. This time all the way up to the robin’s-egg blue and further still. She moaned faintly and spread her legs, so he could slip a finger into the moist heat of her while he kissed her. He touched her, and she moved softly under his hand. Everything swam around him and inside him. They were supposed to wait. They had promised each other that they would wait. That she would be a virgin on their wedding night. It meant something to her, and she was drunk now.
    Oh, God.
    More than he was.
    He was the one who needed to stop. He was the man who had to live up to his responsibility—everything his family and Bea expected from him. He should stop right now, but instead he pulled the ridiculous beach shawl off her and loosened the bikini top so he could look at her beautiful breasts, slightly lighter than her stomach and shoulders after the afternoon at the beach. Her nipples were large and dark against the light skin.
    How could he stop now? Aerosmith had begun again, an urgent wail telling him not to fall asleep, not to close his eyes.
    He pressed her down on to the couch with his entire weight and pulled off his swimming trunks; removed the robin’s-egg blue scraps while Bea arched her back and turned her face into the shadow, so the tendons on her slender neck were taut and exposed. A slight almost inaudible sound escaped her. She drew him down and pushed his face against her shoulder and neck while he penetrated her with slow and infinite caution.
    A door was opened somewhere in the huge house. Vincent heard and didn’t hear. His body had taken over. Could not be stopped.
    Bea had closed her eyes, but Vincent saw it. Saw him. Vadim, who for a brief moment stood in the half-open door. Then he slid away again, disappearing in the very instant that Vincent himself came in a long and painful shudder.
    It was afternoon and really too hot to be in the sun when Vincent, Victor and Vadim sailed out from the beach in Vadim’s little flat-bottomed speedboat the next day. The wind had freshened once they were clear of the cove, and the boat leaped and slapped against the waves like an animal squirming beneath them.
    Vincent had never been a keen sailor, and after his complete and utter failure to master a surfboard that morning, he would have preferred to stay in the house with Bea. They had not talked about what had happened in the night. They had merely gotten up, searching awkwardly for their clothing, neither looking at the other. Later, there had been an almost equally awkward breakfast, and then the disastrous surf lesson on the beach in claustrophobically tight wet suits.
    Victor had gone shopping at the market in the morning and had returned with chili, rice, garlic, mung beans, and coconut milk. He prepared lunch, which he served on the porch. He didn’t like restaurant food, he said. It was too expensive and not good enough. Victor was in fact an excellent cook. They drank a couple of beers with the food, and Vincent finally managed to catch Bea’s gaze and hold it until they both blushed and had to look down.
    Afterward Diana had invited Bea along for a bit of sightseeing in the little resort town, which clearly bothered Vadim. He had been looking forward to seeing her pull on her wet suit again, he complained. Diana just laughed and teasingly tweaked the elastic on his white swim trunks.
    â€œYou’ll have to manage without us,” she said. “We need to buy glass beads and cockleshells. Bracelets. You know—girl things.”
    â€œDear God,” groaned Vadim dramatically and pulled her hard toward him. “You’re killing me, girl. Stay here.”
    Diana kissed him and pulled free, and she and Bea went into the house to change. Shortly afterward, the front door clicked, and they could see the girls walking side by side along the