Page 135 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
That she trusts me.
That shewantsme.
I can’t…I don’t have the words.
And when she slides into the water, I stop looking for those words.
I just…feel.
Alistair disappeared.
He’d carried me into the sea and waited until I had a secure handhold on a stooped rock. And then he’d gone under, leaving me bobbing up and down with the lazy waves, my skirt pooching in the water around me, my underside floating bare underneath.
Fear might’ve crept in then. Even though I was securely holding a rock, the ocean and I would never be on friendly terms. But ItrustedAlistair. And?—
Something slithered up my leg.
“Oooh!” I squealed, jumped, and whacked my shoulder against the rock.
“It’s me, Pippi,” Alistair laughed.
“Don’tdothat.I thought it was asnake!”
“A snake?”
“Some of them swim, don’t they?”
“Yesssssssssss.”He sucked the S between his teeth.
“You’re too much sometimes.” I dug my nails into the porous rock. “Has anyone ever told you—” I jolted and kicked out when that slithery thing danced along my inner thigh.
“Oh dear,” Alistair said. “You’re very…s…s…j-j-jumpy.”
“What—is—is that yourtongue?” I squawked.
“Yes.”
Stars help me.
He had to hold the Guinness World Record for the longest tongue known to man or beast. Because the organ was wrapped around my thigh, and still had enough excess to dribble down to my calf.
I gulped.
Alistair chuffed and massaged the tip of his tongue against my shin, calming me.
“In my defense,” I said, “this feels…strange.”
“Strange how?”
The sheer length of it was odd, for one.
The textures, for another. Its topside was as abrasive as a cat’s tongue. But Alistair wielded it gingerly, letting me feel the scrape of the organ against my skin, but not allowing the bristles to dig or gouge.
“Pippi?” Alistair pressed when I didn’t answer. “Strange how?”
His concern fluttered in my belly.
“It’s different,” I managed. “I guess. Andweirdthat you can talk while doing that.”
