What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

  “Can I still be considered an ice-virgin if it’s just the tip?” she asked breathlessly, a mischievous grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  I laughed, letting the ice cube fall out of my mouth. God, she’s something else. If it was weird that joking and sharing a laugh came easily in the midst of one of the hottest nights of my life…I never wanted to experience normal again.

  “You’re adorkable,” I teased, giving her a wink.

  She faux-glared at me with a tilted brow. “And you are a tease,” she countered, reaching down to pull me up by my jeans. “You wanted me to voice my own desires? What I want is you, Bryce. I want this.” Once in striking distance, her hand rubbed my shaft through the fabric, and I felt everything below my waist tense up. “I’m done waiting. Condom. In my bag,” she instructed, jerking her head in its direction.

  “So bossy, Uno. Not gonna lie, it’s pretty damn hot.”

  I bent over to dig through her bag and felt a biting smack on my ass, right before her body pressed against mine from behind while her hands worked my jeans down my legs. With them around my ankles, she wasted no time slipping her fingers into my boxer briefs and pulling my throbbing cock in her hands, sliding one palm up and down while the other migrated to my balls and handled them like she’d been their keeper her entire life.

  “You know…you’re not the only one with fantasies.”

  Elliot Kincaid…part angel, part beautifully filthy devil. Such a perfect, lethal combination.

  I grabbed the foil packet and whipped around, hauling her body against mine so she’d wrap her legs around my waist. “Change of plans,” I stated huskily, leaning in to nip the side of her neck.

  Instead of taking the extra ten seconds to cross the house and get to my bedroom, I walked us to the corner of the living room where Peyton’s giant pink teepee sat. It wasn’t big enough for us to fit comfortably, but it had a soft padding on the bottom and that’s exactly why it was perfect. No burn from the living room’s rug and no bruises from banging on the hardwood.

  Elliot craned her neck around for a second before flashing me a wicked grin and pulling me down on top of her. “Dad of the year,” she murmured against my lips while I tore open the condom wrapper.

  “She’ll never know.”

  Any other time, I probably would’ve tried to savor the feeling, drawn out the experience of our first time together. But between the interruptions and the fact that this felt like it was years in the making, not weeks, the concept of ‘slow’ was laughable.

  Condom in place, I bent El’s legs at the knee and pulled them into the angle I wanted before finally thrusting into her soaked entrance.

  Warm. Tight. Fucking perfect.

  We froze at the sensation, temporarily paralyzed by the immense pleasure I knew we both felt.

  In an instant, I knew this would never grow old. That I’d never get enough of her.

  If I thought I was addicted to her before…fuck.

  The intense, raw need to move, to fuck her senseless, hit me so fast it almost hurt. The tingling sensation in my balls was enough to kill me, and I’d only been inside her for seconds.

  “El, is this okay? Are you okay?” I huffed, searching her face for any signs of discomfort.

  “So much more than okay, Bryce.” She pulled my face down to merge our lips, and I growled into her mouth.

  With her green light, we started moving our bodies, slowly at first, finding our rhythm while the sounds of skin-on-skin contact and our moans filled the air around us.

  And then…

  We.

  Were.

  Chaos.

  She clawed at my back and rocked into me like she was dying and I was her only chance at salvation.

  I drove into her with more fervor and need than I’d ever thought a human could possess.

  I was almost certain her moans were an automatic trigger for my balls to tighten almost to the point of no return. When a stretch of the teepee’s fabric ripped, I pulled out and flipped her on to all fours.

  “God, is it possible this feels too good?” she panted, craning her neck around to flash me a heated, lust-filled look. “I’m gonna need you inside me all the time now. You’ve created an insta-nympho.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure you’ve got a magic pussy, so that’s not gonna be a problem.” I chuckled and smacked her ass before pushing my cock back into her.

  I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek when the world’s sexiest moan hit my ears and acted as a siren song for the orgasm I could feel on the horizon.

  “Oh god, Bryce.” She arched her back and pushed into me while I pumped my hips. “I’m so close,” she huffed. My fingers dug into her hips to keep her steady, and I knew the second her orgasm hit when I felt her walls clamp down on me.

  Feeling her fall apart wrecked me in the best way possible; it drew my balls in until the pressure at the base of my spine combusted, sending fire burning through my veins while El’s tight pussy milked every last drop from me.

  She collapsed into the padded floor, and I rolled to her side, catching my breath while I wrapped my head around what just happened.

  After a minute, I crawled out of the tilting teepee to get rid of the condom and bring El a rag and us a blanket. Peyton turned into a little inferno at night, so I had the thermostat set a little lower than most normal people.

  I was used to it by now, but I didn’t want El to get any ideas about putting clothes back on.

  “Will you grab my bag on your way?” she called on my way back.

  I was about to ask if she was thinking what I was thinking about round two when she grabbed the bag from me and dug out a big bag of Starbursts. Not just any Starbursts, either. In the bottom right corner of the yellow and pink bag, it said, “Fave-Reds.”

  “It’s only the pink or red flavors. Strawberry, watermelon, fruit punch, cherry.”

  “Life changing sex and a bag of pink Starbursts? Fucking marry me already.”

  She arched a brow and smirked. “Life changing sex?”

  Instead of making light of the moment like I'd meant to do, my mouth closed in on hers, kissing her like I’d never get enough. “Everything changing sex, El. In the best way possible.”

  She smiled and cupped my face between her warm palms. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  I wasn’t sure how to feel about her questioning my sex comment instead of the impromptu mention of marriage. Relieved, obviously. I should’ve been relieved that we weren’t forced to talk about plans or a future, because we’d both agreed that taking this thing between us slow and day-by-day was best.

  Except…I was pretty sure a part of me knew that was complete bullshit, at least on my end.

  I knew El needed time to come to the same realization—and I knew she would—but I also was pretty positive what we’d just done sealed my fate and stamped her name all over my heart and soul.

  I did want her to marry me. Not today, and maybe not even for years. I could be patient. As crazy as it sounded, she was the first and only woman I’d ever imagined myself tethered to for my whole life.

  Neither of us made an effort to leave the teepee, and I couldn’t help but grin when I realized its haphazard state. The poles holding it up had fallen, making the top droop down, and the fabric stretched across the outside was wrinkled and pulled out of place.

  El followed my gaze and let out a laugh. “Uh, I hope this thing is washable.”

  “It is. Like I said, she’ll never know.”

  After a while, we finally made our way out of the teepee and into my bed, but neither of us bothered with clothes.

  I figured I should take advantage of having the option of complete nudity while Peyton was still in a crib and couldn’t sneak into my room at all hours of the night.

  And, if I had my way, Elliot would never spend a second fully clothed while in my bed.

  Smiling at how that conversation would go, I pressed my lips to the crown of her head before drifting off to sleep.r />
  “Psst,” she whispered against my shoulder sometime later. “Are you awake?”

  “I am now.” I eased my arm around her, running my fingertips along her spine. “What’s on your mind, Uno?”

  “I, uh, well, there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, and tonight—the past couple weeks, really—made things crystal clear for me. I’m going to meet Helen.”

  I immediately stiffened beneath her, and my fingers froze in place mid-pattern. I swore my heart came to a complete stop in my chest. In an instant, every single fear and doubt I had about my decision to tell George and Millie about Helen came crashing down on me. Regret sliced through me like a razor.

  Maybe I heard that wrong. Please, god, let that be the case.

  “Bryce?” She shifted until her chest was halfway on my torso and looked up to catch my gaze. I was certain she’d be able to feel the wild thumping of my heart from where her hand rested against my chest.

  “Wh—uh, what do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  “Sophia found her. On Facebook. She said she wants to meet us, that it’s urgent we speak soon, but wouldn’t elaborate further. And I know what you’re thinking; why should I believe her after last time? What makes me think she won’t pull another vanishing act? Trust me, I had the same initial thought. But it’s different this time. She gave us her home address in Denver. I need answers, Bryce.”

  “El…” I searched my brain for the right words, but came up drastically short.

  Fuck. How do I tell her I’m the reason she didn’t get those answers five years ago? How can I ruin us before we even get to be an ‘us’?

  “I have to know why she walked away from us. Why she never came back. Why she got my hopes up and opened old wounds only to change her mind five years ago. I’ve only spent a handful of hours with Peyton, and I’m, by no means, comparing our situations, but even being a tiny part of her life…I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I hurt her that way.”

  Those words were everything I could ever ask of Elliot. Knowing she already felt a thousand times more for Peyton than Bridgette ever did meant everything to me. And yet…I couldn’t shake the panic that trickled down my spine with each passing second.

  I have to tell her.

  “Do you think…would you go with Sophia and me to meet her?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Willing my hand to keep steady, I brushed the curtain of her blonde hair aside and craned my neck forward to kiss her forehead. “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes, but I do know you deserve answers, and I’ll always support you, El. If you want me to go with you, just say the word. My mom can keep Peyton, and we can go to Denver for a couple days. Whatever you want.”

  She wiggled her way up my body and cupped my face, giving me a warm smile I didn’t deserve before pressing our lips together.

  “I loved our friendship, Bryce, but this…this feels so much better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. If friendship was all we ever shared, I would’ve found a way to live with that. But I’m glad I don’t have to.”

  “Oh, uh, awwwww-kward. I meant…this,” she said, sliding her hand down my torso until it wrapped around my cock, setting a record for how fast it went from half-hard to harder than steel.

  Just like that, every drop of blood in my body rushed south, silencing all the thoughts vying for attention in my brain.

  My dick twitched in her hand, and I groaned before gripping her hips and flipping her onto her back to hover over her. “You think you’re so funny, Uno.” I arched a brow and pushed my hips into her. “Admit it, El, the nickname is accurate.”

  “What, Toad? Uhh, I mean, kinda weird to point out, but I guess I can see that.” Her lips pulled into a smirk at the same time I reached down to pull on her nipple, making her gasp.

  “Ahh! Okay, okay,” she squealed through her laughter. “McMagicDick is definitely accurate!”

  “That’s what I thought.” I flexed my hips forward to brush my length against her while my mouth found the goose-bumped flesh of her nipple and kissed away the sting caused by my fingers. “Just to be sure, I think you need a reminder.”

  She nodded eagerly, her chest rising in sync with her nods. “I’ll probably need a few reminders…you know, just to be sure I don’t get confused again.”

  Chapter 21

  Bryce

  I’m seriously going straight to hell.

  I should’ve finally given Elliot the truth, and I almost had—but the second her hand made contact with my dick, I was gone. Lost to the high that came exclusively from being buried inside her.

  After our encore (and an encore after that), El crashed and fell into a peaceful sleep while I held her in my arms.

  I, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep for shit.

  Tonight had given me emotional whiplash, and I had no one to blame but myself.

  There were times over the last several weeks when I’d almost convinced myself that my role in whatever George and Millie had said to Helen was irrelevant, that they would’ve found a way to stop Elliot from meeting her regardless of my interference. That Elliot wouldn’t hate me when she found out.

  Then, in the moments of clarity when I accepted the reality of the situation, I convinced myself that Elliot would understand and forgive me.

  In reality, it was my brain’s way of giving me false hope. As soon as Elliot started talking about Helen, the anguish in her voice was like a sledgehammer to my gut, and I just knew.

  I knew everything was going to shift between us once she found out.

  Slipping out of my room after making sure not to disturb Elliot, I padded down the hallway and came to a stop in front of the stairs to the attic. Before I could talk myself out of it, I trekked into the attic and dug out a worn, leather-bound journal. I’d spent months carrying it around after Peyton was born, but it had been packed away with the last of my things David and Louise shipped to me a few months ago. I wasn’t even sure what I expected to find between its pages. Answers? Guidance? Reassurance?

  In the days after I found out about Peyton, 'overwhelmed' is a laughable understatement for how I'd felt. The hospital gave me a pamphlet on support groups for single parents and even for single parents of preemies. Though I’d only been to a few meetings during my stay in California, I kept in touch with the group leader.

  At first, I was skeptical of his insistence that journaling was therapeutic. Sometimes he gave the group a prompt or a question to work from, and sometimes we simply wrote whatever came to us. But to my surprise, it did actually help. Not always, but more often than not.

  I thumbed through the pages, welcoming the onslaught of mixed emotions I always felt each time I thought back to those early days. Every day it had felt like my heart was volleying back and forth from elation and awe at what a tough fighter my daughter was to panic, to fear about all the complications we were up against.

  I stopped flipping when a particular entry caught my eye.

  June 9 - 10:05 pm

  I can’t believe Peyton’s almost six months old. Sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday that I was flying to California without a clue that I was about to become a dad. Then sometimes I can barely remember a time in my life without her in it. Today was a little of both. She woke up every couple hours last night, and I think she might have an ear infection. I know since the surgery I’m overly paranoid about everything, but I think I’d be the same way had she been born perfectly healthy.

  Earlier, I was talking to Erik about the timing of it all, and he asked me to consider a question that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since…Do certain people come into our lives at specific times for a reason?

  To some, I suppose the answer might depend on their faith. But if you take faith out of the equation, it’s a philosophical conundrum without a simple answer.

  Three years ago, I would’ve scoffed at anyone who tried to tell me �
��everything happens for a reason.’ Which would lead you to believe my answer to the previous question is a resounding no.

  But three years ago might as well have been a lifetime ago.

  Because three years ago, she wasn’t a part of my life.

  In fifty years, when I look back on my life it’ll be divided into two categories—before her and after her.

  Before her, I thrived on chaos of my own design. After her, I’ll move mountains to contain the chaos.

  Before her, my only concern was making a name for myself. After her, my only concern is a life I can be proud of.

  Before her, home was nothing more than a bittersweet memory. After her, home is the only place I want to be.

  Before her, making plans was how I took control of my life. After her, I realize sometimes even the best laid plans can change.

  She’s given me the ability to see beyond the past. To embrace the present. To envision a new future.

  Now, that’s not to say my answer is as simple as a yes. Maybe it’s all a matter of timing. Maybe there’s not always a rhyme or reason for the things that happen or the people we meet. But that doesn’t mean that a certain person who comes into your life and flips everything upside down wasn’t always meant to be a part of your life.

  I know, without a doubt, Peyton was always meant to be in mine.

  I thought back to the night when I’d posed the same question to Elliot about people coming into your life for a reason. She said she thought the concept was something one could only believe if it happened to them, if someone happened to stumble upon the right person at the right time and they just knew.

  In a way, she wasn’t wrong. But only hindsight allowed me to realize that most of what I'd written about my life before and after Peyton could also describe before and after Elliot came back into my life.

  There’s no way I have Elliot back in my life only to lose her again.

  When I flipped through a few more pages, an envelope slipped out from between the pages in the back of the journal and sailed to the floor, landing with a thwack on the top of my bare foot.