by Monica James
With shoulders hunched, he whispers, “I promise. I can’t say goodbye, and that’s the problem. I should let you go, but I can’t.” I don’t know what he means, but he’s gone before I can ask.
A tenacious knot begins unraveling in my belly. I feel hot, breathless, as though I’m seconds away from passing out. My vision clouds over, and a bitter nostalgia swarms around me.
“Watch out!”
Fading between the past and now, I seize reality, refusing to let these nightmares rule me.
Jumping to life, I strip off my clothes, the weightlessness instantly making me feel lighter. My bare feet pound against the grass as I run at full speed, needing to be reborn. I don’t think twice. I sprint down the dock and jump into the murky water, the iciness like needles stabbing at my foundation.
My body takes over, and I begin swimming. The daily swims have helped me build up strength. I push myself until I’m unable to take any more. But this is different. Each stroke, each kick, each breath, I feel like they’re the last I’ll ever undertake.
Peering to the left, I see I’m way past the enormous tree, which is my marker to how far I’ve swum. Usually, by this stage, my body is aching and my arms exhausted, but today, I have to go on.
All I focus on is kicking my legs and sweeping my arms to propel me farther and farther. I was so curious to know what happens when I reach the other side. That curiosity will soon be put to rest because I’m only a mile from the shore. I push harder, faster, my heart violently thrashing about in my chest. Jude’s home rises from the darkness, the porch light my beacon of direction.
Grace’s words, however, stab at my fragile mind, and I suddenly realize that nothing waits for me on the other side. This entire time, I thought once I swam through my nightmares, I’d get better, and everything would be clearer. But now, everything feels worse.
I immediately stop swimming, swaying with the water as I remain motionless, attempting to catch my breath. My teeth chatter when the breeze picks up, but the wintriness is a reminder I’m still alive. As I continue staring at Jude’s house, I begin to wonder if that’s what I want. What I’m doing now, is this really living? I’ve lived before, and this right now, this feels like a death sentence.
Accepting my fate, I don’t fight it. I’m so tired. I sink to the bottom and stay submerged as if I can escape my life beneath the darkness. I tuck myself into a small ball and close my eyes because the moment I surface, I’ll have to face tomorrow, and I’m not ready to deal with that just yet.
However, I’m running out of oxygen. But what would happen if I stayed down here? I would die, that’s what. And would that be so bad? I mean, who would miss me?
Just as I’m about to sink lower and accept my fate, a pair of lips press softly against mine. My eyes open in alarm as my underwater fantasy has come crashing down, and I realize I’m gasping for breath. But suddenly, my lungs are filled with air, as Jude is my life source. His steady breaths are feeding my starving lungs, and I relax, allowing him to bring me back to life.
With one last breath, he seals his lips around mine, and our exhalations become one as we kiss, becoming each other’s lifeline. I never want it to end, but Jude quickly swims us up to the surface as our lips move in unison.
As we break the surface, we are panting and breathless, but our lips never break contact as Jude presses my naked form to his. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I latch on tight with no intention of ever letting go. The kiss isn’t slow or gentle; it’s heated, and reckless, and passionate. It’s everything I’ve been missing. Everything I’ve craved. His tongue duels with mine, but it’s a fight I’m happy to lose. His unreserved dominance has a flutter coiling in my belly. A gentle flight of butterfly wings soars high, and I suddenly feel weightless—I feel alive.
His mouth is wet and warm, and everything I need. He’s aggressive and soft at the same time, and I can’t get enough. I press further into his chest, his heart racing in song with mine. His hand is draped around my nape, he’s driving the tempo, and I like it. I’m ashamed and embarrassed when my hips want to rock against him, needing some kind of release—a feeling I haven’t experienced in so very long.
His whiskers score my skin, and the sensation heightens my already aroused state. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip, pulling it into the warm cavern of his mouth in a deliberate, calculated, unhurried speed.
I clutch at his wet hair, the soft strands gliding between my fingertips. His breathless growls and my impassioned moans fill the night air, expressing to the universe that we were always fated to end up this way.
His fingers dig into my waist, his touch desperate, his need for me depriving me of breath. I gasp into his mouth, unable to get enough of him as his touch is like my own personal drug. I should be ashamed that I’m in his arms naked, but I’m not. I feel vulnerable, wanted, desired. I also feel like I’ve been reborn.
His tongue rolls in my mouth, stoking my inner fire, leaving me needy and writhing in desire. When he breaks the kiss, I hiss, inhaling a series of much-needed breaths. The moon slips out from behind a cloud, illuminating the emotion behind his inky eyes.
“Let’s go inside.” His voice is heavy and filled with passion. I hold on tight as he swims us to the bank effortlessly. I feel so safe in his arms.
My chest is pressed to his as he emerges from the water, walking us toward the safety of his home. He enters the back door as quiet as a mouse and climbs the stairs to what I presume is his room. The door shuts softly behind us, sealing us in, but I’m prepared to accept my fate.
His strong arms are wrapped around my middle, and although we’re now inside, I feel like he’s holding on tighter, refusing to let go. I slowly pull away, my eyes searching his, desperate to know what he’s thinking. His supple bowed lips part, and I whimper, the sight sending a thunderbolt straight to my core.
Without a single word, he walks us through the room, his footsteps ricocheting in time with the throb humming through my body. The blankets are soft underneath me as he lays me on the bed. I shift backward, resting up on elbows without ever breaking eye contact.
His jaw is clenched, and his body is wound tight, but he refuses to look past my face. The realization that I’m naked, and proof of my imperfection is showing hits home. I quickly wrap an arm around my chest. But Jude shakes his head, the wet strands sticking to his corded neck. “Don’t hide who you are, butterfly.”
“Butterfly?” His term of endearment is one I suddenly adore.
“Yes.” He prowls forward. His belt buckle hits the ground as he steps out of his wet jeans. Placing one knee on the bed between my parted legs, he slips off his T-shirt. I gulp. His skin is tanned, his flesh so firm; he really is a work of art. The bullet wound has scarred, but it adds to the magnum opus.
“Why butterfly?” I gasp as he rests both palms on either side of my hips, leaning forward, so we’re inches apart.
His breath is warm against my cheeks. “Because I can’t wait to watch you spread your wings and fly.” He doesn’t give me time to respond. He lightly runs his fingertips over my knuckles, before removing my hand and uncovering my breasts to him.
Our eyes are still locked, but I avert my gaze, suddenly embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry I don’t have something nicer to offer you.”
Two fingers rest under my chin, coaxing me to meet my fears. “I don’t see your scars…I see you.” Jude lowers himself so we’re pressed chest to chest.
His skin is warm, heating my trembling body with his. I fall backward, my head hitting the pillow, and Jude tumbles with me. He’s suspended above me, and the sight is too much.
I lie still, unbreathing, too afraid to move.
Jude’s eyes search every plane of my face. It appears he’s cataloging me to memory, and I don’t know why. All thoughts are forgotten when he lowers his lips to the corner of my mouth. I stay still as he kisses my chin, my neck, unhurried to discover every part of me.
His tongue swirls in the divot of my collarbone, spreading g
oose bumps to the tips of my toes. “You smell incredible,” he hums against my flesh. He continues his downward journey while I try my hardest to relax.
No one has seen me this way since the accident. I was too ashamed. But as Jude gets closer and closer to my scar, my worries begin to ebb away. I settle into the mattress as his kisses are inches away from my fears. Just as he’s about to descend lower, I wrap my arm around me, unable to take the final step.
I press my eyes shut, a tear slipping from the corner of my left. “I’m sorry, Jude.”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he softly states, kissing the end of my nose. I believe him.
“I do want to…” I confess. “But I’m scared.”
With the softest of kisses, he presses his lips to mine. “I’m scared, too.” His declaration floats over my flesh. My eyes snap open, surprised by his admission. “I never thought I’d be able to make anyone feel this way ever again.”
“Because of Rose?”
He turns his cheek, his reaction enough of a response. “I’d be happy to just lie with you forever and feel this.”
“Feel what?”
He presses his palm on my chest above my heart. “Alive.”
There is nothing but sincerity in Jude’s eyes; it’s the same look I’ve seen since the moment we met. This man has an unexplained need to protect me, he always has. With that thought in mind, I slowly remove my arm, baring all that I am to him.
He hisses a sharp breath through clenched teeth as his gaze falls to my chest. My breaths are mounting, my pulse spiking, and I think I’m seconds from passing out. When he remains motionless, simply staring, I’m frightened he’s changed his mind, and my nakedness has repulsed him somehow.
He arches up, gaining full frontal access to my body. His fingers reach out, and with a steady, passionate touch, he traces over my scar in awe. The look is not one I’m accustomed to because when I look upon it, all I want to do is turn away.
His finger runs down the jagged length, outlining the area with nothing but admiration in his inky depths. These feelings are too much, and tears sting my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He lifts his hand away quickly, his face blanketed in pain. “This is too much for you. I understand.”
But he doesn’t understand. The tears I shed are of the happy kind. “No, Jude, don’t stop. I’m crying because I’m happy. This is the first time in a long time that I feel…human.”
Reaching for him, I wrap my hand around his nape and draw his face toward mine. Our mouths crash together, the feeling surreal, almost out of this world. This kiss is different than the first one we shared; it’s filled with yearning, and also a sense of belonging. The way I feel underneath him is nothing like I’ve ever experienced before.
He sucks my bottom lip, groaning into my mouth as I bow into his body. He severs our connection and trails kisses down my neck, sucking over my pulse. My legs scissor beneath him, a scorching heat setting me on fire. He descends lower, his lips everywhere, his hands touching every part of my body. A primeval urge seizes me, and I shamefully buck my hips, needing a deeper connection.
Jude reads my desperation and sinks lower, his hot mouth blistering my skin. When he reaches my chest, he pauses in a silent question if he’s okay to continue. I reply by enfolding my arms around him and pressing him into my body.
The need to be wanted, to be loved, can be undoubtedly felt in our passion, and I come to understand that we’re both desperate to find someone who makes us feel worthwhile. Our paths are marred with scars, both inside and out, but those scars are our badges to show the world we survived.
He continues kissing downward, his lips brushing the tops of my breasts. He doesn’t hesitate or recoil and shows the same passion as he kisses over my scar. Every touch has me mewling, not believing how good it feels. He continues kissing my scar, making me feel beautiful and changing my imperfection to perfection. He doesn’t make me feel different—he makes me feel special.
His large hand cups my breast, his deft fingers rolling my nipple. I moan, the feeling too good to be true. However, when he licks the side of my breast and takes the pearled bud into his mouth, I know this is extraordinarily true.
All shyness is long forgotten when he slides a hand between us. My stomach roils, and I arch my hips, needing more. With his lips still locked around me, he walks his fingers down, brushing over my sex. His simple touch is electric. I want more, so much more, but I’m too afraid to ask. He shifts over to my other breast, kissing the scar along the way. I no longer feel self-conscious; instead, I feel adored.
A knot begins building and building. I feel Jude in every pore. He’s being a gentleman, skating around the rim, but it’s not enough. I shyly open my legs, hinting at what I need. He stops, peering up at me with uncertainty in his blue eyes. “Are you sure?” His lips are red, swollen, the sight cementing my response.
“Yes.” I arch forward, licking a bead of water from the slope of his neck. He growls, and without delay, he presses his lips to mine, consuming me with a ferocious need. The mood shifts, things turn needier, and before I know it, Jude slips a finger inside me. We both gasp; the contact feels incredible.
He dives in slow, which I’m thankful for, as my muscles are unaccustomed to such a delicious intrusion. It doesn’t take me long to catch up and find the rhythm that has me moaning in bliss. He works with my body, adding another finger while I bite down on my lip.
Tossing my head back, I squeeze my eyes shut as everything is too much. Jude breaks our kiss and slides down my body, detouring to the junction of my thighs.
In half a second, his mouth, that sinful, skillful mouth replaces his fingers, and he’s lapping at my entrance. I rocket off the bed, unable to hold back my screams, but I chew the inside of my cheek, realizing Angus is sleeping down the hall.
Needing to touch him, I place my hands on his muscled back. His flesh is on fire. I clench his broad shoulder and fist his wet hair, shamefully bucking my hips. He growls, the sound possessive as he buries his face further into my core.
I let go of reservations and allow him to command my body, and command he does. He raises one leg over his shoulder while the other he pushes out to the side. I’m opened up to him, my shame long forgotten. He devours me, leaving no part undiscovered. Both hands are now threaded through his hair, using the longer strands as reins as I hold on tight and jerk my hips.
The fire in my belly is mounting, each flick of his tongue spirals the flames higher and higher. His animalistic grunts mirror his actions, and when he sucks over my center, I cry out. I’m so close. But then realization hits me about how I’m being incredibly selfish. So I paw at him, hinting to come up for air. He doesn’t rise but merely buries himself further. His heavy scruff adds to the sensation. I think I’m going to explode.
His need to consume me is too much. My body undulates, my heart explodes, and stars flash before my eyes. Digging my heel into his broad back, I arch my hips, focusing on his tongue, lips, mouth, hands. He’s everywhere, I’m lost in him, and for the first time in months, I…let…go.
Sparks flash before my eyes. I half cry, half moan, feeling too many emotions mixed in at once. Everything I’ve endured to get here, to feel this with Jude, I realize it was all worth it.
I’m breathless, my body totally spent. That was the most powerful orgasm I’ve experienced. Ever. Everything is heightened.
Jude lazily kisses my sensitive flesh before unhooking my leg from his shoulder. Laying a kiss on my inner thigh, he then skims up my body.
My eyes are still sealed shut, my head thrown back as I attempt to catch my breath. The pillow divots, and I sense Jude. Prying one eye open, I instantly turn a beet red. Jude smirks, adding to my embarrassment.
“That was incredible,” he says, brushing the matted hair from my brow.
My voice is hoarse. “Yes, it was.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
I shake my head as my cheeks blister. “It felt good.�
�� Thinking back to weeks ago, I can’t help but say, “I thought I was a complication.”
“You are…” Just as I’m about to object, Jude adds, “But I don’t care.”
Shifting closer so our bodies are pressed front on, I bite my lip when I feel something nudge me below. He peers down with a smirk. His lips are slathered with my arousal. “Wow. I haven’t felt that in a long time.”
I shyly reach between us and brush over his swell, but he seizes my hand in his. “But I want to,” I whisper, hating how desperate I sound.
He blows out a shallow breath. “I do, too.”
“But…” I wait for him to fill in the blanks.
“But not now. Let’s not push our luck.”
“Luck? What’s luck got to do with it? Right now, you’re refusing to get lucky.”
His mouth twitches, but I know he’s serious.
“Good night.” He tucks me into his arms and sighs contently.
As he drifts off to sleep, I lie wide-awake, envious, as my mind pings at a million miles an hour.
I lie in the darkness for hours, listening to Jude’s steady breaths. Peeling myself from his vise-like grip, I stare at his striking face, wondering what secrets lie behind those conflicted eyes. I trace the hill of his strong nose. Caress the whiskers on his angular cheeks. Why did he get shot? I outline the curve of his bow lips. Stroke his chiseled jaw. Did it have something to do with the mysterious woman? As I run a finger across his pinched brow, the most important question plagues me…why do I feel like we’ve met before?
I wake the next morning feeling like someone other than me. I don’t know how many hours I’ve slept, but regardless, I slept…straight through. Not a single nightmare plagued my slumber. Nor did I wake up in a cold sweat.
Stretching, I crack open one eye, freezing suddenly when my impaired vision reveals I’m in a foreign room. The walls are painted an eggshell white, accenting the beige and brown tones. Snapping my head from left to right, both eyes are now open as I observe the simple, yet stylishly furnished room.