by Genna Rulon
“Oh,” was my even stupider reply. Knowing she’d been studying me for several months was unnerving. What other insights had she ascertained while analyzing me?
“Going to have to do better than ‘oh’ when you come to the office on Monday at eleven. Well, it was lovely talking with you—so glad you called. Happy Thanksgiving to you all and I’ll see you in a couple days. Bye.”
Before I had the chance to form a single coherent thought, Thia had hung up.
What the hell just happened? I felt like I’d just stepped off a tilt-a-whirl ride—slightly nauseous and completely out-of-sorts. The sessions with Thia would either prove to be the best thing ever in terms of moving forward and building a life, or the time might turn out to be a giant waste, like the money spent on a ride that made you pray for death then puke.
I walked over to Wes’ house, ringing the bell and knocking impatiently, excited to tell him my decision.
The door swung open, revealing a defined chest and lickable abdominals. My excitement was replaced with crippling lust, which drove me to grab him and pay for the show with a kiss that left no doubt as to the naughty thoughts he’d inspired. When I finally pulled back, Wes’ smile stole my already thready breath.
“If this is the standard response, I will remember to remove my shirt before opening the door from here on out.”
“The thin cotton sleep pants aren’t hurting matters either,” I encouraged.
“Duly noted. How are you, beautiful? Did the meeting with your advisor go well?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested in my reply.
“That’s what I was so excited to tell you…before you got me all excited. Come on, let’s sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”
He led the way to the great room, where we snuggled close on the couch. The hope that had begun to take root after my meeting with Dr. Mesina blossomed in the warmth of Wes’ arms. I would have been content to remain silent, savoring the moment, but Wes’ interest was piqued.
“Tell me everything.”
“Okay. After discussing some minor concerns she had about my thesis—no big deal, by the way—I asked her to support my petition for a leave of absence. Needless to say, she was not pleased. She pushed me for my reasons and I explained that my family was searching for me and close to discovering my whereabouts, and that I didn’t want to be found. Understandably upset by my disclosure, she encouraged me to contact local law enforcement if I was concerned for my safety. When I hesitated, she promised to throw the full weight of her professional standing behind my thesis, help me publish, and ultimately assist in finding ways to implement my research if I stayed. It was very persuasive and an amazing opportunity.”
“Did you accept?”
“Not right away. She also asked if there was any other reason I could think of that would be worth the risk of standing to fight for my independence,” I said cautiously.
“What did you tell her?” he asked, squeezing me tighter against his chest.
“I told her there was a man who I would regret leaving behind—that my time with him hadn’t run its course, and my fear of staying wasn’t as strong as my desire to be with him,” I said, stretching the truth slightly about my conversation with Dr. Mesina but not my feelings.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked in a tone I couldn’t decipher.
Was he ready to be rid of me and didn’t want to hurt my feelings, or was he containing his delight until I provided confirmation?
“If you think I’m saying that I’m staying, then…yes.”
There was a long pause and my patience had run dry.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything? If you’re ready to end things, just say so. It’s not like you’re the only reason I’m staying. There’s Sam, Ev, Griffin, and Hunter. Not to mention, the implications for my professional goals,” I said, growing more agitated with each word.
When he laughed, I had no choice but to dig my elbow deep into his rib cage, causing him to grunt in pain. Good—he had it coming! Wrestling my arm away from his tender side, he rolled us until I was pinned beneath the heavy mass of his hard body, preventing any further assaults. My anger receded with the tender expression staring down at me. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips before finally speaking.
“Nothing would make me happier, beautiful. I’ve been keeping a ‘how to make her stay’ list for a while now. You don’t want to know some of the desperate and depraved ideas I’ve considered to keep you with me,” he teased before kissing the tip of my nose. “I’m not ready for us to end yet. I may never be. I still can’t promise you forever—people change their minds every day. I’m sorry to say that my mom is living proof of that. But if how I feel now is any indication, you may grow tired of me long before I grow weary of you.”
I had never experienced love in any form before meeting Sam and Ev, and what they gave was the love of both friends and sisters. Griffin and Hunter soon followed, offering me the love of brothers. In return, I loved each with my whole heart. Thanks to them, I had finally experienced what it was to love and be loved in return through the bond of family.
What I felt for Wes was different. I didn’t know if it was love, because it was unlike what I felt for Huntleigh and GriffLo. There was a depth of emotion and desire to be with him that was so strong I was overwhelmed at times. I thought of him all the time…did I tell Wes this? What would Wes think of that? What is Wes up to? I wonder if Wes will do that thing with his tongue tonight? It never ended. I never wanted it to end. Was that love, the type with a capital ‘L’? I didn’t know. If I were in love, would I even have to ask? It seemed to me that love would be an undeniable, all-encompassing feeling that left no shadow of doubt.
Perhaps what I was feeling was the seeds of love or its first bud.
I wanted to deny the possibility, because Wes had been clear from the start that love was not on the table and never would be. I’d made a pact with him to never seek a commitment, and it would be unfair to change the rules this late in the game. Therefore, I was going to have to contain the burgeoning feelings and keep my emotions in the box where they belonged. Whatever Wes was able to give me was more than I’d ever expected, wanted, or deserved. I would be content and never ask for more than he offered.
“Are you going to leave me hanging?” Wes asked, his eyebrow raised in playful warning.
Evidently, I had been lost in thought longer than I realized.
“No, I’m going to do this…” With no further warning, I showed him with my body what I felt in my heart. I didn’t need words or clearly defined emotions, I just needed him inside me in every way possible. His touch reached through my skin and sinew until it found the very essence of my being—a soul-deep contact that inflamed my mind, body, and heart until I was a blazing inferno that only he could contain or quench.
“I need you, Wes—please—take me, take it all,” I begged, overwrought with emotion.
Heeding my plea, he efficiently divested us both of our clothes, leaving them strewn across the floor. Moments later, he slid inside me, my body offering no resistance, only welcoming acceptance. His strokes were measured, intended to build a gradual climb we could savor. The unhurried pace allowed us to hold one another instead of clinging frantically. Our kisses were long and searching, a slow exploration executed with finesse and passion. I trailed my fingertips down his back in reverence, cherishing the response of this man who had grown to mean so much to me.
We lost track of time, or perhaps it no longer existed when two souls left their shells to fuse as one. I never wanted the clock to resume its countdown, unable to let go of the profound connection we were establishing. Yet like a sunset in all its splendor, the end was inevitable.
“Come for me, beautiful—don’t make me fall alone,” Wes whispered urgently against my lips.
Together we fell—eyes locked, bodies entwined. It was one of life’s rare moments of perfection.
“I have something for you,” Wes said after a few
minutes in comfortable silence. “Provided I can find the will to get up, that is.”
There was nothing I wanted or needed more than to be wrapped in his arms, but I withheld my protests when he rose from the couch. He headed into the kitchen and returned with his hands behind his back. My curiosity stirred.
“Some people like a cigarette after…” he trailed off, perhaps having the same difficulty I was with calling what we’d just shared ‘sex.’ “I thought this was more appropriate for you.”
In his hands was a Costco-size case of my favorite dark chocolate with sea salt. It was a gift that said, ‘I know you and I think about you when you’re not with me.’
He pulled a bar from the box and handed it to me with feigned solemnity and ceremony. Laughing, I tore into the package and popped a square in my mouth. Mmmm, so damn good. He was right, it was the perfect post-whatever-that-was treat.
“That’s a lot of chocolate you have there, Black,” I teased playfully.
“I figured I should have a supply here to keep you from running home in the mornings to get your fix.”
Wow! That was just…wow.
“Thank you, Wes. It’s the perfect gift. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”
He paused, lost in thought.
“What’s your real name, beautiful?” he asked with a quiet vulnerability.
“I wish I could tell you—really I do—but I can’t answer that question.”
He nodded sadly and returned to the kitchen. I had hurt him with my denial after what we had just shared. I wanted to tell him—to explain—but his question opened a can of worms I wasn’t ready to confront. A quiet voice in the recesses of my brain cautioned that I had once again chosen poorly, allowing my fears and regrets to silence me. All I could do was hope that the cost of my mistake wasn’t more than I could afford to pay.
"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable." -Wizard of Oz
Westly
I woke Thanksgiving morning holding the woman that had me tied me up in knots. There were no strings in our arrangement—no, these were nautical-grade ropes wound in complex loops that only the most seasoned salty dogs could tie. Instead of waning, my desire for her grew each day, and it was more than just her body and its siren’s call that beckoned me to ruin—it was all of her. Knowing the danger, I continued to sail straight into the rocky shoreline where destruction lay in wait.
I was a fool to continue on the current course. She was hiding something from me, not the least of which was her name. More than a month had passed where we’d shared my bed nearly every night. If I wasn’t at work, I was with her or on my way to her. She invaded my thoughts during the day and starred in my dreams every night. There was no doubt I was becoming addicted to her, dependent on her smiles, laughter, and climax to find the same for myself. I should be paralyzed with fear at the myriad emotions she inspired, yet I welcomed them, certain my growing attachment mirrored her own. If not for the secrets she was resolutely withholding, I would be tempted to classify what we shared and the emotions it invoked.
But the secrets were there, taunting me with the knowledge of all I didn’t know.
My frustration had not been enough to discourage me from her or accepting anything she was willing to give. I’d promised myself I would allow her more time to reveal what was behind the curtain; I would be patient because the pull between us was too strong for her to resist eventual surrender. However, her refusal last night struck a blow that still stung. After what we’d shared—what the hell do you even call what passed between us last night?—after giving more of myself to her than any other woman, her wall remained firmly in place, which was unbearable and mildly insulting.
Still, with the exception of the secret-colored elephant in the room, everything about her was everything I never knew I wanted—or needed. I would yield for a few more weeks before renting a wrecking ball and backhoe to demolish the motherfucker separating me from all of her.
Smiling at the thought, I slipped my hand into the nightstand to grab her morning chocolate. Another example of this beautiful girl’s perfection…her morning addiction didn’t require me to get out of bed to satisfy. Speaking of satisfying, I reached back into the nightstand to snag a condom. After all, it was Thanksgiving—time to show my woman how grateful I was.
Seated at the dining room table, I glanced to the front door for the third time. Surely more guests were expected given the obscene amount of food covering the table and sideboard, as well as a folding table Sam insisted Griffin set up (and cover in a decorative tablecloth) to capture the overflow.
“Everything looks and smells incredible, Sam,” I praised, my mouth watering. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Everyone knows it’s the sides that make Thanksgiving dinner worth eating. Start with the obligatory turkey and gravy, and then move on to the good stuff,” Sam instructed.
Serving bowls passed hands and plates were loaded until even their rims were obscured. Various sounds of appreciation filled the room. The six of us ate until pleasure turned to pain.
“Dammit, I ate too much! It hurts…it hurts,” Ev whined pathetically.
Ever the boy scout, Hunter pulled a small bottle of Tums from his pocket and placed it in front of her, causing her to squeal in delight.
“This is love. Are you watching this girls? A man who has antacids at the ready,” Ev advised sagely.
“Anything you need, Angel, I’ll always have your back. You know I can’t stand to see you in pain,” Hunter returned with a wicked glimmer in his eye that Ev missed.
“Oh, puh-leaze! Hunter Charles, you’re a sly one,” Sam scolded with a smirk. “Ev, my sweet naïve, Ev. Wake up and smell the Tums! He wants your tummy to feel better because he plans on throwing you over his shoulder—per usual—and doesn’t want you to puke on him. The man reeks of ulterior motive.”
Ev cast a warning glare at her husband while addressing her friend, “Sam, my husband is far too intelligent to resort to such rudimentary ploys. He would never put his desire for sex above my well-being. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Absolutely, Angel,” Hunter replied with mock innocence that didn’t escape Ev’s notice.
Much like her husband, Ev’s eyes held wicked intent.
“In fact, I’ll bet my husband spends the night pampering me, knowing how uncomfortable I am. He’ll probably rub my feet, fetch me coffee, run a bath, and tuck me into bed…never a thought of sex in his mind. He’ll be far too concerned with tending me to focus on lovin’.”
Hunter choked back his laughter. I had become accustomed to the linguistic warfare between the two, but it was still fun to watch. Ev clearly thought she had Hunter cornered, but something told me he would once again best her. The only question was how.
“Of course, my love, whatever you need. I’ll remind you later tonight when you’re begging for me that I can’t because I’ll be far too concerned with tending to your other needs.”
The man was good—very good. It was not the first time I rejoiced in his choice of profession. I would have hated to wind up across the aisle from him in a courtroom. I’d still win—of course—but there was no doubt Hunter would make me work for it.
“I’m afraid you won the battle but lost the war that time, Ev,” Griffin teased, high-fiving Hunter across the table.
The rest of the evening passed with easy conversation, laughter, and delicious desserts.
In bed that night, I realized it was the best Thanksgiving I’d ever celebrated. These new friends, who were quickly becoming family, and the woman in my arms were what I was most thankful for this Thanksgiving.
Black Friday arrived and much of the day was spent lounging around my house. By early afternoon, we were ready to venture out while carefully avoiding all shopping outlets. In search of entertainment, we decided to see the latest Marvel superhero flick, which proved to be a winning choice as we both left the theater bemoaning our lack of superpowers. Despite the tub of popcorn we�
�d consumed, our stomachs were growling a duet by the time we returned home.
“Why don’t we head to Sam’s place and nab some of Sam’s leftovers,” she suggested. We’d both been too full to consider bringing anything home last night, a decision we’d regretted throughout the day.
“Have I mentioned lately how brilliant you are?” I praised.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she razzed, heading next door.
As she searched for her keys in the duffle bag she claimed was a purse, a man approached us without Meg’s notice. Not wanting to alarm her, I blocked her view with my body while tracking the intruder’s approach, prepared to protect my woman by any means necessary. Although not a black belt like Hunter or colossus like Griffin, I could hold my own. When the unknown trespasser was within striking distance, I balled my fist and adjusted my stance for optimal impact.
“Hey babe, I came to check on you, but it appears you already have a bodyguard,” the man joked.
Babe—who the fuck was this guy to call my girl ‘babe’?—spun around and gasped, not in fear but excitement, followed quickly by a stern look.
“Jay! What are you doing here? I told you not to come; it’s not worth the risk.”
“You’re worth any risk, babe! You know that. Why don’t you introduce me to your friend and then invite me in?”
“Her boyfriend’s name is Wes,” I offered with no subtlety. This guy was pissing me off with his ‘babe’ and ‘I’d give my life for you’ bullshit. “You’ll receive an invite once you explain why you showed up unannounced, how you knew where to find her, and how you got past security at the front gate.”