Protect Me

by Alexis Winter

  Something seems off about him. His eyes are squinting and they’re surrounded by small wrinkles, and his jaw is flexed like he’s angry about something. His back is straight, and every muscle is hard like he’s preparing for a fight.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, moving closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and his hand lands softly on my hip.

  He nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

  I shake my head, still worried that he’s not telling me something. “Are you sure?”

  He doesn’t confirm or deny—just closes the small space between us and kisses me slowly and strongly.

  I close my eyes and squeeze him closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to show him that I’m here for him and that he can tell me anything. He reaches behind him, placing his beer on the island, before picking me up against him. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, and he carries me through the house and into the bedroom, the whole time keeping his lips moving with mine.

  He moves slowly and cautiously as he places me on the bed and crawls up my body. When he pulls away, getting himself on his knees between my parted legs, our eyes lock and something is exchanged. I can feel something, but I can’t put my finger on it. He seems sad, nervous, and afraid. I worry my lip, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  His eyes watch as his hands unbutton my shorts. He pulls them off slowly and tantalizingly. He picks up my ankle and slowly kisses his way up my leg. When he gets to the junction between my legs, he picks up the other and repeats the process. Emotion grows thick in my throat, and I want to cry. Yet I don’t know why. This feels different. We’ve fucked hard and fast, and we’ve made love slowly and softly, but this…this is different.

  All thoughts cease when his mouth finally lands on my clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against me. His hands hold me firmly by my hips, pushing and pulling me in a back-and-forth motion while his tongue laps me.

  He’s taking his time, wanting me to feel every motion, wanting to burn every action into my memory. When my release washes over me, my hands clench into fists, grabbing the bedsheets to hold myself in place. I feel like I’m spinning out of control. I cry out his name just as my release ends, sending tingles throughout my body.

  When he pulls away, he wipes my arousal from his lips and continues to kiss his way up my body, pushing and pulling clothes away from the both of us. His teeth gently nip the swell of my breast, and he cups them both in his hands, peppering them with hot kisses. His tongue swirls around my hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth. A whimper leaves my lips at the sensation. With our position, I can feel his hard length pressing against my slick folds, but he won’t thrust into me. It’s like he wants this moment to last forever. The longer he takes to claim me, the longer it will last, maybe even trapping us in this moment forever.

  “Tyler,” I whisper, nearly moan.

  “What is it, baby?” he asks, kissing up my neck and finally lowering his chest to mine, where I can finally feel all his weight pressing down on me—something I crave.

  A tear leaks out of my eye. “This…it’s different. I can feel it.” I take a shuttering breath. “I’m scared.”

  He shakes his head, kissing across my jaw. “I love you, Amy. I love you so fucking much,” he whispers just as his lips meet mine and he allows himself to slide inside me.

  The moment we connect, everything changes. He’s tender, but he’s rough, thrusting so hard it moves me up the bed. My nails dig into his back, and he lets out a deep growl.

  “You’ll always be mine, Amy.” He rocks his hips against me while his hands tour my body. “Always.”

  My thighs clamp around his hips as he thrusts into me, slowly but deeply, pushing me to the limits of pain—a beautiful, heart-wrenching pain. His hand travels up my side, tangling into my hair and pulling my head sideways so his mouth can claim mine once again.

  “I love you, Amy,” he says with another hard thrust.

  “I love you,” I moan out as the waves start crashing down on my body.

  Every muscle in his body hardens, and I feel his cock twitch inside of me. A warm liquid spills out, filling me and making me feel whole.

  I feel like we’ve exchanged something between us. Not just love, but ownership and love. I’m his completely. The only question is: is he mine?

  Yesterday, there was no doubt he was. But now something is different, and I feel like I’m left waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  When he pulls out of me, he rolls to my side and pulls me against his chest, tangling his hand in my hair while his lips press kisses to my forehead. He breathes me in deeply, like he’s trying to burn everything about me into his memory: my smell, my taste, my heat.

  “Tyler.” I place my hand under his chin and direct his eyes to mine. “Please, tell me what’s going on,” I whisper, filled with fear.

  His hand lands softly on my cheek, the pad of his thumb gently sweeping back and forth. “I love you, Amy. That’s all you need to know.” His mouth moves to mine once again, and while I want to give him all of myself with this kiss, I can’t. I’m filled with fear and nervousness, and a pain radiating from somewhere deep inside.

  He kisses me passionately and deeply. But this time, he’s not wanting to remember me. He’s wanting to make sure I remember him. Before I know it, he’s rolling me over and slamming into me again and again, making me call out in passion and in pain.

  He doesn’t leave me until the sun is coming up and I can no longer hold my eyes open. My body is spent, physically and emotionally. I feel drained, completely used up.

  Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I feel him press his lips to my head. “I love you, Amy. Always remember.”

  Chapter 18

  My eyes open and land on the clock that says 12:09 p.m. I groan and stretch, feeling sore and tired. I feel blissfully peaceful…until I remember last night. A sense of dread settles over me as I roll over to face him. Instead of finding him watching me or happily awake, I find a piece of paper instead.

  Amy

  I’m sorry I have to do this in a letter, but I’m too big of a coward to tell you to your face. I can’t stand to see the pain reflecting in your beautiful green eyes. Before I tell you the meaning of this, I want you to know without a shadow of a doubt that everything I’ve said is one hundred percent true. I love you. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone—even the person who turned me into the man you met, the broken man you repaired.

  You’re so much fun to be around. You’re beautiful and kind, and you have so much passion. You love wholeheartedly, and you forgive without any fear. Which is why I’m hoping you can forgive me for what I’m about to say.

  You’re such an inspiration to me, Amy. The way you handled everything with your mom was beautiful and loving—so you. It’s important to be able to love in life, but it’s also important to be able to forgive and move on. I haven’t been doing that. I’ve been holding a grudge, and that really eats away at your soul.

  So, when my father called me yesterday and asked me to come home and take my rightful place at the ranch, I had a lot to think about. I wanted to go on living the way I had been—with you by my side. But then I thought about that talk we had the day your mom came home. I told you that if my parents were to call and want to make up for everything, I’d like to be able to forgive them. I thought about the way you handled things with your mom, and I want to be like you, live the way you do: so full of love, understanding, and forgiveness.

  I never wanted to live without you, Amy. But I have to right the mess I’ve made in life. I have to go home and be with my family. My brother finally broke free of the ranch he never wanted, and my family needs me. If I don’t go, they could lose the ranch, and you know I can’t turn my back on that. It’s the only thing I ever wanted…until I fell in love with you, that is.

  I never wanted to hurt you, and I hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive me. I hope I don’t leave you as broken as I was when you found me. I hope that all your dr
eams come true, and that you’ll be able to move on with the person you’re meant to be with— a person who is right for you in every way I’m not. Please remember, I love you, Amy, and I’m sorry for everything.

  Love,

  Tyler

  * * *

  Tears escape from my eyes and my breathing stops until my lungs tingle and burn for oxygen. Tyler’s gone. He left. And he couldn’t even tell me goodbye to my face. I feel my heart crack and weep for him. I feel my soul melt away, leaving nothing but a puddle of tears.

  A sob breaks free and I crumple the letter to my chest as I curl in a ball and sob, crying out his name over and over, begging God for this to be a sick joke. How could he do this to me—after everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve been through?

  The deep, dark part of me that I always hide away smiles and says, you deserve this. You weren’t good enough for him.

  But over the last few months, I’ve learned to block her out completely. It was always the same voice that told me that I made my mother the drunk she was, that I’d never get my happy ending, and that I didn’t deserve to find love.

  Being with Tyler blocked that voice inside of me. I thought she had disappeared completely…until now. She’s back and he’s gone.

  I cry until my head hurts. I shake with sobs until every muscle is sore and weak. I hate myself until my body finally gives up and shuts down, pulling me into a deep sleep.

  I wake when my phone rings, causing the ringing in my head to get louder.

  “Hello?” I answer the phone, unable to open my eyes.

  “Amy?” Vesper asks.

  With her voice, the tears start flooding from my eyes again, even though my head is begging them not to. I can’t take the pain in my head. I can’t take the pain in my heart.

  “He’s gone, Vesper. He left,” I cry.

  “I know,” she whispers. “He called Liam to let him know he’d need to find a new ranch hand. We’re heading back now so he can be replaced.”

  I can’t do anything but cry.

  “I’m so sorry, Amy. Just hang on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hear her sniffle on the other side of the line like she’s crying right along with me.

  I nod my head, even though she can’t see me, and hang up the phone. Rolling over, I cry myself to sleep.

  I wake when I hear the door creak open. I look over my shoulder just in time to see Vesper climb up on the bed with me. She wraps her arm around my stomach and pulls me against her. I reach down and place my hand in hers, squeezing gently—but I’m so weak that it’s all the strength I’ve got.

  “I’m sorry, Amy,” she whispers. “I wish I could take away this pain for you.”

  I sniffle. “It’s okay.” It’s not, but I don’t know what else to say.

  “I think only time will heal. You just need to stay focused on other things: your mom’s recovery, and the opening of the coffee shop.”

  I nod, but none of that feels important anymore. The pain I feel is the only thing I can focus on.

  “What do you say we get up and have some dinner. Maybe some wine?”

  “I don’t have the energy to move.”

  “You have to eat, Amy.” She pulls away and stands. “Now get up, take a long, hot shower, and come downstairs. I’m feeding you whether you like it or not.” Without another word, she turns and leaves me alone—a feeling I should probably get used to.

  With a deep breath, I force myself to stand—feeling a little dizzy—and walk to the connected bathroom. I turn the shower on as hot as it will go and step beneath the scorching flow of water. The steam fills the room as I lay my head against the tile, remembering last night: the way he touched me so tenderly, the gasps and moans that escaped his lips, and his words right as I was drifting off to sleep, always remember.

  More tears fill my eyes and fall over the brims, even though I didn’t know I could possibly cry any more. I feel tired, mentally and physically. I have no energy to shower, let alone go downstairs and hold a conversation. Not only that, but I really don’t want to see Vesper and Liam together and happy. Even though I’m happy for her, it will only remind me of Tyler—not that I can stop thinking about him anyway.

  When the water begins to run cold, I turn it off and step out, wrapping a big fluffy towel around my quivering body. I wipe the steam away from the mirror and look myself over. My eyes are red and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. My face seems hollow and lacking any color. My eyes are puffy and swollen. When I look at my lips, I get a quick flash of the way he kissed me last night. They tingle with the memory that causes my fingertips to trace them, wanting to hold on to the memory forever.

  When another sob leaves my lips, I turn away, unable to look at the broken woman staring back at me in the mirror. Walking into the bedroom, I slip into a pair of baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Then I pull my wet hair up into a messy bun. Sliding my feet into a pair of flip-flops, I leave the room and go to find Vesper.

  She’s moving about the kitchen, cooking. Already, two glasses of wine sit on the table. I take a seat and lift one to my lips, drinking it faster than necessary, but it’s the one thing that will bring me relief—make me forget. Suddenly, I understand how my mom could’ve wasted so many years of her life.

  “It won’t replace him, Amy,” Vesper says, watching me from across the kitchen.

  I nod. “I know. But it will kill the pain and bring me a little relief for the night.” I stand and grab the bottle of wine, pouring another full glass. The whole time, Vesper gives me a disapproving look.

  A long breath leaves me. “Can you please just be my best friend right now? Don’t judge me and look at me like I used to look at my mother. Just…” A tear slides out. “Just have fun and get wasted with me.”

  Her eyes hold sadness, but she forces a smile and nods, moving in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Amy. Of course I can do that.” She pulls away. “Let’s eat some dinner, then I’ll get Liam to drop us off at the bar for a little while. How does that sound?”

  For the first time all day, a smile appears on my face. “Thank you.”

  We quickly have a quiet dinner, just the two of us. Then I leave the kitchen to make myself look a little more presentable. In my room, I sit down at the vanity in the corner, and apply all my usual makeup and straighten my hair. I pull out a pair of tight jean shorts and slide into them. Looking at myself in the mirror, they highlight all of my best features: my long legs, curvy hips, and plump ass. I pull off my sweatshirt and replace it with a white tank top that makes my tan appear darker. Turning away from the mirror with approval, I go to put on my shoes and realize all I have are my beat-up house flip-flops and a pair of brown cowboy boots. I slide on the boots with a shrug.

  When I get downstairs, Vesper and Liam are waiting by the door.

  “Dammmn, Amy,” Vesper catcalls.

  “You’re going to get yourself in trouble looking like that, Amy,” Liam tells me.

  I let out a laugh, already feeling a bit of a buzz from the wine I drank with dinner. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for tonight, Liam,” I say, walking past him and out the door.

  Liam drops us off at the bar, promising to stay close so he can pick us up when needed. I head straight to the bar to find Sarah behind it.

  “Hey, girl! I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s been up?”

  I place a hundred on the bar. “Bad breakup. I need shots.”

  She nods once, then turns for the bottle.

  Vesper and I sit at the bar, drinking shot after shot and chasing it with our beer. In thirty minutes, I feel alive and free. The weight of the day has fallen off and I can breathe for the first time. My lungs thank me. All day, it felt like I was only taking in enough oxygen to keep going—like it wasn’t reaching the bottom of my lungs. Now they feel fully inflated, taking away the pain in my chest.

  “You know, I don’t know why I settled down in the first place,” I slur, grabbing ahold of Vesper’s arm and dragging her to the da
nce floor.

  I lift my arms above my head and spin around to the beat of the music.

  “Amy, I’m glad you’re finally having some fun, but don’t you think it’s time to go?”

  I frown. “No way. I finally feel alive!” I grab ahold of her hand and force her to dance with me. At first, she’s stiff and not moving to the beat very much. But after several minutes, she loosens up and begins having fun.

  Before I know it, I find myself slipping into my old ways—smiling, laughing, and checking out the guys.

  “You know, maybe I need a rebound guy.”

  Vesper stops dancing and tugs me back to our barstools. “Amy, this isn’t just a random hookup you’re trying to get over. You and Tyler were in a relationship, and nothing will make that pain go away but time. Don’t go digging your hole any deeper. Forcing this will only end up hurting you. You have to heal.”

  Just the mention of Tyler’s name causes that pain in my chest to make itself known. But I refuse to feel it. I lift my beer bottle and finish it off.

  A man leans against the bar at my side. “I saw you dancing out there. You’re gorgeous, did you know that?”

  I smile. “What’s your name?”

  He dips his head forward as a greeting. “I’m Mason.”

  “I’m Amy. Would you like to dance?”

  He runs his hand through his dark hair and smiles. “I’d love to.” He holds out his hand, and I place mine inside.

  “Amy!” Vesper calls out after me, but I don’t turn around. I want to be free of the pain, even if only for a little while. I want to throw caution to the wind. I want to be free and happy. Why is that so bad? It’s not like I’m going home with the guy.

  Mason spins me around on the dance floor, pulling me against his chest. Our eyes lock and he smiles as we begin moving to the beat of the music. His strong arms hold me closely, and it feels wrong. Not bad, just wrong. His scent, his eyes, his smell, it’s all wrong.