by Vivian Wood
Fuck, that feels so good.
It’s been so long since I felt her fist gripping my dick that I close my eyes when she touches me. She gives me a few experimental strokes, testing the waters. But when I see her head going down to my cock, I have to stop her.
“No, not now,” I grit out, guiding her face up to mine. “I don’t want to blow my load in your mouth. I want your pussy, and I want it right now.”
She straddles me, breathing a little bit faster. I force her head down and kiss her, even as I lift my hips up. My cock touches her warm inner thigh. I close my eyes for the briefest moment, distracting myself with the names of rum brands.
Bacardi. Captain Morgan’s. Appleton Estates. Kraken. Sailor Jerry. Cruzan…
I open my eyes, realizing that I should’ve definitely jacked off in the last couple of days. Or maybe been with a girl that was less hot than Cate, who is a straight up bombshell.
I kiss her, pressing her ass down so that her knees widen.
“You’re going to have to ride slow,” I warn. “I’m so fucking hot for you right now, I can barely see straight.”
She flushes but smiles timidly. God, I love the fact that this ballsy, mouthy woman is still put onto her back foot by sex. “Is that right?” she asks.
I just grunt, pressing her down again. I use my free hand to stand my cock straight up, groaning when the blunt tip touches her pussy lips. They are already dripping with moisture.
Cate’s been waiting for me, it seems.
She sinks down on my dick, her expression enraptured. I have to close my eyes and list whiskey brands while she stretches to take all of me.
“Fuck!” I mutter. “God damn, you’re so tight, princess. So wet. So perfect.”
When she finally takes all of my cock, I pull her down for a long, slow kiss.
“Are you ready?” she asks, already breathless.
To answer her question, I move my hips upward. She cries out, but she doesn’t stop. No, she keeps going, her actions growing frenzied. Her pussy grips my cock as she rides me.
I move my hand down between our bodies, rubbing her clit. I am going to make damn sure that she comes when I do… and I’m going to come pretty damn soon.
“Oh my god,” she says, leaning forward. “Omigod, right there…”
I can feel her tensing and clenching, getting close to the edge.
“Fuck. That’s right. I love the way you ride me, princess. You feel so fucking good. The way that sweet pussy grips my cock so tight—”
That little bit of dirty talk is enough to push her over the edge. She cries out, her pussy spasming wildly, her nails scoring the flesh of my chest.
I let myself go, pumping up into her body with abandon. I can feel the orgasm before it hits, feel it down low in my balls. It tears loose and I thrust upward again and again, her greedy little pussy milking my cock of every drop.
I slow, then stop, trying to catch my breath. She lays sprawled across my chest, her breathing rapid, covered in a layer of sweat. Not just hers, but mine, too. They’ve mixed, become something more than just sweat.
Cate pulls down her skirt and top as she drags in her breaths. “We should cover ourselves up. I don’t want Owen or Bradford to walk out here, looking for you.”
Instead of listening to her, I cup the back of her head and kiss her thoroughly. “The windows are fogged up, princess. We’re safe from prying eyes for a few minutes.”
A chill runs through her body. She looks at me, passion still thick in her eyes. “I like when you call me that.”
My mouth curves upward. “What, princess?”
She bites her lip and nods. “Yes. It’s a little… dirty. You only say it when you have sex on your mind.”
Her cheeks color. She twines her fingers with mine. I rub little circles into the palm of her hand with my thumb. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
She looks down at our clasped hands. “This is nice.”
“The fucking?” I ask.
“No,” she says, frowning at me and shaking her head. “I just meant… when we don’t fight, it’s nice to just… be together.”
My lips quirk. “See, I think that the fighting feeds the flame. Like if we didn’t bicker, our sex wouldn’t be as hot.”
Her brow furrows. “What would happen if we didn’t fight, then? Do you think that we would just… lose interest in each other?”
I pull her hand, moving her incrementally closer. “I don’t think I will ever lose interest in you, princess. Maybe you’ll drive me crazy. Maybe I’ll say the wrong thing and you’ll run. But lose interest in you?” I kiss her, long and slow, flicking her tongue with mine. “I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry about that.”
Then I roll her over, so that I’m on top of her body. I start kissing her again, my fingers sneaking up to her breasts, pushing the fabric away once more.
“Luca!” she says. I can tell despite her breathy tone that she’s complaining, so I bury my face in the crook of her neck.
“What?” I murmur.
“Can we please go home first?” she asks. I catch her nipple with my fingers, rolling it, making her moan.
“Not a chance in hell, princess.”
I kiss her, silencing any further protests.
27
Cate
The next morning, I slip out of Luca’s bed. Without even looking at the calendar, I already know why my heart is so heavy.
It’s the last day of January.
Five years ago today, I lost my entire family. One distracted driver who was looking at his phone. One foggy afternoon in the hills surrounding Seattle. And one curvy road…
Together, those things made me an orphan. I can’t bear to think of it, much less talk to another person about why I’m forever broken and desolate. I almost weep just thinking about it.
That’s why I am better alone, today especially. So I steal out of Luca’s bedroom and to my own, getting dressed. I stuff a huge wad of tissues into my coat pocket and shoulder my purse, then leave Luca’s house quietly.
I order myself an Uber, just as I have the four years before on this date. As I watch out the window silently, the Uber navigates through fog and a little rain, toward the highest point in the city. It’s early on a Sunday and the weather is bad, so there is hardly anyone out. It’s so foggy as we climb the final stretch that I can barely make out the road ahead.
I can see the street beside me, though. That’s all that counts. When I see Dorie’s Market coming up, I say so to the driver.
“Do you mind stopping right here?” I ask. “Please, on the right. I can walk from here.”
“Of course,” she says cheerfully. She pulls over, letting me out. “Have a great day.”
I say nothing, my chin wobbling. It’s still hard to accept that other people don’t know that this monumental, world-changing thing happened.
My mom and dad died and no one is the wiser. Everyone just carries on with their humdrum little lives as if nothing had ever happened.
I take a deep breath, my feet carrying me toward the little market. I push open the door, cringing at the sound of the bell overhead. Dorie’s Market is just the same as it was five years ago. It’s still stocked high with canned goods and a small produce section. It still smells most strongly of lemon, like wood polish maybe.
And most importantly to me, it still has fresh flowers. Right between the heads of lettuce and the berries are a few bouquets of flowers.
I choose the one with the most color, selecting the bouquet that has pink ranunculus, yellow daisies, dark red roses, and baby’s breath. My mom would have loved this arrangement; she always preferred bright bursts of color over more muted flowers.
My eyes well up at that. I rush to the counter and pay for them, then get out of the store as quickly as I can manage.
I step out into the morning chill, my eyes settling on the cemetery. From here, I can just barely make out the big wrought-iron gates.
Cavalry Catholic Cemetery lies
just beyond, though the fog makes it impossible to see just now. Taking a deep breath, I step out into the road, crossing the cobblestone street toward the cemetery.
It’s a little uphill walk. I reach the gates with minimal huffing, but then I stop. Looking up at the broad arch made of wrought iron, I swallow.
“Just go in,” I tell myself. “You can do it…”
I always have this trouble at this particular point. Knowing what lies beyond prevents me from entering the gates with any kind of ease. But sooner or later, guilt will win out. It just a matter of time.
I hear a car door slam. As I am trying to psych myself up, or maybe just let my guilt overwhelm me, I hear a familiar voice.
“Are you stuck?”
I turn halfway. There is Luca, walking up the last few steps of the hill.
“What on earth are you doing here?”
Luca shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, looking at me with a careful expression on his face. “I followed you here.”
My mouth twists. “Why?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Because. I want to know things about you.” He looks up at the cemetery gates. “I didn’t realize that you were coming here, obviously.”
I look down at the flowers I’m holding. My fingers tremble. “You should leave. This is private.”
I can’t bear the thought of Luca watching me grieve.
Instead of listening to me, he moves closer and touches my arm. “Hey. Will you look at me?”
Glancing up into his face, I feel so exposed. Tears gather in my eyes again. This whole day is always emotional for me and being vulnerable in front of him is only making me more sensitive.
Somewhere nearby, church bells begin to ring out. I suck in a breath.
I am so ashamed to be crying in front of him. It’s not the first time by any means, but that doesn’t make it less excruciating.
Luca doesn’t waver though. He moves closer and runs his hand over my back. His dark eyes bore into me.
“I’ll wait for you out here if that’s what you really want. But I’m also ready to go inside the cemetery.” He nods at the high gates. “If you were hoping to get through today alone though, you’re out of luck.”
I sniffle, looking down at my flowers again. I’m just so sad right now about so many things. Too many things to even list. But Luca doesn’t make me sad.
Angry at times, yes. And lord knows that he frustrates me. But he makes me giddy sometimes, and I laugh at his jokes when we’re not fighting. Then there’s the incredible, not to be missed sex we’ve been having…
And he’s also showing remarkable kindness to me right this second. So I make a decision, right here and now.
“You can come,” I say. My voice sounds miserable, but at least I said something. At least I made a decision.
Luca nods, his expression somber. He takes my arm and guides me through the gate that I was stuck outside of. Graves rise up on either side of the cement path, some mausoleums and some more austere and small grave markers. I point to the left.
“We’ll have to go that way.”
We walk through the morning chill, passing through the oldest section of the cemetery. I can only make out the path a few hundred feet in front of us. Everything else just sinks back into the gray and foggy morass.
We come to a fork in the path and I turn right, pulling Luca along with me.
Soon I see a towering tree, its branches bare this time of year; my parents are buried just beneath it and I always look for it to navigate here.
I cut down one of the aisles, being extremely respectful of the graves as I go. Soon we reach the tree, a colossal oak whose branches twist into the sky.
I look down to find the graves of my parents right next to each other. The stones are a boring gray granite. His name and her name, with the dates of their births and deaths. The inscriptions just say beloved father and beloved mother because I couldn’t even come up with anything to say at the time.
I couldn’t stop crying then and I can’t hold back my tears now.
Luca stops a few paces behind me. I feel self-conscious as I lay the flowers between my parents’ graves and sniffle.
“Hi Mom. Hi Dad.” I fight to keep my composure. Looking back behind me, I see Luca waiting, his expression patient.
He’s too close for me to talk to them like I usually do. I scrunch up my face but before I can say anything to him about it, he raises his hand.
“I’ll be over there,” he says, pointing to the path we left a few minutes ago. “Take your time.”
I bite my lip and watch him walk away, nearly disappearing into the foggy morning light. He stops and stares off into the distance, hovering just on the edge of my vision.
I turn back to the graves, my brow furrowing. A dead leaf blows onto my father’s grave and stays there. Stepping closer, I remove it, stuffing the leaf in my pocket.
“So that was Luca,” I say, glancing back at him briefly. “You met him, actually. I think you did anyway. The Christmas before…” I stop, correcting myself. “The Christmas before I graduated high school, I mean. I was at the Leone’s party. You both went to a movie and swung by the Leone’s house to pick me up. Luca introduced himself, even though I think it was brief.” I sniff. “Anyway, he’s a good guy. I know, I sort of hated him for all the years that you were… you were here.”
I bow my head, sadness overwhelming me for a moment. My tears roll down my face, dripping off freely. It takes a minute to master myself again.
“Sorry,” I rasp. I produce the wad of tissues, wiping my face and blowing my nose. “I just… I miss you guys both so much. It’s hard…” My voice cracks. Tears blur my vision. I bow again, going through the entire process. Let the tears overwhelm me, tamp down on my emotions again, blow my nose.
“It’s hard living without you guys. Dad, you’ll be glad to know that I kept volunteering at the women’s shelter. Just like we used to do when you were alive. Mom, you’ll…” I pause. “Well, you’ll be glad to hear that I am still going to mass every week. You would be less excited to know that I’ve been living with Luca… but not everything is about church.”
I look back at Luca, blowing out a breath. “Actually, I’m married. Well, not like… married married. But I married Luca after I had too much to drink. Don’t worry, I think we’re going to annul it. That should make you feel incrementally better about me living with someone. He is my husband.”
For now, at least…
Sighing, I purse my lips. “Grandma is good. She’s doing well. Luna is good. She’s working at the University of Washington Medical Center, doing her medical school rotations and stuff. Oh! And Harper got a job with a big publishing house. She has a fancy office downtown.”
I think about what else they would like to know. “I realize that you guys probably are already aware of all of this… being up in heaven and all. I just… I wanted you to hear it all from me, I guess. Isn’t that silly? Feels kind of stupid, to be talking to your graves like you are actually here.”
The church bells ring out again briefly, drawing my attention for a split second. It’s cold out here; I hunch down into my coat. And spend a few minutes staring at the ground in silence.
“I guess I should go,” I say at length. “Just know…” Tears well again. “That you are very missed here. And you are still very loved. And although I have plenty of time left on earth, a lifetime will be over when you blink. We’ll all be together again in the afterlife. Okay?”
I blow my nose again. “I’ll try to come see you guys in a few months, when it’s warmer outside. Okay? I won’t wait a year this time.” I wipe at my eyes. “Bye, Mom and Dad.”
Turning away from their graves, I steel myself as I walk back down the row toward the path.
I find Luca sitting on a bench, staring out across the graveyard. The morning is starting to warm up and with the warmth goes the fog. When he sees me walking toward him, his lips thin.
“Hey.”
I sit down be
side him on the cement bench, looking out across the graveyard. “Hey.”
A moment of tension blooms between us as I try to find the right thing to say. Something nice, something to erase the frown on his lips.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” he says.
I’m surprised by that. “Oh. Well… it was a while ago.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I know. But the time passed obviously doesn’t make it better.”
I narrow my eyes. “No. The pain fades but it doesn’t disappear.”
I look down at my hands, rubbing them together for warmth. I’m still at a loss for words, it seems.
Luca looks up at the sky. “I imagine that planning things is harder. Like big life things.” He slides me a glance. “Getting married, for instance. How do you throw a wedding when you know that your parents won’t be there?”
I suck in a long breath. “For me, it isn’t that, exactly. It’s more like…” I stop to think for a few seconds. “Why date someone? Why get married? Why have kids? When my parents died, their love just… vanished. One day, just poof.” I gesture with my hands. “I’m so afraid to… to love anything or anyone like that ever again. It just seems like a surefire way to open yourself up to heartbreak.”
Luca looks at me for a long moment. I expect him to disagree, to roll his eyes. To dismiss my feelings.
But he doesn’t. Instead he reaches his arm around me, drawing me close. And I burrow into his warmth, appreciating his silent presence more than I think he knows. Putting my head on his shoulder, I try to control the way my eyes well up again.
He puts his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. “It’s okay to cry, Cate.”
For some reason, his words make a sob rise in my chest. But he doesn’t shush me or pull away. He just brushes some hair back from my face and rubs my shoulder a little bit.
I bury my face in his leather jacket, breathing in his warm scent and crying like a little kid. His touch never changes, although I do notice that he does start rocking me a little bit.