by Mj Fields
“We aren’t—”
“Hush up for a few more minutes, would you?”
She nods.
“You sent me a message that I responded to a million times and deleted them all. I thought you deserved better. Hell, I knew you did.”
She gasps. “It didn’t go through.”
I smirk. “It definitely did.”
“The message was a drunken accident—”
“Now who has the problem?” I look at her and raise my eyebrows.
“Hush up.” She smiles.
“I was surrounded by kids, happy couples … Hell, I even stood up for Finn and helped plan a little surprise wedding for his baby’s momma. So I suppose I was like, ‘look at this: this dog loves me, kind of like these kids do’ you all. I showed Momma Joe, and she wouldn’t let it go. She taught me in seventeen days what family, loyalty, and even love was. She was more of a mother to me than mine ever was.
“She reminds me of you. Not in the way my dick needs to be inside of you, but by way of strength, confidence and”—here goes nothing and everything all at once—”love.”
She is still giving me the sweet, somewhat sad smile.
“I knew from the first time I met you that you were the ‘different’ you hear your friends talk about or see in a cheesy, gushy, chick flick. I knew I was drawn to you. And let’s be honest; I knew before even tasting or touching you that you would be one hell of a lay. But I didn’t know I would be trading one addiction for another in just three days.
“I wanna get high on you, low on you, be inside and outside of you. I’m not asking, because there is no question for me to ask. I am telling you because it’s the only truth that has ever outshined the darkness. You. Are. Mine.”
“River—”
“I love you.”
I don’t know how to describe the feeling that washes over me, but the silence is killing me.
“Look, I’m supposed to talk about feelings and shit, and right now, I’m feeling like I would assume a man with a small dick would feel about being naked in a locker room. I mean, I obviously will never have that issue, but I can imagine it would suck, and me imagining how anyone else feels is a big fucking step. Epic in fact.”
She looks sad—completely, undeniably sad—so I kiss her. Not hard like normal, just lip to lip because the low of not hearing the words back … sucks. And the only high I want to feel is the one that I know is there. I know she loves me. I know she does.
I pull back and take her face in my hands, watching her watch me.
“Say something.” I feel like I’m begging. Hell, I am begging. “Come on, babe. I know you feel it, too.” I push my forehead against hers. “Say. Something.”
How does someone whose heart’s desire is to help people, whose career choice is to show people they are worth living, end up knowing she is going to hurt someone who has worked hard to get clean, wants to be clean, and has ventured out of their comfort zone, opening themselves up to the possibilities of love and a new life?
“Oh, I see.” He smiles and kisses me again.
“You do?” I ask, selfishly wanting, praying for something to change in him, to make him stay sober, yet not love me.
“You are seeing someone. You don’t wanna say the words to me until you end it with them.”
I smile without answering because he seems to have given me an out. Maybe he will wake up tomorrow and hate me.
“So the chances of me getting inside you tonight are what, fifty-fifty?”
I sigh.
“Okay, fine. Fuck!” He picks me up and spins me around, kissing me on the cheek, and then sets me down. “Can you go and break up with him, then come over?”
I shake my head.
“Okay, fine. What’s one more fucking day, right?” He smiles and looks up. “What the hell are the chances of this happening? I mean, I have gone to meetings since I’ve been back, every night a different location. The guys said it would be better that way. No one will figure out that I’m in the band. And if they did, they wouldn’t see me again. Then I come here and run into you. That’s divine intervention, babe. So when you call him and tell him it’s over, no matter how much he begs—the poor motherfucker—remember that, okay?”
I nod and smile.
He looks at me oddly. “You okay with this? I mean, if it’s gonna be a problem, I can do it for you.”
“No.” I nod. “I can handle it.”
His head cocks to the side. “You ever tell him you loved him?”
“No,” I answer truthfully.
“Do you love him?”
“No.” I close my eyes.
“Good, because I don’t believe this shit that you can love two people, and I know damn well you love me,” he says, bending to look me in the eyes. “Right?”
I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly because I do. I so do. More than he will ever know.
“I love you,” he whispers, and I squeeze him more tightly. “If this wasn’t a church, I would fuck you right here. No fucking man could stop me, and I know damn well you wouldn’t, either.”
“I really need to go.”
He kisses me hard again. This time, I kiss him back with the fierceness of a woman who knows she is about to walk away from a love that could and would shatter her heart.
*****
When I walk in the house, Natasha greets me with a glass of wine. I thank her, setting it on the coffee table.
“Let me change, and I will be back.”
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Long story. Give me a minute.”
I walk in my room, knowing the floodgates are going to open, and no amount of trying to stop them is going to work.
I hate when people know my pain. I have hidden this pain. I have more than hidden it; I blocked it.
I grab the shirt I wore on his birthday, the one I hid behind the boxes on the top of my closet when I moved in since I couldn’t bear to part with it. I hold it up to my nose and pretend it still smells like him, but it doesn’t. It smells like fabric softener.
I pull off my shirt and kick off my pants then stand there, sniffing that damn shirt until the tears start falling.
I look down and see my dog … on my bed. She has been just as depressed as I have, so I have let it slide. I sit down and hug her tight, and she sighs.
“We’re going to be just fine. You and me, Tinker Bell. I swear it. I am going to come out of this stronger than ever. So will you.” I sit back and give her a scratch behind the ear. “I’ll be back, or you could come out with me.”
She lays her head down and sighs again.
“I understand. I’m exhausted, too.”
When I walk out, Natasha is on the couch with her own glass of wine and a bottle beside her.
“What’s going on? Did you find your purse-napper?”
“Shit, no. I didn’t even call the police.”
“What did they get?”
“Last week’s Ulta binge purchases and some cash. The purse matched the shoes.” I shrug.
“No ID? No keys?”
“No. I grabbed a purse that matched my shoes. I was running late, so there wasn’t time to put everything in it. And keys stay around my wrist at work, thank God.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
“I know.” And the dam breaks. “I saw him tonight, Natasha. He came to the meeting. He looked amazing.”
“How did he know you were there?”
“He didn’t, said it was divine intervention.” I cry harder.
Tink growls and barks.
“Tink, come out here, girl.”
She doesn’t and I sigh.
“She’s fine, Keanna, but is what he said so bad?” she asks, taking my hand.
“Very, very bad. He’s sober and seems happy, and he said he loves me.”
She hugs me. “I’m not sure what to say. Is that bad?”
I pull back and wipe my face. “I never expected this. I thought it was a fli
ng.”
“But you should be happy. Aside from the fact that he’s gorgeous and a freaking rock star, he said he loves you. Do you doubt it?”
“No, I don’t.” I pick up my glass and drain its contents. “If I tell him how I feel, I will eventually disappoint him. If it lasts between us and I tell him the truth about me, it will devastate him.”
“What are you talking about? You’re amazing.”
I can’t take it anymore. “I can’t have children.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m a nurse. I saw a doctor—four doctors. The scarring in my tubes was caused by PID—pelvic inflammatory disease. No, I never had an STD. I was young when it happened, some sort of bacterial infection. It’s one of those uncommon medical mysteries. I often wonder if it happened when I was still living with my mother and she just didn’t know I was sick.”
“Oh, Keanna, I am so sorry. But you can have children. You can adopt, or someone could be a surrogate; there are so many options.”
“No. A man like River …” I stop because I can’t tell her his secrets. “He deserves much more than I can give him. I’m afraid for his sobriety, and I wish he had just stayed away. I mean, he didn’t even actually come for me, but …”
I stop when I hear a knock on the door.
“Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” She stands up and walks to the entryway. I hear her open the door.
She walks back in, eyes wide. “It’s for you.”
I stand up and hurry over, worried it’s a work problem, and then I see him.
“You got a minute?”
I feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to tell him what I know will make him go away.
I shake my head, and he nods his, kicks off his boots, and walks into my bedroom without asking where it is.
“If you need me,” Natasha whispers and points to the stairs, “I’ll be in bed.”
I take in a deep breath then exhale slowly, grab the bottle of wine, and swig it back.
When I finally walk into my room, I see him close the window.
“Was that open?”
“Let’s not get into that right now.” He walks quickly past me and shuts the door. Then I hear the lock. When he turns around and looks at me, his eyes are intense, and his jaw is locked.
I ask about the window again.
“Yes, it was open.” Then he pulls his shirt over his head.
I close my eyes quickly. “I didn’t leave it open.”
“No, but you left in unlocked, which is stupid. I climbed right in.”
I open my eyes and shake my head.
“Yeah, I did. Couldn’t shake the feeling something was fucking wrong. Wondered if you were back together with it that dick Miguel.”
“Of course not.”
“Good damn thing or I’d be in jail.” He sighs, “ I watched you get half naked, then dress.” He unbuckles his black belt, and then his pants fall to the floor.
“River,” I gasp and turn to close the curtains.
“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, Keanna. You’ve been undressing in here for weeks, I assume, and your neighbors have been getting a show. Quite frankly, it’s pissing me off.” In two long strides, he is across the room and whips the curtains back open. Then he grabs my face and kisses me hard, possessively, hungrily.
When he pulls back, I touch my lips.
“Hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. Now tell me about this boyfriend.” He stands back and grabs ahold of his erection.
I shake my head.
“So you lied to me?”
“Not because I wanted to.”
He releases his cock, walks over, shuts the curtains, and then turns and reaches forward, grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling it up.
“Arms up.”
“River,” I protest vocally while obeying his request physically.
“I want your tongue running slowly down this dead fucking tree on my side.”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t need to, just do as I asked.”
I don’t move.
“You want it. I know you do, so don’t act like it’s a chore to lick my skin.”
I close my eyes and step toward him.
“Good. Now, as your hot, little mouth runs along my body, I’m gonna tell you a fucking story. Then you and I are done with the discussion as soon as my cum hits the back of your throat.”
“That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” I say because I know I should.
“Trust me.”
I want him. In fact, I need him right now more than I have ever needed anyone. And yes, I trust him … completely.
As soon as my lips touch his skin, he hums, and I feel it throughout my body.
“I had this tattoo done four years ago.”
I begin moving my tongue slowly down his body, loving how his skin tastes: clean, manly. His scent is the same—distinctively River.
“The tree of life.” He chuckles. “My life. The black crows are all dead to me yet still sucking the life out of me—my mother, my father, Jesse—until I didn’t give a fuck. It hurt too much to give a fuck.”
I kiss him, then lick down the roots.
“The root’s base ends where life begins—my seed. Any future lives I could fuck up won’t come from me.”
I stop and look up.
“I got that shit taken care of.” He lifts his dick up. “Incision scar on the raphe, near my balls.”
“Who would allow you to do that?” I gasp.
“A doctor who liked cash, and I had a picture of him doing lines.” He laughs.
I gasp. “You trusted someone to do that?”
“I’m kind of fond of my cock, Keanna. It wasn’t done in a fucking alley between lines.” He strokes himself and rubs the tip of his cock across my lips. “You’re fond of it, too. But before you suck me off, tell me what I already know.”
This is the moment when I decide if I give him the ability to wreck and ruin me. I’m terrified, but I cannot lie to him.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
When he smiles, tapping his dick on my lips, I lean forward and attempt to take him in my mouth, but he pulls back.
“One more thing: if you ever lie to me again, I will tie you up and jerk off all over you before walking out the door.”
I can’t help giggling, and he smiles.
“Love you. Now show me you do, too.”
I lick my lips and take him in my mouth.
“Well, hell.” I scratch my head and pull her up. “That hasn’t happened in a very, very long time.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.”
I wipe a little of me off her lip before kissing her. “I’m not embarrassed,” I say against her mouth. “I’m just ready to get you there.”
I push her down on the bed. She is stunning in her white, lacey bra and booty shorts against her brown skin.
“Tink, girl, this bed is too small. You’re gonna have to get down,” I say as I rub her belly. “The hell …?”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Tink’s got nipples.” I push her hair aside.
Keanna sits up. “Of course she does.”
“No, they’re, like, long. Look.”
Keanna pets her belly, examining her closely. “Yeah.”
“What’s yeah mean?”
“It means she needs to go to the vet.”
“For …?”
“Well, it could mean she is pregnant.”
I can’t help laughing long and hard. “I’ll fucking kill those bastards.”
“Maybe she’s not,” Keanna remarks, looking at me all doe-eyed and sexy as hell.
I reach over and grab her ankle as I stand off the bed. “Tink, I know you’re all grown and shit, but you’ve gotta get down.”
She lays on her side.
“Then you better close your eyes.”
/>
I yank Keanna to the end of the bed and pull her legs so they wrap around my waist. Then I bend down and unsnap her front clasp bra and watch as her tits spill out, unrestrained. Leaning in, I lick each of her perfect and fully erect nipples. Her back arches against my mouth as I suck hard enough to make her cry out.
I reach down and rub the lace between her legs as I suck on her left then her right nipple, biting down as I push my fingers under the lace and slowly push a finger inside. Her hands grip my shoulders.
I kiss down her soft, warm stomach until I reach her hip where I kiss back and forth across her hips while I work another finger inside her. Her hips grind against my touch as I turn my wrist, twisting my fingers, rubbing her hot, wet walls as I toy with her ass.
I rub her wetness up and down her seam, coating her ass and then rubbing my pinky against it, hoping like hell she is in for another round of me claiming every part of her tonight.
As I push two fingers inside her pussy and push my finger a little farther into her ass, I lean down, lick around her clit, and suck, bringing her to an immediate orgasm. She starts to pull away.
“Fuck that. You’re gonna come so hard for me, for you, for us.”
“I am … Oh, River, I am,” she whispers her cry.
“Let go, babe; you’re holding back. I’ve got you literally in my fucking hand, all of you. All mine,” I growl as my dick becomes almost unbearably hard.
I lick her pussy like it’s been three fucking weeks since I have, because it has, and it’s been hell.
“God!” she cries out and really lets go.
I suck her clit hard and fuck her faster with my fingers until she has tears coming out of her eyes.
“Fuck,” I hiss, pulling my hand away before I tear her panties down and rub my cock against her hot, slick entrance, pushing in as her orgasm still rips through her.
*****
The next morning when we come out of the bedroom, Natasha immediately turns bright red, and her eyes fixate on the floor.
“Everything okay?” Keanna asks.
She nods.
Keanna covers her mouth. “Oh, God.”
“Yeah,” Natasha whispers. “Heard that a few times last night.”