by Shey Stahl
Red seems all for the kissing. In fact, he practically attacks me once we’re in this position. His tongue excitedly exploring my mouth giving into the passion but there’s a certain amount of himself he’s forced to hold back. The parts of him that are still injured.
Needing to breathe, we part, gasping, and stare at each other. “Jesus,” he murmurs, running his nose along my jaw, attempting to catch his breath. “I don’t see how I’m going to wait.” His eyes scan over me, lingering on my breasts before dipping lower. A slight smirk touches his lips, his eyes blazing with desire. “I missed you.”
When he raises his mouth to mine, again, my eyes flutter closed. I fight back a shiver, wanting to melt into him right then. As he fists my hair in his hands, his groans become lost against my lips.
Our kiss is slow but promising, and then it turns into something else entirely. Impatient. And I know where this is going by the hardness he attempts to rock my hips against and should probably stop it given he was freaking shot in the chest.
He moves his mouth over mine, firm and demanding, groaning low in his throat. Fuck, he tastes so good and my hormones run rampant. I don’t want to stop.
Our kisses slow, and our breathing evens out. His hands travel over my curves, taking their time before he finds my face again. Sweeping my hair from my cheeks, the other one fists my shorts, and he grips the fabric between his fists and groans.
My hands are on his chest, his rapid breathing evident by the rise and fall when he suggests, “Let’s go to my room.”
I giggle. “Nope. Not happening, buddy. Your doctor said to take it easy. And I believe he specifically said sex shouldn’t even be tried.”
He shakes his head, his hooded eyes barely open as his gaze never leaves my chest. “Fuck the doctor.”
“That doctor saved your life, dude.”
“And now I need some tender loving care.” His hungry lips search my neck attempting to lure me in. “It’s been weeks.”
“You went two years without sex. No strenuous activity until your checkup in a month.”
His hands palm my breasts hastily. “Because I went two years without it… I shouldn’t have to go two weeks. Besides, you can just be gentle with me.”
“You’re going to overdo it.” I moan in response to his touch when his hand comes between my legs dancing over the nerve endings clad by denim. Drawing myself closer, letting him know it’s definitely more than okay. It’s perfect. I never want him to stop.
He needs this, and I want this.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tipping my head back to expose my skin for him. His stubble scratches against me, leaving shivers in its path and I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his rich scent. God, I missed him.
His breathing increases when my lips are on his neck, his head falling back, his hips raising up as he groans at the contact our hips make with one another.
Well fuck, now I’m dry humping him on the kitchen chair.
I can’t help it. I’m drowning in him, his scent, his kisses, his touch. My hands slip off his shoulders to his chest.
It’s then I have another reminder of that night. The bandage over the right side of his chest where he was shot. “I know I keep saying it, and I’m becoming redundant now, but I’m so sorry,” I say, gently running my fingers over the white gauze.
Red shakes his head. “Don’t be. I’m not. I saved you and now,” he whispers in my ear, “now you can make it up to me.”
“We can’t have sex, Red. It’s out of the question.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I go back to my chair, attempting to calm my breathing.
Red’s suddenly serious and stares at me. “Look at me, Lenny. Because I need to make sure you’re okay with this.” I look over at him and he watches me as he talks. “You said some things a few minutes ago and I think it’s time I do.” I nod because I knew this was coming. Naturally, he’d have more of a reaction once he thought about what I said. He searches my eyes for several seconds. Rubbing his fingertips along my neck, he moves them slowly and then releases a long, deep breath. “Back when Nevaeh died, I didn’t value my life very much,” Red tells me, tracing circles on my skin. “But things have changed. I don’t know how to handle it. Since I was shot, it’s been a rush of emotions even I don’t understand because I’ve had to depend on others for the first time in my life. You’ve had a hard life and it doesn’t just go away. You can’t fix everything that’s been done to you. Sometimes, just like an engine, there’s unrepairable damage. It doesn’t mean you can’t move on though, but I know this isn’t going to be perfect overnight. Like you said, it’s messy.”
“You’re right, it won’t be but I don’t want to be her replacement,” I tell him.
“You’re not,” he says immediately. “You know, when all this started with us, guilt consumed me for wanting you. Part of the guilt still exists. I was upset with myself for wanting someone other than the mother of my child. When I buried Nevaeh, I assumed I buried my heart with her. I convinced myself I wouldn’t love like that again.” I close my eyes at his words and when I open them, tears fall freely. “I can’t and won’t compare you to her or my love for either of you because it’s different. It has to be.” His brow pulls together as our eyes lock on one another. “I love you.”
As the significance of what he’s said to me sinks in, it takes me a moment to decipher my emotions. I can’t put into words what it is. My heart beats faster and slower at the same time, as if that’s possible.
Closing my eyes, his words warm my heart beyond belief. Red came to me, or maybe I found him at a time when I’d just poured myself a drink. A glass of Scotch if you will, the kind that burns so badly when you take a drink, but I knew there’d be relief in it. Red… he was a couple of ice cubes I stuck in there. Taking the edge off, he took me into a heady trance, letting the love course through me with each sip.
Looking at him now, emotions flood me. I’d rather die than let go of this with him. His love, bravery, passion for anything he does, I can’t live without that.
“I love you,” I tell him, meaning those three words more than anything I’ve ever said to him.
Taking my hand in his, he places a kiss in my palm, his smile widening before saying, “Now can we have sex?”
“Nope.”
MY NO POLICY on sex doesn’t last long. In fact, it’s like a ticking time bomb. I’m not sure the pain pills Red is on, but he is constantly having to put a pillow on his lap to conceal his erection. Probably doesn’t help I wear shorts a lot but hello, it’s still kinda sorta summer.
It’s now the middle of September and I’m still living out of my bag, shuffling from Red’s house to Tyler’s. I don’t want to move myself in, and Red hasn’t asked so I’m still waiting, though I sleep at his house nearly every night.
Last night was the first night Red slept in his bed in two months. He’s been sleeping in a recliner in the living room since he came home.
His first night in the bed, he was all hands on all night. I can’t blame him. It has been a long time since we’ve done anything, aside from me giving him blow jobs.
After I’ve taken Nova to school, I head straight back to the house because Red said he needed something. I walk through the front door and down the hall to see him sitting on his bed, naked.
“Come over here.” His voice is low, like a whisper of a dirty secret I desperately need to hear.
“You called and said you needed something.” I place my hands on my hips, knowing where this is going, a cold shiver spreading through me at the sight of him completely naked. “What do you need?”
“You,” he breathes as if he’s recalling the smoldering passion between the two of us, his eyes raking slowly up my body.
I step toward him and he wraps his arms around my waist. “I’m going to be late, Red,” I tell him as he’s kissing up my shoulder. I know where this is heading.
“It’s a good thing you know the boss.” His teeth drag over the sensitive skin o
f my hips as he kisses me, heat rippling under my skin.
“But do you think you’re ready for this?”
He nods and gently pulls me on the bed with him.
We glide together as his large hands snake around my back, his mouth eagerly seeking out mine once again.
He lays me out before him, his large hardworking hands roaming over me.
His eyes close, his need growing stronger when his weight sinks into mine. My legs open without hesitation, reacting to the high of being held against his strong body.
“Way too many clothes in the way here.” Drawing back, he takes my shirt and bra off, letting them fall to the floor next to the bed. “Don’t you dare try to stop me or say I’m not ready for this. I can’t stop any longer,” he practically growls. His hands go lower, resting on my hips, and then hooks the edges of my panties, each fingertip grazing me with just the slightest touch and then some pressure. “I’m tired of blow jobs.” I raise an eyebrow and he’s quick to say, “They’re amazing, but I need to be inside you. I can’t take this any longer.”
Bending down, his lips brush over my right breast and then my nipple, giving me a slow, deliberate kiss, then flicking his tongue over that same path of pebbled hardness.
“And you need this just as badly.”
I nod. “I do, I’m just—”
His fingertips silence me. Slowly, his hands move downward, skimming the length of my body. His fingertips brush my center, the touch exactly what I need. My lashes droop in sweet bliss.
Just before I think I might drown in his touch alone, the low gravel of his voice brings me back. “Did you miss me this way?” His eyes hold mine, waiting for my answer. He wants reassurance I want this too.
“So much,” I tell him, watching his face.
Once he has my panties off, his hands explore my thighs and then back to my hips.
A lurch of excitement courses through me knowing where this is going. His eagerness for it, the hungry rushed touches, the tender sounds from his heavy breathing, it thrills me even more, sends my heart and breathing soaring in anticipation.
He presses forward again, his hips rolling and I gasp at the contact of my bare center meeting his erection. My back arches, my hands gripping his sheets. “Jesus, Red….”
His weight presses into mine again. His movements are slow and deliberate, our lips moving together at a sensual pace. Guiding my hands to his back, I pull him close to me, savoring the mass of his hard, tight body forcing me further into the mattress. I thought I was doing okay with the no sex thing but now my body is telling me something else entirely. I fucking need him so badly.
The way he moves, his attention to my every curve, it’s different. All of it. He’s making love to me, or attempting to. It’s been so long since we’ve been together this way, I’m not sure how long we can keep this up. He’s giving me a piece of himself, but most of all, he’s giving me the chance to see the difference between letting someone take something, and giving it to them.
His breath dances over my shoulder, my name on his lips like some kind of prayer, and my heart soars so high it might never come back down. My eyes close and I arch my neck back into the pillow, giving him more of my skin, more of me in any way.
His hips jerk at my touch, his erection sliding eagerly between my folds and I want him inside, right now. My other hand grips his arm as he holds himself above me, his head bends forward so all I can see are the sharply defined edges of his shoulders.
“You want me, Lenny?”
My eyes open, and I stare into the darkness of his captivating brown eyes.
“Yes.”
He continues to glide between my wet center, the head of his cock hitting the most sensitive bundle of nerves and I’m ready to come.
“I do,” I practically beg, lifting my hips and chasing the need rising from deep within.
“No… that’s not what I want to hear.” He kisses me slowly and thoroughly, grinding into me, knowing he’s getting me off by his motions. “I want you to say you want me.”
“Make love to me,” I moan, threading my hand through his thick tousled hair and pulling his lips back to my neck. Those open-mouth kisses are exactly what I need, and the idea of him stopping sends my heart pounding. “But don’t stop this just yet. I missed your kisses.”
His answer is a groan against the sensitive skin, nipping with his teeth. He knows what I want, angling his hips at just the right motion, his cock pushing against my clit in the most delicious way.
He knows how to get me off. He’s gifted in that way, or maybe it’s just that it’s been so long since I felt anything but his hand between my legs. Now it’s his hardness, so warm and smooth as he grinds his hips into mine.
It’s only seconds maybe, because it’s been that long and my vision dims, until a scream rips through my throat as my orgasm crashes over me.
When I finish shaking, Red draws back, an arrogant smile touching the corners of his mouth as he reaches to our left for a condom. Without pulling away, he brings the foil to my lips. I bite the edge of the wrapper, and he twists it the opposite direction.
Reaching between us, he moves my legs farther apart, watching my face the entire time as he slips the condom on and enters me.
Shuddering at the sensation of him filling me, I bring my hands up around his neck, my breath expelling in a needy sigh.
So right.
His tormented grunt and the way his body shudders reminds me he wants this just as badly as me. I think he wants to go slowly, but those first few moments after he enters me were nothing like that.
“Fuck me,” I beg, only to have his hand raise from my shoulder to clasp over my mouth, his head shaking against my skin.
“Don’t talk dirty.” He moans as he flexes his hips, a shudder ripping through his body. “I can’t take that. Being buried deep inside your pussy is all I’ve thought about in the last fifty three days. It’s been so fucking long. So long… and I’m trying to slow down.”
I’m not surprised he knows exactly how many days it’s been, but I’m caught up with his enthusiasm, moving with him in any way I can, curving to his strong body. The way his hips rub and drag in all the right places, I’m close to my second orgasm. It’s amazing to me how easy it is in the hands of the right man.
“Goddamn it…” he pants, heavy words captured against my burning skin. “I missed you.” He’s grunting with each movement but his wince is enough to tell me he’s overexerting himself. “I missed you so fucking much,” he repeats, his hands curling around my shoulders, pulling me into his movements. “You’re so fucking tight I can’t take it.”
“Don’t talk dirty,” I remind him, smiling as our lips meet.
His hips move languidly for a while as I caress the length of his back and the tautness of his muscles. His body tenses at my touch, each movement slower than the next for fear that at any moment, this will be over. I never want it to end. I’ll be perfectly content having him right here in this bed, forever.
He keeps his eyes level with mine, and the pressure begins to build, a slow and sweet ecstasy swirling inside my lower stomach and I know I can get there again. Goose bumps shiver across my skin, the scorching heat of his kiss leaves me weak, rubbery, and sedated as the waves wash over me. I stare up at the ceiling as he rocks himself back and forth, him holding on as I’m letting go.
My fingertips tear into his concrete shoulders as I arch helplessly against him, moaning out his name in a desperate plea. “Reddington….”
He curses against my skin in response to my throaty call of his name, his body jerking in time with his release. I thread my fingers through his hair as we lay there.
“So good.” I kiss his neck.
“Kiss me,” he whispers, long lashes lowered, gasping for breath as his body continues to shake. “Just please fucking kiss me.”
When the tip of his tongue glides over the seam of mine, I open to him. His lips part over mine and I kiss him deeper, giving myself to him. I will
always give myself to him. I have to. Now more than ever.
Handling me with care as our breathing slows, he blows out a long breath and eases his body from mine. “Was that worth being late?”
I laugh, shaking my head as I look over at him. “I don’t know. Boss Man can be a real dick sometimes.”
Red once told me that I expect him to be the perfect guy. It was last week.
For days I contemplated what he meant by that. I was almost sorta pissed at him. Like he was accusing me of wanting something unattainable. How could someone like me, after everything I’ve been through, expect someone to be perfect?
I mean, fuck, look at Ben, and then take a look at Red. Clearly, I’m not one to be asking for greatness here, right?
Although, when I look back on my life, I can see the pattern of destruction that’s led me to this. The part where Red said I need perfection. It’s not his fault.
Growing up, there were times when I wished I had a different life and told myself that when I found it, it would be perfect. I’d dream about it even, having a family and a husband, all that.
See where I’m going with this?
I wanted perfect, whether I knew it or not.
I desperately need a happily ever after. Or my version of it. And that version includes a man built from steel and a girl with wild curls and the brightest blues.
I need to know there’s something in life that’s not evil. To know what it feels like to be touched by a man who is honest and loves me for me, not for what I can provide for him, or do for him.
Sometimes you need people on your side. You need friends, family, and people who care about you.
I have that now.
I was granted my divorce from Ben, about two days before he was sentenced for attempted murder and aggravated assault. Because of his head injury, his sentences was delayed for a while. I wasn’t happy when the verdict came out because really, twelve years in prison was a fucking slap in Red’s face for the pain we’ve all been through.