Falling (Fading Series)

by E. K. Blair

  But suddenly, I don’t know if I can. I want to. I’ve wanted to since I met her, but now . . . now I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to do with her. I’m not sure if she sees my panic when she takes my hand in hers and places it over her breast, urging quietly, “Just touch me.”

  Her hand trembles against mine, and if this does happen, I can’t have her feeling like this. So I do everything I can to push my anxiety away to focus on making sure she’s relaxed. She’s been taken advantage of by the two people before me, and I want to make this perfect for her.

  I lower myself and kiss her. I take my time and really kiss her. Pressing my lips slowly into hers, grazing my tongue along her lip, and sealing my mouth with hers. My hand slides up from her breast and underneath the strap on her shoulder. As I move my hand down her arm, I take the strap with it, slipping it off, feeling the tension in the elastic releasing.

  She’s never let me see her naked. The closest, a bra and my boxers. So when I begin to reach around her, my anticipation is overwhelming. But then, in a moment, she nervously mutters, “I’m scared. I’ve never . . .”

  “It’s just you and me,” I tell her. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

  She faintly nods, and when I unclasp the hooks behind her back, she crosses her arm over her chest. Laying my hand over hers, I lift it up and drop her bra to the floor. I look at her. I’ve always wanted to but she’s always been too shy. Then my eyes stop on a serrated, crescent scar on her left breast, and what I think it might be is confirmed when she shamefully bares, “He bit me.”

  I won’t let that piece of shit filter into this moment. She’s embarrassed, and there’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna let that bastard claim another piece of her. Even with this scar, he can’t take away from how gorgeous she is.

  Leaning down, I kiss her scar and breathe into her skin, “God, you’re perfect.”

  I take my kisses and drop them down her stomach before sitting back on my heels to remind her that she isn’t alone. I bring her hand to my ribs and over my scar. We don’t speak. There’s no need. She gets it when she brushes her thumb across the jagged line and then pulls me down to her, hands trussed in my hair.

  The feel of her naked body against my chest is gratifying beyond words. With no barriers, I run my tongue up the smooth skin of her breast and slowly across her pert nipple before taking her into my mouth. The pressure of her fingertips pressing into my shoulders strengthens when my hands find themselves at the band of her shorts. She lifts her hips when I begin to remove her boxers and panties at the same time. God, every inch of her is stunning, and I suddenly feel undeserving to have this girl who is far above what I could have ever imagined for myself.

  She watches as I slip off my pants and then lower myself back to her, grabbing the sheets and covering us up. I lie here naked with her and have never felt so connected. She’s warm against me, but as I trail my hands slowly along her soft skin, I can feel her trembling.

  “Babe, you’re shaking.”

  “What if I can’t do this?” she says with an uneven voice, worry etched in the lines of her face.

  “Then we stop.”

  Her eyes fall shut, and I assure her, “We’ll move as slow as you need. You just tell me when to stop.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she says, opening her eyes.

  She slides her arms around me and draws my body back to hers as she kisses me, caressing her lips with mine, taking her time as she runs her hands along my chest and down my abdomen, making my muscles cinch at the touch. Her lips drag along my neck and down my shoulder while I gently knead her supple breast in my hand and kiss her exposed neck. When my mouth finds her hardened nipple again, I roll my tongue over it and begin to gently suck, her body writhing in response.

  “Ryan.” The sound of my name on her lips is sexy as hell, and I need her to tell me again before we move any further, so I ask, “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  My anxiety is back. The rush of emotions swarms in my chest as I try to stay calm for her, but I just need to hear it. “Tell me that you want this, that you want me.”

  “I want you to make love to me,” she says with her eyes pinned to mine.

  I take a moment to slip on protection before I reach down and slowly begin to guide myself inside of her, but as soon as I touch her, she locks up on me. Pulling myself back, I look down to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

  “Are you okay?”

  Holding on to my shoulders, she nods. “Yeah.”

  I’ve never been so scared to have sex, but I know with her, that’s not what this is. I’ve never been with a woman like this before. I know I’m gonna make love with her, and I want to do everything possible to make this perfect. ‘Cause for the first time in my life, this isn’t about me—it’s about her. So when I continue to push myself inside of her, I can feel every bit of how tense she is. It takes me a while, but when I’m finally inside of her, the feeling is almost too much for me. My head drops to her neck as I moan, “Fuck, you feel so good, babe,” unable to keep it in.

  I hold myself still while her thighs tremble as she clenches them against my hips. I wrap my hands around her head and give her time to relax. When I pull my head back, I immediately feel like shit when I see her eyes clamped shut with tears falling down her temples.

  “Open your eyes, Candace. Look at me,” I tell her, concerned about what she’s seeing if she isn’t seeing me.

  “Don’t make me look,” she pleads, but I need her to. I need her to not be scared of this. To not let her mind drift to that alley. To show her that this can be something amazing.

  “Baby, please open your eyes. I need you here with me. It’s only me.”

  It takes her a second, but she eventually opens them and focuses on me. When I feel her body soften against mine, I gradually begin to move. Being this close with her—inside of her—I never want this to end. I can’t even imagine wanting to be selfish with her, so I move slowly, needing this closeness to last. To make her see this for what it is—love.

  Banding my arms around her, she clings to me, and the sounds of pleasure coming out of her are all I hear. Sighs, breaths, quiet moans. They turn me on even more as our bodies begin to work together, moving in a way I know I’ll always want with her.

  “God, I love you,” I release on a ragged exhale and slide deeper inside of her.

  Moving to kiss me, she mumbles over my lips, “I love you.”

  I notice her hands are still clenching my shoulders, so I reach up and take one of her hands in mine, lacing my fingers with hers, pressing our hands into the mattress. She begins to sway her hips up to mine as she starts moving with me. Her body is so tight around me that it takes a lot for me to hang on and not let go. I watch her beneath me, her body against mine, completely exposed to me, and I don’t think I could fall any more deeply in love with her. I’m not sure how that would even be possible.

  We take our time with each other, making love, lingering in the moment. When she closes her eyes, she constricts her legs to my hips, and I know she’s close. I also know that she’s never had this before.

  “Relax, babe,” I tell her because I want her to feel every piece of what I’m about to give her.

  She has her hand braced tightly around the back of my neck when her breathing falters. I kiss her, simply resting my lips on hers, as I continue to ease myself in and out of her, feeling every part of her around me. Her hand jerks in mine, and I lift my head to tell her, “Open your eyes. Stay with me,” wanting to be sure that I’m all she sees.

  Locking her eyes with mine, her body is damp with a sheen of sweat, and I give in to the intensity that has been building inside of me when I hear her let out a whimper. It doesn’t take me long to get to where she is, so when I say, “Baby, let go for me,” her hips buckle, and she clamps her hand strongly around mine as I watch her lose herself, face flushed, panting out soft moans. I can’t hold on when I feel her walls tighten and spasm around me. Dropping my h
ead onto hers, I moan her name as I come hard, feeling the impassioned throbs with my release, giving myself in a way I didn’t know was possible for me.

  We lie here, bodies pressed together, breathing labored, as we both come down. When I finally lift my heavy head to look at her, the tears are back. Afraid that this has had some negative effect on her, I ask in utter worry, “God, baby, what’s wrong?” as I wipe her tears.

  She takes a slow moment before giving me words that almost break me.

  “Being with you . . . that’s all I want.”

  This is a lot. My emotions are all over the place, but they all lie within her heart. I keep myself inside of her, never wanting to leave, and when I lay my head against hers, I quietly confess, “You’re the only one I’ve ever done that with. You’re the only one I’ve ever made love to.”

  I didn’t think there was anything I could give her that would be new, untouched, and only hers—until now. She’s the only one that will ever have me like this. And finally experiencing sex in this way, I’ll never want it any other way.

  Watching her sleep right now, hair draped over the pillow, face soft, lips slightly parted—she’s beautiful. I could stare at her for hours when she’s this peaceful, but I know she’s going to wake soon, so I go ahead and slip quietly out of bed and head into the closet. I knew I wouldn’t give her the necklace on her birthday. She probably would have resisted, so that’s why I held off. But we’re alone now, and it’s not her birthday anymore.

  I take the necklace out of its box and go into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I set it in between the two sinks and then brush my teeth before I get back into bed. Wrapping myself around her, my movements start to wake her, so I feign sleep as she begins to stir awake. I lie there, still, as she slides out from under my arm, and I can hear her close the bathroom door a few seconds later. I roll over and wait for her to come out. Listening to the water run, I wonder if the gift is going to irritate her when she made it perfectly clear she didn’t want me to get her anything.

  The door opens, and Candace walks out with a sly grin, holding the necklace up in front of her.

  “What’s this?” she questions, knowing very well what it is, but I play into her and say, “Well, it’s definitely not a birthday gift, because that was two days ago.”

  Her laughter is a relief when she hops up into bed and hands me the necklace to put on her.

  “I love it,” she says as I clasp it on, and she doesn’t need to say anything else about it. She’s read the scribed words. She’s accepted it without hesitation. That’s all I wanted.

  Crawling over her as she lies on her back, I drop kisses along the chain. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  “Mmmm,” she hums.

  “You were amazing last night,” I tell her when I start removing her clothes because I need her again. We were both so cautious last night, and now, seeing her naked and having her calm, I want to give this to her again, and she lets me.

  As we remain wrapped up in each other after making love, I stroke my hand through her hair lazily, enjoying her as our breathing slows back down.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She’s in a tranquil state when she responds with a simple, “Happy.”

  That one word makes me smile. That’s all I ever want her to be—happy. I begin to laugh when I think about the other surprise I have for her.

  “What’s so funny?” she asks with a grin of her own.

  “I have something else for you.”

  “Besides the necklace?”

  “Besides the necklace,” I say.

  She squints her eyes at me, and I defend, “I promise, you’re gonna like this better. It’s not a trinket.”

  That smile of hers grows and she sits up, clutching the sheet to keep herself covered, and her modesty is adorable. Leaning over, I open the drawer to my nightstand and then hand it over to her.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she says as she keeps her eyes on the Hop N Bounce box, which holds the deflated ball.

  “I have a pump out in the garage if you wanna take it for a spin around the living room,” I tease.

  Setting the box down on the bed, she crawls to me, sheet still clung around her, and gives me a kiss.

  “You’ll never know how much I love you.”

  After spending most of the morning in bed with Candace, I decided to run into work so that I can take the night off. Candace called Jase and went to spend the afternoon with him and Mark. I told her I’d be back at the loft around six tonight, but that quickly changed when one of our vendors stopped by today with a shipment only to inform me that the bar is now on COD with them. When I started digging through the backlogged bills, I discovered that Michael has been missing payments.

  This is the second time this guy has fucked up, and I’m done. Walking into his office, the place is a disorganized disaster. Digging through his files, I find the ones that I need, and I spend the next few hours scouring through all of our various vendors’ invoices, checking them against the bank statements, and then having Mel double-check the inventory.

  I can’t be having things fall through the cracks like this. I need to seriously start thinking about what’s gonna happen to this bar if I wind up moving after Candace is done with school, but leaving it in Michael’s hands isn’t gonna happen. I need someone I can trust.

  “Max,” I call out while Mel and I are buried behind the bar as I help her check the last shipment.

  “Yeah, boss.”

  “Get Michael on the phone. Tell him to get his ass up here,” I shout over the band. I’ve been so busy, I didn’t even realize how late it is or that Mark is here with the guys, but they’re already on stage playing.

  “Ryan!” Max shouts, and the chaos around me right now is giving me a headache.

  “Did you get ahold of him?”

  “Yeah, he’s on his way, but Candace is on the phone. Line two,” he says.

  Making my way through the crowd, I run upstairs to take the call in my office where it’s quiet.

  “Babe, hey.”

  “Hey, I didn’t think you were going to be working this late,” she says, and I feel bad that I’m still stuck up here when all I want is to be home.

  I explain everything to her, stressed about the whole situation, as she listens and then let her know that I’ll be heading home in a bit. Hanging up the phone, I start getting my things together, and about five minutes later, Michael walks into my office.

  “Shit, that was fast,” I say.

  “I was on my way up here when Max called. What’s up? You leaving?” he asks as he stands there watching me.

  “Yeah, but we need to talk,” I say as I take a seat, and he follows suit. “I found out today that invoices haven’t been getting paid. Never, in the six years I’ve owned this place, have we missed a payment, and now we’re on COD with one of our vendors.”

  “Ryan—”

  “Look,” I say, interrupting him. “I’m gonna cut to the chase. This bar is my livelihood, and when shit starts going wrong, then that livelihood is compromised. Feelings aside, I gotta let you go, man. I can’t trust you to handle things up here when I’m not around, and that’s a problem for me.”

  “Ryan, man. Come on.”

  “Look, my ass is tired. Been up here all day trying to fix your mistakes, and I’m ready to go home,” I tell him as I grab my coat and leave. My stress is through the roof, and I don’t have time to dick around with this guy.

  I find Max when I get downstairs.

  “Hey, I need to talk to you.”

  “What’s going on?” he questions as we step into the back storage room.

  “I just fired Michael, so I want you to go up there and oversee him as he packs his shit up. Make sure we get his keys and everything—”

  “Hey, I got it covered. No worries.”

  “Thanks. I’m getting the hell out of here. I’ll be back in the morning. There’s a stack of papers on top of my filing cabinet. Mak
e sure he signs them before he leaves.”

  “Got it.”

  I don’t waste any more time, knowing that Max will handle the Michael situation, and I head home to my girl.

  Candace and I camped out downstairs with some wine and an old movie when I got home last night. We hadn’t done that in a while, so it was a perfect way to end the stressful day. I did manage to talk to her about trying to come to the bar again. I wasn’t sure if I was pushing too much, but I figured this morning would be a good time since it would only be the two of us. She took me by surprise when she said she would try. I know this isn’t easy for her, and while I’m in the kitchen fixing her a coffee to take with us, I watch her sitting on the couch, wringing her hands together. She’s a nervous wreck. I walk over and hand her the coffee, telling her, “Babe, you don’t have to do this if it’s causing you this much stress.”

  “I told you that I would try, so . . . I’ll try.”

  Holding my hand out, she takes it and we head to the bar. The morning is cold and the sky is dark with cloud cover. Candace is silent, and I keep my hand on her knee as I pull up and park along the curb in front of the building like I promised her.

  When I open her door, she finally snaps out of her zoned-out state and holds my hand as I help her out. We walk inside, and I show her around before I take her back to the stairs.

  “My office is up here,” I tell her as I lead her up.

  I keep my hold on her hand when I walk into Michael’s office to grab the papers I need. Taking a few steps into his office, she jerks around, stumbling over her feet and into me.

  “Babe?”

  “I want to go,” she says with her head down, and as I reach around her to quickly grab the file, I see what she saw and kick myself for not thinking beforehand that Michael’s office overlooks the back lot.

  I tuck her under my arm as I quickly pull her out and walk her down the hall to my office, tossing the file on my desk, and turning to hold her.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” I say as she shakes under my arms—panicked.