Undeniably You

by Jewel E. Ann

  He hands me my sandwich and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t trade a single second of your ‘crazy’ for a lifetime of sanity.”

  I take a bite of my sandwich and watch the waves crash into the shore. Lautner says the most incredible things with the casualness of ordering a coffee.

  “What if you never find crazy again?” I glance over at him.

  “What if a complete stranger never jumps into your pool naked?” He takes a bite of his sandwich.

  I giggle. “What if you never get another drunken striptease?”

  Now he laughs. “What if you never eat another cherry-almond galette?”

  I can’t help but smile, looking to the infinity of the ocean.

  What if I never see the world in blue irises?

  “Yeah … what if …” I whisper.

  We eat the rest of our lunch to the soothing white noise of the breaking waves. There are so many unspoken words between us. Sharing them will not change anything, it will only cause more pain. I believe the emotions between us are magnified because they are so new. Time will fade old memories and new ones will replace them. I never imagined not feeling the pain of my mom’s death weighing heavy on my heart, but it doesn’t anymore. There is and always will be an emptiness inside me that will never be filled, but it doesn’t hurt. There’s a layer of scar tissue that has numbed the pain. Lautner is leaving his own mark on my heart. It too will become a painless reminder of a special person who passed through my life.

  He pulls me between his legs and I rest my back against his chest. “Had you not gotten injured would you still be playing?” I ask, focusing on his scar.

  “I don’t know … maybe.”

  “Do you ever regret not continuing to play? I mean, a lot of players get injured but continue playing.”

  He folds his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. “Sometimes when I go to games or watch it on TV I miss it, but I can’t say I regret it. A lot of people thought I was scared to play even after my injury healed, but the truth is I was more scared to not play. It was the one thing I was really good at and I loved playing. It was all I knew.”

  “How’d you know you were making the right decision?”

  “I didn’t … I still don’t. It’s hard to let go of what you love and it’s even harder to move on. But not looking back is the greatest challenge.” He kisses my head, again. The strongest arms I have ever known embrace me—all of me. He speaks to me with touch and holds me in the space between words.

  If this isn’t love, then it doesn’t exist.

  We walk a ways up the beach holding hands and sharing the happier moments of our childhoods. No surprise, a lot of Lautner’s childhood revolved around sports. He played just about every sport but also taught himself how to play the guitar. Just when I thought Lautner couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he had to add sexy hunk with a guitar to my already scorching hot visual of him that I carry around in my head.

  “I expect a private performance before I leave.”

  He slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “I’ll have to check my concert schedule.”

  I pinch his hard glutes. “Okay, tell me more. Were you the perfect boy scout—polite, charming, kind?”

  He’s quiet so I’m not sure he heard me. Glancing sideways, I notice him gritting his teeth, lips pressed tight.

  He clears his throat. “Not all the time. Looking back, I’d have to say there were a few things I did or participated in that might not look good on a résumé.”

  My favorite eyes are avoiding me, making him look the guilty part. “Such as?”

  “In the eighth grade my friends and I started a club.” He pauses.

  “What kind of club?”

  The chuckle that escapes him suggests it wasn’t a chess club.

  “A jock club. The treehouse in my backyard was our clubhouse. Although, we were really too big by that age to be squeezing into that thing. It’s a miracle it didn’t crash to the ground under our weight. Anyway, we discussed important sports matters.”

  “Oh, I get it. That was the age you and your buddies thought you needed to start wearing protective gear—jocks and cups. But you didn’t have the courage to ask your parents to buy them, so you got together everyday after school and whittled little penis cups out of driftwood and finger-knitted jockstraps out of scrap yarn you stole from your mom’s sewing room—” I squeal as he grabs me and tosses me over his shoulder potato-sack style.

  “Little penis cups?” He growls, smacking my barely-covered ass.

  “Stop! Let me down!”

  Inch by agonizing inch, he lets my body slide down the front of his, stopping when our eyes meet. I’m waiting for his lips to torment mine or a snarky comment back, but he’s just shaking his head with a tight grin.

  I’m dropped to my feet.

  “As I was saying…” he interlaces our fingers and pulls me back in the direction of our stuff “…our Jock Club discussed girls. Specifically those who planned on trying out for freshman cheerleading. We picked our favorite candidates based on looks, popularity, and bounceability.”

  “Bounceability? As in how high they could jump?”

  He smiles and it’s a big one, but I can’t define it.

  “As in boob size.”

  Never mind. I just defined it. It’s an I-was-a-horny-perverted-teenager-and-I’m-still-kind-of-proud-of-it smile.

  “We called our rating system The Bounce Factor. A five causing black eyes and a one not even requiring a training bra.”

  So much for Saint Lautner.

  I don’t want to laugh—degrading women, making young girls self conscious, and all that—but I can’t hold it in. It’s too damn funny.

  “You’re laughing?” he says in a slow voice filled with incredulity.

  “I know … I know, I should be offended.” I shake my head and catch my breath. “Maybe if I hadn’t been such a tomboy at that age I would be more offended. If there’s such a thing as the opposite of a cheerleader, then that was me.”

  Lautner tugs at my ponytail. “Do tell, it’s my turn to get the dirt on you.”

  “Dirt is right. During my short-haired tomboy phase, I had an obsession with digging through the dirt behind our house. I’m pretty sure Fear Factor stole my idea a year later. A few kids in the neighborhood, mostly boys, and I played our own version. I’ve eaten one of about every species of bug there is in Northern Illinois, along with a few rabbit turds and a frog’s eye.”

  His scrunched face is hilarious.

  I nod, pointing a finger at my mouth. “Oh yeah, buddy. That’s right. You’ve kissed this mouth—turds, frog eyes, and insects.”

  “Nasty … there’s no other word.” He closes his eyes and does a quick skin-crawling shiver.

  We’ve reached our beach area again.

  “We should get back. I have some research to do and your favorite dog is going to want dinner.” Lautner pulls me into his chest. The water foams around our feet.

  “A quick dip first?” I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and make a pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes.

  “It’s a little cooler today. You’re going to be cold when we get out.”

  I shrug and pull him toward the water.

  “Eek!” I squeal as the cool tide flows over my shoulders.

  Lautner pulls me into him and we share a deep kiss.

  “Turds, frog eyes, and insects,” I mumble against his lips.

  “Shut up.”

  He grabs my ass and I wrap my legs around him. The feel of his arousal beneath his trunks has me wanting more. With adept thumbs, he eases the cups of my top over my breasts, his palms rubbing over my nipples. This is by far the sexiest thing I have ever done. My fear is that Lautner’s analytical brain is going to kick in and steal the moment. I squeeze him tight, working myself against his cock in hopes of preventing the invasion of any rational thinking on his part or mine. He walks us closer to the beach, and I feel a pang of disappointment as he sets me down
in water up to my knees. I start to cover my breasts back up.

  “Uh, uh, uh …” He shakes his head and I want to scream with elation as I watch him inch his swim trunks down just past his hips. Falling to his knees in the shallow water, he sits back on his heels and tugs me onto his lap. There’s no one around, but the fact that someone could appear over the grassy knoll has me feeling naughty. The moment is sexy and exhilarating.

  His mouth covers one breast and his hand kneads the other. Clutching his hair, I tug him closer, moving one hand down to his erection and stroking it until he moans against my breast. My breath catches as he bites my nipple. Reaching between us, he pulls my bottoms to the side. I dig my feet in the sand and push up just enough to maneuver his firm cock between my legs, sinking onto him.

  “Oh God.” As he fills me, I’m transported to a whole new level of paradise.

  His hands grip my hips and his mouth takes mine as I begin to move up and down on him. For a slight moment my mind wanders to sharks that are probably making their way closer to shore with dusk approaching.

  “Ahh!” I yell as Lautner thrusts up into me. Visions of sharks vanish in an instant as I start to feel the slow building of my orgasm. We’re both working up to a fast pace as water sloshes against my back.

  “Harder!” I cry, throwing my head back, feeling so close.

  “Christ, Sydney!” He growls with one final surge into me and we both climax at the same time.

  Our hips make a few slow deep circles riding out every last sensation. I feel the ocean in me and all around me. His head collapses against my chest, and I rest my cheek on the top of his head.

  “That was …” I breathe out in labored exhaustion.

  “Fucking amazing,” Lautner finishes.

  “So much for avoiding strenuous exercise.” I laugh and he does too.

  *

  I fall asleep on the way home to the soothing strokes of Lautner’s fingertips along my forearm.

  “I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispers. I hear his door close and my eyes fight to open. I don’t recognize where we are, but it looks like the parking lot of an apartment building. Lautner goes in the bottom door, but I lose him from there. He returns carrying a duffle bag in one hand and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he opens the driver’s door.

  “Staying with you until you leave. I packed enough for a few nights anyway.” He buckles up and backs out. “I’m still not going to be able to see you that much with my long hours, but even just crawling in bed with your sleeping body is more than I’ve had this past week.”

  I’m thrilled, completely elated.

  “Unless you don’t want me to stay?” he questions as we pull out of the parking lot.

  I shrug. “Whatever. You’re not the worst thing to wake up to. I suppose you can stay … if you want.”

  “You suck at nonchalance, baby. But that’s okay. I’ll play it your way. Oh please, Sydney. Let me stay with you and put my mouth where you like it best until you’re screaming my name, making Swarley howl, and the neighbors alert the authorities.”

  I punch him in the arm. “Jeez, I can’t believe I fell for the whole, blood donating-child loving-marine life preservationist-flower sending act. I thought you were a good guy. But now I think you’re just like every other arrogant guy.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I am a good guy … with a bad boy side too. You know you love it.”

  I really do, but I’ll be damned if I ever openly admit it. There’s nothing sexier than a guy who thinks he has something to prove.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  June 25th, 2010

  Pure bliss. There’s just no other way to describe the past week. Lautner has been working long hours, but he always ends up next to me in bed. I know he’s silently counting down the days, as am I. We no longer speak of the end, but the air around us keeps getting thicker making it harder to breathe as each day passes. It doesn’t matter what insane hour Lautner arrives. We take each other in a frenzied passion. Words are not needed. The inevitable is felt in bruising kisses, desperate hands, insatiable stamina, pleading moans, and the way our bodies stay entwined for hours.

  Seven days. I’ve thought about staying—a lot. It’s really all I’ve been thinking about. But at twenty-three I still can’t choose a handbag without making a dozen trips to the mall. Why the hell would it make sense for me to think I’ve found the love of my life in less than a month?

  That’s easy. He sucks me in, bleeds my sanity, arrests my heart, and bares my soul. And that’s just with his eyes. Fucking Medusa eyes.

  There’s a knock at the door and Swarley goes crazy. His boredom with me is apparent, and he can’t help the exuberance he feels at the prospect of someone—anyone—more interesting than me walking through the front door. Lautner has been spoiling him with treats from the dog bakery. I can’t complain. When Swarley’s preoccupied with a delectable goodie, he gives us more privacy. It doesn’t bother Lautner at all, but Swarley sits by the bed and cries when we’re having sex. He’s made me lose two impending orgasms in the past week. Both of which Lautner heroically chased after and captured for me after kicking Swarley out of the bedroom. I want to believe Lautner’s ability to make me come in under ten seconds is due to his extensive studies in human anatomy and not years of sexual experience.

  Dream on, Syd! He was a freakin’ Heisman Trophy candidate.

  “Oh my God! What are you doing here?” I squeal in shock embracing Avery.

  She attempts to hug me back with her huge purse hanging from one shoulder and an overnight tote slung over the other. “Surprise!”

  “Why didn’t you call?” I ask, stepping back so she can come in.

  “Kinda would have ruined the surprise. Don’t you think? Yeah, yeah, I see you Swarley.” She drops her bags and bends down to pet the pestering pooch.

  “How sweet, you came to say goodbye again before I leave next week.” My voice is nauseously sweet and I’m working overtime batting my lashes.

  Avery squints at me then rolls her eyes. “Sure, that too.”

  “Caden’s got you all tied up, huh?”

  She smirks. “Figuratively and literally.”

  “TMI … thanks for the visual.” I grunt and walk to the kitchen. “Does he know you’re here, or are you going to just show up at his door too?”

  “Bingo. I found a job in San Francisco, Sam. I haven’t taken it yet, but I think after this weekend I just might.”

  “What happened to ‘I will die in L.A.?’”

  “What can I say? I’ve grown up.” She pulls her shoulders back like better posture will drive home her point.

  “You’re twenty-one. Six months ago you were carrying around a fake ID, but now you’ve grown up?”

  “So how’s Dr. Sexy?”

  “Nice diversion, Ave. Dr. Sullivan is fine.”

  I hand her a glass of iced tea. “Fine or fine?”

  The shit-eating grin I’m trying to hide wins over. “Fine … very, very F. I. N. E.”

  “I bet he’s a fucking machine in bed. Am I right?”

  “Avery! Watch your mouth. I thought you were here to see Caden?”

  She laughs. “I am. But Jesus, Sam. Lautner is an Adonis and those eyes …”

  “Fucking Medusa eyes,” I finish with a blank stare into my glass.

  Avery giggles. “Nice description.”

  “Mmm … so when are you going to surprise Caden?”

  “Soon. He only works until noon on Fridays. But I wanted to see you first.”

  “Oh really?” I question in disbelief.

  “Really.” She stands and saunters into the foyer, grabs her bag, and heads upstairs. “And I need to freshen up and change into something sexier after my long drive.”

  Of course she does.

  *

  It’s a picturesque Friday so I pack up my new four-legged friend for a drive to take some photos. Redwoods from every possible angle. I stick to
the flora because Swarley is not a photographer’s best asset when trying to capture wildlife. I love playing with the light and different filters. It’s easy to get lost in the lens when I’m surrounded by such marvels of nature.

  I take a picture with my phone of me hugging a tree and send it to Lautner. He’s a little treehuggerish so I think he’ll get it.

  Thinking of you!

  After loading up Swarley and my camera bag “In Your Eyes” chimes. “Hey, you didn’t have to call me.”

  “I’m grabbing a quick lunch. I like the picture and the naughty innuendo.” Lautner’s voice is low and sexy.

  “Naughty innuendo? What are you talking about? It meant treehugger.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, I suppose it could mean that too, but I like my interpretation better.”

  “Which is?” I fasten my seat belt and start the car.

  “You miss my big wood.”

  “Oh my God! And they let you work with children? You’re such a pervert.”

  “So you don’t miss my big wood?”

  “Wha—where are you? Are people hearing you? I’m embarrassed for you!” I sigh.

  “Relax, I’m tucked back in the corner of the cafeteria by myself. I have about five minutes so let’s continue. What are you wearing?”

  “What do you mean what am I—jeez, I am not having phone sex with you while you’re at work and I’m in the car with Swarley.”

  “Suit yourself, but just remember, you started it, Syd.”

  “Ugh! I’m hanging up now, bye.”

  “Sydney?”

  “Yeah?”

  There’s a pause of silence. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Kill me now.

  “I’ll see you later,” I whisper and press End.

  It’s late afternoon, I have my photo fix for the day, and Swarley is ready for a nap. Pulling into the drive, I’m surprised to see Avery’s white Honda Pilot. I proceed with caution into the house, hoping I don’t come across a naked porn film by the pool starring her and Caden. I’m relieved when I see Ave in a lounge chair by the pool—clothed. Something is off. She’s not in her suit and she’s drinking beer which she only drinks when she’s pissed because it won’t cause her to vomit quite so quick.