by Tiffani Lynn
“I see Paulina got Phyllis and Maryann’s smile.”
Wes’s voice softens. “Yeah, it’s my favorite of her features.”
After that conversation dies down a little bit, we finish eating quietly. I wonder what’s going through his mind. This is probably the first time I’ve thought of all the things I’ve probably missed in his life. After Wes and I split, his mom and sister called and left messages for me for a long time. Always saying they were just checking on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to call them back. Probably because I would rethink letting go of Wes if I talked to them. Irrational was practically my middle name for the first two or three years after Darrian died.
When dinner is over, we clean up and move to the living room, where I pass him the remote so he can choose what we watch and he turns on my Friends DVD. He must remember everything.
After two episodes, I scoot forward from my corner of the couch. “I’m headed up to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“Ok, sweetheart. I’m gonna crash right here. Yell if you need me.”
“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be okay. You can head home.” I see him flinch, but he covers it up quickly.
“I don’t want to fight my way back through the reporters to get to you tomorrow. I’ll sleep here on the couch. No big deal.”
“I have a guest room you can sleep in. Probably better than that old couch.”
The look that passes over his face is one I can’t decipher.
“I always loved this couch. I’m cool. Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep.”
I nod and make my way up the stairs with a weird feeling in my stomach, leaving him down here while I climb into our old bed. It’s at least another hour before I fall asleep. Just knowing he’s under my roof gives me both comfort and distress. It’s easy to forget the things that made us work when he’s not in front of me, showing me. Right now, I can’t seem to remember a single reason why I was hell-bent on ending things.
Ten
Wes
I wasn’t lying when I said I loved this couch. I always have. I spent a lot of Sunday afternoons sprawled on it watching football while she worked when I wasn’t deployed. My current problem is that I didn’t want to sleep down the hall from her in the guest room. I wanted to be curled up next to her in what used to be our bed. It would have been pure torture to sleep down the hall. I fall asleep after a little while, but my sleep is light, in that purgatory of sleep places that is almost all the way out and almost awake but not quite either. So when I hear Jess let out a bloodcurdling scream, it only takes a second to react. I’m off that couch and up those stairs in seconds. When I reach her room, I realize she has a bright night-light on, so I can see almost everything. Her arms are flailing, her legs are kicking, and she’s fighting someone in her dreams. I sigh, relieved that nobody slipped in when I was half-asleep.
“Jess,” I call as I approach cautiously. “Jessica. Wake up. It’s a dream. Wake up!” She continues her fight, crying out and half calling for help. “Come on, Jess! Wake up!” She finally stops thrashing and sits straight up.
“Jess, it’s Wes. You’re dreaming. I’m here, you’re okay. Just a dream,” I whisper as I sit on the edge of the bed and push her sweaty hair away from her face. “What was that about?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
I want to ask when she started sleeping with a night-light because she used to relish the complete dark when she slept, but I don’t. Her wild eyes scan the room as her chest heaves like she’s been running.
“Talk to me. What’s going on? What was your dream about?” I try to prod her gently.
“I can’t. I can’t. I’m so… It’s too much.” The tears run down her face, something I can’t stand to see. I climb over her, lie down and pull her on top of me in our usual starfish style. She doesn’t resist; instead she curls around me and holds tight. Doing my best to soothe her, my hands run up and down her back. I can feel her tears pool on my bare chest, but I don’t move to do anything about it. We stay like that for probably close to half an hour. Her shaking slowly ceases and her muscles begin to relax.
“What was that dream about?”
“I can’t talk about it. It was so real.”
“I had horrific nightmares when I came back from Afghanistan the last time. They didn’t go away until I started talking about them.”
She tenses a little. “Who did you talk to about them?”
“Dave.”
“Who is Dave?”
“My counselor.”
“I can’t even imagine you going to a counselor. You never did have much to say.” She sniffles.
“Some things change.”
“What were your dreams about?”
My hands pause in the middle of her back and I hold her a little tighter. “That last year in Afghanistan, a lot of guys around me died. Some friends, some just guys that were in my platoon. I actually saw a lot of them die and it was just too much.”
Her voice is soft and quiet. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.”
“I’m glad you can’t imagine that. I wish no one ever had to live through that. It stays with you the rest of your life.”
Her voice is quiet and timid when she speaks this time. “I dream that I’m in the room when that guy hurts Darrien. I’m always trying to get him away from her and it never works.”
“Oh, God, sweetheart. It’s no wonder you’re so freaked out. There were a lot of nights I couldn’t sleep at all because I would dream of Darrien yelling out for help and I couldn’t get to her.”
She clamps on to me again. “She loved you so much. She thought you hung the moon.”
“I loved her too. Still do. That never goes away.”
“How is it that I’ve lived for five years without her? Sometimes I wish it were me that sick asshole killed.”
Squeezing tighter as my heart cliches at her words, I whisper, “Don’t ever say that. I know you would have traded places so she could have lived. You’re a good sister, always were, but, God, you can’t say that. A world without you in it… I can’t even think of that.”
“Until this week, I haven’t been in your life for years. It wouldn’t make a difference.”
“You have no idea. Just because you didn’t see me, doesn’t mean I wasn’t around.”
She props up and her eyes find mine. “I know you mowed my grass and shoveled my driveway and sidewalk.”
“Sometimes on my days off, I’d ride over and watch you walk from your car into work. I wasn’t trying to be a creeper, but I just needed to see you.”
“Why? Things were so bad between us.”
I tuck her hair behind her ear and run my thumb down her cheek, loving how smooth her skin is. “We were both crazy with grief and pain, dealing with it in the worst ways, but I never, not for one minute, stopped loving you.”
“Wes…”
Sensing this is my chance, I rise enough to brush my lips against hers, relishing the moment. When I rest my head on my pillow again, her eyes open and flutter. “Wes…” she starts and scoots up my body, her lips hovering close to mine. My heart begins to thump in my chest. I can’t believe how close she is. The only wish I’ve had during the years we’ve been apart was to have her wrapped in my arms again with no plan to be apart, so I don’t waste the moment. I close the space between us. As soon as our lips meet this time, I slip my tongue between her lips and tease hers. When they touch, l can feel her body come alive, with her legs spreading and her knees locking against me. My cock hardens in an instant and I know she can feel it because she rocks against me.
My fingers thread into her hair to deepen the kiss. As much as I want to rush this before she changes her mind, I also want to move slowly and memorize every breath, every feeling, and every stroke of her tongue. She rocks her hips against me again, so I remove my hands from her hair and slide them up under her oversized T-shirt, along her hips, waist and rib cage. She sits up and yanks the shirt over her head and I get the first glimpse in six years of her perfect
tits. The last time she was in a similar position astride me was the night before I left for Afghanistan. There was no little night-light in the room to give me this view though; I just knew what she looked like and kept it in my mind’s eye.
My fingers trail down the slope of her breast and swirl the nipples on both sides, teasing. They pucker under my attention and I rise up and take one into my mouth, nipping it lightly with my teeth. She moans and squirms, gripping my hair and holding my head in place. A smile forms on my lips, knowing she’s enjoying herself as much as I am. “More,” she pants as she guides me to the other side. I miss this hunger between us. We were always magic when making love and it’s probably why I haven’t been interested in anyone else since. I knew it would never be like this with another woman.
I grip her hips and guide her to move a little. My hands slide up and hold her as I roll us so I’m on top. I scoot back and hook my fingers in her panties, tugging them down her legs. Knowing where I’m going, she drops her head back against the pillows and hisses, “Yes,” as my fingers spread her open and my tongue makes its first pass over sensitive flesh. The tangy taste of her is heaven on my tongue and I take my time licking, laving, and working her into a frenzy. I wait until she’s about to explode to pull back.
“I need you now,” she begs.
I don’t say anything. Instead I strip off my clothes and bury my face in her core once more, bringing her to the brink again. When she begs this time, I move up her body, kissing and licking as I go until I’m hovering above her, ready to slide inside.
“I need you,” she groans and grips my ass cheeks, digging her nails into my flesh.
Who am I to deny her what we both want and obviously need? I flex my hips and thrust inside her. The warmth of her walls squeezes my cock and I bury my face in her neck. Nothing has ever felt this good. I suck and kiss her neck as our hips meet over and over. When I feel the walls of her sex quiver, I readjust and lift her hips, gripping tight, and power into her repeatedly until she’s finally writhing and screaming my name. Then I move her legs over my shoulders and pound as hard as I can until I finally come, seated deep in the only place I want to be.
When I collapse against her, doing my best to catch my breath, her fingers sift through my hair tenderly. I kiss her collarbone and rest quietly. Now that the lust has died down, I’m afraid she’ll send me back to the couch. “I’ve missed you,” I breathe along her neck as I lift back up. “You have no idea how much.”
“You can get sex anytime, I bet, if you just shave that squirrel off your face and cut that mop,” she jokes.
“Not the sex. Okay, so yes the sex, but mostly just being with you.”
“Come on, Wes. We both know you don’t really miss us. The sex with us was always phenomenal.”
I stare into her eyes so she knows I’m not lying. “I haven’t been with another woman since I was with you. I haven’t been on another date or even pursued another woman. It’s only been you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“You’re telling me that you’ve gone six years without sex?” she asks, her eyes narrowed a little with disbelief.
I shake my head. “I’m not lying.”
“If you felt this way, why didn’t you come back to me?”
“The night you told me you were done, I knew I’d hurt you beyond belief and couldn’t believe I was the one to do that. I vowed that I’d never do anything to hurt you again. I knew I couldn’t let you go, not entirely, but I could allow you to let go. I thought if it made you happy, I could live with it.”
Her fingers run along my eyebrows, down along my cheek, and then to my beard softly, reverently, and I wish for the first time in forever that I had a clean shave to feel her tender fingers. “I’ve missed you too. I thought for sure you had a girlfriend somewhere. I just can’t imagine you alone.”
“If I had someone else, I never would’ve been in this bed with you. You know I’m faithful.” I roll away from her and leave the bed to find a washcloth. I return and spread her legs to gently clean her up.
“I can’t believe I just slept with you without the condom conversation,” she groans.
“You have nothing to worry about. I wasn’t lying that you’re the only one I’ve been with. I should have thought about wrapping it but I was high in the moment.”
I can hear the smile in her voice as I return the washcloth to the bathroom. “It was definitely a moment to be high in. Damn.”
I chuckle as I climb back into bed and pull her back over me, resting one hand on her butt cheek and the other on her back, and slip off to sleep easily for the first time in years.
Eleven
Jess
At any time during the last five years, if you would have told me I’d be lying here starfish-style tonight on Wes like no time had passed—post coital—I would have checked you for a fever. Since my sister died, we’ve had very few conversations and most of those were heated and unpleasant. Based on that alone, we shouldn’t be here like this.
I’ve been getting hints since he showed up to take care of me this time when Detective Rasan called, but I don’t think I realized how much I’ve missed him until that moment he pulled me close after my dream. No one has been able to soothe me like him, not since I was a little girl and my mom would sit with me when I was sick.
His breath evens out and I know he’s fallen asleep. I lie against him skin to skin, soaking up every little thing about him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the faint scent of motor oil that seems to be part of him even long after he’s showered, the light dusting of chest hair tickling my cheek and the solid body beneath mine. It doesn’t scream bodybuilder; it proclaims protector. I never felt safer than when I was with him. You would think that when my sister went missing and was subsequently found dead, I would find solace in his arms. I didn’t. In fact, I rarely let him hold me when he came back from Afghanistan to be with me. It was almost as if I was wrapped so tight in my grief that I didn’t want any reprieve. I just wanted to hurt and I succeeded. It was awful. For the first time in years, I feel a little peace, so I allow it to pull me under, and I relax into sleep.
My eyes blink open to the bright light in my room. I obviously slept the rest of the night with no problem and so did Wes because his hands are in the same place they were when we fell asleep. One on my butt and the other on my lower back. I slip out of his arms and head to the bathroom to relieve myself. My body is a bit stiff from last night’s activities but it feels good for a change.
When I return, Wes is still asleep, so I take a moment to study him. Other than the wild hair and beard, he’s still the same man I knew several years ago. Unable to keep my hands to myself and allowing the desire of touching him to take over, I slip into bed next to him and comb my fingers through the disheveled hair around his face. After a minute or so of this, his eyebrows squish up and his eyes open. I smile down at him. “Your hair was in your eyes; I couldn’t resist moving it away.”
A soft smile crosses his lips and I return it. I shouldn’t let these hearts-and-flowers feelings swirl around in my heart as we lie here, but I can’t seem to help it. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to avoid facing everything going on with my sister and this is so much easier. Or maybe I just really missed him. I don’t know for sure. I do know that I don’t want to get out of this bed and go back to work today. I’m afraid that once we step out of this house, the past will catch us and subdue us once again.
There hasn’t been much to smile about in the last five years since Darrien was killed, so I’m going to savor this moment a little longer. I lean down and press my lips against his. Wes’s fingers slide into my hair and he holds me closer as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. My body responds like it did a thousand times before, the time that we spent apart evaporates as we slide back into intimacy with little effort.
This time, the lovemaking is slow, sweet and the perfect way to spend a morning. We had so many days like this when we first got together and in between his deploy
ments. I’m not a morning person, never have been, but I always loved this kind of wake-up call.
By the time we’re both sated and he’s stretched out on top of me, trying to catch his breath, I realize that if I don’t get it in gear I’ll be late for work.
“Wes, I hate to do this, but I have to go to work.”
“I think you should call in,” he mumbles against my neck, giving me shivers.
“I can’t. They’re already short-staffed.”
A gruff groan worthy of a large bear comes from deep in his chest as he rolls away from me and stares at the ceiling. He turns his head after a second and smiles at me. “I’ll rustle you up some breakfast while you get ready.”
“Best idea ever.”
I scamper off to the bathroom and jump in the shower. As I’m washing my hair, I realize that I’m still smiling. How is that possible? In the middle of everything going on with my sister’s case and work, it doesn’t seem like I should be able to have this light feeling in my feet or this warmth in my heart…but somehow, I do. I finish quickly, excited for the first time in a long time for breakfast. As soon as I open the door to my room, the aroma of Wes’s omelets twists my stomach and pulls me down the stairs quickly.
“You’ve got eight minutes to eat. I’m going to jump through a quick shower and will be ready to take you to work by the time you are done.” He pauses in front of me. “Why do you look pissed? I thought you’d like this for breakfast. Too many days in a row?”
“No, I thought we would eat together.”
His head jerks back, obviously surprised by my answer, and then a slow smile spreads on his face. “I can shower after I drop you off.”
“It’s okay.” I look away, suddenly feeling vulnerable, knowing I’ve exposed too much of what I’m feeling. “I know you need a shower before you head to work.” I move to walk around him and he grabs my arm and tugs me back to him. His arms wrap around me and he gets close enough that I can feel his breath against my ear. “I can be a little late to work. I’ll shower at my place after I drop you off.”