by Twyla Turner
It’s only been three days since we’ve seen each other, but our lips come together as if it’s been months. Etienne devours my mouth, and I kiss him back just as fiercely. His tongue dips into my mouth suggestively. The side of his fist hits the ‘stop’ button, and the elevator shutters to a halt. His hands roam down my body. They reach the skirt of my dress, and his fingers slowly gather up the material until he exposes my panties. His fingers find me already hot and wet as they move my panties to the side and dip into my recesses.
I gasp, releasing his lips. He kisses down my jaw to my neck. He nips and sucks at my flesh, surely leaving marks as he goes. Marking his territory. Silently saying, you are mine. I want every man to know it. I want you to know it.
My hips pump greedily against his seeking fingers. I want so much more. My fingers reach for his jeans and quickly undo them. Before I can release him, Etienne crouches down, tugging roughly at my underwear. They drop to my ankles, and he helps me step out of them, tossing them to the side. On his way up, he buries his nose between my thighs, breathing in. His tongue tastes me, circling my clit. Memorizing my scent. My taste.
He rises quickly, and with all of his strength he lifts me up. Slamming me against the corner of the elevator. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding myself up as he frees himself from his jeans. He enters me in one hard plunge to the base. His fingers bite into the skin of my ass, using it as leverage as he strokes deeply.
Etienne’s mouth latches onto mine to cover my cries echoing in the small space. His cock hits my sweet spot just right, and I bite down hard on his bottom lip to stop the scream that bubbles up. A metallic flavor hits my tongue. My bite drew blood. He hisses and pulls back, licking his wounded lip.
“This changes nothing,” I pant. Tears in my eyes.
“I know,” he says thickly.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck. His hips pump faster. I clutch and scratch at the smooth material of his leather jacket. I feel the flutter and euphoria of my climax building.
“Je t'aime,” he whispers against my skin. I love you.
His words send me over the edge. Tears spill down my cheeks. I cry out and tremble in his arms. My pussy squeezes around him, drawing out his own orgasm. His cock jerks and pulsates as he continues to pump into me. Our lovemaking is messy, rough, and desperate.
As our breath calms, the distant sounds of cheering and noise-makers reach our sealed cocoon of sorrow and passion within the elevator. It’s a new year.
Etienne eases my feet down to the floor. I quickly grab my panties and pull them back on before the evidence of our lovemaking slides down my thighs. I don’t say a word as I push the button for the ground floor. The elevator’s gears whirl and start its descent again.
My back absorbs the heat he radiates as he stands close behind me. His breath on my neck. The elevator dings, signaling that we’ve arrived. I swipe at the tears that fall down my cheeks, before stepping out. My heels click sharply across the black and white tiled vestibule. I know he’s close behind me, but I can’t look at him. I’m barely holding it together as it is.
I step out into the chilly night. Voices ring out accompanied by music in every direction as different parties, and their revelers bring in the new year. Auld Lang Syne provides a poignant soundtrack to the end of our relationship.
I wonder, can an old acquaintance truly be forgot, and never brought to mind? Etienne isn’t a man who one could easily forget.
His hands clutch my arms and turns me. His eyes are so incredibly sad, his face wet with tears. My eyes fill again with my own.
“Let me take you home.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “Because then I’ll let you come up. I’ll let you make love to me until morning. And when the sun rises on the new year, the same problem will be there as it was when it set in the old. But it will be that much harder to walk away.”
A taxi pulls up checking to see if we needed a ride. I step forward, but Etienne continues to hold my hand. I look back.
“Je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I will love you forever.
I choke on a sob, and he finally lets me go. I quickly slip into the cab. Through my tears, his image standing dejectedly on the curb gets smaller as the taxi takes me further away.
Chapter 22
The next few months pass as sluggishly as a child waiting for Christmas or on a car ride to an amusement park. I’d say, ‘Are we there yet?’ But I don’t know what or where ‘there’ is. Where the heartbreak stops? What will bring me joy again? The only thing I have to look forward to is my next tour group, which isn’t until May. One more month.
I work on tweaking the tour here and there. Perfecting it. Or booking different hotels and excursions based on availability. Finding an activity to fill the void Etienne’s painting class left behind. But otherwise, it’s all pretty much set up. Leaving me with not much to do, other than finding more clients who are interested in touring the South of France. Which doesn’t take up all of my time.
Much of my idle time is spent staring out the window. Raquel and Tiffani try to keep me busy, but they have lives too. Raquel also tries to wear me down almost daily to get me to go out with eligible men. Each time I tell her I’m not ready.
The love marks Etienne had left on my neck, and the bruises in the shape of his fingers on my ass New Year’s Eve night, took weeks to disappear. Constant reminders, every time I looked in the mirror. I’m sure it’s the main reason why he did it.
Luckily or unluckily (depending on my mood), I haven’t run into Etienne since that night. He’s respected my wishes to stay away. And I’ve talked myself out of walking to his flat or to the university a hundred times.
I woke up on the day of his thirtieth birthday in late January, wanting to see him more than ever. To celebrate with him. All the things I had wanted to do for him tumbled through my head. I’d wanted to take him on a weekend trip to the countryside, just the two of us. I’d wanted to cook a candlelit dinner. To give him new art supplies and a leather cord necklace I had found with a compass pendant to go with his others. Symbolizing that he would always be able to find me. And then maybe he would play his guitar for me before we made love all night.
Oh God, how I miss the sex. His touch. His kiss. Many nights I wake up drenched in sweat after dreaming of him making love to me again. Most of those nights I wake up before I can reach an orgasm. I wake up, body aching and unsatisfied. A few blissful times, when I’m able to stay asleep, my climax is so strong it wakes me, and I cry out into the dark. Those times, I roll over and reach for the space next to me where he used to sleep, but I grab at air. My heart, aching and unsatisfied.
Last night, was one of those nights. My orgasm, so intense that my sex clenched at nothing. Like grabbing at straws. It was so vivid. When I woke up, I could swear that I felt the touch of his calloused hands on my skin. The moisture of his mouth and tongue on my neck and nipples. It was so real that when I woke up, and he wasn’t there, I immediately started to cry.
I can still feel him, even now. Hours later.
“Ryn! Ryn!” Raquel shakes my arm. “Where are you?”
“Huh?” I shake off the memory. “Oh. Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Quite a few things actually. About your birthday at the end of the month. About the handsome man, I found for you.”
“Oh shit! It is April. I actually forgot about my birthday.” I cringe sheepishly.
“That is because you have been too busy wallowing in misery, ma chére.”
“I know.” There’s no use in denying it.
“Now, let me start again while I have your attention. As you know, I am the best party thrower you have ever met.” She winks. “So, I want to plan a party for you. Well, technically, I’ve already started planning your party. All you have to do is show up. Next, there’s a wonderful man, sweet and kind, that I think you should go on a date with.”
“Raquel, you already know how I feel about dating right now.�
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“You are going. And that is final.”
“But-”
“No, buts. It is just a date. You do not have to marry him. You do not need to fuck him. But you do need to talk, laugh, and flirt. You do need to remember that it is possible to be happy again. Even if it is just for a moment.”
“If I go on this date, will it shut you up?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine, I’ll go. But I don’t think it’s fair to this innocent man to have to act as my rebound.”
“I’ve already told him that you are coming off of an intense relationship. He knows the odds of you wanting something serious is slim.”
“Then why would he even want to go out with me?”
“Because he is just coming out of a nasty divorce. He just wants to feel normal again. He wants to get his feet wet in the dating world again with someone where there won’t be any pressure to go any further than a meal. He is perfect for what you need right now.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
I desperately need the distraction.
~~~
“Hello, are you Bryan?” I say to the only man sitting at a table by himself, who seemed to fit the description Raquel had given me.
I’d told Raquel that I preferred to meet him at the restaurant, instead of him coming to pick me up like a proper date. If the date doesn’t go well, it will alleviate any pressure on him to feel obligated to take me home and sitting through an awkward car ride.
“Bonsoir. You must be, Taryn.” He stands, and air kisses my cheeks. His accent is light and tinged with another as if he grew up in two different countries.
He’s handsome in an unassuming sort of way. Not the sort who turns heads, but the kind when you actually look at him, you realize he has a really nice face. Average height and build, dark hair, and light brown eyes.
“You are more beautiful than Raquel described.” He says as he pulls out my chair for me. “Uh…not that she described you badly. I…uh…just think that she held back so that I wouldn’t be a nervous bumbling idiot, like right now.”
I laugh to ease his nerves.
“You’re fine, Bryan. No offense taken. Thank you for the compliment.”
His awkwardness has already eased the tension I’ve been carrying all day.
“You’re welcome.” He laughs at himself.
The waiter comes up to take our drink orders and then leaves to let us look over the menu. We decide in silence, unsure of what to say next. Both knowing that the other more than likely would rather be here with someone else. The waiter comes back, takes our orders and menus, and leaves us in silence once more.
“So…what do you do, Bryan?”
“I’m a mechanic. I work on cars all day.”
I look at his hands, and sure enough, they are work-worn. I can tell he scrubbed them clean for the date, but there’s still the deeply embedded black around the cuticles of his nails. I blink several times as the image of paint-stained hands materialize out of nowhere. I quickly shake off the melancholy that hits me.
“How about we skip all the pleasantries and small talk?” He blurts out.
“Uh…sure.”
“This is awful, isn’t it? Starting over when you’d rather just lie in bed for eternity.”
“God, yes!” I collapse back into my seat, the rest of my tension flowing out of my body along with his honesty.
“Hell, if you’re like me, you probably would rather be sitting here with your ex.”
I nod.
“I still love mine, but she fell out of love with me. Not much I can do about that.” He shrugs and releases a shaky breath.
“I still love mine, too. But it was me who broke it off with him. He wants children, and I can’t give that to him. So, I did what was best for him.”
“Wow! I don’t know that I would be so selfless.”
“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake. But I know I didn’t. That’s just the heartache talking.”
The waiter eventually comes back with our food. And we switch to safer topics as we eat. Light-hearted and funny stories about our lives. It feels nice to laugh and chat with a man I know has no interest in me romantically, and I have no interest in him. For the first time in months, I can eat without a knot in my throat.
As our dinner comes to an end, the fine hairs on my arms rise. Gooseflesh prickles my skin. A shiver runs down my spine. Awareness. My body is attuned with it. Only one person can get that reaction out of me. My eyes scan the restaurant, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. I look out the window, and I glimpse the back of a man walking away. I swear he has a messy bun on the back of his neck.
I shake my head. Now apparently, I’m seeing things. A ghost of my recent past that I wish would materialize out of thin air.
“Thank you for having dinner with me. I really needed that.” Bryan says, pulling me out from the dangerous path I am heading down.
“Me too. Thank you, Bryan.”
“Let me drive you home.” He offers as we leave the restaurant.
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”
We slip into his car, and I give him directions to my building. He turns onto my street, and his headlights cross over a familiar motorcycle parked out front. My eyes scan the sidewalk almost frantically. Sitting with his back against the door to my building with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head down in his hands is Etienne.
My heart pumps thickly.
“Who’s that?” Bryan asks.
“That’s him.” I don’t need to make the distinction on who’s ‘him’ for Bryan to make the connection.
“Is it okay? Do you need me to get out with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” I pull my eyes away from the sad figure sitting against my door and turn to the sweet man I know I’ll never see again. “Thank you, again. It was a perfect break. Even if it was for just a moment.”
I look back at Etienne.
“It was my pleasure. Goodbye, Taryn.”
“Goodbye, Bryan. And good luck.”
“You too.”
I open the car door and slip out. I raise my hand once more as Bryan drives off. With a fortifying breath, I turn towards Etienne. I slowly walk over and stop in front of him.
“Did you have a nice date?” He asks without raising his head.
“It wasn’t exactly a date. What are you doing here, Etienne?”
“I saw you.” He finally looks up. His broken heart in his eyes. “You looked happy. Laughing.”
So, that shadowed figure I’d seen walking away from the restaurant was him.
“Not in the way you’re thinking.”
“What other way could there be?” He slowly stands.
I don’t answer. I don’t want to have this argument out front of my building. I brush him aside and walk through the door. He follows me. I let him. I’d pretty much prayed that he’d materialize out of nowhere. And here he is. The last thing I want to do is send him away. Even though, I know I should.
We ride up the elevator to my floor in silence. My mind drifts to the last time we were in an elevator together, and my body quakes. I can tell he has plenty to say but wants to wait until we’re enclosed in my apartment.
As I unlock the door to my flat, I can feel his breath on my neck. So close that I could lean back into him to let his warmth seep into my too long cold body. Instead, I open the door and walk inside.
I turn to look at him as he closes the door and locks it. He’s lost weight. Dark circles have taken up residence around his eyes. Like New Year’s Eve night, he has paint splattered everywhere. He’s beautiful.
We stare at each other for a while in silence. Taking note of the changes the last couple of months apart have done to us.
“I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. All I do is paint.” He says, confirming what my eyes see. “Paint the images of you. Of us, that haunt me all day and night. But you… You are out on dates, enjoying other men. Is that really why you ended us? Did I bore you
?”
“Etienne, do I look like I fared much better than you? I’ve lost about ten pounds from finding it difficult to eat myself. I was barely able to cover the dark circles that plague my own eyes. You’re lucky. At least you have an outlet for your pain. You can paint. I just sleep when I can and stare out the window wishing things could be different between us. Wishing I could give you the child, I know you want. You’ve never bored me.
“Raquel begged me to go out with that guy. He wasn’t interested in me or I him. He just divorced his wife and still isn’t over her. We talked about you both. All tonight was, was two people needing a break from the heartache.”
“When do I get a break?”
“I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe when you meet someone.”
“Is that what you are doing? Trying to find someone to help you forget about me? To replace me? I wish it were that easy for me.”
“You have no idea how hard this has been for me.” I swipe my hands angrily through the air. “You don’t know how many times I’ve stopped myself from walking to your flat or the university. How every night, you come to me in my dreams. I either wake up with my body aching for you unsatisfied or trembling with an orgasm, reaching out to you but nothing is there but a cold pillow where your head used to lay. I want no one else but you.”
I barely get out the last sentence before he strides over to me and crushes his mouth to mine. I gasp for air, and he dives his tongue into my mouth. My hands find their way into his hair, pulling him towards me. Both of our hands tremble as we begin to strip each other down. Etienne walks me backward towards my bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in our wake.
We fall naked onto my bed. My body already wet and welcoming. I’ve been wet from the moment I saw him sitting against the door of my building.
Etienne thrusts hard inside of me. I cry against his mouth, my body, unused to his size and length after three months apart. He stretches me open and hits that spot deep within me. I’ve been so desperate for this that all it takes is a few deep, hard strokes for me to fall apart in his arms. I convulse around him as my scream rents the air.