Catch My Breath

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Catch My Breath Page 9

by Wendy L. Wilson


  My chest rises and falls rapidly with each small sound that moves across her lips, urging me on as my fingers slide over her silky soft skin. I’m nervous as hell and each time her breathing picks up, I get even more excited. I move my fingers back and forth, in and out, watching, studying her to see what she likes the most. It’s as if I’m a virgin all of sudden, lead by my heart into each movement for the first time. She leans back hard towards my body the more I touch her, even turning her neck so I can taste her mouth and even though it takes a minute for me to work out the coordination of my hand and tongue in two separate places, it has me about to lose it.

  She lets out a loud whimper as she jolts forward then quickly retracts back against me, almost melting against me; there’s no doubt, I remember that sound. I smile with confidence, yet almost wanting to ask her if she did, but I don’t.

  After that, she suggests touching me back. Holy shit! I want to roll over and give her complete access to anything she wants to do to me, but I actually stop her. This isn’t a marathon; I’m hoping we have time for all that. She falls to sleep fast, and so do I after my body relaxes from the intensity of her movement and an extreme case of needing some sort of relief.

  Upon waking, we decide on fishing for the rest of the day. I truly want to kneel on my hands and knees and thank the Lord for sending me this gorgeous angel that knows how to handle tools and that likes to fish. Wow … jackpot.

  Racing along behind her as we head to Evan’s grandfather’s private dock where he keeps all his water toys, I stare at the way her hips sashay from side to side, the way a single drop of sweat gradually rolls down her back and the way the sunlight bounces off each strand of her blonde hair. Looking my way with an all-knowing smile as she shimmies her hips, she totally catches me checking out her ass … hard.

  “Arrgghh …” I smack my hand through the air towards her butt, barely grazing it as she squeals and darts away.

  She stops just ahead of me and glances over her shoulder, overlapping her feet on a slow, graceful and sensual walk that has my eyes falling straight to her ass … again. It’s drawing me in.

  She laughs and I let out another groan, “Arhhh …” but this time I grab her into my arms.

  Her eyes sparkle with mischief and giddiness as she breaks free of my hold with a smile. As soon as she speeds off, I race after her only to tackle her to the ground about five feet up. My chest fills with an explosive flood of contentment as I look at her squirming happily within my grasp and retreating into my arms.

  “Ok, I give up, I give up,” she gasps, right as my fingertips attack her stomach.

  My mouth opens and I smile; really smile and watch her as if I’m seeing her for the first time. I take a deep breath and pull her arms above her head playfully with my knees to each side of her waist. I’m careful to not bear any weight onto her as I kneel with pebbles and dirt scratching my shins and portions of my feet not covered by my sandals.

  I keep my eyes on her as she stares back, suddenly we are completely alone and silence engulfs us. It’s as if we’re stranded on an island, just her and I. Maybe we’ve even been there for years, because right now the raw emotion that is overcoming my heart should be something you feel after decades with someone, yet we’ve only known each other for a week. A week; is this too soon?

  “Alyssa …” I whisper, my smile falling and my mind swimming with all that I want to say to her; none of which I plan to.

  How is it that this is happening?

  Is this real?

  Do you feel what I feel?

  I feel like I’ve known you my whole life; have we met before?

  Alyssa … I think I love you.

  She looks alarmed for a second. “What’s wrong?”

  I can’t say a word though. My tongue is knotted into a bundle of confusion on whether I am interpreting correctly what my heartbeat is telling me. Am I in love with her? I’ve never felt any of this before, yet with her, I felt it the second I saw her step onto that gravel lot; the moment my eyes fell on her. It was like I was looking into a crystal ball, staring right at my future.

  A bird whistles in the trees above me, practically beckoning me on.

  “I …” is all I manage to get out, but should I say the rest?

  A blink of her eyes as she watches me in suspense throws me off my high-wire and makes me lose my courage. I shake my head then reopen them with her still watching me.

  “I just wanted to say this is the best summer of my life.” If I had to choose a whole life without her and this past week with her, I’d choose just the one week. It doesn’t consist of my entire summer, but from where I’m sitting, this is the part that matters. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I jump up and help her to her feet, knowing I’m a chicken once again. We gather our stuff and in no time we’re out on the lake, enjoying a rare escape from everyone else; completely and utterly alone. I veer the boat south to a place Evan showed me a couple summers back. It’s somewhere he came a lot and from how he told it, I’m thinking he didn’t come here alone.

  As soon as we are settled in for some fishing, we start talking. Imagine my surprise when the first sentence out of my mouth is asking about her family. Why’d I do that? I never do that! I close my eyes and look up to the sky for a second, pleading that I did not open up a line of future questions that I’m not yet prepared to answer, but her reply surprises me.

  “My family is close. You know what … there’s another reason for this trip …”

  I perk up to her comment, remembering how one night she had told me that one of the reasons she came out here this summer is to get her mind off of a cheating ex; an ex that she had just broke up with recently. That fact made me extremely uneasy, knowing she could very well be on the rebound, but then I told myself to trust my instincts.

  “My father is waiting on test results to see if his cancer has returned. A few summers ago he battled cancer, but he got past it. Then last week, I came home and found out that we may possibly have to relive that same heartbreaking experience. I just don’t know what to do if …” she trails off and my heart falls into my stomach. I want to lunge across the small fishing boat and wrap her in my arms so tight that she will never feel the same anguish I did.

  A slicing pain rips across my chest, infiltrating my heart. I’ve sat in that chair; I remember that discussion, that agonizing wait on test results. It kills you.

  “Ok boys …” my mom’s hands shake as she lowers them to the kitchen table where she has gathered all of us.

  Jake and I sit across from her with Tristan to her right. He looks nervous too, biting the inside of his lip and occasionally placing his hand on hers to steady her nerves.

  “So I know you have probably noticed that I’ve been getting clumsier lately … falling and needing some help from time to time, but …” she looks to my brother and he nods. It’s apparent that he has already been told whatever news she is about to deliver. “I finally got answers from the doctor.”

  I stare at my mom, threading my brows together, scrunching my nose and curling my lips. I don’t understand what is going on. Jake remains silent too, fidgeting his fingers in front of him. A tear slips from Mom’s eyes and my mouth falls and my face tenses.

  “Mom …” I say quietly, wanting to leap over the table and hug her. I hate seeing her cry. She’s done it a lot lately, while washing dishes, listening to music, alone in her bedroom. I even caught her sitting in the driveway in her car the other day with her head hung forward and a river of tears that I never thought would stop.

  She takes a deep breath and sucks it all in, all the emotion, as Tristan pulls her closer to his side.

  A sense of courage, strength and determination takes over her face as she goes on. “The doctors say I have a disease called ALS,” she pauses. For a second, I wonder if I’m supposed to ask questions. What’s ALS? I know what disease means and it’s never good.

  “Do you have cancer?” I ask, knowing that is a disease that I learned ab
out in health class.

  “No honey,” she smiles and reaches across to squeeze my hand. “I have something called ALS. It’s got a longer name … a medical name, but ALS is the shortened version. It ummm …” her voice trembles and she looks to Tristan, a silent request for help.

  He jumps in, finishing for her as tears start to fall from her face one at a time, an endless parade.

  “It means she’ll start losing function of normal things like walking, moving … things like that …” my brother stops and his gloomy expression and watery eyes have me on high alert. This is bad. “Ummm … she may eventually have to stay in bed, but it’s ok … I’m going to take care of her and we’ll just carry on, ok?” He looks at me and Jake with an encouraging smile, but I’m not convinced. I’m ten and I’ve never seen my brother cry, but as he wipes away a fallen tear, I know he’s not telling me everything.

  “Mom, will you be ok? Is there medicine you can take to make it go away?”

  Her and Tristan share a look and she huffs out a breath with more tears. My brother pulls her to his side.

  “She’ll be ok … I’ll take care of her,” he answers and my shoulders relax.

  Mom quickly interrupts my sigh of relief, “No … no, Tristan … I can do this.” She turns and faces Jake and I. “Sweeties, everyone goes to heaven eventually, you know? I am on medication, but it doesn’t do much for this disease.”

  “Are you gonna die?” Jake pipes up, making me cringe and causing Tristan’s face to pale at his bluntness, but Mom just smiles, a sweet loving smile.

  “Eventually, we all do, honey. It’s just life … but I plan to stick around as long as possible, I promise … Ok?”

  “Ok, Mom,” Jake says innocently and beyond comprehension of what was just told to us.

  I want to scream, it’s not ok. Tristan cries and my own eyes well up with tears. I’m confused and I want to believe that she will stay here, but the way they both are acting has me doubting their words.

  Looking across the boat at Alyssa, I feel her pain as if it is fresh and happening to me all over again. I pop up without thinking it through and stumble forward closer to her until I reach the small padded bench in the center of the boat. Taking a seat, I quickly scoop her tiny hand up in mine and give it a gentle, heartfelt squeeze.

  “I wish I could hold you right now, but I may flip the boat. I promise to as soon as we get to shore, though,” I tell her, ready to pause our fishing excursion and dock the boat. I have to hold her! But deep down, I know more than anything she doesn’t want to think about it. I assume that’s why she came to the lake after all, to try and get her mind off of it. With that, I clear my throat and get busy harpooning worms onto both our hooks and lightening the conversation to fishing stories that will make her laugh, and she does.

  After we have caught a few and thrown them back, we find a small clearing with some sand not far away so I steer in that direction. Once the boat is pulled to the shore and we unpack a couple necessities, she spreads a towel out, but I can’t wait any longer. I grab her up in my arms and hold her as the minutes click by without a single word. Her fingertips run up my back in slow motions and I love it. Tilting my head to look at her, yet making sure to not turn this into anything less than affectionate and heartfelt, I move in for a slow, warm kiss that lets her know what’s in my heart.

  The sun beats down over us, warming the sand under our feet and sucking every bit of moisture from our skin, but we still stay put holding onto one another. Our lips find each other again and this time, it get more heated with her hands running up my ribcage then back down, settling on my abs. The positioning of her hands makes my head spin, my heart drums uncontrollably, and we pick up momentum as I slip my tongue into her mouth. I don’t even take a breath; I taste her lips with my own, moving them in a seductive flow with hers as my hands work their way over her bikini strings to her back, past her small waist and stop, comfortably resting on her swimsuit bottom.

  As we break away, both of us taking a breath, she speaks up, “You want to get in the water and swim for a bit?”

  I’m relieved. With me pressed so closely against her body while we kiss, I don’t even have to ask her if she knows just what that does to me; I’m sure she can feel it. She has a habit of letting out this tiny little whimper when my tongue touches hers and it always has me visualizing more aggressive actions.

  I take off into the water, turning my back to her so she cannot see my state of arousal. The pitched tent is never a sexy look when you are trying to be smooth and woo a girl. Besides, she has already taken in that sight on numerous instances so I think she has pretty well gotten the point that I stay turned on around her.

  Once I’m waist high in the water I turn back around to look at her as she wades in, stopping when the water laps at her thighs. Folding her arms over her chest, she crinkles her nose and looks around.

  “What’s wrong?” I snicker.

  The water is pretty chilly today and with the thin fabric of her bikini top I can see just how cold she is.

  “It’s freezing.” She shivers, running her hands along her arms.

  Walking back towards her, I splash a little water up in her direction and laugh. “It’s not that bad,” I say, my situation already remedied from the cold water.

  She puts her hands up as if she is defending herself. “Don’t throw me in, Judd,” she laughs.

  I smile, “I won’t. I promise. ” I pull her into my arms and walk us back to the beach area.

  After I lay her down on the towel, I reach into her bag and pull out the sunscreen. Her smile grows as I stare at her not even watching while I flip the cap and squirt a nice blob of lotion on my hand.

  “Lay back,” I instruct; she complies without hesitation.

  I get busy rubbing it on, starting with her calves and working my way up her thighs. She lies back for only so long before propping herself up on her elbows to examine my technique. Slowly, I wander up her leg further to the tender flesh near her bikini line. I’m not even sure I have any lotion left on my hand, but just like back at the shower, no way am I interrupting this. Carefully watching her face as she puckers her lips, fighting a smile, I sneakily dip my pinky behind the fabric of her bottoms on each stroke.

  She laughs, eyeing me the whole time. “You know, the sun is not going to penetrate that area, right?”

  I kick my head back with a chuckle, not even bothering to answer her. She knows full well that I’m taking advantage of a perfect excuse to touch her. Moving up to her chest I use the same gentle motion and sneak a couple extra touches under her suit. I have to be fair, giving all parts of her body equal attention. We both laugh at my seduction methods while I finish slathering her with sunscreen. After I’m done, I slide on top of her with the slick sticky texture of lotion acting as a sort of glue that is sure to seal us together; I’m hoping.

  “What are you doing? You’re blocking my sun,” she worms around, trying to sound stern and annoyed, even though a smile gives way.

  My smile deepens and I squirm around playfully against her body, holding onto her shoulders with my knees sinking into the towel at each side of her legs.

  “Don’t be stingy … I’m getting some lotion for myself,” I tease then plant a kiss on her beautiful moist lips.

  Her face lights up as she pulls me in her for a deeper kiss. No more playing; down to business. I still myself and leisurely run one hand up the curve of her body.

  “Mmmm,” a whine vibrates on her tongue and I have to suck in a breath.

  She has no idea, absolutely no idea what those little sounds do to me or what they make me want to do to her. Raising my face away from her, I look into her eyes and shift so she can get more comfortable. Her legs slide up along either side of my hips and I settle myself between her legs, both of us still dressed in our suits, but in my mind...there’s absolutely nothing between us.

  Running a hand up the outer part of her thigh, I move in to taste her lips again. My eyes flick down as her to
ngue grazes over her bottom lip, leaving a trail of moisture that is calling my name. She opens her mouth and I descend in on it, eager and already aroused.

  “How many girls have you kissed?” she slams me with a question I didn’t expect and I pull away quickly, completely forgetting my desires for a moment. Where on earth did this question come from and why is she asking it now of all times?

  I laugh, lowering my eyebrows in confusion. “What? Umm … what brought that up?” I shake my head wondering how we went from making out to talking about other girls. Never a good subject!

  “I’m curious,” she says innocently as if it is completely usual to dead-end a moment of passion and bring up something that most men steer away from discussing.

  I may not have ever been in a relationship before, but common sense tells me, never discuss ex’s or particular situations from your past when you are in the position I’m currently in. Basically our easy-going-playfulness-in-the-sun day might have come to a crossroad.

  Pausing before answering, I weigh my options of how to answer this, but then give in to just answer plain and simple. “Not as many as most guys my age, but like I told you before I stay pretty focused on football.” I’m probably going to sound fairly inexperienced. I grit my teeth, mentally tallying them up.

  Tiffany, of course.

  I have no doubt that my lips probably landed on the girl I lost my virginity to a time or two.

  After a huge football game my junior year, one of the cheerleaders tracked me down and asked if I was busy later. I told her I had plans; she congratulated me on the win and then slapped one on me. I didn’t stop it … it was unexpected and it was pretty nice.

 

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