Open Heart

by Marysol James

  Eric let out a shout as he came, holding her in place as he ground in to her trembling body. When she collapsed on to his chest, he pulled her as close as he could, his hands on her back, stroking gently. They stayed like that for a minute, calming, their bodies relaxing.

  This time, she did cry. He felt the tears on his chest and he tried to lift her up so he could see her face. Shy and embarrassed, she resisted it and buried her face in his shoulder, her body heaving with sobs.

  He kissed her hair, her forehead. “It’s OK, Annabeth. Let yourself feel it. Just feel.”

  She cried in his arms, but this wasn’t like earlier. These tears weren’t desperate and full of hurt and anger; they were sweeter, somehow. Cleansing and freeing. He felt the difference in her body: in the kitchen, she had been tense and tight, now she was open and soft. She was crying for some other reason now, maybe even a good one. Relief? Release? Acceptance?

  Eric held her, murmured nonsense in to her ear. She found it comforting, soothing. Slowly, her breathing calmed and evened out. She pulled back a bit and looked at him.

  His black eyes were watching her, looking for signs of damage. He tucked her hair back behind her ear.

  “You OK, angel?”

  “Yes.”

  Carefully, he pulled out of her, rolled her next to him. He covered her with the sheet and sat up. “Give me five seconds.”

  She watched him go in to the attached bathroom and smiled. Besides being hot and sexy and strong, he was a truly sweet guy, and she was glad that she had decided to do this. It was the right thing after all.

  Eric got back in to bed and she moved in to his embrace.

  “Are you OK?” she asked him.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you haven’t done this since your surgery… I just thought that maybe it was bringing up some feelings for you too.”

  He was silent, his fingers intertwined with hers, thinking.

  “Eric?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He grinned. “I’m no virgin, baby, but you’re making me feel like one. You’re something special… I’ll remember you.”

  “You will?”

  “For sure.”

  She kissed him. “I’ll remember you, too.”

  They lay quietly for a few minutes.

  “Hey, Annabeth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Startled, she looked at him. “Actually… yes. We never got to eat, did we?”

  His eyes met hers. “Well, not food.”

  She flushed bright red and he laughed.

  “Well, dinner is ruined,” she said. “Maybe sandwiches?”

  “Perfect,” he said sitting up. “Sandwiches sound good.”

  **

  It took a long time to clean up the kitchen. Halfway through sweeping up the glass, Annabeth looked around, shocked.

  “It didn’t feel like this much damage at the time.”

  Eric looked up from where he was scrubbing pasta sauce off the floor. “For me, it felt like way more.”

  Shame twisted in her stomach. “I’m sorry, Eric. That must have been awful to see.”

  “Hey, no. Don’t apologize. That’s what grief can do sometimes – it makes people furious.”

  “Yeah.”

  After they ate, they got up as one and returned to the bedroom. No discussion: they just pulled off their clothing and climbed back in to bed.

  Eric cradled her in his arms, kissing her slowly and deeply. She responded and he groaned.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You are just so passionate, angel.” He ran his hands through her hair. “Is this what three years of celibacy does to someone?”

  “I guess so. But then again, you’d know too, wouldn’t you?” She reached down and grasped him, loving how hard he was under her hand.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I would.” His eyes searched hers. “So for three years, did you not feel any pleasure at all?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stroked her breast. “Did you never have an orgasm?”

  She blushed.

  “I mean, I was celibate but I wasn’t exactly a saint,” he said.

  She glanced down at his huge hands and imagined them on his cock. She was instantly wet at the thought.

  He saw her face. “So did you? Touch yourself?”

  “I… ummmm. Oh, God.”

  He propped himself up on one hand. “Really? After everything earlier, you’re feeling a bit bashful now?’

  “Yeah.”

  He moved his hand under the sheet, between their bodies. He watched her face as his fingers slipped between her lips, stroked her hard nub.

  “Did you do this?” he asked.

  She arched. “No – not really. It – I can’t – I don’t come with just my finger. I’ve never been able to.”

  “So.” His finger moved inside her. “So, you had some help.”

  “Yes.”

  “A vibrator?”

  She gasped. “Yes.”

  His finger was deeper now. “Is it here? In this bedroom?”

  “… Yes.”

  “Get it.”

  His commanding tone was back and she didn’t even want to argue. She opened the drawer in the bedside table and took out her vibrator. He was still moving his finger inside her pussy walls, pressing and pushing on her.

  His hand covered hers and he switched on the vibrator.

  “Show me,” he said. “Show me what you do.”

  “Oh, God. I can’t… this is so embarrassing.”

  But she didn’t mean it. The thought of him watching her was actually hot and exciting and she was trembling with the desire to do it. She clutched the vibrator in both hands, already imagining it inside of her and his dark eyes watching.

  This is your last night on earth, girl. Enjoy it… do everything you can with this man. You know it’s going to be amazing.

  Eric put his hands around hers. “Let me help. Just a bit.”

  Her legs opened as wide as they could go as they pushed down her body. He pressed the tip of the dildo to her entrance, rubbed it back and forth against her pearl. He kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth fully. She gasped and lifted her hips, gyrated against the vibrations.

  He kissed her again and let go of her hands. “Whatever you want to do, baby.”

  She nodded, panting. His hands fanned out over her ribcage and he sucked her nipples gently, his tongue licking and teasing her.

  Annabeth closed her eyes, her whole body on fire with feelings. She moved the vibrator inside a bit farther, felt the familiar jolt of pleasure. She arched her back, moved it deeper. Deeper still. He lifted his head and she knew he was watching her now.

  She opened her eyes as she pushed the vibrator inside her, as far as it could go. She saw the lust and heat in his eyes as he watched her fuck herself, plunging the dildo with two hands, shuddering as the clenching started inside.

  Eric was more turned on than he ever thought possible. His hand went to his cock and she gasped at the sight of his huge hand closing in to a fist. He stroked his length, up and down, his other hand busy between her legs, pressing on her swollen clit.

  Her plunging got stronger and faster now. Far too soon, her climax began and she screamed her release, her whole body shaking next to his. He turned on his side and kissed her, then laid his forehead on hers. His thumb pressed on her nub mercilessly, his hand moved on his cock and when she stiffened and came, his own orgasm began. His seed shot out of him and he ground against her hip, loving her cries and quaking even if he wasn’t inside her.

  Breathing hard, Annabeth gently pulled the vibrator out, moaning as it slid over her throbbing clit. Eric gathered her close, pressed her head on to his shoulder. They lay dazed and sweetly exhausted.

  She recovered the power of speech first.

  “I never even thought of having anybody watch me do that.”

  “You should. That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.�
�

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I liked watching you too.”

  They kissed, gently.

  “How about a shower?” Eric said.

  “Hmmm, yes. I’m all sticky.” She smiled. “Everywhere.”

  He saw his seed still glistening wet on the curve of her hip. “Did you mind?”

  “Oh, no. I thought it was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He stood up and offered her his hand. “Let’s shower together?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  **

  It was three hours later that Annabeth fell in to a deep, sated sleep.

  Eric held her, watching her face. Their shower had ended with him going down on her in the hot spray of water, and then they went back to bed. They made love twice more before her eyelids fluttered shut and her breathing grew calm and steady.

  He had time to think now, and he was thinking that he was going to find it damn near impossible to let her go in the morning. But this could never be about anything more than just one night – anything more, and he’d have to tell her the truth. There was no way he could do that, though. It would hurt her terribly, and she’d never want to see him again. He’d lose her anyway.

  No. No, you agreed to just one night. You give her what she needs to get through this awful night, and then you let her go on her way. This was never, ever supposed to happen… it ends in a few hours and then it will be one of the sweetest, most amazing memories of your life.

  He glanced at the clock. It was almost two o’clock in the morning now. A wave of exhaustion washed over him and he pulled her closer, smiling when she snuggled in to his side. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Slept.

  Chapter Five

  When Annabeth woke up early the next afternoon, she smelled coffee and heard movement in the kitchen. She blinked in the bright sunlight, wondering how long Eric had been up.

  It occurred to her that she hadn’t taken a sleeping pill the night before, and this shocked her. For the past three years, she had only ever had a full night’s sleep with the help of drugs. But last night, she had just fallen asleep and slept well – no nightmares – and soundly. She felt energized and fresh.

  Alive.

  She crept out of bed and in to the bathroom. Every muscle in her body was loose and tension-free and she smiled at herself in the mirror. She put on her bathrobe and belted it around her waist, then wandered out in to the kitchen.

  Eric turned and saw her, his naked chest broad and gorgeous in the sun. “Good afternoon.”

  “Hi.”

  “Coffee’s ready, so help yourself.”

  “OK.”

  As she passed him, he held his arm in front of her, blocking her path. He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers. His eyes were serious and watchful.

  “You OK, angel?”

  “Yeah,” she said surprised, touched. “I really am.”

  He nodded and let her go.

  “Hey,” she said, spotting the wildflowers from the night before on the counter. “You found a new vase.”

  “Yeah, I went and got the one from my cabin,” he said. “Seemed a shame not to have flowers with our coffee.”

  She gazed at the red blossoms and then kissed him. “You’re right. Flowers go with everything.”

  “OK, go sit. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She took her coffee to the sofa and watched him move around the kitchen. He was so sexy, it was astonishing. Just the sight of his naked chest made her breath start to hitch. How on earth was he still single?

  Eric sat next to her and thought how stunning she was, with her blue eyes bright in the light, her blonde hair tousled from their exertions the night before. Her body was a dream to touch, and being inside her was the kind of thing that made him want to try his hand at poetry for the first time in his life. She was amazing.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” she said.

  “Are you serious?’ he said. “After all the personal stuff we did and talked about last night?”

  She blushed and he thought that the pink in her cheeks was adorable.

  “Sure, honey. As personal as you like.”

  “Have you ever been married?” Annabeth said.

  “No. I got close once.” He took a sip of coffee. “But she backed out.”

  “Why?”

  “We’d been together for about two years before we got engaged, and she never could handle my being a cop. The hours, the stress of not knowing if I was OK. And it’s the kind of job that you bring home with you, whether you mean to or not.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I know a thing or two about being involved with a man with a dangerous job.”

  Just in time, Eric stopped himself from saying, ‘Yeah, Cam was a firefighter, right?’ He knew all about Cam, of course; she’d written about him extensively. But he wasn’t meant to know anything about Cam, and his near-error sent a chill down his body.

  OK, remember… you don’t know anything about this guy. So ask.

  “Oh, yeah? Was he a cop, too?”

  “No. Cam was a firefighter.”

  “That’s one dangerous, stressful job.”

  “Very. I remember many nights when he’d be called out to something big and I just sat up all night, watching the news and hoping he was OK.”

  “Is that how he died? At work?”

  “No.” She shook her head and looked down at her wedding ring. “No. It was a car accident.”

  He knew the whole story, of course, but he thought she might want to talk about Cam. Today was, after all, the anniversary of his death.

  “Do you want to talk about him, Annabeth?” he asked quietly.

  She looked up at him. “I – I do.”

  He nodded. “OK. Tell me about Cam.”

  “About Cam.” She was silent for a minute. “Well. We met at the hospital. He was there visiting a firefighter who’d been injured. I was there for chemotherapy.”

  Even though he knew this about her, Eric still stiffened. He hated to think of how much pain she had been in, how terrified she must have been.

  “I had leukemia, and I was on my second round of chemo. I was in the cafeteria reading a magazine and drinking tea and he saw me. I had lost my hair by then and I just felt so old and ugly and tired, you know? But he told me later that he thought I was the strongest, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in the whole of his life.”

  Eric smiled. He loved seeing her like this: her face soft with the joy of memory. He knew this whole story, of course; she’d written about it on her blog. But there was just something so pure and perfect about hearing it told in her own voice, those amazing blue eyes bright and calm.

  “He approached me, asked if he could join me for lunch. I said OK, and that was how it all began, really. He asked me on a date almost right away, and I was so surprised, I agreed before I even really knew what I was saying. And when I got all flustered and tried to change my mind, he wouldn’t let me back out.”

  “Good man.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Anyway, he was there for me through it all – the treatments and the days I couldn’t physically get out of bed. He never let me even think about giving up. He – he pulled me through. Every once in a while, I’d get really negative and tell him that he was wasting his time with me. That he should go and find a healthy woman who didn’t go back and forth to the hospital, someone he could take for dinner and go dancing with.”

  “What did Cam say?”

  “He told me he’d do all those things soon enough… with me.”

  Eric smiled again. He had liked Cam for a long while now, and he just liked him more and more all the time.

  “The day after I was told that I was in remission, he took me to Paris. Proposed. He told me later that he’d bought that ring a year before, and he had just held on to it. Waiting.” She shook her head. “We were married for only four years. It wasn’t nearly enough time.”

  “Is it OK for me to
ask how – how he died?”

  She took a deep breath. “It was kind of like your shooting… just random and a fluke. He wasn’t even working. He went out to buy ice cream and got hit by a drunk driver. The guy pushed his car in to oncoming traffic and he was hit three times. No – no hope. The cop who came to tell me the news told me Cam wouldn’t have felt a thing.”

  Eric had been on many such calls to people’s homes, and he had often told the devastated, stricken person who answered the door that their loved one had gone painlessly. He was not always totally sure that was true, but he knew they needed to believe it.

  “It’s so bizarre, in a way,” Annabeth said. “For years – years – I expected to hear that knock at my door and see a cop standing there with the news that my husband was dead. But I only ever thought that when Cam was at work. It never, not even once, crossed my mind to worry about that knock when he was driving to work, or from the post office. Or to the grocery store.”

  He nodded.

  “I wasn’t prepared, you see.” She sighed. “I thought I was, but when the knock came, it was a – a shock. You know? All I could think was, ‘You shouldn’t be here, knocking on my door! Cam isn’t even at work! How can he be dead if he’s not at work?’” She looked at Eric. “I know it makes no sense, but I guess I just honestly always believed that if fire didn’t get him, then nothing else on earth ever could. Some days I’m still amazed that it wasn’t fire.”

  He took her hand, rubbing his thumb against her palm gently.

  “Are you going to be OK today?” he asked. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

  Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

  “No, I don’t mean – we don’t have to spend all day in bed. I mean… I can stay here. On the sofa. We can talk. I’ll be here if you want me to be, honey.”

  Annabeth felt a wave of longing come over her. It was tempting, so tempting, to say yes. To just curl up against him, let that warm voice wash away her fears. To take him back to her bed and find release and a kind of escape from the approaching darkness. She’d feel everything with Eric, and that’s exactly what she didn’t want right now. She had to stop feeling; she had to stop participating in life.