by Shey Stahl
When I finally did look up, he was there, sitting against the wall with his gloves beside him, un-taping his hands, the white tape in a pile beside his thigh.
He heard the door open and looked up at me, his eyes traveling slowly up my body as my skin heated under his scorching gaze. He let out a long sigh when we looked at each other, a smile playing at his lips. “Hey.”
What did that sigh mean? What did that stare mean? Did he regret it?
Just hearing his voice, immediately images of Monday night flooded my head.
“Hey.” I said, returning the smile and sat next to him on the floor making sure my elbow touched his. “I, uh…” for some reason I thought I needed to explain myself for my actions Monday night. “I don’t normally act like that. Must have been the vodka.”
“Don’t make an excuse.” He sounded almost irritated that I would. Then I felt bad. “You weren’t that drunk.”
“No… I suppose I wasn’t.”
Destry breathed, slow and deep but kept his eyes on the ground. “Do you regret it?” He asked, quietly, with a vulnerability I wouldn’t have expected from him.
“No.” I don’t either. Not in the slightest. “But I also don’t want the awkwardness that seems to be floating around us.”
He nodded, tossing the remaining piece of tape aside and then his hand rose to run up and down his jaw, as though he was thinking. When I looked over at him, waiting for him to say something, Destry laughed, lightly and then took a deep breath. “Well, let’s get started then. I’m sure I can make you forget about the awkwardness.”
So he didn’t want awkwardness. I was cool with that because it seemed it was everywhere.
We started the workout with arms, alternating bench press, resistance band, free weights, pull ups, arm curls, and rope climbing. That part I did not enjoy in the slightest. He worked my ass off. My muscles were shaking, I was sweating so bad and my skin felt like it was two hundred degrees. Part of me didn’t want him seeing me all hot and sweaty like this but his eyes were never far from my body. It gave me little hope that it didn’t bother him.
Despite working my ass off, believe me when I say I watched Destry closely, wondering what he was thinking and if he regretted anything we did the other night. I doubted he did but I still couldn’t help myself from being curious about it. He asked me if I regretted it, but I hadn’t asked him.
Did he?
My mind wouldn’t stop.
As I sat there against the wall, trying to catch my breath, Destry approached scratching his bare stomach with casualness, he smiled a beaming smile His head tipped to the door. “Let’s go for a walk to stretch out your muscles a little.”
“I can’t run.” I stood when he reached out and helped me up. “Please don’t make me.”
“Promise, no run. Just walking.”
Watching him now, his stare on my body, I felt something more than I had in the past few years. Something stirring deep inside my gut, only it was different from all the other times. This time I was content, relaxed, and comfortable not knowing anything that could, or would happen. For a girl like me, that was rare. I had to know, but this, I was leaving it up to chance. I had no idea how Destry felt about what we did, and now, strangely enough, I was okay with that.
We ended up going for a walk, at night again. I was starting to enjoy the late night in the city. He took me up the pier instead of back to the bar, our walk slowed to a dawdling pace when our feet hit the wooden planks of the pier. A steady but easy mist started to fall but it felt good on my skin, refreshing. After all the sweating I’d done, I could taste the salt on my lips when the rain hit my skin.
He pointed toward Pier 57 brushing his damp hair from his face. “I once jumped off that pier.” He chuckled, leaning over the cracked wood and peering at the darkness below. “Broke my damn arm.”
I stopped beside him, our forearms touching. I inhaled, cool salty air. “How’d you break your arm?” On the water, lights flickered over the Elliott Bay creating a peaceful night, one I was used to seeing.
Destry pointed below. “There’s rocks down there.”
“Oh,” I peeked over the side to see the shadows of large black rocks. I knew there was but most of the time the water was plenty deep enough to avoid them. “How exactly did you manage that?”
“I was ten.” He shrugged hanging onto the rail and then leaning back to stretch his arms, his muscles flexing as he did so. “I didn’t know you couldn’t jump straight down.”
That didn’t surprise me. Destry seemed very much a daredevil. The kind of guy who would try anything at least once.
I’m not sure what changed in our relationship or if you could even classify anything we had as a relationship, but for the first time since I’d met him, he spoke about his dad that night. “My dad and I used to run that very same route we took.” He shook his head, solemnly, but he seemed relaxed as he spoke. “Three times a week, rain or shine, it was our thing.”
I knew enough from my research the last few days that James Stone, Destry’s father, was still alive but in an assisted living facility since he retired from boxing eight years ago.
“Are you close with your parents?”
He seemed almost caught off guard by my question and reluctant to answer, for a moment. “My mom, she left when I was seven or eight. I don’t really remember. She split about the time my dad started trying to drink himself numb. And my dad… he’s not really around. He’s not the same anymore. When he got sick… well, he’s just not himself anymore. Not only did he never take care of his disease but he’s mentally gone.” Destry’s eyes were distant as he spoke, focused on the water. “It feels like he’s already gone.”
“What happened?” I asked hesitantly wondering at what point he would shut down and tell me to mind my own business.
His shoulders slump as he leans over the wooden rail. “When I was thirteen he was diagnosed with acromegaly.”
“What’s that?” There wasn’t any information online as to why James stepped away from boxing, just that he did. I had no idea what the reasoning was and I’d certainly never heard of this disease Destry was telling me he suffered from.
Destry stood straighter running his left hand from his hair and then replacing it on the rail. “It’s a disease that results when your pituitary gland produces too much growth hormone. He has a pituitary tumor that caused it. He also has diabetes as a result.”
“It causes diabetes?”
Destry shrugged. “Not always but it’s common. That’s not what’s really given him trouble though. Acromegaly causes your body to grow, from the growth hormone. Even your internal organs grow. It’s not uncommon for them to have cardiovascular problems. He had a stroke about six months ago and he can’t even remember my name let alone who I am. Totally sucks.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged again. “Nothing you can do about it.”
“So where is he now?”
“He’s in a home in Bellevue where they can help him. An assisted living center. I go see him on Mondays and Wednesdays.”
“Did he retire because of the disease?”
“Partly. It was argued that he had an unfair advantage because of the growth hormone being produced in his body. But in the end, he walked away on his own.” Destry sighed leaning forward on the rail again, his eyes distant.
Maybe I’d overstepped there. Although I couldn’t believe how open and honest he was with me all of a sudden.
He turned and nodded, “Let’s get back.”
We left and went back to the bar and downstairs to the basement when I reached for my bag. Part of me was anxious about leaving him now.
Honestly, I wanted to get down on my knees and beg him for a repeat.
I stood from the floor and reached for my bag, unsure of what he’d say next. “We finished?”
“No, we’re not finished.” Destry moved away from the wall and locked the door. “We’re definitely not finished for the night.”
&
nbsp; Thank you, Jesus!
When he stepped towards me, I had to put my hands up. “I don’t want to do it in the ring again. I have burns on my ass from that damn thing.”
“A bed I can do,” he said against the sensitive skin of my neck just below my ear.
I would do anything he wanted right then. Anything.
“Your apartment, or mine?” He asked taking a step toward me.
I practically jumped in his arms. “Mine. It’s closer.”
Thank God Jared wasn’t there because by the time we arrived at my apartment, we were so worked up we were knocking over pictures, ran into the coffee table, dry humped against the wall and broke a cup.
Destry was all hands on and pushing me inside my bedroom door trying to rip away my clothes and his, only I was in desperate need of a shower. “I should shower.”
“I could join you.” He suggested hungrily, kissing up and down my neck. “Nah, no shower. I can’t fucking wait any longer.”
“Sure you can…” I said pushing him back against my bed. His shirt was gone, mine was ripped and his shorts were already half off, his erection evident. I still had my yoga pants on but those were being pushed off by needy hands.
“No. Fuck the shower.” He sat up wrapping his hands around my waist and bringing my center to his face. “I can’t. I don’t care if you’re sweaty. I need you… right now.”
There was really no denying him when he grabbed my legs behind my knees and made me straddle him. Lying back on the bed he rocked my hips against his, sliding me along his erection. Groaning, his head tipped back, the tendons in his neck evident.
Destry was anything but gentle. And I wasn’t looking for gentle when I was with him. I think he understood that. I was looking for what this heavyweight could provide.
His kiss was so damn consuming at times, like he was breathing life back into me.
Everything felt completely different this time and then my reality came crashing back. For one, I wasn’t drunk. I kept trying to cover myself up, hide what he was seeing but he kept moving my hands aside and getting frustrated that I would even hide myself from him.
“Don’t hide from me.” He pulled back to look at me, my entire body trembled, and to be fair, his breathing was rather heavy, his eyes extremely hooded, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “I like women, not little girls.”
He had a point there, but it still wasn’t easy for me. It never would be. I had this idea of what I should look like, what Destry would want someone to look like, what Silas would, and I wasn’t anywhere near that image.
He smiled back at me, his eyes dropping to my lips. “You’re beautiful.”
My cheeks flushed and I think he was aware of the fact that I thought he was just saying that to say it. Like I was expecting him to say it.
His fingers raised my chin. “I fucking mean it.”
It wasn’t exactly a graceful moment of mine but I went to roll off him, and get this show on the road after hearing all that when I rolled right off my own bed.
That did nothing to distract Destry. Made him chuckle, but he helped me up and laid me flat on my mattress hovering over me.
“Condom?”
I nodded. “They’re in the nightstand… but I’m on the pill. And clean. Are you?”
“I was tested a few months ago. Clean.”
He was apparently okay with that and nothing more was said as he yanked his shorts down in one fluid movement and leaned back on his heel, jerking me off the bed and back to straddling his hips, my legs resting on either side on him. “Fuck me, Tallan.” His left hand reached between us and slipped himself inside and then rolled us so I was on top of him. The moment I felt him inside of me again, I never wanted it to end. It was like I couldn’t get enough of him. My body found something it actually craved.
“Mmm,” I moaned, wrapping my arms around his neck, his lips returning to mine. I did as he said, all the while he watched me with an unfamiliar intensity.
Fuck, what is happening to me? How the hell was he managing to do this to me and make me feel this?
Destry’s left hand moved from my hips and then rolled me over so he was on top of me. Soon his hands fisted my hair, and I was internally praising myself for the sounds he was making. He was obviously trying to restrain himself and it wasn’t working at all.
My eyelids clenched, and I felt my stomach tingle as Destry whispered in my ear. “You know how fucking insane you make me?” he growled, his teeth nipping at my heated wet skin as his hips forced my head into the wall. “Do you know?”
I smiled sliding my hands up his neck into his hair. “Maybe,” I breathed out, hopeful that it was the truth. I wanted to make a guy like Destry go insane because it seemed like an impossible feat.
“Maybe?” he echoed, pulling back, watching my eyes. His left eyebrow rose curiously. “Haven’t I made myself pretty clear here?”
I dragged my right hand from the back of his head, down his chest. “We’re here, aren’t we? But show me how insane I make you,” I whispered. “I want to know.”
Destry chuckled, shaking his head and catching my hand and putting it over my head to rest against the pillows. His hand gripped my wrist firmly while the other one stayed on my ass. The sounds he was making were coming from his chest, and I felt it resonating throughout me. He pushed harder, faster, leaning his forehead against my cheek, his hair falling in my eyes.
“Show me,” I said, untangling my hands from his. “Make me feel what I do to you.”
He laughed, a darker menacing laugh with undertones that seemed more threatening and less of a warning. He didn’t scare me, in fact it simply turned me on even more. “Don’t push me.” Destry closed his eyes and groaned. His head fell forward against my shoulder, and he shook it back and forth.
I did push because it was the only way I knew right now. With him, like this, beneath him, I pushed. He took a firm grasp on my hip with the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair bringing his soft wet lips down on my shoulder, biting and kissing his way along the top of my collarbone.
I pushed and he pinned, easily keeping my hands from him and overpowering me like only he could do. “Do you know what I’m capable of? The pain I can cause?” His breathing felt as shallow as my own. He was so far past being in control, every bit as defenseless and dependent as me.
There was something in his words I didn’t understand though. A deeper meaning. I had a feeling the pain he spoke of wasn’t physical.
Despite me pushing him, he moved at his own pace, holding me tight, dropping his voice as his body rocked against me. He knew exactly what he was doing. His words, his touch, his kisses were everywhere, showing me exactly what I had been missing and what I was now looking forward to every time I saw him.
It was somewhere after my third orgasm when I could tell he was moments away from his release by the tensed expression and lust-hooded eyes that held me in his grasp.
His hands came up to wrap around the back of my shoulders and pushed me down on him once more. With another forceful thrust, I could feel him releasing inside me as he bit down on my shoulder, crying out at the sheer force and magnitude of his orgasm. I tried to get a look at his face, but his head was buried in my neck, succumbed to the sensations rocking through him.
I wanted, no I needed, to see that glorious moment of release. I loved watching his contorted expression in the glimpse I got of it last night.
He groaned again as he buried his face in my neck and made me scream as his body shook above mine. Moaning, curving into me as his knees spread my legs farther, his hips jerked forward. I could feel him harden, still grunting in my ear as he trembled, his warmth filling me. “Fuck …”
I sighed, my mind completely swarming. I was afraid to move or even breathe. Staring at my ceiling, I waited for him to move, or say something. Raising my hand, I pushed my hair from my slick face.
Drawing in a shaky breath, he whispered, “A shower might be good now.” Still panting, he placed a row of soft te
nder kisses along my collarbone.
We both showered and that led to more sex, which I was okay with. I wasn’t sure if he would leave after that, but he surprised me when he laid on my bed, the moon light coming in through the cracks in the curtains since we’d been up most of the night fucking. When I glanced at him, I could vaguely make out his expression in the dim lighting.
Lying on his back, wearing his basketball shorts but no shirt, arms contently resting on his stomach, I studied his breathing searching for the unevenness I felt. His left hand rose to run through his hair, blinking he continued to stare at the ceiling. Damn it. I really wish I knew what he was thinking.
What really caught my attention was the intensity marking his stare as he focused on nothing in particular. There seemed to be a restlessness, a vulnerability that I might never understand. Seeing that, I couldn’t stop my mind from convincing me he’d regret what we’ve done.
Eventually his eyes drifted closed and I wondered if he was just going to sleep here. I wouldn’t care, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing as it usually did. Most of the time it took me hours after lying in bed to finally sleep. As quietly as I could, I pulled out my notebook and wrote down a few notes.
Eventually, my body succumbed to the long day and I got tired. Around four that morning I laid down on the bed next to him. Destry stirred, his eyes opening and searching mine.
When he looked over at me, those moments, this one right now whether you were in them or not, where you felt something more than what you intended to feel, more than what you wanted to feel, that was right now.
He was going to say something as he pushed my hair from my face but it seemed to take him a moment to find his voice.
“See you later tonight,” his voice was anxious as he whispered in my ear, then kissed my forehead. Moments later I heard my bedroom door open, the sting of his heated lips still lingering on my skin. He just left and with it took one more shred of doubt with him as I worried about what I was doing in this situation.