by Amelia Wilde
Her mouth quirks in a smile. “We had some good times, back in the day.”
“I’ll never forget you falling off that bike. Stone-faced. Hard as nails.”
Reggie laughs. “It hurt like hell.”
“Yeah, but you never cried,” I tell her, sitting up and nudging her with my elbow in the process. I should stay the hell away, but I can’t.
“There wasn’t much to cry about when we were together,” she says, a little wistfully, and then covers it with another laugh. “That old house was perfect for a couple of stupid kids.”
“Yeah.” The mention of the house is like a cloud covering the sun. “I’ve got to get rid of it.”
“But why?” Reggie’s voice is just like it was back when we were best friends. The hard edge is gone. She’s just asking me, like she would ask me other things. It has the same tone as where’s the milk? or, can I put this sweatshirt in the dryer?
“Why would I want to keep it?” Hot anger flares in my gut. “My dad’s house? He was a piece of shit.” I shake my head. “He didn’t want me when he was alive. I have no idea why he’d want me to have his house.” I have to work to keep my jaw unclenched. “It’s like he’s trying to saddle me with it from beyond the grave. I’d rather burn it down.”
Reggie purses her lips, and I wouldn’t swear to it, but I think I see sympathy in her eyes. As much as I can see of her eyes, anyway, because she’s still looking pointedly at the creek. “Maybe it’s hard to appreciate it now,” she says, her voice measured. “But there were a lot of good memories there.” It’s like she wants to say more, but saying more is too dangerous, even for Reggie. “It’s a beautiful house, Adam. Why would you give up such a nice place just because he was a dick?” She swallows hard. “We had a lot of good times there. And even if you don’t have a single good memory left from that time, you could make some new ones.”
Then she reaches for my hand.
14
Regina
I close my eyes. I’m not thinking. But I am feeling.
His hand twitches under mine, like he is trying to grip the ground tighter. I know he’s turned to stare at me, but I am watching my hand with a sort of detached fascination as it closes over his. The warmth of his skin under my still-cool hand seems to melt into me, and I swear I can feel his pulse jumping nervously. Or maybe it’s mine.
He makes a small sound, like an inrush of breath, and then slowly turns his hand over. For a second, we stay that way, motionless, palm to palm, and then slowly, like he’s afraid of startling me, he starts to enclose my hand in his.
“Reg—” I don’t think he means to say my name, and that’s what makes it so much better.
“Adam,” I swallow, and saying his name feels different somehow, like I’m breaking some kind of inner taboo. That same sliding looseness that I felt on the boulder the night of the reunion, only magnified tenfold. I inhale sharply and my chest expands, and suddenly it’s like I’m able to breathe too deeply. I gulp in a great lungful of air, high off the sudden rush of oxygen that makes everything brighter and more real.
“You—” he starts to say, and then something flickers across his face. He looks down at our entwined hands again, and then suddenly he pulls me to him.
I slam into his side and blink up at the warm brown of his eyes, so comforting and familiar, but the expression on his face is one I’ve never seen before. Or if I have, I haven’t let myself think about what it means.
“Adam, we should…” I don’t know what I’m about to say, but it doesn’t matter, because whatever it was is swallowed up in a gasp when his mouth claims mine.
The gasp turns into a moan as I part my lips eagerly, because kissing Adam is something I’ve been fighting against for sixteen years. Letting myself melt into him feels like the kind of surrender I should be fighting against, but it’s so much easier to press my body to his and let his hand wander up and sink into my hair. It’s so much easier to let him move my head, tilting to deepen the kiss, his tongue melding and dancing with mine. In the back of my mind, I feel weak for giving in, but that weakness makes me giddy. That devilish thrill of indulging after abstaining so long.
Kissing him wrecks everything I’ve worked so hard for, but nothing feels better than smashing all that progress to smithereens.
I squeeze my eyes shut. The sound of the rushing water fills my head but the rest of my senses belong to him. The feel of his sun-warmed skin under my fingers, the taste of his lips. When I breathe, my lungs are filled with the scents of pine and chlorophyll, but over everything is the clean scent of Adam, so familiar and so missed. If I open my eyes right now, they’d be wet with tears, so I keep them closed and keep kissing him, almost afraid to stop.
“Regina…” I feel, rather than hear, my name on his lips as he pulls back, moving over me so that I bend back on my elbows. The sun makes his blond hair a gilded halo, backlighting him so I cannot fully see his face, but then I blink and a tear falls, and I can see him clearly now. Another flicker of something passes across his eyes. I think he might say something when he reaches up to touch his finger to the wet trail down my cheek. I brace myself for him to remind me of what I said the afternoon we first met, when he carefully bandaged my knee, showing more attention and worry for me than my own family ever had. I’d lifted my chin at him and told him that I never cried.
I don’t cry.
I have no idea what’s happening to me right now.
His finger on my cheek is so tender that another tear falls. Emotion I’ve been running from, literally running, mile after mile, is catching up to me all at once. “I never stopped thinking about you,” Adam says, so softly I can barely hear him over the falls.
“You shouldn’t have left me,” I tell him.
He nods, casting his eyes down for a second because he knows I am not whining. I am not trying to make him feel guilty because the years I spent hating him made me strong enough to be with him now. “I shouldn’t have,” he agrees, just as quiet and matter-of-fact as me. He does not try to defend himself. “But I am here now…”
I lick my lips and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “You are…”
“No more wasted time, Reggie.” He bends and brushes his lips to kiss my wet cheek. I close my eyes again as his lips trace the trail up, kissing my eye, then across the bridge of my nose to the birthmark under my right eye. “Nothing after you ever felt…” he inhales a little, a slight hitching in his chest, and I gasp as his lips move to my neck. My pulse thuds in my ears as he kisses and then sucks, gently at first, but when I tilt my head, I feel a vibration as a low growl rumbles up from his throat and suddenly I am flat on my back, his weight crushing me into the rock, and Adam is kissing me so hard that it takes my breath away.
15
Adam
This is what I wanted, a million years ago, back in that chapel that smelled like polished wood pews and something old and mysterious. If that statue hadn’t gone crashing to the ground, I’d have had Reggie on her back just like this, on the floor in front of the altar. This wide rock that we’re on right now, her body moving against mine, seems a thousand times holier than the church ever could have.
It comes to my mind absently that if we’d been able to do this on that day, I’d have worshipped there for the rest of my life.
Reggie’s arms go around my neck as I kiss her, holding tight, and she’s so warm compared to my frigid skin that it feels like we’re both on fire. I’m kissing her like I’ve never kissed anyone, wild and hard, completely myself. For once, I’m not putting on a show. Either that, or I’m putting on the best show of my life.
She tastes so good that an ache spreads in my chest. It’s so strong that it feels like I might have a heart attack. What the fuck have I been doing, all these years? Why the hell have I been wasting so much time not kissing her? It’s a bright, powerful surge underneath my skin, and suddenly I can’t stand that we’re fully clothed. Reggie moans again, lifting her hips toward me, and damn it, I’m not going t
o turn down that invitation. I’m not going to turn it down ever again.
I abandon her lips with a wrenching in my soul, but I know she’s going to like this. I know she is. One quick movement and I’m moving down on the rock, just enough.
“Adam—”
I grin up at her. “Do you want everybody to hear?”
Her eyes go wide for a split second, and then she gives me a look that’s an inferno of pure need and anticipation. She’s wearing these exercise capris, a spandex number with a little pink line running through the waistband. I only see it because I’m busy yanking them down, tearing them off of her knees. Her shoes go with them and she gasps, sitting up a little, bracing against the surface of the rock, but then I’ve got my hands on her hips. The instant I touch her, she relaxes. I heave myself up again for another kiss, nipping at her lip, but I don’t stop there.
I trail my lips down the side of her neck, down to her collarbone, and Reggie drops her head back, eyes closed against the sunlight trickling through the leaves. Her breasts rise and fall, every breath almost a gasp, and when I swirl my tongue around one of her nipples, I feel all of her respond, leaning in toward me like she just can’t tear herself away.
Same with her belly button, and by the time I’m there, I can’t wait any longer. I tip her back against the rock and spread her sweet thighs just like I have always wanted. Since before that day in the chapel even, but how was I supposed to admit that to myself after the chance had been lost.
“Wait,” she breathes.
“Not a chance.” Then I dip my head between those thighs and lick along the length of her.
It takes one stroke, and she’s melting under my touch, her sweetness against my tongue. She exhales sharply like she’s trying not to make a sound, and my cock pulses painfully against my shorts. Holy shit. Holy shit, it’s the sexiest non-sound I’ve ever heard. Her thighs tense near my head while I do the most important work of my life. This is worshipping. This is fucking Holy Communion.
But I can’t leave it at that. I don’t know what I thought—maybe I thought that I’d be able to stop myself once I started, but Reggie’s hips are rocking against my mouth even as I try to hold her still, just a little bit of pressure for her to buck against. She would like this. She can still pretend to be in control, but she doesn’t have to be. I know it all on instinct, like I know that the sun will rise in the east and the food at Bob and Lou’s would always be served cold no matter how much you begged them to heat it up.
I want to hear Reggie beg.
When I pull my head away she whimpers, just a little, and my heart fucking sings. She’s on her back, on this rock, waiting for me, and she wants me as much as I want her. In this moment, all of that other bullshit has fallen away. She opens her eyes and there is nothing but desire there, deep wells like I’ve never seen on another woman. All those other women had their eyes on my wallet.
My shorts are wet from falling in the fucking river and gravity helps pull them to the ground. Reggie pushes herself up on her elbows, biting her lip, and takes me in.
By the look on her face, she likes what she sees.
I don’t give her more time than that, because all of me is screaming with the need to be inside of her. Another moment and I’m back on top of her, and she threads one arm around my neck and one arm between us, working down toward my cock.
Her face is inches from mine, but she doesn’t close her eyes, doesn’t flinch away. She looks right back at me, and I feel like I’m flying. Her breath is hot on my jawline. I don’t feel nervous at all until I do, until a cold flash of pure anxiety twists my gut. What if she doesn’t want this? What if this is all a misunderstanding, a mistake?
“Adam,” she says, her voice low and smooth.
I put a hand on her hair, smoothing it back. Can we freeze this? Can we stay just like this, in this moment, forever? I’m so damn lost in it that I forget what I was going to say. “Yeah?”
She leans her head forward, just a couple of inches, so that her lips are next to my ear. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to die.”
It’s the most honest, unguarded thing I’ve ever heard her say, and after that, there’s nothing to do but give the lady what she wants. In the next instant, her hand wraps around me, and I make a sound like I’ve never heard myself make before. She guides me to her opening, all hot, all wet, and holy fuck, we’re not eighteen anymore, and she’s a force to be reckoned with.
So am I.
The head of my cock slides along her slit, but I pull her hand away, wrapping mine around her wrist. She’s smaller than I thought—her wrist seems delicate in my grip—but her hand clenches into a fist, and then she’s breathing in short little gasps, her lips slightly parted, blush rising to her cheeks. Reggie tests my grip, just a little, and moans.
I can’t help the absolutely wicked grin on my face. I can’t fucking help it at all. This is the kind of silent teasing, silent push and pull that we’ve always had together, only now it’s something bigger and sexier, and it’s like the undertow. The only solution is not to fight it.
Everything after that seems to happen all at once. I catch Reggie’s other wrist and pin them both above her head, against the smooth surface of the rock, and she arches back, hips begging me to fuck her, and I hesitate. I wait just one...more...second, then thrust forward with everything I have, sinking into her warmth. When we connect, it’s like a firework erupting in the night sky. It’s blinding.
I lose track of time. I lose track of everything except Reggie’s body moving against mine, her hips meeting every thrust. I don’t know how long it’s been when she pushes up against me with all her strength. I let her roll me over onto my back so that she’s riding me. It’s total abandon. I press my thumbs into her hipbones and let her energy rock through me. She’s stronger than I ever imagined...right up until I press one of those thumbs against her clit and move it in a practiced little circle. All of Reggie’s body clenches as she comes, her own hand over her mouth because she’s crying out and we’re in the middle of the woods, where anyone could see, only I don’t care and I don’t think she does either. The force of her orgasm pushes me over the edge and I lose it, right here on this rock, the sound of the falls ringing in my ears.
Reggie is graceful when she tries to catch her breath, rolling to the side and putting her head on my shoulder, tucking in like she’s always belonged here. She’s still trembling with the aftershocks.
I can’t help it. I don’t want this to end.
I press her into me and reach down between her legs. Just one more time for the road.
16
Regina
It’s like he knows me.
I giggle, because it’s a strange thought to have as I come down from the most incredible orgasm of my life. Well, orgasms.
Adam’s brown eyes twinkle up at me. “Did you just laugh?”
My head falls back and I stare up at the shards of blue sky through the trees, and my face hurts from smiling so hard. It's not like I've been a nun all these years, but this was on another level entirely from my random, meaningless hookups with co-workers. “It’s like you knew exactly what to do,” I exhale.
Yeah, he looks pretty proud of himself right now, but two orgasms back to back have me feeling magnanimous, so I don’t tease him when he says, “What can I say? I know you.”
I laugh again, because that’s exactly what I was thinking. He knows me and I know him. We’re best friends...more than that, it would seem, and we know everything about each other, except...
“I know you, too. But didn’t know you could do that,” I sigh contentedly.
He rolls over, resting his head on my stomach and grinning at me. “Maybe I am glad that we waited until I knew what I was doing,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “If things had gone the way I wanted to that day in the chapel, I don’t think you’d be as impressed.”
At the mention of the chapel, I feel myself stiffen. He feels it, too, and pulls back, eyes darti
ng across my face. “See, there it is again,” he says, raising an accusing finger.
“There what is?” I ask, trying like hell to keep my tone light.
But Adam isn’t fooled for a second. “Just now. It happened just now. You hated me just now.”
I pull my knees up to my chest and hug myself tight. “I don’t hate you.”
“Well, no, I mean how could you?” he says with a sarcastic glint in his eyes as he traces a line up my thigh with his finger. I wrinkle my nose at him and he shakes his head. “Tell me, Reggie,” he begs, suddenly earnest. “Ever since I got here, I’ve been seeing it.” He narrows his eyes. “You might think you’re the stoic type, but sweetheart, your emotions are written all over your face.”
“They are not!”
He smiles. “They are. And the one I keep seeing is you hating me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I repeat sullenly, but I can’t meet his eyes any more.
“Maybe it’s not hate,” he relents. “But you’re pissed. And it’s more than just me leaving.” He reaches up and traces my cheek, tipping my face so that I have to turn and look at him again. “Tell me, Reggie. Because I feel something bad happened to you, and it’s driving me nuts not to know what it is.”
I swallow and close my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Liar,” he murmurs.
“But the chapel.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have asked you to steal that statue with me. I’m sorry, Reg, it was a stupid college bet. Gideon was egging me on, and….”
“No.” I interrupt him, and open my eyes. “It’s what happened afterward.”