by J. L. Berg
It had torn me up.
So, my mouth had opened, words had begun to spill from it, and soon, I had asked her to spend a night with me. Again.
One unforgettable night.
We both knew it would never be enough.
I could spend a thousand nights with this woman and still be ravenous for her touch, parched for the sweet taste of her lips, and begging for comfort only she could offer.
But none of it mattered now.
What had been offered was quickly rejected, and now, I was sitting alone in the yellow room, like I had done every other night since I arrived home.
Home.
What a ridiculous word.
It was said that home was where your heart was.
Where was my heart? Here? Chicago? Somewhere in between?
Maybe nowhere.
Perhaps this room was my home. Its sunny-yellow walls, so bright with promise and possibilities. They haunted me with what could have been.
What would have been.
This whole damn island did.
But, unlike the faded blue house of my youth, I found comfort within these four walls. I rediscovered old memories that brought smiles instead of tears, laughter instead of pain.
So, for now at least, this was where I’d remain until I was ready to face the rest of it. I’d drown in the warmth of these walls until I found the strength I’d left somewhere in my past.
Even if I had to do it alone.
I heard the door creak open around sunset. I’d given up on reading and called it a night about fifteen minutes prior. Island life was turning me into a boring old man, but after another long day at the clinic, I welcomed the idea of sleep.
That was, until I heard a light knock at the door as light spilled in from the hallway.
Sitting up, I caught the shadow of Molly’s slim figure as she slipped inside. She carried a plate of food and a steaming mug into the darkened room.
But we both knew why she was visiting me.
“I brought you some leftover pie I had Millie set out tonight while I was at the hospital.”
My eyes widened, waiting for an answer as I checked her for any bumps or bruises.
“I was visiting Dean,” she clarified.
Settling slightly, I reached for the dish she held out to me and watched as she set the steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand next to me.
“How is he?” I asked, afraid to broach the subject.
“Good,” she answered. “He met a nurse. He’s pretty smitten with her.”
My brow rose in surprise as I took the first bite of peach pie, nearly weeping with joy as the combination of sweet and tart hit my taste buds. “He what?”
“I think he’s got a little crush. Maybe a Florence Nightingale thing,” she explained. “Or who knows? Maybe it’s the real deal. Either way, he was smiling for the first time in weeks.”
“That’s a definite improvement,” I agreed before asking tentatively, “How are you handling it? The other-woman thing, I mean? Even if it’s a crush, it must hurt a little?”
She broke eye contact with me, scanning the walls, and she took her time perusing the familiar paintings that lined them. Finally, when she had enough time to stew over the question, she answered, “I think you and I both know that Dean and I would never have made it to the altar. Was I upset that he’d sent his mother over here to dump me? Sure. Any woman would be, but after the liquor cleared my system, I realized it was my pride more than my heart that was truly wounded. And that…well, that just wasn’t right, you know?”
I didn’t expect she wanted an answer, so I didn’t throw one out. Instead, I reached for the coffee, letting the heat warm my body, as my eyes lingered on her.
“Why are you here, Molly?” I finally asked, setting the half-eaten pie and cup down on the nightstand beside me.
“You know why,” she answered, her blue irises searing a hole into mine.
“I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want to hear you say it.”
She took a deep breath, her breasts rising as her lungs filled with air. The loose-fitting tank top she wore did little to cover the tiny movement, and I was instantly captivated.
So much so that I felt my fingers ball into tight fists at my sides, trying to keep myself from leaping across the bed and ripping that flimsy piece of fabric from her body.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
This had to be her choice.
She’d come to me, and now, I wanted to see her follow through with that decision. I wanted to hear the words. I needed to hear her say how much she wanted me in this moment, even if it only lasted through the night.
She took a seat on the bed, her bare knee brushing mine. “I didn’t want to feel this way,” she began. “The moment you stepped back in town, I wanted to hate you, Jake. You tore my heart out the day you left. But I can’t deny the feelings I still have for you, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend like it’s some stupid itch that needs to be scratched.”
I looked away.
“And, if this means I’ll hurt ten times more tomorrow, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she continued, reaching out to grasp my chin. She turned my head back, so our eyes met once more. “But I won’t blame it on you,” she vowed. “Not anymore. I’m not that tearful girl on the dock watching you sail away. And I know what I want.”
My eyes squeezed shut as I contemplated what I was doing.
I’d never known she was there that morning when I left Ocracoke all those years ago.
Had I known, would I have made the same decision?
Yes.
The sad truth was, I would have looked at her tear-soaked face and turned the other way until my feet were planted firmly on that ferry in the middle of the ocean. I hadn’t cared about anyone back then, except for myself and my own preservation.
Was it any different now?
“Are you sure, Molly?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at it before I added, “You know I’m not staying. I’m going to find someone to replace me in a couple of months, maybe sooner. I have a job to return to in Chicago.”
Her demeanor changed just then—from soft and comfortable to something a bit more edgy. “You don’t think I know that, Jake? You don’t think I’ve already figured out that, given the opportunity, you’ll be on the first ferry out of this place? I know you just as well as you assume to know me. And I’ll be fine by the way. I watched you walk away once before. I think I’ve gotten the hang of it by now.”
“You still haven’t said it,” I reminded her. If I was going to be the heartless rat bastard who slept with his ex, I might as well play the part.
Rather than roll her eyes, which was her typical move, she bent forward on her hands and knees, giving me the perfect view of a barely there lace bra as she moved closer. I felt movement down below as my dick stirred to life at the tiniest glimpse of her breasts as she brought herself in front of me. Her hot breath on my neck sent shivers up my spine, causing all sorts of things in my body to stand at attention.
“What exactly do you want me to say? Oh, yes,” she said softly, her mouth mere inches from mine. “I want you, Jake Jameson. I want you to fu—”
I couldn’t handle it anymore. One more word, and I’d fucking blow right here. How many hours—hell, days had I thought about this?
Throwing my hand over her rosy-red lips, I lifted her with the other, causing a giddy yelp to escape her as I flipped her underneath me.
Her eyes widened as she came in full contact with my body and everything she’d done to it. No witty comeback for that. Instead, I felt her melt, limb by limb, as my hand left her mouth to rediscover everything I’d missed over the last twelve years.
She did the same, her hands grazing the pecs of my bare chest, across my arms, and down my back. “You’re different,” she whispered.
“Different bad?” I asked, placing a tender kiss along her collarbone.
“Different good,” s
he explained. “Less gangly boy, more beefy man.”
I grinned, my hand skimming her thigh.
“You’re the same,” I said, her eyes meeting mine. “But the same in a good way,” I amended. “The first time I saw you again, I swore you hadn’t aged a day. And this body?” I said. “It still feels just as amazing.”
She shook her head as we continued to just touch and roam each other’s body. It was as if we’d been holding back from doing so for so long that the simple act was enough. For now.
“Believe me, I’ve changed. I see that change in the mirror every day,” she replied, her fingertips brushing my bare stomach.
“I don’t see it,” I said. “I only see you—the crazy girl who went back to the bait shop and left money on the counter when she realized she’d walked out with two lollipops instead of one.”
“I felt terrible!” She laughed.
“Most people wouldn’t have bothered. They were five cents each. You had to ride your bike all the way across the island.”
“Mr. Marco still tries to give me a free one every time I go in there.”
“And I bet you leave five cents every time he does.”
“No,” she argued before adding, “I leave ten. He marked them up. Inflation and all that.”
We laughed, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in each other.
No strings, no complications.
Just the two of us.
It was a lie we’d allow ourselves to indulge in for the night.
But, soon, cuddling and reminiscing over the past wasn’t enough. Soon, the small talk and the feather light touch of fingertips and hands had us both antsy for more.
And, God, did I want more.
My nose brushed hers as her gaze found mine. Her breath quickened as I leaned down ever-so slowly. It was torture, no doubt. But, sometimes, agony was worth the reward. Her fingers dug into the sheets next to mine. I hovered there, our lips nearly touching, the sweet air from our lungs joining a mere second before our mouths finally touched.
A content sigh fell from her lips as our kiss deepened. A flick of her tongue against mine, and I was damn near gone. My hands were everywhere—under her tank top, tugging at the waistband of her tiny shorts.
I just wanted it all gone and nothing between us but skin and sweat.
She obviously understood my frantic movements because she began to aid me, lifting her arms as the tank top went up and over her head before falling to the floor. The same happened to the shorts as I dragged them down her silky legs, throwing them across the room so that I could get a look at what I’d uncovered.
“See? I told you—different,” she said, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
I watched as she tried to cover herself, something I immediately stopped.
“Maybe,” I answered, placing her nervous hands at her sides.
The purple lace bra I’d been admiring through her shirt moments earlier looked amazing close up. Sheer in all the right places, it gave tiny glimpses of her creamy white skin underneath.
Seeing the twin peaks of her rosy nipples had me salivating with need. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had sex. But, honestly, with Molly in front of me, it could have been a month ago or last week, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. All other women disappeared from memory when she was in my arms. Their faces, the sounds of their voices, or the way they’d laughed. No one else mattered but her.
I’d been delusional, believing anything else.
“Fine, I’ll agree,” I finally said after my eyes spent far too much time lingering over every inch of her skin. “You are different. But, like you said before, in regard to me, it’s in a good way. For example…”
My head dipped as her eyes fell on mine. I kept her gaze for as long as possible until I couldn’t wait any longer. Not even bothering with removing the bra, my mouth fell on her tender peak, and a long hiss of pleasure released from her lips. I sucked through the lace, loving the feel of her body moving beneath mine. Wrapping my large hand around her breast, I gently squeezed.
“These have greatly improved,” I said, grazing my teeth along the wet lace.
“You always loved my boobs.” She smiled as I looked up from my perch between her breasts.
“Oh, I did, and I still do. But I was a teenage boy. I would have given my left nut to touch any pair of tits. I really had nothing to compare them to.”
“And, now, you do?”
“Let’s just say, I’m much more appreciative now,” I replied, running my hands over her curves.
“Well, please,” she purred, “show me more of this newfound appreciation.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, using my best Southern accent.
She smiled in return as I bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. As always, it went from sweet to searing in mere seconds. Just as before, she began to tug at my clothes, and I gladly played along, thanking God I hadn’t bothered wearing a shirt to bed.
One less thing to worry about.
When I rose to my knees, she surprised me by reaching out for my flannel boxers. In high school, she’d always been slightly shy about touching me in this way. It was something we’d worked up to, but as was the prevailing theme of the evening, she’d changed.
For the better.
Her nails lightly scratched the skin underneath my waistband as she eased it down from my hipbone, sliding it oh so slowly.
It was the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever witnessed.
She took her time, her eyes lingering over my tight thighs, waist, and, yes, my dick. It stood proud, as if it were waiting to shake hands.
“Do you have—I mean—”
“I’m clean,” I said. “Tested every six months. I’ve seen and heard a lot of weird things being in the medical field, I—“
She held out her hand to stop me. “It’s fine Jake. You don’t have to explain yourself. One night, remember?”
I nodded.
This little bit of awkwardness had never been a thing between us before since we were each other’s one and only.
But, now…
“I’ll grab a condom…before,” I said, clarifying.
She nodded as I reached out and stroked her cheek. The movement seemed to break the spell, and I could see her coming back to me.
Her eyes flickered a dark flash in those bright blue irises, and her focus turned downward once more. She reached out for my cock, tentatively at first, and I almost wept with happiness. The moment the tips of her fingers fell on the silky, smooth skin of my cock, I swore I saw stars.
Then, she wrapped her whole hand around it and gave a few solid pumps.
“Jesus, Molly,” I cursed. “Save some of the fancy stuff for later. Too much of that right now, and I’ll fucking lose it before the party even starts.”
She gave me a wicked grin and slid her hand back and forth one more time as my head fell back in delirium.
Where had my sweet, innocent Molly gone? And who was the vixen who had replaced her?
She thought my words were just playful banter, but I was dead serious. I’d thought about this moment forever. In the shower, late nights in bed.
I was ready.
Too ready.
And, now that it was a reality, like hell I was going to lose it all over her guest sheets. At least, not the first time. Ready to take charge once again, I moved. Taking her by surprise, I grabbed her waist and flipped her underneath me.
If we had just tonight, I’d damn well spend every minute buried deep inside her.
Starting now.
She said nothing, her eyes never leaving mine as I made quick work of ridding her of her lace bra and panties.
“You buy those especially for me?” I asked, a twinge of jealousy gnawing at my gut at the thought of her wearing them for anyone else.
She nodded sheepishly.
“Good,” I grinned.
The moment of jealousy had distracted me from what was right in front of me.
Molly.
Naked.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“So are you.”
Her words were so heartfelt, my chest tightened as I choked back the words on the tip of my tongue, words I’d never be able to say to her.
Ever again.
“Are you sure, Molly? I don’t want to—”
“I’m sure, Jake,” she assured me.
I smoothed back her blonde hair, kissing her forehead, as she nestled between my arms. She felt so small, just like she had all those years ago. But, unlike then, she had the gaze of a woman. A strong, take-no-prisoners fierceness I found not only admirable, but also incredibly sexy. She held that dirty girl stare, meant for no one but me as I pulled a condom from my suitcase. Whatever had made me throw a couple of these in here last minute was surely nothing short of a damn miracle.
Quickly sliding it on, my hands shook in anticipation as Molly’s hands ran up and down my thighs, her fingertips skimming the curves of my ass.
“Something else about me that’s different,” I finally said, after I’d finished with the condom. My hands slid across her hips, savoring the silky softness of her skin. I made a path down the backs of her thighs until finally I reached the backs of her knees.
“What’s that?” she asked, her breath catching as I suddenly pushed her legs back, exposing her in the most erotic way. My eyes flashed red, catching a glimpse of that tight, wet heat.
“This,” I said, thrusting forward with little warning.
She instantly cried out, and our bodies joined together for the first time in over a decade.
“Shit, you feel good, Mols,” I groaned.
Stopping for a moment to allow her body a second to acclimate to my size, I let my head fall back. My hands gripped her knees as my cock buried itself deep into her slick, wet folds.
Nothing could be better than this.
Nothing.
Reaching forward, I pulled her gorgeous body on top of mine, her legs straddling me tight. Now, we were connected everywhere.
Kissing.
Fucking.
Touching.
This truly was everything.