Spark

by S. L. Scott

  I don’t need to be asked twice. “Turn around and put the palms of your hands on the bed.” She doesn’t hesitate, and even takes it a step further by sliding forward just until her tits touch but are pressed against the blanket.

  My jeans are becoming painfully tight. I take my belt off, pulling it through the loops. I toss it behind me. I’ve never been into spanking. I’ll do it if a chick wants it, but I don’t get off on it.

  I’m thinking about fucking her right now. I can just drop my jeans. But she’s putting a lot of trust in me positioned like that, so I should make her feel good in return. I strip off what I’m wearing because if she’s naked, I want to be naked with her. Touching her waist, I run my hand along the curve. “If you’re mine for the taking, can I take you like this?”

  Resting on her elbows, she keeps her eyes forward. “I’m getting cold. Touch me. Cover me. Take me. Fuck me, Jet. Just fill me. Please.”

  “Such a dirty fucking mouth. Do you know how much that mouth of yours turns me on?”

  Her voice lower, her eyes on the pillow just out of reach. “How much?”

  “Almost enough to make me want to fuck it first.”

  “Do it.”

  “No, you’re not running this show, baby. I am.” Dragging my hand slowly down her spine and lower, I stop when I reach between her legs and find her wet and ready for me. “So damn sexy.” I coat my cock with her slickness and position my erection just as I remember I’m not covered. “Fuck, I forgot a condom. Stay right there, baby.”

  She giggles. “You don’t need one.”

  I’m about to go rummage through my suitcase to find my Ziploc full of bathroom stuff, but I pause instead. “Really?”

  Looking back, she says, “Really.”

  “You have birth control?”

  “I take the pill.” She wiggles to get more comfortable. “I’d really like to move this along if possible.”

  It’d be rude to keep the lady waiting. Still positioned where I want to be, I lean over her from behind and slide my hands from her shoulders to her hands, resting my weight on my wrists and legs. I kiss one shoulder and then the other while holding her in place. “You don’t want me to go easy, do you, sweetheart?”

  “You know I hate being called swee—

  Thrusting, I push myself deep into her supple warmth. Her hands anchor her to the bed, taking every thrust I give while her body begs for more. My eyelids dip closed as I lean back and drive forward.

  “Tell me everything you hate while I fuck you, baby.”

  “I hate when you call me sweetheart.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my ex called me that.”

  For a guy who earns his living from his great rhythm, mine is thrown off, but only for a millisecond. Can’t let her see me sweat. “What else do you hate?”

  Her breaths come out in pants, and she moans. “Um.”

  I love that she struggles to focus. Me too. This feels so damn good that I know I’m not going to last much longer. I want her to come with me. “Tell me, Hannah,” I demand.

  “I, uh . . .” She drops her head. “Feels so good.” So good. She says, “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

  Stopping, I draw back. “Turn over for me.” She scoots up the bed and lies on her back. Her chest is flushed and goose bumps scatter across her skin. I move over her and sink back inside, the heat melding us together. Slowing my pace, I start making love to her.

  I kiss her cheek and everywhere else on her face. I stop kissing her neck just long enough to whisper in her ear, “Tell me what you love, wildflower.”

  “I love the way I feel whole when we’re like this.”

  Kissing her chest, I say, “I feel it. Whole.” Complete.

  “I love . . .” She reaches up and holds my cheek in the palm of her hand. “I love you.”

  She’s been strong since I met her, even tough sometimes when she had to be, but when she lets you in, you’re all the way in. She exposes her vulnerabilities and opens her heart, not just a little, but wide open to be hurt.

  Trust.

  This is trust in shades of giving. One of the best gifts she can give me. She’s giving me her heart but doesn’t realize she’s had mine all along. The words don’t seem enough, but they need to be said. They need to be heard. “I love you.”

  Her light shines in her eyes from her heart.

  Just for me.

  I bow my head to my love’s shoulder. Twisting. Tightening. So close. Her breath blows across my ear—mews of pleasure, the pleasure she gets from me. “I love you. I love you. I love . . .” The curve at the base of her neck takes my final breath as I grind out my orgasm, releasing all of me with a harsh exhale. “You.”

  The tips of her fingers dig into my shoulders. Her hold tightens, her head pushing into the pillow behind her. Still caught up in her, I lick the base of her jaw as her body speaks for her—back arching, moans that come from deep within, her fingers weaving into my hair demanding my eyes on her.

  When she gives me all of her, I kiss her. I kiss her until her outsides twist with her insides and then back again. Tension escapes her, and we fall, fall, fall back together.

  I stay.

  I lie on top of her, too weak to move. I lie on top of her, feeling her breath coat my skin like a breeze on the beach. I lie there until her fingers loosen and soothe my body. I lie there while she holds me so tight I can’t leave.

  A kiss lands on my neck, and I shift, taking the bulk of my weight off her but leaving enough to still cover her.

  I always smoke after sex, and the craving is there in the pit of my stomach, but it doesn’t feel right to leave her. I like this. I love this.

  “Jet?” she whispers so quietly, so unsure.

  I hate it. “Yeah?” Keeping my eyes off hers to give her enough room to find surety in the space between us again.

  “This is real for me.”

  Space isn’t needed. Lifting up, I lean over her and then dip my head down, closing my eyes and feeling our cheeks pressed together, feeling us together. I whisper, “It’s always been real for me.” Fuck. I squeeze my eyes, refusing to give into the surfacing emotions I didn’t even know existed until she came along.

  Pushing up, I get out of bed because I need to clear my head. I need air. I need a smoke.

  27

  Jet

  Pacing the length of the pool, I light up.

  Hannah watched me pull on my jeans and shirt, not saying a word. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and a jacket and left the room.

  I meant it when I told her I loved her the first time and this time and every time in between. What was that in her eyes—fear? Her words—this is real for me—making me wonder if real for her stirs her fears. Will she hold back or give in all the way, be all in like I am?

  Me?

  That I’m a musician?

  That she’s been burned by a musician before?

  The situation with Alfie?

  Her aunt?

  Her father?

  Fuck. I can name a dozen reasons that might be holding her back. I shouldn’t have left her. I turn to go back, but she’s standing there, an angel standing in the dark wearing a white dress that illuminates her in the moonlight. The lightest of breezes cause the fabric to float into the air.

  “Are you leaving me?”

  All the other reasons go away. That’s the fear I see in her eyes, the sadness that still resides. “You think I could leave you, wildflower?” I tear my gaze away and blow smoke into the inky black sky. “I’m right here,” I repeat her words from earlier.

  “Your mind isn’t. Where did your thoughts run off to?”

  “What is this, Hannah? This between us?”

  “We just said we loved each other inside. Was that not real?”

  “It’s all been real. Don’t you see? It’s always been real to me.” I take a drag hoping to calm down. When I sit, she remains too far away. “I didn’t damage you, but I’m paying the price for someone who did.” My heart be
ats too fast to remain. I start to pace again. “This shouldn’t be complicated. We fucking love each other. They aren’t just words. I feel it when you say it. Do you feel it when I tell you?”

  “Why are you upset?”

  Why am I upset? Why am I fucking upset? “Are we still pretending we’re a secret?”

  The question seems to surprise her. “How can we be a secret when everyone knows?”

  “Alfie doesn’t.”

  “Alfie’s not blind. He can see we’re close. Do you want to tell Alfie?”

  “Yes.” I take a breath, calming my heart with every step I take. She’s a goddess in a white dress soothing my restless soul.

  I stand before her with my arms at my sides, waiting for her to say something, anything that will make this turmoil inside me go away. Reaching up, she takes the cigarette from my mouth and tosses it to the concrete. “I don’t want you smoking anymore.” Moving my jacket to the side, she presses the palm of her hand over my heart. “When I love, I love hard, fully, with all of me. You don’t understand the damage you can do to me. The power you have. With that power in your hands, you also hold your health and your life. You can’t risk your life because you’re damaging my heart and my life when you do. Alfie needs you, but I do too. I love you, Jet.”

  My arms wrap around her as my jacket covers her shoulders. She wraps her arms around me, resting her head on me, and says, “I feel it.”

  And there she is, the girl I always saw beneath her struggles and the burdens life had dumped on her. My brave and beautiful woman.

  “I don’t want to be a secret. We were already the worst kept one around anyway.” Resting her chin on me, she looks up. “We can talk to Alfie, but we need to be careful and manage his expectations of dating versus . . .” Her eyes leave mine.

  “Versus something more permanent? Something like marriage?”

  Just a nod. So small, but I see it.

  Running the back of my hand over her cheek, I ask, “It’s fast, all of this is so fast, but where do you stand with marriage? Is that something you want in life?”

  “I do.”

  “I like the sound of that.” I put a little pressure on her ribs until she giggles, the sound echoing into the night.

  By her hand, I spin her out and bring her back to me. Then I slow dance with her under the California stars. “We’re more serious than we intended.”

  Smiling down at her, I hold her hand in mine and her waist in my other. “Good or bad, intentions are commands of the heart.”

  “What are we? Good or bad?”

  Dipping her, I kiss her and whisper against her lips, “The best.”

  When I bring her up, we’re pressed together again. No music, only the wind is heard, but we still sway together. She asks, “Why did you ask me to tell you everything I hate?”

  “I wanted to fuck the hate out of you so you’re free from it.”

  I like her smile too much. Seeing it now reassures me. Yeah, we’re going to be fine. “You were making love to me.”

  “I want to replace that hate with the love you deserve, Hannah. I want you to feel it long after we leave that bed.”

  “I feel it with you.” Holding my hand, she trails away until only the tips of our fingers touch. “I hated the life I was leading.”

  “When?”

  “Before Alfie.” I love when she suddenly turns shy. “Before you,” she whispers.

  The words float through the air between us. She twirls, her skirt ballooning free like she wants to be from the worries that plague her.

  I’ll give her what she needs. I’ll do my best to take her worries and bury them. I’m sure of all these things. I’m sure of her and me. One day, we’ll get married. She’s not just my heart, but she holds my soul captive inside her.

  Going to her, I sling my arm around her shoulders. “C’mon. It’s too cold out here for you.” Her arm slips around my back, and we walk to the house. “So you want me to quit smoking?”

  “Yes, I do. My cousin died of cancer, and it doesn’t matter how good you look doing it, your health is more important.”

  “So is yours. No asking to smoke my cigs anymore.”

  “You never let me anyway.”

  “So how about I try to quit after the album wraps?”

  Jumping in front of me, she places one hand against my abs, halting me. The other is between us. “Shake on it, Crow.”

  “You’re a tenacious little thing.”

  “A weed.” Her eyes reveal the happiness bubbling up inside her, and she laughs. “Weeds are persistent.”

  “Wildflower,” I correct with a chuckle. “And yes, they are persistent.” Taking her hand in mine, I shake, a big and official shake. “You and Alfie got yourselves a deal.”

  “He’ll be thrilled.”

  Wrapping my arm around her waist, we go inside the house. “How about you? Will you be thrilled?”

  “I already am.” Her hand rubs over my stomach, and I hear one of those little dreamy mews of hers that makes me hard. “I really like your body. Is that terrible to say?”

  I scoop her up and put her over my shoulder. With a firm hold of her ass, I carry her upstairs. Just outside Alfie’s door, I stop, but she pulls the walkie-talkie from my jacket pocket and wiggles it in her hand. “He’s okay.”

  “Okay.” She’s right. He is. I just worry. Wow. Maybe I’m not so lost on this dad thing after all.

  Inside the room, I ask, “Shower?”

  “Yes,” she replies with a little lift onto her toes and kissing me.

  I start the water so it can warm up and take off my clothes. She comes into the bathroom naked already. I catcall her because damn, she’s fine. “You have a really fucking amazing body. You remember how you told me you stay in shape?”

  She bursts out laughing and shakes her head. From that reaction, she clearly remembers. “I can’t believe I told you from fucking. I also can’t believe you didn’t throw me out of your bed right then.” Her hand goes under the water. The temperature must be right because she moves under the spray. “Ahhhh. This feels so good. Come in here with me, baby.”

  Baby? Fuck. Who knew I’d like being someone’s baby so much. I move behind her and run my hands all over her stomach while kissing her neck. “It’s been a while since we did it in the shower. Hint. Hint.”

  “Good God, Crow.” She laughs and cups between her legs. “My vagina needs a break.”

  “I’d make apologies but yeah, I’m not sorry. You knew what you were getting back into when you seduced me with your charms and tight little pussy.”

  “Who’s got the dirty mouth now?”

  “Dirty.” I lower my voice. “You’re so dirty. Let me help you and make everything feel so much better.” I lower to my knees and turn her around, making her call my name while she praises the heavens above.

  Twice.

  Once we’re thoroughly exhausted and clean, we lie under the covers. She’s curled against me. She has her arm and leg draped over my body as I hold her.

  “You’re a good guy, Jet.” Her eyelashes are feathers brushing against my skin. “You’ll always tell me the truth, right?”

  “You have no reason to doubt me. I’m loyal to those I love.”

  “I know you are. It’s my personal insecurities, not anything you’ve done.”

  “Time.” I kiss her head. “It will take time, but I’ll give you no reason to ever doubt me.”

  Snuggling closer, she closes her eyes, and then her breathing deepens and steadies. “Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  I left Hannah sleeping when I rolled out of bed to the sound of Alfie stirring around seven in the morning. My head is groggy as I pull on some boxer shorts and a T-shirt and head down the hall.

  His door opens, and he smiles.

  It’s hard to be annoyed at this early hour when you’re greeted with pure, unadulterated joy to see you. “Morning, buddy.”

  “Morning. I’m hungry.”

  “Go get dresse
d and brush your teeth. I’m gonna do the same and meet you back here in a few minutes. We have food in the kitchen, but I heard there’s going to be breakfast in the main house this morning.”

  “I want waffles.”

  Walking back to the room, I say, “We get what we get—”

  “I know. I know. And we don’t throw a fit.”

  A few minutes later, we’re walking across the property to the big house and I’m taking in the scenery. It’s a place I can only dream of having one day. Dreaming doesn’t cost a thing, so I’ll keep doing it. “You think you’d like living at a place like this?”

  “Yes. Ms. Holli said we get to visit the horse today. I’ve never seen a real horse. I heard they’re big.”

  “They are.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it so naturally as if we’ve been father and son forever. Guess we have. We just didn’t know it before. “Are you happy, Alfie?”

  “I like it here. Are you happy, Daddy?”

  My feet come to a stop, and my chest feels thick with hopes that can be destroyed with something as simple as questioning myself. Did I hear him correctly?

  He asks, “What? Why’d we stop? I’m hungry.”

  “What did you say?”

  Looking up at me, he rubs his stomach. “I’m hungry.”

  “Before that.”

  The seconds tick by as he ponders my question. “Are you happy?”

  I smile. “I am happy. When you asked me that, you called me daddy.”

  Nodding quickly, he asks, “Is that okay? Am I in trouble?”

  “No,” I say, bending down. Looking into my son’s eyes, I say, “You’re not in trouble. You called me daddy. Thank you, son.” I bring him in for a hug, and he hugs me. When I pull back, I add, “I like that. I love being your daddy.”

  “I love it just like Mommy told me I would.”

  We start walking toward the house again. “Hey, buddy?” When he looks up at me, I ask, “When did your mommy tell you about me?”

  “When Grandma would go to bed, I would sneak into Mommy’s room and she’d let me sleep with her.”