by Sarah Cole
I hear a door close, and I lay still, listening until there’s a soft knock on my door frame.
“Flynn.” She whispers into the dark.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I know this is strange, and I completely understand if you say no, but do you mind if I sleep with you in your bed? I’m scared.”
“Get in here.” I say, scooting over and pulling back the covers. She slides in beside me, hugging the edge of the bed. I take matters into my own hands and wrap my arm around her tiny waist and pull her closer into my body. I feel her sharply inhale, and her body stiffens.
“Relax, Clara.” I mumble into her hair and take a deep breath breathing her in. I ran her a warm bath earlier to try and relax her. She smells like my soap and smoke, but underneath all of that, I can faintly pick up her sweet smell. I feel her let out a shaky breath and loosen up a little.
A few moments pass, and I can tell she’s still as awake as I am, our bodies humming in an electric like attraction. She has me feeling like a live wire.
“I need you to tell me who locked you in that closet, Clara. I know you know, and I need to hear it so I can protect you. But I can’t do that unless you trust me.” I wasn’t going to press the issue tonight, but I won’t be able to sleep until I have answers.
“I don’t know a name, or a face really… just a voice and who it is.” She finally says in a strained voice.
“That doesn’t really make sense.”
“Well, like you said earlier, you know who I am, where I’m from. Several years ago, just as my family’s shows started getting popular and our fame increased, I started getting these really creepy notes. Small messages at first. Just things that he noticed about me… like really odd stuff, like my routines, and how I liked my coffee. Weird stuff… then, the messages started getting graphic and… detailed.”
“Like?” I prompt.
“Like if he got his hands on me, what he would do… not just sexual stuff either, but like violent, awful things. Things that I can’t even imagine…” she trails off, and I can’t wait to get my hands on this fucker.
“Did he ever give a reason?” I feel like it will be easier to evaluate the situation if I knew the why.
“None…nothing. He just…”
“What?”
“One night, I was in a parking lot in West LA and I was waiting on my brother to meet me for an event, and I felt someone come up and grab me from behind. He grabbed my hair first, then he tried to choke me. I fought back, but he got in a good punch before my brother pulled in and scared him off.”
“Jesus Christ, angel. What happened? Did you go to the police?” I ask. In all the research, I did on her, I don’t remember seeing anything about it.
“I wanted to and my brother wanted to, but my dad shut it down. He didn’t want the negative press since we were just starting to make waves. Since the guy was wearing a mask and gloves and stuff, I really had no evidence or description to go by anyways. So, he kind of swept it under the rug, the story of the black eye got spun into me having had a wild night partying. Then after that night, I never received a note or heard from the guy again. That was about five years ago.”
“So, what makes you think it’s the same person? I mean, how would he find you here?”
“I started receiving notes again, and it’s the same handwriting. There were ones left on my car windshield. I’d go home and find packages on my counter with pictures of me out jogging in the morning with notes.”
I feel the rage bubbling up inside. Not only because some psychotic dick weed is messing with my woman, has been in her house, has put his hands on her, but because she never thought to tell me.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Clara?” I try to school my tone, but it still comes out angry.
“I’m sorry. It’s my mess to worry about, and if I told you about that…”
“You would have had to tell everything else.” I finish for her.
“Right.”
“So, what happened today, or rather yesterday?” I ask, eyeing the clock on the nightstand.
“I went home, and went for a run, then got in the shower. I know I locked up… I always do, but I heard footsteps. At first, I thought it was my ears playing tricks on me. I’ve been paranoid. Then, I heard him. He said my name, and I immediately knew his voice. There isn’t any way I could possibly forget it. It’s burned in my memories. He said something else too, something about cheating on him with another man. I could tell he was still across the hall walking around, so I slipped out of the shower and hid in my closet. I heard him do something do the door, but I was too scared at that point to try and get out. It wasn’t until I heard him laughing and started to smell the smoke that I started to panic. I couldn’t get out because he jammed the lock. Flynn, all I could think about was you and Emma, and that I was going to die in there.” she cries and turns over into my bare chest, and I pull her closer.
“Damn it, angel. I just wish you would have told me. You are going to tell the police when they stop by later.”
“I can’t do that. People will find out where I am, and I can’t go back to living in a fishbowl.”
“Clara, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, but you have to be honest with them and just tell them as much as you can. I’m not going to risk you. Plus, if there’s some psycho following you around, and you’re with Emma, I’m not ok with that.”
She nods, “You’re right… I’ll do anything to keep her safe.”
“We’ll figure it out, baby. We’ll get this bastard.” I say, pulling her closer still so she’s practically on top of me.
She tilts her head up, and I look down at her. Her petite features just barely visible in the moonlight coming through the slats in the blinds.
“Thank you for everything, Flynn. Thank you for saving me, for letting me stay here, for trusting me with Emma even when I wasn’t very honest with you, for listening… just everything.”
I look at her for a beat before I decide that the risk is ultimately worth the reward, and I fuse my lips to hers in a searing kiss. It isn’t gentle or sweet like how I wanted it to be with her. I’ve been waiting too long for this moment, and there isn’t any resistance from her as she opens to me with a soft moan, letting my tongue eagerly explore hers. The taste of the soda she was sipping on earlier, still lingers and just as I thought, so fucking sweet – just like the angel I knew she was. My hands find the hem of the pajama shirt she changed into earlier, and I let my hand glide over the soft skin at the small of her back as he presses herself into me. Our kiss deepens, and our teeth clank together as if we are trying to consume one another.
I slide my hand down and under the waistband of her sleep shorts, only to discover that she’s free of panties and I palm her tight little ass as we both groan into each other’s mouths. Her hands slide down the ridges of my stomach and it only strengthens my need for her.
I test my boundaries and slide my hand down a little further, when I feel her body tense above mine.
I stop my hand. “I’m sorry. I won’t… we don’t have to...” God, I feel like a fumbling teenager with her.
“No, it isn’t that… Flynn, I just haven’t done this before.”
“Done what?”
“This…” she emphasizes. “Anything, been with anyone…physically.”
Well if that doesn’t throw me for a loop. “You’re serious?” I take her cheeks between my hands, stroking them softly with my thumbs as she regards me with shyness.
She nods, “I’m sorry. I just never really had much free time, or wanted a relationship. So…”
“Clara, don’t apologize. Do you know how fucking special you are? How insanely sexy that is to me that no man has ever put his hands on you?” I tell her, and nothing has been more true for me when it comes to a woman. The fact that she is a virgin is driving me damn near insane with want. I’m going to be her first, and I’ll make damn sure that I’ll be her last too.
“I never wanted them to
until you…” she breathes. I swear, despite the fact she’s as pure as fresh fallen snow, my angel is part devil and she doesn’t even know it. She does things to me that I can’t control. I grab the back of her head and pull her mouth to mine as I grind my hard length into her thigh.
“Feel that? Do you feel what you do to me, angel? That’s all for you.”
“I want it.” she practically moans into my mouth. Sweet Jesus.
“Not tonight.” I slide one hand into her long, silky hair and the other goes to her hip so I can roll her over to her back.
I kiss my way down her neck and through her pajama top, I find the tiny peak of her hardened nipple and pull it into my mouth, eliciting a hoarse moan from her. I undo the buttons of her top and work my way down her body, tasting the skin that I’ve spent weeks fantasizing day and night about. I lick along the waistband of her shorts and she pushes herself towards me, causing me to laugh a little. My wanton little virgin. I untie the ribbon at the front and curl my fingers around the soft, cotton fabric inching them almost painfully slow down over her toned thighs and long legs.
“Open up baby.” I grab her behind each knee and spread her wide so I can settle myself between them. I can’t wait another second and I take the tips of my fingers and seek her out in the dark, dragging my fingers through her warm wet heat. Her breaths come in shallow pants.
“When I’m alone in bed at night, all I can think about is this. What it would feel like to have you touch me like this, to feel your mouth on me, to have you take me in every way possible.” Her voice is still raw and raspy from the smoke, and it only adds to the sex that is dripping from every word out of her sweet mouth.
“Jesus Christ, angel. Are you trying to kill me?” I groan and she laughs softly.
“Tell me- do you touch yourself when you think about me taking you?
She mumbles a non-coherent response as I drag my tongue along her clit, gently pulling it into my mouth.
“Tell me, baby. I’ll stop if you don’t.”
“Yes.” She whispers into the dark, and I can just picture her beautiful, innocent cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
“What was that?”
“Yes. God, yes. All the time. I ache all the damn time, Flynn. Every time you touch me or look at me, I damn near spontaneously combust.” She moans the last part, and what little bit of self-control that I’m still clinging to snaps.
I bury my face between her legs, and worship every fucking inch of her untouched pussy, savoring her clean, soft taste.
She rests her bandaged hands on my head as she flexes her fingers, and I smile against her knowing that she’s aching to grip my hair to grind herself against me.
“Oh, my God.” She pants. “So much better than I imagined.”
I alternate motions swirling my tongue around her clit and sucking at it gently. I can feel the tension growing in her, nearing detonation, and when I feel like she’s about to fall over the edge, I thrust my tongue in and out of her tight channel-nudging it gently against the thin barrier that protects the last bit of her innocence from me.
She comes almost immediately with the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard in my life and her body is overcome with spasms as her thighs clamp around the sides of my head and her breaths come in short bursts. I continue my assault, slowly bringing her back to earth with lazy laps as I lick her clean. I’ve never been this way with a woman before- commanding, eager, and possessive as hell. I’ve never had this animalistic need to consume her in every way, but with Clara I’m all of those things. Jesus, I have no idea where that came from, but I like the way it feels, because with her it feels different…better.
I crawl up over her and plant a soft kiss on her lips, letting her taste herself. I’m shocked when she doesn’t shy away, but deepens the kiss. I roll over beside her and pull her tight little body as close to mine as it will get and tuck her head into my chest as I stroke her hair. Her hand falls on my chest rubbing small circles, and I feel her stall slightly at the scar on my shoulder, then again at the puckered skin that sporadically mars my chest and sides. It doesn’t bother me, but I just hope she doesn’t ask right now. I don’t have an issue with telling her, but that kind of shit doesn’t have a place in our bed.
Her hand shakily moves lower and lower until she reaches the top of my boxer briefs and her soft finger tips graze the tip that is peeking out from above the waist band. Her hand moves down lower as she feels me – all of me, through the fabric. I’ll let her explore for now, but her hands are still bandaged and there’s no way I’m shoving my cock in her mouth when she is struggling to breathe as it is.
She tentatively slides her hand under the waistband and she grips my hardness causing it to jerk involuntarily with need, and she jumps slightly and I can’t stifle the chuckle that bubbles from my chest.
“It’s so smooth… and big.” She adds, and the laughter continues.
“I’m glad you approve.” I say, and I feel her smile against my chest.
Her hand begins to stroke me, and as much as I want her to finish this, I’m not that much of an asshole. I lightly grip her wrist and bring her bandaged hand to my mouth, placing a kiss on her palm.
“Don’t you want me to… help you?” she asks, searching for a term that seemed appropriate to her.
“Baby, when I come the next time, I’m going to make sure it’s because I’m buried deep inside that tight pussy of yours where I belong.”
“Oh!” she gasps. “But I want to…”
“And angel, you have no fucking clue how bad I want you to right now, but your hands are hurt, you can’t breathe, your throat is raw… I’m not doing that. When we do it, it’s going to be light in here so you can remember every detail. I want the image of my cock burned in your brain so deep that it ruins you for any other man.” I say. I’m surprising the hell out of myself with the dirty shit I’m spewing from my mouth tonight, but I can’t stop, and judging by the way she’s pressing herself into me right now – she doesn’t want me to.
Instead of taking it where I want to, I settle us both in and steal a glance at the clock. It’s three in the morning, and I know at best, I’ll get about three hours of sleep before Emma wakes up and wants to eat.
“Let’s just get some rest baby, and we’ll revisit the rest in the morning.” I thread my fingers through her long, silky ponytail as she traces tiny shapes against my bare chest. Something inside me feels like it physically flips over in this moment, and I know this is it. This is what falling love feels like, and I just fell off the fucking cliff. Not just the crazy lust filled minutes where you can’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off, but this. These comfortable moments where you’re content just to lay in one another’s arms and feel brazenly without judgement or apprehension. This is a feeling that I don’t want to end – not now, not in a week, a few months or years – or ever.
Clara’s breathing has evened out but I can still hear the wheeze in her chest, which pisses me off, but just as I’m about ready to let sleep pull me under, she pulls me back.
“Flynn…?”
“Yeah, angel?”
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” She whispers softly into the dark, almost too softly, but I heard her loud and clear.
“Good, because I’m already there…” I whisper back into the dark and let myself drift off to the first dreamless sleep I’ve had in ages.
CLARA:
I feel the bed dip beside me, and the unmistakable sound of a very energetic baby. I smile, though my eyes are still closed.
“I think she’s waking up.” I hear Flynn say in a sweet voice. “Maybe if she hears how much fun Daddy and Emma are having without her, she will want to wake up and play too.” He taunts, and then I hear him blow a big raspberry on Emma’s tummy and the sweetest sound of a little baby laugh. The first one I’ve heard from her.
I open one eye, a smile still plastered on my face and am met with two big blue eyeballs. One Flynn’s and one Emma’s as they stare at m
e cheek to cheek. I open my other eye and smile even wider as Emma’s chubby face erupts in a gummy baby smile. She is seriously the most beautiful little human I have ever laid eyes on.
“I told you not to let me sleep.” I say to Flynn, looking at the clock that says it’s after eight already.
“Well, I thought you could use it after last night.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I bump him with my knee.
I’ve been here for a little over two weeks now, and so far, Flynn and I have done everything besides officially seal the deal. I think he might be just about as nervous as I am about losing my virginity, but in all honesty, I’m so beyond ready. I’m nearly twenty-six, and the man literally drives me crazy with need.
Beyond the physical need for release, my anxiety is still at an all-time high as the police still have no leads. Flynn stood by my side as I told them everything starting with what had happened years ago back in LA. Unfortunately, there really isn’t much to go on considering any evidence I did have like handwriting samples and the pictures that were taken where destroyed in the fire. Due to everything that happened, Flynn had a state of the art security system installed here at his home, and he doesn’t want me leaving without him or Maggie, or his Aunt. I would say he’s being overprotective, but it’s not just me I worry about. It’s Emma too, and we’d both do anything to keep her from harm.
***
We spent the morning at the park just walking the paved paths, and I strapped Emma into a baby wrap, keeping her close as Flynn gently pushed us on the swings. It felt good-real and normal doing things like that together. Now we find ourselves at the market, shopping for groceries for the week. I’ve been trying to become more domestic and cook good, balanced meals. So far, Flynn hasn’t died or complained. So, I don’t think my cooking is terrible. But then again, he talks about how anything is better than an MRE, so maybe he doesn’t really know the difference. I finally convinced Flynn to stop paying me. I plead my case, stating that all that money was just going into a college account for Emma anyways, and I honestly had zero use for it – plus, I’m staying in his house. After days of disagreeing, we came to an agreement that we would just set that money aside for Emma. I’m trying to convince him to let me help with everything else financially, but I doubt that is going to happen – won’t stop me from trying though.