Sometimes Moments

by Len Webster

  Callum’s lips crashing into hers stifled the rest of the safe word, almost taking it away from her. Peyton’s hands reached up and held onto his waist as she kissed him back. She closed her eyes as Callum’s mouth put more pressure on hers. Over and over, his lips worked with hers. It wasn’t slow. It was fast and desperate. A kiss that screamed, “Let me keep you!” to Peyton.

  His body tensed under her hands and she pulled him onto her. The pure weight of him caused her to moan. A sob was made somewhere between his mouth moulding over hers and his body falling on top of her. It wasn’t a sob she made. Then something warm and wet hit her cheek and she opened her eyes.

  The movement of her lips were slowed as she watched tears run from his closed eyes and down Callum’s face, unaware that she was watching. Her heart throbbed and heated within her chest. She stopped returning his kisses as his lips continued to glide over hers.

  “Callum, stop,” she said.

  And his lips did.

  His arms tensed harder to the point where his veins protruded under his skin. Then he took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. When another tear hit her, she couldn’t understand why a second sob escaped him.

  “I don’t want this for you, Peyton. You don’t deserve this. This is why I made you promise to not let me kiss you.”

  The break in his voice had Peyton removing her hands from the side of his body, letting them fall onto the mattress. The cracks in her heart deepened at the desperation in Callum’s voice.

  “Then say it,” she whispered.

  Callum opened his eyes and moved his forehead from hers, staring down at her. “Say it?”

  Peyton nodded. “Call it. Say the safe word.”

  He winced. “I can’t. I can’t say that word,” he said, shaking his head.

  Peyton reached up and wiped the wet tears from his cheeks. “You can say it, Callum. You know how to walk away. You’ve done this before.”

  “I’m not calling it, Peyton. Not on this bed. This bed holds everything for me. I’m not ending it here,” Callum said.

  She recognised the anger in his voice.

  Callum looked her in the eye. “Not on this bed. Never on this bed.” He didn’t let her say a word as he got off the bed and walked to the door. But then he paused and hung his head low. “I’m sorry, Peyton. You don’t understand how much that bed means to me,” he said sadly before he opened the door and left her room and then the house.

  Peyton let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling and listened to the sound of the water rushing out of the tap. She forced her eyes shut and tried to forget the image of him crying. Tried to forget the desperation. Tried to forget the apology and regret. But forgetting wasn’t happening. It continuously burned holes through her chest.

  Never on this bed.

  She slowly opened her eyes and looked down at the bubbled water of the tub.

  “Why my bed?” she thought out loud and turned off the tap. “Why didn’t he use the safe word?”

  Why didn’t I use it?

  Peyton’s hands covered her face. “Because I didn’t want to use it. I couldn’t.”

  She quickly placed her hands on either side of the porcelain tub and submerged herself under the hot water in an attempt to drown herself. Death was an easier solution…if she weren’t so afraid of dying. Instead, she started counting.

  One.

  You.

  Two.

  Still.

  Three.

  Love.

  Four.

  Him.

  Peyton jerked out from under the water, gasping. Once her breathing settled, she wiped her face of the bubbles then shook her head. She was still in love with him. The concept was one she didn’t welcome. She couldn’t.

  “Oh, God,” she cried. “No. Anyone. Love anyone but him.”

  The sound of a new text message had her looking over the tub to her phone on the tiled floor. Reaching over, she picked it up, water settling on the screen as she unlocked her phone.

  Callum: I need to see you. Meet me tonight.

  Peyton: Why?

  Callum: Because you want to see me, too.

  Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. No denying it. She wanted to see him. Wanted an explanation for the tears. She wanted a lot of explanations from Callum Reid.

  Peyton: Where?

  Callum: You know where, Peyton.

  Peyton hugged her thick jacket tighter as she walked over the hill and to the lake. The sun had already set and the temperature was dropping. After her morning bath, she’d pulled out the box from under her bed. It was a box of things he had left behind and little things they’d collected together. She’d gone through the contents for the first time in over four years. She’d come across a small, dried branch of pink cherry blossoms. It was the same branch he’d broken off for her the first time they’d sat under the tree outside her window. She’d kept it and cherished it until it had found its way into the box under her bed.

  Her phone vibrated, so Peyton took it out of her pocket as she walked on the hotel grounds. She read the new message from Callum.

  Callum: I’ll be here waiting for you. Whenever you’re ready.

  She stopped just outside the path that took her into the woods and to their circle of trees. A place in this world that she both loved and hated. A place where she felt secure and insecure. A place where he never reciprocated her love.

  Peyton: I should turn back.

  Callum: You should. But I don’t want you to.

  Peyton: What do you want?

  Callum: To be with you.

  She stared at his message and swallowed hard.

  Callum: And to not be with you.

  Her heart plunged.

  Callum: But I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you. But I couldn’t and shouldn’t. You’re smart, Peyton. It would be stupid to be with me tonight.

  Peyton looked back and stared in the direction of her street and then at the path. Then she glanced down at her phone and typed.

  Peyton: I’m stupid.

  Peyton: And I’m foolish.

  Peyton: But foremost, I am stupid.

  Once the message sent, she locked her phone and returned it to her pocket. The darkened forest that met her was one she stared at for a moment before she took a step towards it.

  It didn’t take long until Peyton found the circular rock, and she walked down the short incline, avoiding loose rocks and fresh mud, to see orange flashing. Slowly, she trekked through the dense foliage until she broke into the circle of trees. She stepped forward, dry leaves rustling under her foot, and Callum turned his head to her. He sat on a checker blanket, staring at the small makeshift fire that burned brightly enough to illuminate his face.

  He gave her a tight smile as the vibrant red and orange of the flames reflected on his skin. She didn’t say anything as she made her way over and sat on the blanket next to him. She crossed her legs as she appreciated the warmth from the fire. Peyton didn’t look at him. Instead, she took in her surroundings. This moment resembled the night she’d lost her virginity to him. The stars were brighter now than before, but there was no fog. Last time, they hadn’t had a fire—they’d had lanterns.

  The memories played heavy on her heart and Peyton shook her head to rid them. That had been the last time that he’d held her before he’d broken her heart.

  “I’m sorry about this morning, Peyton,” Callum quietly said.

  She turned her head to see him staring intently at the fire like he had the night he’d kissed her. Another memory. Another moment.

  Peyton clenched her jaw before she spoke. “You cried, Callum.”

  He flinched. “You don’t know the truth, Peyton.”

  It was her turn to flinch. “Then give me the truth.”

  Callum slowly turned his head until his eyes met hers. “You don’t want it,” he replied.

  Her heart burst in frustration. “I want it as much as I wanted you.”
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  He closed his eyes for a second before he maneuvered his body so that he faced her properly. Then he looked down at his hands before meeting her eyes, the pain returning to his grey ones. Peyton leaned forward, never breaking eye contact, and gripped his shirt tight within her grasps. After a deep breath, she pulled his face close to hers, their lips almost touching.

  “Why did you cry, Callum?” she asked.

  She noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Because you don’t deserve to have me in your life. I will hurt you.”

  The air in Peyton’s lungs was drawn out and she was reminded just how temporary his stay is. Every inch of his face was filled with pain. Her heart wanted more, but it also wanted now. Callum couldn’t offer past his stay, but he had promised now. And in some screwed-up way, she wanted what she could have in this exact minute. In this moment, she would let her heart win.

  “Then I look forward to it,” she stated, and she felt Callum flinch underneath her fingers.

  My name is Peyton Spencer, and I am by far the stupidest woman on this Earth.

  She nodded at her thought and ignored the way Callum’s eyes were fixated on her lips. His breathing became heavy pants, and she held his shirt tighter.

  “Tell me no, Peyton. Goddammit, tell me no,” he begged desperately.

  Her eyes met his before she whispered, “Yes,” and brought his lips to hers.

  Her head screamed at how irresponsible she was being, but she couldn’t help herself. There was an undeniable draw to him. It had been there for as long as she could remember. Stupidity and heart were winning. Whatever she could have now, she’d rather take. No matter if a broken heart was what lay ahead of her.

  Callum’s tongue found hers and they discovered a rhythm of strokes begging of desperation and control. A moan escaped her, but she didn’t care. The last time she was ever this close to anyone was when she was seventeen. In this exact same spot.

  Peyton lay back on the blanket, bringing him down with her, and he settled between her thighs. They both sighed at the contact of their bodies. Every thought she managed was placed in a dark room in her mind and locked. She needed this. She needed the pain to go away. And Callum’s mouth on hers was relief.

  “Oh, God,” she softly moaned the moment he moved against her. Then she arched her back, moving her lips away from his as she experienced the small burst of pleasure.

  Callum’s mouth went to her neck and slowly trailed up and down, ghosting his lips along her skin. The image of him crying wouldn’t leave her and she hoped this intimate act between them would drowned it out. After Peyton found the hem of his shirt, he propped himself up and looked into her eyes. She noticed a glint to those confusing grey pools. The control was either gone or broken. One or the other. He was reluctant and she was offering. And she knew that he needed direction.

  “Tell me you don’t want this, Peyton. Tell me no,” he said between heavy pants.

  Peyton, tell him no. You have some pride.

  When she rested her body weight on her elbows, Callum moved back onto the blanket. She swallowed hard as she removed her thick coat, the desire and interest consuming Callum’s eyes.

  Make him realise his mistake of walking away.

  Peyton stood up, her eyes still on his. And as her fingers reached the hem of her shirt, she said, “Four years ago, you ruined me in this spot. You broke my heart. You made love to me here. Callum…”

  His eyes saddened at her reminder of their first and last time together. “Yes, Peyton.”

  She ignored the way his name sounded to her heart and bent forward, placing her hands on his cheeks. Then she looked him hard in the eye and whispered, “Fuck me.”

  He flinched and his nose flared. He blinked once and looked her over. This wasn’t about love. It was about releasing the tension and feeling pleasure for the first time in a long time. He couldn’t give her love.

  Callum held onto her hips and brought her down to his lap. The moment she straddled him, his eyelids tightly scrunched together and he swore under his breath.

  “Fuck me, Callum,” she pleaded once more.

  His eyes opened quickly just in time to see her pull the shirt off her body and throw it on the ground next to the blanket.

  His fingers dug into her skin as he tried to compose himself, but his heavy panting was deceitful. He wanted this as much as she wanted it. Peyton hoped that this one moment of him fucking her would remove the innocent memory of their first time.

  She reached behind and found the clasp of her red lacy bra. The sharp inhale from Callum was enough for her to unclip and remove it. His eyes never travelled south as she placed her bra with her shirt. The cool wind caused her to shiver, and his fingers dug into her more. When her hands moved to the button of her jeans, Callum’s quickly covered hers.

  “I’m not fucking you, Peyton,” he said in a hoarse voice before he had her on her back. Then he quickly unzipped his hoodie and disposed of it and his shirt.

  She tensed under him. Those weren’t the words that she’d expected.

  “Last time to tell me no,” he said as he placed his hands on her jeans.

  “You’re not going to get it,” she replied as she lifted her hips off the blanket.

  His jaw clenched as he blinked at her.

  Do it. Just fuck me, Callum. Taint our innocent times with this moment.

  With a sharp inhale and a second to himself, he pulled down her jeans and underwear. The moment he had her naked, he stood up, unbuttoned his pants, and stepped out of them as well as his underwear. The light from the fire allowed her to take in the naked image of him. She admired the cherry blossoms wrapped around his arm and was just able to see the letters of her name on his wrist. Her heart ached. So instead, she kept focused on his face rather than his tattoos.

  He reached down and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open and removing a condom. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest at the sight of the small package he held.

  No. This has to be raw in order to taint our memories.

  Peyton held out her hands. After a moment of his eyes floating over her naked body, Callum placed the condom in her palm and she threw it into the fire. He made a strangled sound, and she shook her head at him.

  “I want you bare inside me,” she instructed.

  Callum looked at the fire, watching the protection burn. “Peyton—”

  She grabbed his hands in hers and pulled him back on her body. “I’m on the shot.”

  Relief filled his eyes as he settled between her legs, and she felt him at her entrance. Then his hands were on the blanket as he held himself up. His eyelids were shut tightly, and Peyton refused to touch him. This wasn’t about feelings or a connection. It was about ruining her soul and memories.

  When Callum opened his eyes, she winced the moment she saw them glaze over. It wasn’t what he wanted between them—she saw it. His watery eyes brought violent throbs to her heart, the pain spreading through her.

  No.

  She wanted this to be love. Seeing the vulnerability in his eyes was a glimpse of the past. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists as her thumb smoothed over her tattooed name.

  “Callum,” she said.

  The memory of him crying this morning flashed before. But it wasn’t a memory. It was reality. Callum, naked and beautiful, had tears in his eyes.

  I want the truth.

  If I can’t, I want as close to the truth as possible.

  Peyton took a deep breath. “What’s the most honest and truthful thing you have ever said in your life?”

  He tensed, confusion sweeping over his face. “The most honest and truthful thing?”

  “Yes,” she said in a whisper.

  He didn’t answer straight away. Instead, his lips pressed on hers. Kissing her slowly and passionately. Not as rough as before. More like he was savouring and treasuring her mouth.

  Then he drew back and looked her in the eye. This time, she saw fear.

  He propped himself on an el
bow and used his hand to push back her hair before placing it back on the blanket. The different emotions that filled his eyes had her heart slowing down painfully. Waiting. His lips parted and he blinked once. Then his hips slowly thrust forward as he entered her. Stretching her.

  Ignoring the pain, she concentrated on the feel of him inside her. His heavy pants mirrored hers. He stopped mid-thrust as he held himself over her. The muscles in his neck strained as he swallowed hard, but he didn’t push further, only stilling.

  His eyes didn’t leave hers as he whispered, “I love you, Peyton,” and thrust hard and deep.

  Her heart didn’t regain its beats. Instead, it died inside her chest.

  Dropping his head into the curve of her neck, he pulled out. His heavy pants hit her skin as tears filled her eyes. Not blinking, the stars above morphed into blurry shades of black and spots of white.

  “I love you, Peyton,” Callum he said breathlessly then thrust inside her, completely filling her. He stayed inside her before he said, “That’s the most honest and truthful thing I have ever said.”

  “Say something,” Callum said quietly, still inside her.

  Breathe. Please. Breathe.

  Peyton couldn’t form words. Nothing. She kept her eyes on the night sky. With each moan of her name from his lips, she silently cried hard. She fell. Her self-control finally snapped.

  Callum kept his word. Unfortunately, he didn’t fuck her. Instead, it was slow, desperate, and passionate—something Peyton regretted. It was the final chain breaking.

  I’m in love with someone who’ll break me.

  Four and a half years—that’s how long it had been since she was last intimate. After Callum, she hadn’t been interested in being that close to someone again. Being close scared her. But here she lay. Callum Reid inside her. She wished that he’d screwed her hard and painfully. But he hadn’t.