by Leanne Davis
I shut my eyes, unable to fully look at him as I nod. “Yes.”
He isn’t gentle. His fingers invade me. His thumb strokes me and slowly circles and zeroes in on the small bud of nerves that now fully rule my body, this bed, my decisions, and for the moment, my life. I lift my hips up higher. Pressing. Begging. More. I need so much more. He finally presses and grips it between his fingers. It’s… yes. Everything. Life. Warmth. All of it starts there as his fingers drum his magic into my body. It’s easy to let my brain unplug. I lean my head back, close my eyes, lift my hips and ride his hand. His entire hand. He presses his fingers into me as his palm cups me. Now he’s pumping against me and I’m biting my lip and crying out with loud, harsh groans of pleasure. I am expressing my need and want and… finally I’m out of control. My brain and body are in sync as if rainbows infuse my bloodstream.
I blink as my awareness starts to grow. I have to bring my reeling body back to now. This bed. This quiet. Damion’s face presses against the side of mine. His breath is warm on my neck. His body is pressed against the side of mine. His erection feels like a hard, hot brick against the outside of my thigh. I blink and the ceiling comes into focus.
Fuck.
Damion.
Me.
Still, I turn and curl into him. His hand slips free of my warm, wet center. His hand is wet now, and it comes to my waist as he holds me. I slip my arm up and circle his neck. I rub the skin at the back of his neck. I kiss him and we face each other, our bodies so warm under the covers, making our skin start to sweat. I cup his face and hold him tightly as he squeezes my waist tighter. Our mouths start again as if it’s all brand new. Our tongues lick and dip into each other’s mouth in a wild, unrehearsed and comforting dance. God, it’s so good to feel connected.
I wiggle and pull my legs up to push my pants and underwear the rest of the way down my legs until they are gone. I grip the buckle of his belt. I stop kissing him and lift my face to stare into his eyes. “Yes?”
He nods. Eyes closed. I wonder what is streaming through his brain. Regret before we’ve even started? Ireena? No doubt. Is this right or wrong? I don’t know. It never would have come to this if she had lived.
But it did now that she died. I have no idea how I feel about it. Not yet. I didn’t plan any of this. At all. Never. But here I am on my knees beside Damion, pushing him on his back as my hands work to release the clasp of his belt buckle. Now I’m unlooping the leather belt from his belt loops. I keep my face down on the job before me. Setting my hands on the button of his jeans, his stomach reacts and goes in and out. I can’t believe I’m touching him. I work on the button and undo it. He wears silky black underwear that outline his erection and the tops of his thighs. Sexy as hell, it cups him and shows him off to me. I peel the sides of his jeans away as if I’m unveiling the center of a flower to my inspection. He lifts his hips as I begin tugging them down his thighs and calves, pulling them away from us. I run my hands over his long legs. Glancing at his face, his eyes are shut tightly. His mouth is half open and pleasure radiates from him. My fingertips touch the edge of the silky underwear. His breath catches as I dare to slip my fingers under them. I rub the skin on his inner thigh. His leg reacts with a slight jerk. Surprised, no doubt. Shocked. With both hands in tandem, I grab the elastic waistband and pull it down as his large, hard erection bounces free and boldly waves at me.
I shut my eyes, surprised and shocked. I want this.
He keeps his body still and his eyes shut. I have complete control. It’s both surprising and intoxicating. I touch him and his hips mimic mine of earlier. He pushes into the heat of my hand. I rub the length of him, examining the silky texture and softness. Feeling the drops at the end and spreading them all around the knob. He moans and tilts his head back. I dip my head closer and open my mouth to him. I’m not shy; I lick him, suck him, kiss him while glancing often to see the play of emotions and ecstasy on his face. He lifts his body towards me, higher as he pushes my face in an absent-minded way I don’t think he’s conscious of. When he comes, I let him finish inside my mouth and he screams his pleasure.
I kiss him on his stomach and one of his flattened nipples. It beads under my mouth and he again moans, eyes still closed as I set my mouth on his. He dives into mine with heightened eagerness that almost makes me smile. His sudden burst of energy is cute.
We are lying on our sides when my legs open to him. His hard penis is poking me. I close my eyes, enjoying the fleeting sensations and heightened anticipation. I have to shove him back and move to my nightstand to bring out a condom before sliding back into his arms. His eyes flip open and watch me open it and put it on him.
He grabs my leg and pulls my knee over his thigh. He prods me and I nod. I hold onto his neck as he presses his face right at the crook of my neck and shudders in my arms. Groaning, he pauses until he’s fully imbedded in me. He stretches me and fills me up and it’s… oh, God. It’s heavenly. It’s everything glorious. I sense only ecstasy and warmth. All that warmth again. There is a sense of deep intimacy that goes way beyond how well his body fits inside mine. He pushes his hips harder and I receive him. It’s slow at first. We are feeling each other out. Testing the waters. He pushes and pulls out several times. Then his hands grip my hips, and he holds me still as he pounds fully inside me. My eyes close and I grip his back and everything else vanishes. I roll onto my back and tug him on top of me, wanting to feel all of his weight everywhere on me. He pins me to the bed. “Yes, yes, harder. Now. Fuck me.”
I’m not screaming. My quiet words are whispered in his ear. He’s over me, and his head is still buried against me. I kiss the side of his face and he wraps his arms around me. I hold on and relish how he feels. He nods and then… unleashes. He pushes me onto the mattress, his hips suddenly pumping as he pins me. My legs split fully open for unfettered access and he presses as hard and far as we can physically go. Everything is full of him and stretching. He is hitting spots that unleash a crazy, screaming frenzy of frantic energy and fervor into my bloodstream. We are so crazy passionate, moving together in ways I can’t analyze or even understand. It’s all so fast… crazy… and wild. We are gone.
And we are one.
I love him flopping down on me, caught in the same stupor that I feel. Sweat glistens all over my body and his. My muscles are both strained and tired as they quiver from the most beautiful sensation and the harshest, most demanding orgasms of my life.
He holds me so tight, I can hardly breathe. His mouth moves over mine and he’s still half in a daze. His eyes close as he blindly searches me out to kiss and hold and clutch my body. He tries to move. I squeeze my hands and nails into his back to keep him on me. Our hearts beat together, wild and crashing until finally slowing to their normal rate and they synchronize. All my feelings and body parts are totally in sync with Damion.
For a long, wonderful time, we clutch each other. He finally slides out of me and gets up. No doubt, he is eager to get rid of the condom and clean up. When he comes out of the bathroom, I go in and do the same. I stare in my bathroom mirror. My hair, big under any circumstances, is enormous now. I finger the curls and shrug. I avoid looking into my own eyes. Guilt? I don’t know. Not yet. I can’t say for sure. It’s all too new and unexpected. And still so shocking. Yes. Totally not expected.
I click the bathroom light off behind me as I stumble back to my bed. He’s in it. Still naked? Yeah. I realize that as I run a hand out to find him. He’s naked and warm. His skin is tightly stretched over hard muscles and God, if I’m not glad.
I sigh.
Life isn’t what you ever expect it to be.
“Do we regret it?” I whisper.
He sighs deeply. His hand comes out to find me and he pulls me near. I snuggle into the side of him, wrapping my own arm around him. “I don’t know.”
“This would never have happened if Ireena were still alive.” I have a deep need to clarify everything that can’t be quieted in me.
“No. It wouldn’t
have. You were her friend. I didn’t look past that.”
“I did with you and Devon and then I didn’t. I thought you guys were hot and handsome and naive and fun, but I didn’t chase after you. I was never jealous of her either. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” He sighs and again nuzzles my neck and ear. “Do you think I have a thing for fucked-up sex and circumstances?”
I push him. “No. For God’s sake. This isn’t about Ireena. There’s no one else alive that cares. She’s a ghost and memory… and… and we’re both all fucked up by it. We’re raw and hurting and the only thing that helps is…”
“You. Us.”
I nod. My heart sinks. My own words and feelings are telling me this is… not real. Not okay. Still I clasp him, desperate for his touch and warmth and a shoulder to lie my head on.
It’s not us that drew us together. It’s really not. I close my eyes and drop my head down. He clasps me to him, his big hand running over my head, stroking my hair. I like it. I lean into it. I revel in it. But he’s not mine. He was never mine and now he will never be. He’s still Ireena’s husband. I’m Ireena’s friend and this? Is only because of her.
Tears fill my eyes and I blink them back. I don’t know if I cry because of losing her, or wanting him, or for knowing in the end, I’ll lose him. I should have never been with him to start.
His words, however, startle me. “She’d have done this.”
“Done you?” I know it’s inappropriate right now but it makes me feel better.
He lets out a short chuckle and cups my chin. “If I died, and she found comfort somewhere, she’d definitely go for it. She’d never doubt herself. She wouldn’t feel guilty afterwards.”
“No. She wouldn’t.” I lift my head up. Our gazes lock. “That’s what we both admired in her…” I shake my head, “and what bothered both of us about her. She might not have felt guilty, but we will. If she did it, it wouldn’t be about you. But us doing this?” Tears start to fall. “It’s about her.”
His eyes close. “Fuck. I didn’t pretend it was her. I did it because I wanted you.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t plan it. It just…”
“I know. I do. I didn’t consider it once. Not until we were… here. Our sense of loneliness, hurt, depression, and grief led us to seek comfort from each other. In words. In presence. In sharing. Now we touch with our bodies. It wasn’t us. There is no us.”
He lets out a long breath, his torso deflating under my hand that rests on it. “What do we do?”
“Nothing.” I let my head drop back down. “You and Dayshia go home. I go to work. We don’t ever do this again.”
The silence is thick as fog. “I want to see you still.”
I close my eyes. “No, we both just want to skip grieving. Maybe we could bounce right over it like a rock skipping over a still pond. But we don’t get to. We both have to walk through it, wading into the waters of our grief until we’re all the way over our heads and have to swim through it.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” I answer tonelessly. Hollow. Numb. “You know the truth of my words. You know you have to grieve. I have to also. We are presently convenient Band-Aids. They might work for a while but eventually, they get old and fall off or are washed away. They become crumpled, dirty, torn, bent and frayed, forgotten in the grass or sucked down the shower drain. We simply pick them off and toss them in the garbage. That’s what we’ll become.”
“Jesus, Kaeja. That’s… a little too graphic.”
“But true,” I say, my tone weary and pointed. “You can’t argue because the rational part of you knows I speak the truth. The lonely part—”
“It hasn’t been long enough for me to be lonely. It hasn’t been…” His voice trails off.
Pain infuses me. I try to logically block it. I rationalize that I knew this when it started but still it hurts. “It hasn’t been long enough for you to just be horny and lonely? No, it hasn’t been long enough. We reached out to each other from mutual grief. I don’t regret it. Despite that I should. I don’t. But come morning, in the daylight, you’ll see the truth of my words. These actions. And your true feelings. If you don’t know it yet, then you will. You really will. I just hope you’ll remember we needed each other. And that need made both of us seek comfort and that’s why we leaped at the opportunity.”
He’s quiet. His thoughts are rational now and not reacting to the hurt that made him reach for me. The human instinct to reach out for warmth, comfort and contact often provides that. He felt it with me because I understand, but the loss of Ireena holds his soul.
As it should. It’s only been five weeks. Five insignificant weeks. Five gigantic weeks that feel like five millennia. And why having sex, even if it was way too soon, was so desperate and right. In many ways it correlates to the depth of our loss and grief. Each day is unbearable so thirty-six days of it feels like thirty-six years.
I kiss his shoulder. He tightens his hand, pushing his fingers into my waist.
And that’s it. No more words. A hollowness compounds my sadness. I am missing Damion already as well as Ireena. I have no one. I have things. I have a job. I have things to do, but I have no one to do them for. And the rest of what I had and was came to me because of Ireena.
It is time to find more, for myself.
I close my eyes, letting it sink in. My head considers the future, even as I lie naked on the naked man under me, someone I’ve never had before, and I never will, except for this sparkling moment. This night. This night we have to get through.
Chapter 4
DAMION
It’s awkward, to say the least, to sleep with your wife’s best friend. Even as a way to alleviate your sadness. Then add a large cup of guilt to the lethal cocktail of negative vibes that swirl in my gut and head and heart. The morning sun awakens me… yeah, I even slept. So soundly. Curled against her warm, wonderful body. Her welcoming body. She feels totally different than Ireena. She has tight, taut, toned muscles. Her arms grasp me and manipulate me with their agility. Her thighs are large and firm and they duck into her taut, tight ass with a sharp dent. She’s strong. Soft hair rounds the sharp angles in her face. Soft, warm arms contrast with the hard indentations of her body.
This morning we slide from the bed and keep our eyes averted from each other. We don’t look for knowing glimpses or steal little, flirty peeks. There is nothing fun or flirty about this morning. About us. About this time in our lives. She shrugs into a shirt as I slide my jeans over my ass. When we are appropriately dressed, I finally address her. “Kaeja?”
She looks at me and shakes her head. “Let’s get Dayshia.”
It’s always easier to hide behind my baby girl. I nod and follow her out. We easily find a natural rhythm in talking and caring for her. Finally, Dayshia is dressed and fed, so I go to leave.
“Devon called wanting to meet with me… So I should. Maybe we could grab some dinner? Talk? I don’t know.”
She bites her lip and shakes her head. “I don’t know either. What to do or how to act.”
I leave her house. Devon comes to my apartment and I wince as I glance around. I haven’t slept here since that night I first went to Kaeja’s. In and out, I just grab what I need for Dayshia and me, like a burglar rifling the place.
Devon takes in the disarray and I wince. He thinks I’m such a mess that I can’t even set a cup in the dishwasher. I don’t even try to excuse it or offer an explanation.
“What do you think?”
I gape after Devon’s opening statements finally sink in and repeat what he just told me. “You want us to move from where we live, quit our jobs, return to our parents’ small town, buy a place together and take over our parents’ business? Am I forgetting anything?”
“Yeah. I know it sounds impossible. Crazy even—”
It gets me away from Kaeja and gives me someone else to live with, someone who isn’t Kaeja. Because I know I’m going to keep going back to her. The writing is
on the wall for me. Walking into my own apartment, I am a stranger. I’m already accustomed to going to Kaeja’s. Her bed feels like where I should sleep tonight. Not for sex. For sleep. For us. For a sense of belonging. I don’t want to be here. I feel like I’m being asked to leave here and go there. I don’t want to not go there.
But I know… God, do I know, that we are all shit-tons of mistakes. Kaeja is not Ireena. They were best friends. My wife hasn’t been dead long enough for me to say I’m okay or healed… I want Kaeja for all the wrong reasons. I sought her out. I had sex with her.
My stomach tightens. What the fuck is wrong with me? I always find the wrong reasons for my actions. I fucked over my identical twin brother to have sex I should have never indulged in with his girlfriend. I then turn around and do this. I hang my head. I’m tired of being pathetic and wrong and I don’t want to continue messing up like I have been.
I’m surprised Devon provides me with a chance, a way to steer clear of more fucked-up shit, and relationships that aren’t right. I cross boundaries that aren’t okay, and I don’t seem to know I’m doing it until it’s too late. Maybe I could stop now. Grow up. Act better. Be better. I’m desperate. I need something to fill my life and keep me from going back to Kaeja’s now, like this. Like I know I will.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll live with you and go home.”
Devon jerks back in surprise at my unexpected, hasty answer. His smile is slow as he says, “Yeah?”
“You sure you want to do this with me?” I shake my head as I press against my temples. I’m thinking of Kaeja. “I’m having a hard time. I miss her.” And I solve it by fucking her best friend… The worst part is I long to crawl next to Kaeja right now to let her soothing presence calm me and put my mind at peace. She has this aura of earthiness about her. Like she knows all the answers and being near her makes all my anxiety disappear. “And as for Dayshia… it’s all too much.”