The Rebellion

by S. L. Scott

  After untucking her shirt, I slide my hands under it, feeling her silky skin beneath. “Can I take this off?”

  She nods and starts on the buttons. I’m about to fucking rip the rest off, but I don’t want to upset her and I have a feeling ripping her shirt might do that. I slip it down her arms and toss it to the other end of the couch. “The skirt.” I don’t ask this time. I stand up and pull her to her feet as we both start stripping down.

  Her eyes linger over my chest. When her skirt comes down, her hands are on my biceps. “You’re hot, you know that?” She laughs. “I’m sure you’re told that all the time.”

  I don’t have to guess what she really means. She’s probably seen the gossip all over from the tabloids to the shows to the online blogs who have nothing better to do than stalk the band and me and print whatever shit they dig up. I bring her warm body against mine. “Hey, I like that you think you I’m hot. I think you’re gorgeous.”

  Her hands run over my chest and so quietly, she asks, “Can I see it?”

  I know what she means and I suddenly feel self-conscious, but I turn anyway. The tips of her finger trace each letter of the ink. R. E. B. E. L. Her lips press to my back and her head leans against me momentarily. Coming around, she whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

  The air between us thickens and I kiss her. “I missed you so much.” We lean our heads together, taking the seconds to slow things down. She’s about to take off her bra, but I cover her hands. “Let me.”

  This time it’s not just a part of the process, it’s a fucking gift I’ve been given. “I can’t believe Jaymes Anne-Marie Grenier is standing in front of me.” I say it because fuck it all. I’m not sure why I expected her to be so different, and she is in ways, but all for the better, if that is even possible. But one thing is for sure. She still owns me.

  With a soft smile resting on her lips, she tries to hide her eyes from me. I’m not having it. I tilt her chin up and say, “Watch me while I watch you.” I tuck one finger under the left strap and another under the right before I pull them up and around her shoulders until they’re hanging down.

  She’s not comfortable under my heavy gaze, but I want her to experience being cherished again, being loved, being treated like the goddamn queen she is. Reaching around her, I unclasp the bra at her back and let the pink lace fall between us.

  Standing there, her arms start to move, start to reach up and cover herself. “No, you’re beautiful. Don’t hide from me.”

  The pink in her cheeks darkens and she nods. I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder. “You’re mine now.”

  Through fits of giggles, I traverse the stairs and run down the hall to my room. She lifts her head up and says, “Nice room, playboy.”

  The name doesn’t bother me. It motivates me to prove her wrong. When I lay her down, dark hair fans over the white sheets. My heart beats faster in awe that I have this woman in my bed again.

  “You’re staring at me,” she says, pulling the sheets up to her nose.

  I gulp, the weight of this very moment hitting me. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Me either. Now join me before you make me regret staying. You’re making me feel self-conscious.”

  Lying down next to her, I pull the sheet low enough to expose the perfection of her tits. Fuck me. “Every part of you is gorgeous. I’m just the lucky bastard that gets to appreciate it.” I lower just enough to kiss her neck until she relaxes again. She molds to my body, every soft part of her fits to my hard ridges. “You feel that, baby?”

  Her answer comes on the tail end of a heaving breath, “What?”

  “This. How perfect our bodies fit together. We were made for each other.” I run the tips of my fingers under the lace that keeps us apart. I slide down to take a nipple that matches the natural pink of her lips after I’ve kissed her for hours into my mouth. Lightly teasing with my teeth, her back arches, and a harsh intake of air fills her lungs. Slowly, I move her underwear to the side and slip my fingers through her lower lips. “You’re so wet for me, baby. Just like you always were.”

  “Derrick?”

  Running my tongue over her breast, I then move to the other and bite just hard enough to illicit another of her sweet gasps before looking up. For someone virtually naked under me right now, she looks shy all of a sudden. “Yeah?”

  “It’s been a while,” she starts, then wraps her arms over my shoulders. “I’m nervous.”

  The frenzy that was twisting inside loosens just a little and I smile. Positioning myself between her legs, I make sure I’m eye level, and run my hands through her hair. “I want you to enjoy this. If we need to slow down, we can.”

  “I think I need that.” She turns away from me and stares out the window.

  I whisper, “Okay,” then lean down and kiss her cheek because I feel her slipping away from me emotionally. Something in her gaze is leaving the here and now and disappearing into her thoughts. Taking her chin, I turn her back so she’s looking at me. “Hey, you want to talk about it?”

  Her head is shaking before she even replies, “No. I want to just feel. I don’t want to think or talk at all. Kiss me. Make love to me. Just make me forget.”

  “I don’t want you to forget this. I won’t, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Not this. This I want. I want you. I just don’t want to think about anything but this right now, us.”

  “Okay.” I kiss her. My desire to be everything this beautiful creature needs overwhelms any needs of my own. Our bodies tangle and soon our legs are twisted and moving together. “You’re so beautiful.” Her breath responds when she can’t. “I’ve missed you.” I’m rewarded with her nails digging into my skin, urging me for more. “I want you so fucking much.”

  “Take me, Derrick. Like you used to.”

  No way will I fuck this woman. We fucked a lot but we made love more. That’s what she needs—love. That’s what she has—all of mine. Going lower, I leave wet kisses down her body and blow on her skin creating goosebumps across her tan, smooth skin.

  Toying with her underwear between my teeth, I finally decide fuck it and take the fuckers off. I’m keeping them though. I tuck them under the covers where I know I’ll find them later. Returning back to her pretty pussy, I inhale. Her desire is intoxicating. Like a recovering Jaymes addict, being given a hit after so long makes me feel drunk. My thoughts are lucid as I devour her, and then tease, flicking her clit with my tongue until her hips buck. I hold her down and fuck her with my tongue. The way she pulls my hair sends the blood right to my cock. Hard as Fort Knox, I want to fuck, but I remind myself that it’s love we’re making tonight. Like I teased her nipples earlier, I tug lightly on her clit between my teeth and insert a finger just below. Speaking of Fort Knox. She’s not lying. She’s tight as fuck.

  Holy shit.

  The hold on one finger makes it damn hard to add another. And if I can’t add another or more, there’s no way my dick’s going to fit. “Relax, baby. I’ll go slow.”

  She nods and takes a deep breath. I feel her viselike grip on me loosen and I kiss her lips like I’d kiss her mouth—slowly, appreciatively. This is my chance to make things right. I’ll do anything for her. Anything.

  I carefully add another finger and pause. Her ribs expand and her breath is heard as she adjusts to the new size. “You okay?” I ask just to make sure.

  “Fine. I want you in me.”

  “I will be, but I want it to feel good too.”

  Her body relaxes even more after that and I ease all the way in, spreading my fingers and pulling out and then pushing back in. With my lips still on her clit, I suck lightly and add pressure. I can hear her breathing change from air to soft mewls as her fingers twist in my hair. She’s getting close so I pick up the speed and go deeper. I’m rewarded with tremors ripping through her body as she releases so hard that my fingers are squeezed tight. “Oh my . . . Derrick!” she cries and I continue to fuck her into her oblivion of ecstasy until her body calms
and her eyes open. Emotions race across her face, but the bliss still sits on her lips and grows when she smiles. “Now, babe. I need you now. So badly.”

  Babe.

  Finally. Fucking finally. I haven’t heard it since the day I left and I’ve missed it every day since. To be rewarded with her orgasm and the moniker, I’m hard as a fucking rock. I almost sink into her, but remember protection. Fuck. I reach over into my nightstand drawer, causing her to watch me—reality setting back in. I don’t want to lose this feeling between us so I’m fast with the condom and repositioned between her legs in seconds. And for good measure, I kiss her because that’s all I want to do with her when I’m not making love to her.

  Just as our tongues touch, I push in and she moans.

  Pause.

  Acclimate.

  Pause.

  Acclimate.

  I lift up. She says, “I want you. All of you. You feel so good. Don’t make me beg, babe.”

  “You’re so fucking sexy.” I’m buried to the hips with adept speed. I’m tempted to pause again but she starts wiggling for me to move, so I give the woman what she wants.

  So fucking tight. Two fingers don’t prepare her, but she takes me like she owns me.

  She does.

  The thought sends me on a high I haven’t had in forever. I thrust and pull, fuck, and love her, making up for every goddamn minute I wasn’t with her doing exactly this right here.

  It doesn’t take much—it’s Jaymes. I’m in heaven again. Her body mine. Her mind mine. Her soul mine to keep forever. My orgasm hits hard and fast taking punches along the way. My body collapses, drained of years of the pent-up need and want I held in a locked box now set free again.

  I love her.

  I still love her so fucking much.

  She was always meant to be in my arms. I roll over and settle her on top of me. She’s mine. Only and always fucking mine. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my chest.

  “I’ve always been yours.”

  My body stills when I realize I said that out loud for her to hear. I relax back just as fast. I don’t care if she knows. She should, but then I feel it. It’s subtle at first; her body trembles. At first I think she’s cold, so I grab the sheet and pull it over us. Even with it covering us completely, I feel it again. That’s when I lean back to get a better look. “Hey?”

  Not looking up, she answers on a shaky breath, “What?”

  “Look at me.”

  “No, let me rest.” She tries for lighthearted, but I can see through the quiver in her voice.

  “Jaymes?” I hate how demanding I sound. When she finally looks up, I see it. Watery eyes blurring the bright green that had just been there. Sage and moss instead of brilliance and emeralds. When she blinks, tears slip down her cheeks and land on my chest. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not,” she replies, sitting up, and swiping under her eyes.

  I can tell she’s about to bolt, so I grab her wrist. “Talk to me.”

  “I need a minute. All right?” Her tone has turned, so I release her, and let her go. Rolling to my side, I watch as she disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.

  Staring at the door, I debate if I should check on her not. I don’t remember her having moods after we had sex. This is new territory. Maybe this is what happens when two pasts collide in the present. For me, it feels right. I feel that I’ve found the missing piece of my life. Of my heart. Of me. But for her? Even though my life has been going full throttle for years now, it’s as though in reality I’ve stood still. Waiting for her. Waiting for us to be together again. But she’s made a completely new life. Literally. Maybe I’m deluding myself that she could still love me. She didn’t say I’d loved earlier, and I had heard that as a possible I still love you. Maybe we’re only colliding momentarily.

  Maybe this is what we are now—shifting tides under the evening sky.

  No. That is not what I want.

  Fuck it. I toss the sheet off and go to the bathroom. Knocking lightly, I call to her, “Jaymes, can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  Her response makes me glad I made the effort. If I can make her smile again, I’ll do the best I fucking can. I open the door and see her small frame wrapped in my large black robe. Sitting on the edge of the whirlpool tub, her face contrasts the darkness that surrounds her from her hair to the robe to the dark night in the window behind her. I keep my tone low, the vibe feeling like I should, when I ask, “You okay?”

  “Your bathroom is the same size as my bedroom.”

  Looking around, I smile. “Yeah. It’s big.”

  “Who cleans it?”

  “Not me.”

  “Thought as much.”

  “Can I sit?”

  “Sure. It’s your house.” I might be wrong, but that sounded like there was a little disdain in the way she said it. Letting it slide, I don’t worry about that shit. This is new. I once had to adjust too. I owe her more than just an expectation of acceptance. Grabbing the other robe from my closet, I put it on before sitting down on the tub next to her. “You have two of these robes? What are you the king of England these days?”

  Chuckling, I reply, “Something like that. I actually didn’t buy them, but I do dig them.”

  Running her fingers over the gold embroidered initials over her heart, she says, “I dig them too. This is the softest material. What is it?”

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  “Thank God some things don’t change. I’d be worried if you cared enough to know. That’s never been who you are.”

  “Who am I, Jaymes? To you, who do you see when you look at me?”

  “A dream I once had.”

  Nodding, I look down and pick at the soft threads. That’s a lot of heavy considering what I just said in bed. “Why did you cry?”

  “I have a feeling you’re not going to let that one slide.”

  Putting my arm around her back, I hold her to my side. “Is that what you want?”

  “For the time being I do.”

  As much as I want to know, I need to give her the space she needs or I’ll lose her again. “I’ll respect your wishes.”

  That brings a smile to her face. “Just like a great king would. Granting wishes.” She stands up and moves between my legs. This time she takes my face in her hands. Runs the tip of her finger over my lips and then drags her gaze up to my eyes. “Thank you,” she says and it sounds like she means more than not badgering her about the tears.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Her lips meet mine and just like we started, we end our night with a gentle kiss that feels like more than any casual caress. It feels like us. Again.

  17

  Jaymes

  “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

  I roll my eyes while sitting at a stoplight. I haven’t even hit the freeway and I’m already regretting what I just did. My phone rings, plucking me out of my head right before I tailspin. “Hello?”

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  Smiling, I say, “I thought you’d be asleep by now. You wore me out. I was hoping I did the same for you.”

  “I’ve never felt better. I feel like I could conquer the world right now.”

  “You can. You even have the robes for it.”

  “Robe. Singular.”

  I run my hand over the plush material draped across my lap again, for like the two hundredth time since I left. “Thank you for giving me the robe.”

  “Promise me you’ll wear it and think of me.”

  “I don’t have to be wearing a robe to think of you. Tonight . . .” I pause. I want to say was perfect. Amazing. Incredible. I should be telling him that it can’t happen again, but somehow, after saying the words and then going back on them physically, I feel like it would be a bitchy thing to tell him. Instead, I struggle for what I need to say over what I want to say. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I wish I could live in your dream. “I’m—”

  “Sor
ry. Yes, I know, although I was hoping you wouldn’t go there again. I don’t believe you’re playing games with me, but I do wonder if you went with your feelings instead of your head if you’d arrive at the same outcome.”

  “Derrick, please.”

  “No, hear me out because I’ve been thinking about this. There is no good reason your head should be denying me either. We come together so easy, so quickly—”

  “That’s just sex.” I hate the lie. I hate that I just said that to the man I’ve loved forever. The line goes quiet for several discomforting seconds, so I ask, “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.” His silence becomes deafening and I feel sick to my stomach. “Okay, Jaymes. Thanks for coming over.”

  “Derrick, wait—”

  The call goes quiet and I know he’s hung up. Shoot.

  I immediately call him back, although it’s probably best if he chooses not to answer. Just when I think I’m going to be sent to voicemail, he answers, “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t destroy something that was good. Tonight was good. Tonight was fucking great. Let’s not ruin it in the aftermath. Fine, you don’t want to come over again. That I can work with, but you throwing a verbal grenade into our conversations does more than end them. It destroys them.” It destroys me too.

  I’m about to apologize because I feel like shit for being mean to him, but also because he’s right. When it comes to him, I’m leaving a destructive path in my trail while trying to find a better life. He won’t understand why, but that’s still not an excuse.

  “It doesn’t matter how much you push me away, and yes, I know that’s what you’re doing. I don’t know why, but I see it. I see the conflict in your eyes when you look at me and say words you don’t mean. I let you walk out my door tonight without a fight. That is the only regret I have. If you have regrets, I hope when you look back they don’t damage what we did, what we mean to each other, or what we are when we’re together, because that would be a damn shame.”