The Regret (Heartache #2)

by Green, Vicki

  “I’m sorry …. I …. Fuck!”

  I try to move back, thinking he’s going to do it again, make me hot and wet and then apologize for kissing me but his hand grips my neck even tighter, his arm pulling me harder. God, he tastes so good. Like coffee. Suddenly, his mouth is gone but his face rubs against mine. “I can’t stop. Tell me to stop, Jolie,” he whispers. I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I’m lost in him. After all these years, after everything that’s happened to me, how can I just fall prey to him? What is it about him that beacons me? I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t want to be with him, but it’s like he’s so familiar, like he’s my past or from another lifetime, that I’ve longed to be with. This is all so strange.

  “Don’t stop,” I whisper back, my mouth moving over his jaw, finding his lips again. I cover his mouth, pushing my tongue inside, greedily, hungrily. “Please, don’t stop.”

  He releases my neck and my waist then I feel his strong hands gripping my ass, lifting me until I wrap my legs around him. He sits down in a chair, and I straddle him, our kiss never breaking. I tilt my head, making the kiss deeper. The only sounds in the room are of our heavy breathing and moans. “I want you so bad, Jolie. Fuck! I shouldn’t …. We shouldn’t….” I place my hand on the side of his face as another moan breaks free, almost choking me, my emotions tied up in knots.

  “Shhh,” I whisper as I stroke his face and kiss him again.

  He wraps his arms around me, and I feel so protected, so safe in his arms. The loss of oxygen isn’t lost on me but I can’t bear to stop.

  “Ahem.”

  The clearing of a throat makes us both turn our heads towards the door, our lips still stuck together.

  “Sorry, uh.” Hailey stutters as a blush sweeps across her cheeks, something I’ve never seen before. “There’s a guy out here that says he wants a membership. Said he knows Tanner?” She looks at me and then back at Tanner. “It’s that guy who was at Danny’s the other night.” She waves her thumb outside the door.

  I guess anyone can come and get a membership but there’s something about that guy, the way he kept staring at us at Danny’s and then last night trying to get in after closing and wanting to talk to Tanner. Something feels – off.

  “Oh, yeah. Uh…” Tanner stammers. I sit up as Hailey shuts the door. Tanner’s strong hands lift me and sets me on the floor with ease until I’m steady on my feet. “I gotta, uh …. Take care of that.” I take a step back feeling like it’s happening all over again. He’ll tell me it was a mistake, that he shouldn’t have kissed me and …. He steps over to me quickly, grabbing my face in his hands and kisses me hard, taking my breath away. I reach up and hold onto his arms until he pulls away but only far enough to look into my eyes. “That’s just until we get off work.” He winks, and I’m left breathless with my mouth open as I watch him walk out of the room.

  After he closes the door, I walk over and sit in the chair, still warm from his body. I reach up and touch my swollen lips, still feeling his lips there. God, what am I doing? The door opens, startling me, and Hailey peeks her head in, giving me a small smile. She doesn’t wait for me to invite her in. She just walks into the room, closes the door, and strides over to the desk, turns, and leans back against it, her hands gripping the edge. “So. Pretty heavy make out session, huh?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and I can’t help the smile that spreads beneath my fingers. “Gotta say that was pretty hot.” I drop my hand and let out a sigh. “Oh, shit! Not a good kisser? You know a bad kiss can ruin everything.” She tilts her head and her long dark hair that’s tied up in a high ponytail, falls down over her arm. “I guess not all hot guys can be good at everything, huh?”

  I rub my hand down my face and sit up straight. “No, he’s definitely a great kisser.” I sigh again.

  Her eyes soften. “What is it then?”

  How do I tell her that I’m scared? Me, who acts so tough? How do I tell her that for the first time in my life, I want something so badly that I shouldn’t want? How can I tell her anything knowing she won’t understand because she doesn’t know my past, my fears, and my nightmares?

  “Hey,” she whispers. She walks over and sits down next to me, putting her hand on mine. “I know what it’s like to be nervous. I’m probably not the best person to talk to you about guys, with my track record.” She laughs. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy, find the right guy. He seems to really like you. So, why not give him a chance?” She laughs, again. “Listen to me, the girl who won’t let a guy near her after everything I’ve been through.” She stops and grows serious. “Just because my life hasn’t been great with guys doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, Jolie. You’re – different.”

  “How so?” I whisper.

  She lowers her brows like she’s thinking. “I dunno. You seem strong, like you can handle things. You look like you could kick his ass if you needed to.” She laughs again, and one bursts from me too. I wish I was as strong as I looked and acted when inside I’m shaking like a leaf. “I dunno. I guess giving him a chance isn’t the worst thing you could do and who knows, maybe it will all work out.” She’s right. What’s the worst that could happen?

  He could break me to the point of no return.

  We talk for a few moments and then, taking a deep breath, I walk out of the room, looking over by the power bar area and see Tanner sitting at a table with that guy. They’re both sitting close together, like they’re conspiring or something as they talk intensely. Tanner has a piece of paper, pointing at it. Maybe he is going over the membership. I shrug and walk out to the front desk.

  It’s a long day of people coming and going. I had a few clients that I helped with their weight loss program and by the time I lock the front door, I’m exhausted. I haven’t seen Tanner for the last hour as I was busy with a client. Maybe he left. I decide to take a quick shower in the locker room before I go home. Home. To my empty apartment. Alone. Again. Once in the locker room, undress, and turn on the shower, I let out a sigh as I step in under the spray, hoping the hot water will relieve my tension. As I wash my hair, closing my eyes and tilting back my head to let the water cascade over me, the face I’ve tried so hard to forget materializes.

  “I’m gonna get you outta here, Jolie. I swear on my life I will.”

  Tears begin to intermingle with the water. I shake my head, trying to stop myself from crying over my past, something I’ve worked so very hard to do for the last seven years.

  “Where will we go, Stephen? What will we do? How will we live?” I sniff as he tightens his hold around me. So long. I’ve been waiting for so long for him to take me away and end my living nightmares. Every day I have to worry if there will be more beatings, doing everything around the house for my foster parents. They don’t care about me. I’m just their slave. They only want the money the state gives them, someone to cook and clean, fetch their beers, and beat when they get mad at anything and everything. I’m only fourteen for gosh sakes! And the way my foster dad Harold looks at me sometimes.... He’s way overweight, hardly ever takes a shower, and smells like beer and cigarettes all the time. He’s disgusting.

  “Two more years and I’ll be out on my own, Jole. I’ll get a job, do whatever it takes, and then I’ll come for you.” He kisses my temple, taking away some of my tears. He’s been my best friend since we met at the vacant lot a few years ago. He lives with foster parents too, but they don’t treat him badly, not like mine do. He’s been my rock, holding me together when I thought I’d fall apart, never to be mended again. I don’t know what I would have done without him.

  I look up at him, laying on his arm in the grass down at the vacant lot – our special place. We’ve been coming here to hide out, having some much needed alone time. The abandoned building next to it looks like one of those I saw in a movie once. Adobe type structure that appears to be built with red clay. Kind of like out in
a desert. It sits on a small hill so when we go up there to play you can look down at our lot. Sometimes we pretend it’s our home. Together.

  “Two years is a long time.” I sigh. “I wish you were eighteen now so we could leave here. He looks down at me, his dark eyes full of concern and love. Love. His love is all I know, all I ever remember having in my life. I’d cease to exist without him, crumble into tiny pieces and let the wind take me away.

  He smiles that beautiful smile I love so much, only meant for me. “It’s not that long and I’ll be around whenever you need me.”

  “Just like always,” I whisper.

  “Just like always.”

  I lived in a split level house with only a few steps that lead to the upstairs and my room was on the other side, away from my foster parent’s room. He would come in through my window late at night, or I would climb out using the tree that reached up to my room and meet him at the lot. The lot was only a few houses down the street and around the corner. Stephen had told me the building there used to be a grocery store years ago, but it sat there empty. Since the area behind it is so overgrown with grass and weeds, we can hide there, be by ourselves, and escape reality for a short time.

  By the end of that year, he came to my window one night, but he wouldn’t look at me, just tilted his head to the outside and told me to come. I didn’t question him but I knew something wasn’t right. He looked so pale, like he hadn’t slept or eaten in a couple of days. I was worried about him. I quickly stepped into my worn and faded jeans and put on a sweater over my pajamas, grabbed my holey blanket, climbed out of my window, and followed him silently to our special place. I spread out the blanket and we both laid down on our backs, looking up at the star filled sky, something we did a lot. Finally, he started talking, almost in a whisper. He wouldn’t look at me, he just kept staring up at the sky.

  “A man is adopting me.”

  I froze, afraid even to breathe.

  He lets out a small laugh and runs his hand through his hair, something he does when he’s upset. “I don’t know why he wants a sixteen year old. Something about always wanting a son.” I swallow hard and nod to myself. I turn over on my side, resting my head in the palm of my hand and smile, trying to be encouraging but inside I’m crumbling.

  “That’s great, Stephen. You can be officially in a family now,” I say trying to sound happy for him. I mean, I am happy for him. Every kid in foster care dares to hope to be adopted, to be part of a family forever. I know it’s a dream that I have.

  His eyes shift to mine, but he doesn’t smile. He looks back up into the sky, and I know something is wrong. So wrong. “Thing is, he lives in Idaho.” No! Oh, my God! No! I turn back onto my back, trying to keep my tears from falling. Stupid tears! I should be happy for him. I am happy for him, but that means he’ll move far away. Who will comfort me when my stupid foster parents hit me, make me cry? Selfish, Jolie! You’re being so selfish! I turn back over and get in my former position and wipe angrily at my falling tears and put on a smile.

  “That’s great, Stephen. Really! I’m so happy for you.” My voice is shaking. I don’t think I’m being very convincing. He’s leaving me. My rock. My heart. How will I go on without him?

  Suddenly, he grabs my arm and pulls me into his side. My head lays on his chest and as he wraps his arms around me tightly, those stupid tears begin to fall again getting his t-shirt wet. He rubs my arm, letting out a big sigh. “I’m coming back for you, Jolie,” he says with conviction. “I mean it. You just do what you have to do to survive and I’ll come back. I won’t let you down. I promise.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself. I just have to hold onto his words, believe that he’ll come for me. I don’t know if I can make it another four years without him in this horrible place. “I swear to you, Jolie, on everything I am. I will come for you.”

  But he never came.

  I let out a sob, the hurt hitting me hard all over again, then quickly stand up straight and wash myself. Seven years is a long time to get over someone, and I’ve never really let him go. I’m not sure I ever can. After rinsing off, I shut off the faucet and grab the towel I’d put on the hook outside the shower. I need to clear my head of these memories, and I’m not sure why they’re all bombarding me lately. I’ve pushed them so far back in my mind over the years, and it’s like they’re all coming back to the surface again. After wrapping the towel around me and tucking a piece of it into between my breasts to secure it, I walk over to my bag on the counter and take out my brush and blow dryer. I start brushing through my hair, glad that I keep it short. I love the different colors I put in my hair and notice I need to get to the store to get more dye as it’s beginning to fade. Once I’ve detangled my hair, I plug in my dryer and turn it on, loving the feel of the heat blowing across me. I close my eyes as the air moves over my face, trying to get the front strands dry.

  I’m lost in the humming of the dryer when strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back against a broad chest. I gasp, my eyes opening quickly, my heart beating so hard until I see Tanner behind me. He reaches up and shuts off my dryer, setting it down on the counter. I watch him in the mirror as his hand moves to my front, slowly pulling at the towel. My breathing accelerates as I watch the towel open then feel it fall down to the floor. No words are spoken, my eyes snapping to his in the mirror. The look in his eyes are filled with lust, desire – hunger. I feel embarrassed standing here naked but I don’t show it. I won’t let him intimidate me. His hands move up my nakedness and reach my breasts, holding them firmly. I’m having a hard time keeping my head raised, wanting to lull back against his shoulder at the sensations of his hands. My body betrays me, wetness pooling in between my legs quickly. I look in the mirror, watching his hands knead my breasts, feeling their weight. A moan escapes me as his thumbs roll over my hardened nipples, then he pinches them and my head falls back onto his shoulder. I keep my eyes on what he’s doing but the sensations are overtaking me, and it’s becoming difficult to keep them open. They follow his hand down my flat stomach, as it slides in between my legs and gently pushes against my right leg, opening me up for him. I should stop this. I should want to stop this, but I don’t. His hand moves down further, all the while his left hand is still kneading my breast, his magical fingers tweaking my nipple. I’m heading for sensory overload when his right hand cups me between my legs, his fingers sliding up and down my wetness with ease.

  I feel his warm breath in my right ear then shiver as he whispers, “Is that for me? So fucking wet. Dripping. Fuck!”

  He falls silent once again, moving a finger inside me. I gasp with the contact, my head moves back and forth on his shoulder, my eyes closing as my body quivers with need. My hips begin to buck as he adds another finger. His thumb covers my aching clit, and the orgasm that threatened me earlier starts to excel. My legs begin to shake as he continues his delicious torture but suddenly he stops. My eyes snap open, wondering why, when he grabs my waist, turns me, and lifts me up onto the counter. It’s not very wide, just enough for me to sit and lean back slightly against the mirror, aligning with him perfectly where I need him to be. He takes a step back and begins to disrobe, pulling his shirt off his head, showing me his amazing tattoos. I look up into the mirror across from us, as he removes his jeans, giving me a magnificent view of his ass. His skin is fairly tanned with the exception of his ass, displaying the tan lines below his waist and down to about mid-thigh.

  “Do I need a condom or are you good? I’m clean,” he asks, his voice gruff with his desire.

  I look down and stop myself from biting into my lower lip in nervousness. “I’m on the pill and clean. I’m good.” Oh, my God! This is really going to happen? Should I let it or should I stop him now? God, I’m so horny and need him so badly! This is so out of character for me, but somehow it feels so right. Go with your gut.

  He steps out of his jeans, kicking them aside with
his foot. I can’t stop myself from looking down. He’s commando and his hard cock is jetting out proudly. I swallow at the size. That’s gonna hurt a bit. I self-consciously lick my lips as he grabs it with his hand, stroking it roughly. Shit! That’s so hot! He strokes it a few times then releases it, and I swear it’s grown. He walks towards me, the anticipation of feeling him inside me overwhelming. He places his hands on my thighs, spreading me, never taking his eyes from mine. He wraps his hands around the backs of my legs, pulling me down a bit until I fear I might fall off. Being on the counter, his eyes are level with mine, and I feel the intensity of his stare. Suddenly, he pushes inside me with no warning, and my hands instinctively grab ahold of his large shoulders, hanging on for dear life as we both moan with the contact. He pushes harder. A brief sear of pain moves through me but then pleasure takes its place. He’s so large I feel full of him. I close my eyes, my head hitting back against the mirror as I meet his thrusts, wrapping my legs around him. He groans, his face planting into my neck, as he roughly moves in and out in such a quick pace.

  “God dammit!” he says into my neck.

  His hands move to my waist, holding on tightly as I hold onto his shoulders with as much force, my butt slipping and sliding on the counter as my orgasm begins to build in intensity. Suddenly, he releases one of my legs, and I cry out as he starts rubbing my clit, hard and fast. “I can’t – I want…” I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence as tingles build in my stomach and flashes of a bright light invade my closed eyelids.