Conflicting Hearts

by J. D. Burrows

  I nod in an agreement, because I’m certainly staying out of this argument. He swings his legs out of bed, and gets to his feet. Quickly, he takes Susan by the upper arm and escorts her down the stairs.

  “Why are you in bed with that trash?” she snaps at him.

  I sit straight up in bed and scoot to the end so I can see them at the other end of the great room. They’re standing by the sliding glass door. She’s postured in his face. Ian is raking both his hands through his unruly hair, but holding it together.

  “Would you stop yelling at me?” he calmly asks.

  “Why are you with her?” she yells again.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  “What are you doing here anyway?” His face turns into an angry scowl.

  “I ended my trip early and thought I would surprise you, and it is my business! She’s in our bed in our house, you bastard!”

  Ian raises his palm in the air like he’s halting oncoming traffic. “Now wait a minute. Last I knew this was my house and my bed. We are still divorced, and you don’t fit into the equation of property ownership.”

  Susan’s face seethes. I can see her turning multiple shades of red from where I’m sitting. This is not good.

  “You bastard, see if I’ll ever take you back now.” She snarls at him.

  “You act like taking me back is doing me some kind a favor. That’s a bunch of horseshit, Susan,” Ian spits back at her. “You just lost the last man you failed to control, now you want to weasel yourself back in my life and start controlling me again. Well, it isn’t happening.”

  Way to go, Ian! I think to myself.

  To my utter horror, she hauls off and slaps him in the face really hard. I want to jump up and run downstairs to strangle the woman. It’s all I can do to contain myself. Ian doesn’t react. He merely holds out his hand palm up.

  “I want the key back that I gave you. Then, get the hell out of my house.”

  “Fine,” she says, taking it off her key ring. She throws it against the wall and glares at him like a witch. “I hope you rot in hell with your whore.”

  Susan turns around, stomps toward the door, and slams it on her way out. Ian disappears, and I hear him lock it behind her. I scoot back toward the headboard and wait for his return. He looks frazzled when he reaches the landing.

  “I’m really sorry about that, Rachel,” he says, crawling back in bed. “Come here.”

  I quickly scoot to his side and let his arms encircle me. Does this mean I won? A flood of relief flows through my veins that she’s gone, but I have to hear it from his lips.

  “Are you done with her, Ian?” My voice is trembling.

  “Done.”

  He turns my face up toward him and kisses me. Ian’s tongue enters my mouth, and I’m putty in his hands. A moment later, he looks into my eyes. “I love you Rachel, and I’m not letting you go…ever.”

  Oh, my God, I can’t believe the sincere adoration in his eyes. It’s impossible to contain myself, and I hug him tightly. “I love you too, Ian.”

  We hold each other, and I revel in the moment of being in his arms. The embrace between us is warm and inviting.

  “I need you, Rachel—need you bad.”

  I know what he means, and I want him too. The no-sex gig is off.

  “Then I’m yours,” I tell him sweetly, touching his reddened cheek where Susan slapped him. “Why don’t you take my bra and panties off and let me comfort you.” Wow, I can’t believe that came out of my mouth.

  “You sure?” He’s hesitating, but I don’t want him to wait.

  “I love you Ian, and I want you to make love to me.”

  He tenderly strokes the side of my face and smiles sweetly. “I love you too, Rachel, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you—make love.”

  Oh, God, I can’t believe this is happening to me. Jack was right. I want Ian to love me, and he does. My whole body feels as if warm honey has been poured upon me. He kisses me with sweet passion, and my tongue swirls around his. I’m aching for him.

  My body begins to tremble as his warm hands embrace me. He slips his smooth palm across my breasts, down my waist, and over my thighs and legs. My panties and bra disappear somewhere between kisses. His mouth finds my nipple, and he sucks on it making it erect in his mouth.

  The whole experience is dreamlike. I can sense his love through his fingertips, and I arch as his fingers slide up my inner thigh and enter me. The door in the back of my mind is closed, and a new awareness of self-worth keeps it shut. I trust him and have no doubt of his sincerity as his love begins to consume me with his skillful hands.

  Ian takes his time to make sure I’m enjoying every movement of his long fingers, while he kisses me and keeps my legs parted.

  “You like it like this?” he asks in a dreamy voice, as he stimulates me with one hand and fondles my breast with another.

  I look at him like a drugged woman and nod.

  After a few moments of deep penetration, I feel him take my wetness and spread the lubrication. His actions surprise me.

  “What about this,” he asks, with a devious looks upon his face. He takes his finger out and inserts his thumb instead, and then slides his middle finger gently backward and brings pressure against his penetration into my vagina. I can’t believe what he’s done!

  “Oh, my God, Ian, you’re driving me crazy. What are you doing?” I’m literally having spasms of pleasure over his little trick. My eyes widen with astonishment that he even knows how to do that or wants to, for that matter. I see him hovering over me with a self-assured smile, and I wonder if he’s been reading dirty magazines to find ways to do me.

  “What do you think I’m doing to you, Rachel Ann Hayward?” He pushes his thumb into me deeper. “I’m making you wet and ready for me.”

  I moan in the pleasure. It’s almost unbearable, and I never thought I would ever think those thoughts.

  “Ian,” I beg, gasping for breath. “Please, stop.”

  “You don’t like?” he says, pulling his thumb and finger out and looking a tad disappointed.

  “I love it, but I need you now. Fill me,” I beg. I sound desperate.

  Ian licks his lips and stares into my eyes. There’s a wicked glint in his gaze as he stands up, takes off his pajama bottoms, and exposes himself to me. He reaches for the nightstand drawer and grabs a condom.

  “Oh, so you want my cock, is that it?”

  God, he’s talking dirty and driving me berserk. When he’s through with the protection, I wish he didn’t have to wear, he climbs on top of me. I open my legs to receive him. Slowly, he slips inside of me and thrusts deep. My eyes roll back in my head, and then he starts his movements. He’s more aggressive, but still laced with tenderness. The fullness feels incredible, and I lose myself to the sensations.

  His hands slip underneath my buttocks, and he pulls me up into him and angles my body to bring more pressure. Back and forth he glides deeply into me. He’s pressed hard against my clitoris, and it’s sending shivers through my body. The feeling is glorious and intense. My legs are wrapped around his waist so that his penetration is deep and unhindered.

  “Rachel,” he whispers with a heavy breath. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

  I do. His blue-eyed gaze is piercingly intense.

  “You’re the most delicious woman, I’ve ever known,” he says. “You have no idea how tight and wonderful you feel inside, sweetheart.”

  His breathing gets heavier, and he doesn’t take his eyes off me. The sexual tension in my body is rising to a place of explosion. I start to close my eyes again to go to that dark place, but he gives me a command.

  “No, Rachel. Don’t go there. Keep looking at me.”

  My eyes shoot open, and I look into his face. I’m mesmerized by his call to remain.

  “Look at me and think about what I’m doing to you right now. Feel it,” he exhales, with a deep voice.

  Oh, my God,
I can barely handle it. It’s almost there—at that place where you peak and know at any moment that ecstasy will throw you over the side into pleasurable oblivion. Our eyes are fixed upon one another, and I’m lost in his love.

  “Keep looking at me, Rachel. Don’t leave me.” He lowers his head and fervently kisses me, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth.

  Ian will not let me go into that dark room. He’s purposely keeping me there with him, as if he owns me and rules me now instead of my past. It’s insane to think I’m so close to actually experiencing it with a man who is drowning me in passionate love. I don’t want bondage. I want Ian’s lovemaking, and that’s all my mind feels—his pressing fullness making me one with him.

  He releases my mouth and looks at me again. “Come on, Rachel, give it to me. I want to feel it.”

  His thrusting intensifies, and then it happens—I burst with pleasure. “Oh, my God,” I scream like a wild woman. My hands grab his back and a rush of sweet release fills my abdomen. Ian is right there with me, and with one hard thrust, he groans loudly over his own climax.

  This is insane, I scream in my mind. The orgasm is a deep, lingering and pleasurable as it flows through my body. I’m overwhelmed that he’s captivated me in love. It’s too much, and the tears start rolling down the side of my face and into the pillow.

  “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks tenderly, stroking my face with the palm of his hand. Ian looks sadly at me, but stays inside of me. I don’t want him to pull out. I want to be part of him forever.

  “Nothing,” I blubber. “I’m just so thankful for you because you love me…really love me.”

  A small smile parts his lips as he looks adoringly at me underneath him. “I’m thankful for you too, Rachel. You’re the best accident I’ve ever had.”

  I glory in the release that flows through my head to my toes. Ian is indeed one gracious gift from heaven above.

  Chapter 25

  They Do Exist

  I’m back at work Monday morning and feeling wonderful. My appointment with Dr. Grayson is after work, and I’m anxious to tell her about the weekend. You wouldn’t think that having an orgasm, without the thought of bondage and pain, would be front page news, but for me it was a milestone.

  I know that I can’t quit now, and I don’t intend to either. Ian means the world to me, and I want to totally recover. There are still lingering fears and doubts, but with help, I’m hoping to slay the remainder of the demons behind that closed door.

  After I arrive at her office, I relay to Dr. Grayson the entire story of seeing Ian, my weekend meeting his family, and Susan’s uninvited arrival. She sits there with her mouth open, listening to my tale. When I get to the orgasm part, she looks surprised and pleased.

  “Why do you think that happened, Rachel?”

  It doesn’t take me long to figure it out. “Because I opened my heart to him. I believed what he told me, that he loved me, and I didn’t doubt it.” I paused for a moment. “I trusted.”

  “Do you have any fears that it won’t last?”

  “Some,” I admit, fiddling with the corner of the pillow on the divan. “But, I trust Ian. He’s a different kind of man, and I know he’ll treat me respectfully no matter what happens in the future.”

  “So you met his family? How did that go?”

  “Ian didn’t tell me that it was coming, so I didn’t have much of a chance to balk over the idea.” I shake my head, thinking of his sneaky trick. “They were exceptionally nice. Oh, and you won’t believe this.”

  “What?”

  “His brother is a shrink—I mean a psychiatrist.”

  “Really, well, I’ll be damned,” she spouts an unprofessional utterance. “How did that go over?”

  “We had a really good conversation. I hope you don’t mind, but Ian had told him about my background, and of course, he had concerns. It was crucial for me to let him know about my progression in therapy.”

  “Did he give you any advice you found worthy?”

  “Well, he confirmed a lot of what we’ve talked about here. He gave a good analogy about wiping the hard drive of my brain clean and reinstalling new software.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Dr. Grayson smirks.

  “Yeah.”

  “And he was right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I, in time, would respond to love and not abuse. I think that’s what happened when Ian told me how he felt.”

  “So, tell me, Rachel, what are you plans now?”

  “To stay in this office as long as I need to, frankly. Is that okay with you?”

  “Of course, it is. There are still some areas we need to work through.”

  “I know.”

  “Why don’t you make a note of those this week, and come back with a list of the challenges you think remain in your life. We’ll tackle those in the months ahead.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m assuming that you’re going to continue seeing Ian?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She jots a few more notes. We talk a little more, and then I’m out the door and back to life. For the first time in years, I actually feel deep joy in my heart.

  * * * *

  The months pass. Work is work. Ian is tied to his law firm desk. I’m still making my appointments with Dr. Grayson. We spend the weekends together at his beach house.

  Ian and I let our relationship grow as it should. My propensity for bondage and torture in bed is nearly non-existent now, as I allow him to love me and receive his love in return. However, I’ve noticed that Ian has loosened up a bit in the sack, too, which makes me happy. He’s learning new tricks that he finds pleasure in.

  The only place he never forces me to go is oral sex. I’ve been entirely honest with him that I can’t handle it, and I don’t know if I ever will. The male penis, as much pleasure as it gives when inserted into my body, makes me gag at the thought of it in my mouth. It’s still hard for me to look at one with any desire—it’s only the touch and feel it brings to me inwardly that I like.

  I’ve talked extensively to Dr. Grayson about my aversion, and she thinks it’s because my abuser forced it upon me as a child. My innocent eyes saw a part of a man’s body that I was not mature enough to handle. Though I don’t remember him bringing it to my mouth, the revulsion remains in my subconscious. Each time I saw him brandish his erection, it deeply affected the way I relate to the male appendage, even today.

  Ian, however, understands totally. He’s not that crazed about oral sex either, which confirms to me that we’re a pretty good match. He doesn’t feel slighted because I don’t suck on him, and I don’t feel bad he’s not doing me either. I’m learning to please him in other ways, as he teaches me some of his pleasure points that I can handle and the fun new positions we’re trying.

  Jack and Karen have moved to Portland and purchased a house in the swanky neighborhood of Lake Oswego. We helped them get settled into their new lives. Karen has become a close friend. We talk often on the phone and have an occasional lunch out. She is the first woman I’ve ever met that I don’t feel threatened by, and I know that’s part of my healing.

  Three months after Jack and Karen move, Ian’s parents fly up from San Francisco to see the boys. To celebrate, we all have dinner at the Portland City Grill downtown. It’s my first time there, and the view is spectacular from the thirtieth floor in the US Bancorp Tower.

  As we ascend in the elevator, Ian has his arm around my waist. He looks handsome, as usual, dressed in a dark suit. I’m in the tight black dress that he likes, wearing a real gold necklace and earrings, which he gave to me as a gift a month earlier.

  We step off the elevator, and I sense that he’s nervous about the evening ahead. His hand around my waist is cold like ice, which is unusual. I wonder why the anxiety on his part.

  When we arrive, I find out that we’re eating in a small, private dining room. As soon as we walk in, Jack, Karen, Bill, and Grace
all brandish a welcoming smile over our arrival.

  “Rachel, it’s so good to see you.” Grace comes over and gives me a hug. Ian shakes his dad’s hand. Everybody is grinning from ear to ear. I’m beginning to wonder if Jack and Karen are going to announce she’s pregnant tonight, which would be nice, because I know they’ve been trying for some time. I’m surprised we’re cloistered away like one big happy family behind closed doors. I don’t get it, but on the other hand, I like the privacy.

  As I sit at the table and sip my few allotted dribbles of white wine, I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much a part of everyone here now that I cannot imagine being anywhere else.

  Ian keeps grabbing my hand under the table. Occasionally, he gives me a knee squeeze, and I glare at him to stop it. He flashes a teasing grin. It’s not the place to get me riled up thinking of sex. Jack will probably see it all over my face, and I’ll blush red.

  After dinner, we’re all filled and relaxed. Suddenly, everyone quits talking, and all eyes shift to Ian. The moment is awkward, and I don’t get what’s going on, until he rises to his feet. When I look up at him, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet case. A second later, he’s on one knee in front of me. All eyes are upon us, because apparently they know exactly what shenanigans he’s up to. I gasp anticipating what is about to transpire.

  “Ian, what are you doing?” I whisper, glowering at him with wide eyes.

  “What do you think, Rachel?”

  “I asked you first.”

  He looks at me with a sweet face and sexy smile. “Rachel Ann Hayward, would you marry me?”

  My heart stops beating for a brief moment. I bring my hands to my mouth. Tears sting my eyes. Kind and handsome Ian Richards wants to marry me. Not once have we talked about marriage the entire time we have been together, and now he’s on his knee asking me to spend the remainder of my life with him. I stare at him dumbfounded.

  “You better not say no,” he says, breaking the silence. “Because my family is watching.”

  Everyone laughs aloud as they wait for me to answer. How can I turn down my Prince Charming? I’m living my dream. Do it, Rachel, this is your chance for happiness, I hear my inner child encourage me with a joyful voice. I know it is, too, and I’m not going to let anyone steal happiness from me again.