by Karen Gordon
He could still read her signs and remembered them all. When she was getting close to coming, he pushed his cock into her, but only the tip. She moaned and tried to arch up to get him all the way in, but he held her down with his hips. She looked up at him, confused.
“Relax. Just relax and trust me.” And she eased back and let her weight sink into the mattress then her eyes shot open when he started to gently rock. The head of his cock was now pressing on her G spot, caressing it, building her climax even higher.
When she was near her peak again, he stopped rocking and waited for her to come down a little before he pushed in another inch. She cried out at the delicious frustration and amazement as she felt the slight movement against the inflamed nerves inside her. He rocked again in this position, his weight pressing on her clit and more of his cock caressing her G spot. Again she started to climax and he stopped briefly causing her to grasp on to his back and dig her nails into him in frustration.
“Stay with me.” He breathed out into her ear. “Just feel me and stay with me. I’ll get you there.”
She was so damned beautiful like this, unguarded, open, out-of-control. All the things he loved about her.
When she allowed herself to relax back onto the mattress again, he pushed all the way into her, slowly. The feeling of her clenching around his cock was about to send him over the edge, but there was no way he would allow that to happen. He was going to do this for her. He wanted to take her to her highest peak, so she could let go and fly in his arms.
He gritted his teeth and rocked gently into her–making sure to keep up the pressure on her clit while he set off more nerves inside her. She tightened around him as she climbed. The look on her face showing fear and amazement at what was about to happen. And when she got there her whole body tensed around his before she screamed and moaned and clung to him as she rode out the waves. Then he let himself go and joined her, finally allowing himself to breathe and feel what he had given her.
Chapter 19
MG had always segregated sex and love. Sex was fun and felt great; love was rare, and scary. Until now. She lay next to him, both of them coming down from an orgasmic high, both possibly shocked by the strength and honesty of the connection they just made.
What they had between them was so special and rare it almost defied words but she could feel it--this deep connection that allowed them to open up and expose themselves to each other, body and soul--as if there were no two-year gap of lost time between them.
His stomach gurgled loudly beneath her ear and she giggled, breaking the mood. Steve looked at her and raised his eyebrows, asking if she was the guilty party.
“Damn, girl, keep it down. I’m trying to sleep here.”
She flicked him hard on his concave stomach.
This was them too. The thousand and one silly jokes and memories they had between them were part of what made him being here now perfect.
“I need pancakes.”
“You always need pancakes.”
“And coffee. I need coffee.”
“Yeah, I need coffee too.” He scooted out from under her and sprinted for the bathroom. She jumped up off the bed and ran to cut him off.
“You are not getting in there first.”
They wrestled briefly with the bathroom door handle then he let her win. “Don’t make me take you down.”
She turned and smiled at him. In an instant, silly was replaced with luminous warmth that radiated from her heart through her whole body. She stopped and looked up at him and paused, letting him see the love that she was feeling. They lingered in the glow for a moment before she shut the door.
♪ ☺ ♥
At the all-night truck stop diner MG told him the highlights of her time in Manhattan with all the gory details to make him laugh. Things that were so not funny at the time were hysterical to her in hindsight. He laughed hard at her rendition of her “getting fired” story, complete with a great impersonation of herself high on migraine meds.
Their conversation was a constant stream of memories and jokes. She teased him about having to sit on the side of the booth facing the door, and he mocked the way she poured a gross combination of three syrup flavors on her pancakes and the bacon. She waved syrup-doused bacon in his direction, dripping all over his hand, then she seductively licked his fingers clean.
They were having a great time, but something was off, something bothered her. She couldn’t put her finger on it at first, but the longer they talked it became more clear, she could sense it--his laugh just wasn’t the same as before, his smile either. There was an underlying sadness in him that wasn’t there before. Something or someone had stolen some of his beautiful smile. She tried to get him to open up about his life but she got quick, short answers.
“I’m here for you, not to talk about me.”
She shook her head, not accepting his brushoffs, but let it drop for the moment. She noticed him fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers.
“Why don’t you go outside and have a cigarette. I can pay the bill. You got the hotel room.” He had always smoked after a meal.
He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets to stop fidgeting and felt the carton of cigarettes.
“I can go without. You never liked me smoking anyway. I quit for a while for …” He stopped himself.
“For who? A girlfriend?” She hadn’t even considered the idea until now that he might have someone back home. In high school Gina said they were fuck buddies because they dated (or more accurately slept with) other people, but they always came back to each other. She had never felt jealous of the other girls then. Today the thought of him having a girlfriend at home made her pancakes feel like they were about to reappear on the table.
He shook his head no and tried to drop the subject. No, he didn’t have a girlfriend? Or no, he didn’t want to talk about it? Or both.
She sat across from him in silence, fighting the stream of thoughts and images of him loving another girl, fighting the sick feeling that came with them.
When he saw her torment, he reached across the table and held both her hands then dropped his head in frustration.
“You have someone at home?” she whispered.
He breathed out a sigh of frustration and shook his head no.
“Then what is it? You quit smoking for who?”
“I quit smoking, cigarettes and pot, for my daughter.”
“You have a …” MG couldn’t hide her shock because it felt like a punch in the gut. He had had a baby with another girl. Some other girl did exactly what she had run from and MG felt … jealous, pea green, want-to-tear-her-fucking-face-off jealous.
“No.” He cut her off. “She wasn’t mine.”
His pain was so raw and obvious – his eyes, his face, the way he pulled his hands from hers.
She quickly moved to his side of the booth and sat close to him but facing him, her back to the table and her legs crossed on the seat. “Tell me what happened.” She leaned and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Please.”
♪ ☺ ♥
This is exactly what he had so desperately wished for when he was lying on that bed lost in dust just a few days ago. He had almost forgotten his pain in the chaos of the past few days. Fuck, he didn’t want to dump all this on her, but he did. No one could make the pain disappear like she could.
He looked down at his hands, trying to figure out where to start, then wrapped them around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.
She started for him, making a guess from what he had told her, “So, some girl told you she was pregnant by you.”
“Yeah, Amanda. We … lived together, on and off.” He looked up to gage her reaction. He needed to tell her but didn’t want to destroy the connection he was feeling with her right now.
She nodded. Her face neutral like she was waiting to hear the rest of the story before she reacted.
“So, last Christmas, she told me she was pregnant. We had just go
tten back together, again, a few weeks earlier. I don’t know, I guess I just assumed it was mine. She never talked about seeing anyone else when we were apart. She mostly just called me and cried and kept asking me to come back.”
“Did she tell you it was your baby?”
He thought back. “Not exactly. I guess she always wondered … but we lived together, so …” He hesitated, feeling the pain and humiliation of all his crushed plans. MG scooted closer, almost on his lap, and kissed his cheek and neck as she held him tight.
“So, I thought she was my daughter.” It hurt to say the words. “I bought stuff for her, and I quit smoking.” He closed his eyes as the memories pushed to the surface. “And I helped name her,” he almost whispered. “Then last Friday, she came, and she wasn’t mine.”
She sat fully on his lap, the two of them smashed together between the booth and the table, and wrapped herself around him as much as possible.
“The other guy, Trey, he’s black, so I knew as soon as I saw her.”
“Oh.” She didn’t need any further explanation. MG held tight to him, and it was exactly what he had wanted and needed before, only better. Because now that he knew that she loved him, every kiss, every caress meant so much more.
They sat like that for a few minutes. The waitress came by to drop off their check but walked away discreetly when she saw them. She had seen a lot of people in a lot of pain holding each other since the attacks.
MG’s head shot up, and she studied his face. “Wait, last Friday, as in less than a week ago? This happened last Friday?”
He nodded.
“And you got on your motorcycle and came here on Tuesday?”
He nodded again.
“You were in so much pain and you drove all this way to be with me?” There was awe in her voice.
“Right after it happened, I went off the rails. I went to Chad’s house, my dealer …” He felt like he was in confession, pouring out all his sins, but still being loved by her, and it felt amazing. “I did dust, and stayed in his basement ‘til I ran out of money. And while I lay there, feeling like shit in every way, I just wanted you.” He pulled her head to his. “I needed you.”
She shook her head at the strange irony of their twin tragedies that brought them together. “And I needed you.”
As they hugged and the weight of his grief eased, he realized they were still in the restaurant. “We should go.”
MG looked around slowly like she was also remembering where they were. “Yeah.” She started to untangle herself from him. “Will you come with me to the sorority house to check on Alex?”
He hesitated for a moment, picturing what it had been like there, a room full of grieving girls. “Yeah, sure.” It was not where he really wanted to be, but he’d go if she wanted him to. He’d go anywhere for MG.
Chapter 20
Alex was packing. There were two large Louis Vuitton suitcases already lined up near the door, and she was clearing her things out of the bathroom into a third. MG reached out to her and they met in the middle in a hug.
“He’s gone.”
“Your dad?”
Alex nodded.
MG let go of her, but took her hand.
“They found my uncle. He’s in a hospital. He had just left my dad in his office in the tower.” Alex broke down and MG hugged her again, but she pulled away quickly and gestured to her bag on the bed.
“I’ve got to pack. The plane is on its way to get me.” Her voice was distant and detached. She was moving on autopilot. “I’ve got my clothes, and,” she put her hand to her forehead, as if holding her thoughts together, “I don’t know. I think this is all of it.”
MG knew what she was doing. Her world, her reality, had just been blown apart and Alex was hanging on by the details. For now she needed to focus on little shit that might not matter, but it did. “I’ll check the bathroom. Did you get your shoes?”
Alex had a huge shoe collection that took up one suitcase when she traveled. “Um, no.”
MG looked at Steve who was leaning against the doorjamb, trying to stay out of the way. “Can you put all the shoes from under the bed in that suitcase?” She pointed to another large Vuitton case, empty and open on the floor. He nodded and did as she asked. Alex barely registered that someone new was in the room.
MG looked through all the cabinets in the bathroom while keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Alex. “Steve and I will drive you to the airport, OK?” She came out of the bathroom and zipped the overnight bag of toiletries. “This one is done.”
Steve closed the suitcase he’d packed.
“We’ll put these in the car.” MG gestured to the bags and Alex nodded again, letting MG lead her through her haze.
Steve grabbed all three suitcases and banged his way out the door in front of the girls. MG hung the overnight bag on one arm and wrapped her other around Alex’s shoulders. She guided her out of the room.
They only had to wait ten minutes before Alex’s family jet arrived, and MG kept up her steady, calm stream of organized details. “I’ll park your car in the South lot.” MG knew Alex could really give a shit about her car right now, but she also knew that some sense of order would help her exhausted, heartbroken friend from falling into the abyss. “Your cell is in your purse, I checked.” Alex was always losing her cell.
Before Alex boarded, MG hugged her hard. “I’ll be here when you get back. I promise. I’ll pick you up.” It seemed important to let her know that there would be a day beyond this one.
Alex hadn’t said anything since they left her room. She had been so relieved to let someone take over. She looked at MG and nodded, although MG was sure she had no idea what she had just agreed to.
Once the pilots loaded Alex and all her luggage onboard they were quickly ready to take off. Steve and MG sat on the hood of the Bentley in the parking lot of the airport and watched the plane take off. It was a beautiful jet, sleek and powerful and sexy. But MG knew that she was the lucky one, not the girl riding in it. She pulled Steve’s arms in tighter around her and leaned back against him, letting him hold her and take some of the weight of a her friend’s grief off her shoulders.
♪ ☺ ♥
She had Steve stop at the downtown deli so she could pick up some stuff for them to take on a picnic and a motorcycle ride that afternoon. Steve waited in the car, saying he needed to call his work and make sure he still had a job.
Daniel was inside, taping a flyer to the glass on the front of the meat case. MG read the flyer over his shoulder. It was for a benefit concert for the victims in the city. It was tomorrow night in the park and featured Daniel playing as a solo, Professor Marten and his fifties tribute band, and a local Irish band. It was quite the eclectic line up, but the perfect example of people pulling together in a time of crisis. MG decided she and Steve needed to be there, and hopefully her mom, too.
When he noticed her, MG pointed to the flyer. “Did you put this together?”
“Yeah, you’ll be there, won’t you?” He was pumped with enthusiasm, promoting his event.
She couldn’t help but smile at him, the first person she had seen in days who was taking some positive action, starting the healing. “Of course.”
“I figured we could easily raise the most money of any small town, maybe in the whole country.”
The per capita number of kids of millionaires and billionaires was extremely high for the size of the town. Although a lot, like Alex, had left already, he had a great plan. It gave MG an idea.
“My dad would love this. I’ll bring him too.”
“Is he in to fifties music?”
“Yeah, well, he likes all music, and he’s great about making donations.”
“Then bring him.”
“Can I help? I mean, I love doing stuff like this.”
He handed her part of his stack of flyers. “Uh, yeah, would you mind putting these up at the sorority and frat houses for me?” He was a smart. He knew she would have a better receptio
n at the houses than he would.
“No problem. And here.” She wasn’t sure if he had a cell phone to put her number in, so she took an ink pen from the cup near the register and wrote her number on his arm. “Call me if you need me to do anything else.”
He looked at his arm then smiled and headed out the door to keep working.
♪ ☺ ♥
Wal-Mart was their next stop. Steve bought a pair of jeans, a few tee shirts and some toiletries, while MG went in search of a motorcycle helmet for herself. She met him near the registers carrying a bright pink, full-face helmet.
She put it on. “OK, don’t I totally look like the pink ranger in this?” Her voice was muffled from inside the facemask.
He laughed. “You do.”
She struck a Power Ranger pose.
“And I’m supposed to ride back to St. Louis with that hooked to the back of my bike?”
“No.” She looked at him like that was a silly question. “You are supposed to wear it home and think of me the whole way.”
He laughed harder and took her hand. “I don’t need that to make me think of you.”
“But you will keep it for me, won’t you? For the next time we go riding?”
There was a promise of getting together again that gave him hope. “Yeah, I will.”
Of course she insisted on wearing it out of the store, doing her best Power Ranger moves along the way. When they got to the car she tried to do a cartwheel as her big finish. It was seriously bad and exactly why he had rode a thousand miles to see her.
They parked Alex’s Bentley and took the motorcycle to post flyers along Greek row, then drove out into the countryside. She directed him to an abandoned bridge where they ate their picnic with their feet dangling over the creek below. The trees dropped fall leaves on them. The sun was warm on their backs, and there was a cool breeze from the west. It was peaceful, until they heard a distant siren.