Finding Memories (Breaking Free Series)

by Becca Taylor

  Hunter starts drumming, and I follow by strumming the first notes of “The Reason.” Unlike my boys, I don’t sing, but it doesn’t mean I feel the song less than they do. I may not be able to say the words to her, but I mean every word of it.

  Then she’s gone.

  I LEFT BEFORE we finished our set. I've never done that, but for Jade, I always will. I’m not perfect by any means. If I could, I’d change the way I handled everything that happened between us, but when Deanna burned me, I became a coward. No matter how many times I said I would tell Jade exactly what I wanted, the what-ifs always held me back. I’m done with the what-ifs, though. Jade gave me a reason to want more, and I’m not letting her slip through my fingers again. She can keep running, but I’ll keeping following and fighting to have her back in my life. No other option exists for me. Jade is my only option.

  Day in and day out, while she was gone, I worked in my garage because I didn't want to face anyone. I let Hunter take over my latest project just so I could do what? Wallow in my own pity. Drink more than I should have just to forget her. But it didn’t work.

  Josh gave me the kick I needed when he said, “That's it then. You're officially a single man again. I think that's smart. Who needs a smart, classy, sexy as hell woman who made you smile more than you ever have with anyone before anyway, right? I just wonder how long before someone comes along and scoops her up? Hell, maybe I should. Might do me some good to settle down.”

  He said this when we finished practice yesterday. The guys had just left, but he felt the need to give me one more jab before he left. Right after that, I told him fuck you followed by my thanks.

  I make one pit stop before I drive to her house. It occurred to me that in all the time we were together, I never did anything deemed romantic. We had the passion down pat, but I want to show her there's more to us than that. In one hand, I'm holding the biggest bouquet I could find at the one stop shopping store, and in the other, I have a bag loaded with chocolate, her favorite wine, ice cream, an underwater camera she kept talking about, a selfie stick, and a card saying I'm an idiot. Don't leave me because I need you more than air. I wrote those words inside it since nothing on the shelf said what I needed it to.

  As I walk up her stairs, once again I hear music. It's not until I open her door with my own set of keys that I hear what the song is. “Trouble.” Jade is nowhere in sight, though. I go to lower the music that is blaring loudly when I turn around and there she is on the couch.

  Jade sits up from her curled position. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you.” Her face is streaked with makeup which makes me feel like shit. I should've ended this—or better yet, started this—sooner. I never want to make her cry, see her hurting, or feel unwanted ever again.

  “You can’t just walk in my house, Jeremy.”

  “Technically, it's mine.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I still had the extra key,” I say as I hand it to her. She looks at it like it will burn her if she touches it. Since she won't take it, I place the key on the coffee table and crouch down next to her. The urge to take her in my arms is so fucking strong, but she's doing everything possible to avoid eye contact. Since she's still sitting and not running, I'm calling it a win. “I'm sorry. So fucking sorry, Jade.”

  She completely turns her head to avoid me. That's when I have had enough. With my finger, I tilt her head toward me, but she looks down, avoiding my gaze. “Jade, look at me.”

  “I can't.”

  My heart races even though my entire chest feels like one big knot.

  “Please, baby. I need you to look at me.”

  “It hurts too much,” she says as one tear falls down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb.

  “What hurts worse—me being here or me not being here?” I know my answer. It will always be here with her.

  “Both the same.”

  I take her hand and place it over my heart. “This hurts without you.”

  Her fingers curl slightly, digging into my shirt. “Mine too.”

  I move to sit next to her, wanting to pull her against me, but Jade stops me. “You have the ability to break me. It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

  I sit on the coffee table with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands like I'm praying. Praying this isn't the end. Praying she'll let me talk. Praying she'll give us another chance. The chance we deserve. “Without you, I'm already broken. I'm nothing without you.”

  “This was supposed to be casual.”

  “It never was for me,” I tell her the honest fucking truth. This time, when I look up, she's looking right at me.

  “I wasn't meant to have that type of relationship, Jeremy. I know that now. Sex is more than biology for me. It's feelings; it's connection and love. I blurred those lines with us every time.”

  “You don't believe that it was that way for me too?”

  “I don't know.”

  “And that's my fault. I should have told you after the first night that I was in.”

  “I didn't let you.”

  “Doesn't matter. I should have. You're it, Jade. No one else fits me better. How many times did people say that? Well, they were fucking right. We fit in every way. Whether we are talking about your horrible taste in music, or you are asking me for advice on clothing. Having a lazy day at the beach or out with friends. Whether you are sitting right next to me or across a crowded room, you and I will always be drawn to each other because we fit,” I tell her.

  “What about Deanna?” she asks.

  “There is no Deanna. That night was a goodbye for me. Closure and nothing more. She knew it when she sat down.”

  “I saw you kissing.”

  This time, I don't allow her to pull away when I sit next to her then pull her on my lap. “What you saw was her kissing me; I was not kissing her. Because I felt nothing. She knows about you and me. “

  “Oh. What? How could she?”

  “I told her I bumped into you. When I told her I’d moved on, she guessed it was you. She’s even one of the people who said we fit. So believe me when I say that part of my life was over the day she confessed to being with someone else. And I'm sorry I was a jealous asshole when I asked you about your date the day she called. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions about you either.”

  “Lexi was right. I guess we both acted like idiots,” she says.

  “She said the same thing to me. A few other words too.”

  “Can we stop acting like idiots already? Because I really missed my friend.”

  “On one condition.”

  She tries to climb off my lap, but I tighten my hold on her. “You stop calling me your friend and upgrade our status.”

  “To what?” she asks.

  “Your man.”

  “I like that, but I have a condition too.”

  I move the hair away from her face. “Anything.”

  “You don't even know what I'm going to say.”

  “Okay, but the answer is yes.” She could have the moon if it was possible.

  “We deactivate those stupid dating site accounts.”

  I smile. “Already done.”

  “Mine too. Weeks ago,” she confesses

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I kiss you now?” I ask her first because this will be the kiss that seals her fate as my woman.

  Before she can finish saying yes, my lips are on hers.

  “Jeremy,” she whispers softly against my mouth.

  “I know. We should stop.” I don't want her to think that I'm trying to get her in bed. I'm not.

  “That's not what I meant. What's in the bags?”

  Shit. I forgot I had set them down by her stereo when I turned off the music. I walk over and grab them. I hand her the flowers first. “My romantic gesture is probably a melted mess, but at least I tried.”

  She laughs as she pulls out the ice cream that's half soup at this point, and it's t
he best fucking sound in the world. “Don't you love when it gets all soft because now milkshakes?”

  She holds up the camera and stares. I tell her, “I know you said you wanted that for when you finally travel.”

  “You remembered. Why did you do this?”

  “Because you matter. I should have been doing this before. Showing you how much you meant.”

  “You did,” she says as she jumps back in my lap. “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take me to bed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She straddles my lap before she starts kissing me against my neck. “Positive.”

  Gripping her ass, I stand. I grab the bag and head to the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” she asks me.

  “Putting this in the freezer.”

  “Oh.”

  When I continue to her bedroom, her body curls into mine, hugging me tightly. As I lay her on the bed, she doesn't let go, so I flip us. “We don't have to do anything, Jade.”

  “I just didn't realize how much I missed you. Not just you, but the way you smell.”

  “I smell?”

  “The good kind. Like sawdust and cologne. I really missed that. And the way you hold me.”

  “I'm glad you like it. I missed everything about you too.” I grab her wrist and breathe in that familiar peaches scent, which is not smart. Her scent, instead of filling my senses, heads south. Never has a woman, the way she smells, turned me on.

  “I can tell.” She smirks until she rubs against me.

  Even wearing that old oversized t-shirt, she's sexy as hell. “Jade, I don't want you to think this is just about getting you in bed again. You're not helping my control doing that.”

  “Okay, but I want you to stay,” she says as she climbs off me.

  Everything down south is telling me I'm a fucking idiot, but she needs time to process what I am saying. I strip down to my briefs, adjust myself, and climb in behind her. Jade is covering her mouth trying to hide her smirk at my big dilemma. Once I have her wrapped in my arms, she tries to torture me some more by wiggling.

  “Jade,” I warn her.

  “What? I'm just trying to get comfortable.”

  She settles. After a few minutes, her breathing evens out. “Night, Foxy.”

  “Night, Superman.”

  This, right here, is how I want every night to end.

  STRONG ARMS ARE wrapped around me, a hand is on my boob, and something is poking me from behind. I’m also wearing a smile on my face when I wake up for the first time in weeks.

  “Stop moving your ass against me, woman,” Jeremy says, but he pulls me closer.

  “Woman?”

  “If I’m your man, then you are my woman.”

  “I can't help it. You're sticking me.”

  “You'll make it worse by doing that. So stop.”

  “Then let me up. I have to go to the little girls’ room.”

  Jeremy reluctantly releases me with a grunt. I quickly rush through my morning bathroom routine of teeth, face, and hair. I look down at the shirt I threw on last night and groan. My oversized photography shirt that states I flash people. It's not the best of choices, but it sends a message. I tie the side up in a knot, but when I return to the bedroom, Jeremy is gone.

  I hear him in the kitchen making coffee. “You left,” I pout as I walk toward him.

  He pours us each a cup then turns around. “I was getting us ... Jesus, Jade. Are you trying to kill me?”

  I look down at my shirt. “Why would I want to do that?”

  He puts the cups on the counter. “That’s one hell of a way to greet a man. Good morning.”

  “Morning.” Quickly, I grab one of the cups, take a sip, and start back down the hall. “Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going back to bed. I plan on staying there all day. I think we are entitled to that, don't you?”

  I put an extra sway in my hips, keeping my pace slow. Keeping my eyes forward, I don’t look back to see if he's following me. To him, I'm hoping I seem like I'm cool as a cucumber, but I'm not. I can't say I'm nervous, but my heart is racing, and my body is trembling. Maybe it's excitement or anticipation, but I just know that it feels good to finally not feel unsure or sad anymore.

  By the time I get to my bedroom, I hear his footsteps close behind, and my heart speeds up even more. After placing my coffee down, it’s racing. I climb onto the bed, but Jeremy doesn't let me get far. With my knees on the matress, he pulls me against his chest, his hands grip across my stomach, and his mouth presses against mine.

  Whatever Jeremy does in life, he puts his heart, soul, and body into it. I've seen it when he's working, playing his guitar, and how he is with friends. But his kisses ... no man has ever had the ability to give me chills and overheat my body at the same time with a single kiss, but Jeremy is not an ordinary man.

  The knot in my shirt gives way, but he doesn't seem in a hurry to take it off. Every kiss on my neck, nibble on my ear, and touch of his hand is painstakingly slow. It's as if he's memorizing me, my body, and, maybe like me, this moment.

  Usually, his touch is more aggressive, purposeful, but the way his callused hands slowly reach under my shirt, up my stomach, to my breasts is torture of the best kind. As his fingertips trace circles on my hardening nipples, he kisses that one spot right where my shoulder and neck meet, and I feel like I am on fire.

  “I plan on taking my time with you. I'm going to enjoy every inch of this body. No more rules, no games. Just you and me from now on.”

  He kisses my neck one more time. “Learning.”

  Then he kisses my ear. “Exploring.”

  Right before his lips settle on mine, he says, “Worshiping.”

  If his mouth hadn't caught it, I'm positive you would have heard me moan or sigh something that would be the equivalent to yes. The kiss pauses for a moment. I would have complained, but he’s finally pulling my shirt over my head. But even with that, he takes his time. Grazing my sides with his fingers like he doesn't want to stop touching me for a second. When it's off, I turn to face him. The way he looks at me and studies my body, he looks primal. His chest is rising and falling with deep breaths, his eyes are darker than I've ever seen them, and he has this slight smirk on his face. I've never seen that intensity before, but good God, I want to see it again. It's as if I'm his prey that he's about to devour. And I really want to be devoured. By him. I scoot back, lay down, and wait for him to join me.

  Jeremy only proves my theory when he climbs on the bed. There is no jumping on top of me, no bodies crashing together, no hurried movements with him. Everything he's doing is deliberate. He knows what he's doing to me, that he's turning me on so much that I have to squeeze my legs together to relieve the ache he's causing. The way he prowls on all fours across the bed, pausing after each step, causes the cotton of my panties to dampen. By the time he grabs my knees and spreads my legs wide, the material is soaked through. But when he takes my ankle in his hand, closes his eyes, and breathes me in, I swallow as he moves up my calf, my inner thigh, and then stops, only to do the same on my other leg. By the time he reaches my panties, they're drenched beyond repair. Jeremy cups his fingers over the material, slowly moving them up and down.

  “I like that you are wet because of me.” The sound of his voice, deep and gravelly, vibrates through my entire body. Then he places gentle kisses on my inner thighs. It's the worst torture and best kind of teasing. He's going make me explode just by doing this, but then he stops. Good God, I was so close, and he stops.

  “Are these expensive?” he asks me.

  “Very.” It’s one of my favorite pair of imported French lace underwear.

  “I'll buy you a new pair then,” he tells me as he grips one side then tears one side of the fabric followed by the other. He could have easily pulled them off me during that little conversation, but that's not him tonight.

  “Why did you do
that?” I'm not offended; if anything, I'm turned on more.

  He tosses them on the chair where his pants are and says, “I'm keeping them. I missed the way you smelled too. And the way you taste.”

  He lowers back down between my legs, not wasting any time to bring me pleasure. I swear this man is as talented with his mouth as he is with his hands. The first kiss against my lips is soft, gentle even. Slowly, he starts using his flattened tongue to lick me back to front. That alone is enough to have my hips moving, silently begging him for more. But it's when he circles the one spot that can drive me over the edge that makes me want to scream out in pleasure. It's more than just his mouth driving me there; it's the way Jeremy is constantly caressing my body at the same time. His fingers and hand are stroking my thighs and touching my breasts, but when I'm so close like now, he grips my waist. He holds me tight, not letting me move an inch when my body wants to so badly. With one more circle of his tongue, I come undone in a quick and powerful release.

  “Holy hell,” I scream out as I grip his hair between my fingers. One second, they are holding him to me, and the next, I'm trying to pull him away. Jeremy kisses me one last time before pulling away and standing up. My release coats his lips, yet he doesn’t make a move to wipe them clean. Instead, his tongue darts out, licking up and down as if he’s savoring me. Good God, this man knows how to keep a woman panting.

  While I try to catch my breath, he removes his boxers. I turn on my side to admire the show. What a beautiful one it is. His body is a work of art—tanned from working outside all day and muscular from lifting heavy objects all day—as he grips himself in his hand, leisurely stroking.

  “Like what you see?” he asks.

  “Have I told you I love your new tattoo?”

  “Do you?”