by Natasha Boyd
He was a man.
I tried to reconcile the Tom I’d spent months falling in love with, with this man. The most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. He didn’t seem aware of it either. I guess because he hadn’t shaved clean in so long.
Now that man had me flat on my back. He was kneeling on the bed, his large hands running up my hips, my ticklish sides, to my chest and back down, where they hooked onto my panties.
I tried to keep my breathing steady but it was no use. He was staring at me and asking me a question. “I’m taking these off, okay?” he whispered.
I nodded and lifted my hips for him to slowly peel them down my legs. My breathing, Jesus, my breathing. My heart was pounding. It was reminiscent of a panic attack. But I wanted this one. Tom was my… safety. My haven. My sanctuary.
Whatever he did, and whatever he asked me, I knew he was terrified of reminding me of something horrible. But he didn’t realize that I already had all those things in my head anyway, every sick grasp, every silkily whispered perversity, every hurt, and every associated emotion.
But this, this with Tom, was louder. This was more. This overrode everything.
His hand ran up my inner thigh, and I shifted, spreading my legs wider, making him inhale sharply. “Are you wet for me, Liv?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, tensing, as a similar memory fired.
Tom’s voice. I snapped my eyes open to keep them on him. This was him asking. This was Tom.
Doubt stole over his features as he realized.
“Yes,” I managed hastily. “Don’t stop talking the way you want to. Be you, Tom. I want you. I’m wet for you.”
“Christ.” His mouth came down hard on my mine, licking into my soul. I grabbed his head to hold him to me, his tongue in my mouth, as his fingers glided up my legs, closer and closer, then slicked over my flesh. God. I arched up on a gasp that tore my mouth from his.
“Stay with me, Livvy,” he rasped into my ear, sending shivers down my skin. His fingers slid over me, and my legs widened even further, inviting him in. My body literally wept for him, I couldn’t control it.
I panted desperately. His breathing was just as harsh. “More,” I managed.
Hot wet kisses trailed down my throat to my breasts, and I arched into his mouth. His lips closed around my nipple, his teeth scraping the flesh, at the same moment that he slid a finger into me.
I let out a guttural moan and shuddered. “Tom,” I rasped.
He brought his face up, a lock of hair falling across it. His cheeks were flushed. He breathed hard, his beautiful eyes dark. “Okay?”
“God, yes, more than okay.”
“You like this?” he whispered, dragging his finger slowly out of me and then sliding it back in.
I let out a choked sound, and he did it again. His thumb pressed down on my clit and began rhythmic circles.
Unable to catch my breath to answer, I nodded rapidly. Desperately. Which caused an answering quirk of Tom’s mouth.
His eyes never missed a beat, watching me closely.
I was on fire. My skin prickled. Every single cell of my body was wired to a fuse that was lit and burning up the inches at a rapid rate. I undulated my hips up as he worked me, played me. I grasped at him, his strong shoulders, his muscled arms, then at the bed sheets. My legs opened further, beyond my control.
“Just let go, baby.” Tom’s husky voice permeated my senses.
I was caught in the crossfire between my body and my mind, and he seemed to know it. “Keep talking,” I gasped. “I need your voice. I need to hear you.”
His breathing matched mine. “You feel so good, Liv. You’re so beautiful.” His finger slid deep into me again, and his mouth came back to my ear. “I want to taste you. I want my tongue where my hand is. I want to be inside you,” he confessed and my body reacted like an incendiary device.
My head arched back on the pillow, my eyes squeezing closed. I lost my mind, my hips literally riding his hand, crying out as the orgasm crashed through me. It scorched everything in its path, good and bad, leaving me quaking and… utterly decimated.
And then I was in Tom’s arms, pressed tightly to his chest, my head to his pounding heart. He drew me on top of him and held me tight, leaving no room for my doubts and my fears to creep into the barren wasteland that was left inside me.
His skin was damp, and I pressed my lips to the salty tang of his skin, taking a small taste. His length was rock hard in his boxers against my belly.
Rumbling lightly under me, his hand drew my face up to his. The look in his eyes—wonder, dark desire, hesitation—made the temporary vacuum inside me fill with fresh and deep longing. I lowered my mouth back to his chest and kissed his skin.
“Liv,” he said, his voice strained. “We can stop. We don’t need to rush this. We shouldn’t rush this.”
I reached up a finger and laid it across his sculpted, delicious lips. God, he was gorgeous. “I… I need to get to the other side of our first time.”
Obviously, we’d technically had that, but the memory of that night was agonizing, and I wanted to eclipse it with this one. “That sounds wrong. I don’t mean it’s something I want out of the way. It’s just… and if you don’t want to, it’s fine,” I added, suddenly realizing it wasn’t my choice alone.
“I want to, trust me. You don’t want to remember how much I hurt you that night. I get it. I don’t either. God, I’m so sorry for that, Liv. But also… I don’t have any protection.”
I instantly thought of the box of condoms. Bethany. I had no right really, but my heart dropped. My nakedness, my vulnerability hit hard. I gulped. “Did you—”
“No.” Tom shifted sitting up, moving me to the side and then sliding his hand into my hair. “They’re just on the boat. Liv, there’s only you. There’s been only you for weeks. Months.”
“But you… Bethany, she—”
“I was utterly unfair to her. I’m not proud of it. I was an ass, but I didn’t realize what I was doing. I was too busy fighting my feelings for you, trying to switch them off. Trying to pretend everything was the same. But, I haven’t slept with her in months.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. It’s not like I have any right—”
“Jesus, Liv. You have every right.” His other hand took my cheek until he cradled my face and stared so intently into my eyes, I felt like I should turn away, but I couldn’t. “You have every right. I will never, ever hurt you like that. Hurt you, period. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I stayed mute. Not answering. His eyes dropped to my lips and he captured them in a deep, scorching kiss, as if he was trying to communicate with me. God, I loved his mouth. His taste.
He pulled away finally, and dropped a kiss on my nose, before pushing me back to the pillows so he could settle his weight on me. My legs opened to accommodate him, and his erection, still long and thick, pressed against my center.
I moaned at the sensation, and Tom let out a small growl that smacked of frustration. “I’m torturing myself now,” he said and rocked against me as he nipped at my lips.
“And me,” I said and boldly slid my hands down his muscled back until I could grab his firm behind.
He dropped his face to my neck.
“You know,” I said into his ear, “you don’t have to come inside me, and I think I’m at a fairly safe part of my cycle…”
Tom groaned. “I think you just gave voice to every teenage boy’s fantasy.” He came up with a smirk across his gorgeous face. “It’s never safe. You know that, right?”
I nodded and pursed my lips.
“And sliding into you is going to feel so fucking good, it will be a herculean effort to last? Let alone pull out?”
My belly fizzed with arousal. “You asking me?” I quirked an eyebrow at his tone.
“No, I guess I’m telling you. Apologizing.”
He leaned up on one elbow and his other hand drifted over my chest, kneading a breast, and tweaking my nipple gen
tly between two fingers as he watched, seemingly entranced by the fact he was touching me.
I let out a tiny, breathy laugh. “Apologizing for what?”
His hand continued down my belly and I had to bite my lower lip and inhale deeply to control the swirling heat inside me.
“That it’s not a good enough reason not to at least feel you for a second,” he said and leaned up slightly to pull his boxers down. “I’m a masochist, I guess.”
The sight of him ready between my legs, sent a red-hot spike of lust through me. In one smooth motion I instantly spread my legs and wrapped them around his waist as he guided himself toward me. The tip of him slid against my opening. My earlier release welcomed him, and within nanoseconds he’d pressed his thickness all the way inside me.
He hissed a short sharp breath. The crease of his forehead told me he was fighting for control. But suddenly I was too. And not in a good way.
Images and memories of pain from the past pressed in. Crowding me. My mind began its bloody battle again as I fought to stay in the moment, but I gasped, already tense, and tight with panic. The green of a shirt, the weight, the hot pungent breath, the grunting, the sharp tearing pain.
“Liv. Liv,” Tom’s voice urged. He was utterly still inside me. Not moving.
I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying desperately to get back to the good stuff, the warmth, the heat that made my insides gooey and melty, not stiff and rigid. Why? Why now? It hadn’t happened before in the rainstorm.
“Livvy, look at me.”
I shook my head.
“Yes, Liv. Open your eyes. Please.” The last word, a small, broken plea.
His face, beautiful and strained with worry, came into focus. “I’m going to pull out now, okay.”
“No. Wait.” I clamped my teeth tight, waiting for the memories to fade from the beauty we had in this moment. From the beauty of Tom. Of us.
“It’s okay, Liv. We shouldn’t have rushed. It’s okay, I promise.” His hips flexed to move away. I grabbed his back and squeezed my legs tighter around him.
I closed my eyes. “Please. Just stay like this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said with force, making me want to apologize again. I nodded instead.
He kissed my nose, and then each eyelid. His lips skated over mine softly and I returned the kiss. Our mouths moved together, every lick and every pull melting me slowly. His tongue slipped between my lips to tangle with mine and I moaned, instinctively moving my body against him. It caused his length to rock within me, and I felt the answering shudder go through him. God, I loved this man. I wanted so much to give him pleasure. To show him how I felt about him.
Even when I was panicked, I never felt threatened. I was always safe with him.
He had endured so much too. So much fear and pain and abandonment. And he was so focused on being there for me, it was hard to remember he also needed someone to be there for him. Me. I wanted to prioritize Tom. His needs. His wants. The knowledge seemed to release the final knot within me, and as it uncoiled, I felt my insides liquefying, heating up, and boiling over.
Sensing the shift in me, he lifted his head, his eyes searching mine. I smoothed a hand across his cheekbone, my thumb across his lips, rocking my hips against his. I let him see in my face the deep pleasure and arousal the feel of him within me caused and the love I hoped was pouring out of my eyes. He answered my movement and captured my thumb between his lips, sucking it against his tongue.
We moved gently, silently, with quick breaths and straining bodies. If our eyes weren’t locked, our lips were. His hands cradled my head and mine alternated between grasping tufts of his soft hair and running desperately down his back. His movements became more urgent and erratic.
I tried to match him.
Suddenly, he pulled out and slid down my body. Before I could even react, his hands were holding my legs apart and his mouth was on me, his hot tongue working me with urgent and rhythmic swipes.
Crying out in surprise, I grabbed his head.
Oh my God.
There was no time to let my mind catch up, before my body was coiled tight and my back bowed off the bed. I opened my mouth in a silent scream and my body convulsed, every feeling centered where his tongue set off the charge that detonated throughout me.
Then he was filling my aching core again, his body heavy on mine. I was tight and grasping around him as he stroked in and out, my body not even recovered. “Tom,” I begged. “So… good.”
“God, Liv, I—” he broke off with a groan and pulled out of me, taking himself in hand and pumping his fist. My eyes were riveted to his movements as he worked himself.
“Oh my God,” I managed, just as he erupted over my belly. “That’s, like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Christ.” He let out a guttural breath.
“And messy,” I added, and a giggle burst out of me. He smiled, his beautiful face elevating to devastatingly gorgeous.
We were both breathing heavily, and then both laughing out loud. He leaned down and kissed me, our smiling mouths causing our teeth to bump. “Livvy Baines,” he said breathlessly.
“Tom Cavanaugh,” I echoed, trying his name out.
We locked eyes, our laughter dying out.
“SOMETHING’S BOTHERING YOU.” Liv’s voice was small. “Do you regret it?”
“What? God, no. It was incredible. You’re incredible.” I swallowed. Understatement of the fucking year. My entire universe just shifted.
We were lying facing each other. Liv had moved away, after we cleaned up, to cool our bodies from the damp humid heat we’d generated. My skin felt the loss of her but welcomed the cool air. She’d captured my hand though, and had it tucked between hers against her chest.
She smiled. “I believe you. So what is it?”
“You won’t like it. But I think we need to do it so we can move on.”
Her body tensed.
“Liv, I need you to tell me what’s in the box.”
Her jaw tightened. Annoyed. “I don’t know what’s in it.”
“I’m asking you to open it. It’s not Pandora’s box. It’s not going to destroy the world. We just need a small piece of closure.”
Liv tried to pull away, but I held tight.
“Wait, this is for me too. I need to know if there’s anything that can help explain what was going on in Abby’s head. And more importantly, Mike Williams is still out there, Liv.”
She shuddered, swallowing hard.
We hadn’t ever addressed the fact that she’d run away, and he was still out there. She would never truly heal while he was. And while I had no idea what to do to help her with that because let’s face it, the last time I tried to help hadn’t worked out so well, she would have to do it eventually.
She pulled away again, her eyes refusing to meet mine, and this time I let her go. She flopped onto her back with a huff. After a few moments, she sat up and reached down to grab my discarded white shirt, shrugged it on and stood.
I got out of bed, wearing my boxers and followed until we stood in front of the dresser where the locked wooden box sat like a viper.
“We could always use the ax to break it apart,” she said quietly as we both stared at it.
A thought occurred to me. “Is that what you were looking for when you went through this place head to toe? The key?”
“Not really, no, but it did cross my mind that maybe it was here somewhere.”
My eyes flicked up to the picture of her and Abby as girls on the swing. Liv glanced up and saw where I was looking. Suddenly she reached forward and plucked the frame off the wall, turning it over in her hands.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” I said as we saw the small iron key taped to the back. Her hands shook as she frantically tore it loose, dropping the picture with a clatter. Then we both stood, breathing hard. Her heart had to be beating as fast as mine was. She offered the key to me. I shook my head.
Leaning forward, she pulled the b
ox closer and slid the key inside. She turned it and there was a soft click.
My hand shot out and slapped down hard on the top of the box. “Wait.”
“What?”
“There could be nothing that will change anything in there, and we could also learn something that will change everything forever.”
“I know, Tom.” The small crease appeared between her brows again.
“I’m not trying to give the box more power than it has, trust me. It may have nothing to do with me at all. But whatever it is will affect you. It affected Abby, so I can only believe it will affect you too.”
Liv let go of the box and faced me.
I took that as an invitation to keep going. “You keep telling me I saved you, but you saved me. My heart was barely beating before you arrived and now…” God, I sounded so lame, but I didn’t care. “Now, every breath I take has you in it.” I winced. “Livvy, you deserve so much better than me. I’ll do whatever I can to help get you free of your past, but I’m a big part of it, so at some point you’ll want—no, need—to let me go.” Her head started shaking side to side. “No listen. I will be here as long as you need me. I’m just telling you it’s okay. I need you to be free of me more than I need you to be with me. I know that may not make sense to you now—”
“You love me,” she said, calmly. “It makes perfect sense.”
“What does?”
“You love me. Love me so much you think you don’t deserve me. Blah, blah, blah. Set me free, blah, blah, blah. You are talking complete crap,” she snapped.
“It’s not crap,” I managed, finally. “Not the ‘I love you’ part anyway.”
She smiled.
I blew out a breath. “Anyway, I also know that whatever is in there will probably hurt you, and I hate seeing you hurt. Maybe I needed a moment to get myself together,” I hedged. “I’m fine now, go ahead.”
She turned to the box and opened it, drawing a stack of what looked like photographs out. I couldn’t look at them, I needed to look at her. I watched closely, keeping my eyes on her for the first hint of panic, or fear, or God knows what else. Her forehead creased in confusion at first, before her flushed skin paled to melted wax. Her hands shook as she went through the pictures one by one, picking up speed, seeming to come to a stop suddenly. She laid them down and her hand came to her mouth. Her body jerked as she retched, and then she pushed past me and slammed out the room toward the bathroom. I was torn for a split second between looking at the pictures and going to her.