Finding Our Course: Collision Course Duet

by Ahren Sanders

  His mouth and tongue move in rhythm, sucking and nipping. I swivel my hips upward, tightening my thighs and forcing him deeper. One hand pulls out of my hold and slides down my side, over my hip, and stops at his mouth. When he slips the tip of a finger inside, fire shoots through me, and I clench down.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he rumbles. “And all mine.”

  “Yes,” I pant, tingling sensations rushing through every nerve in my body.

  He takes his time, slowly building me up, taking cues from the way my body responds. Each nip of his teeth is followed by a lick to ease the sting. The only other time in my life I tried intimacy with another man was nothing compared to the way Bryce and I are together. The instantaneous reaction of craving and desire, each time we touch, fuels the passion between us.

  “Baby, your legs are shaking. Let go. Give me that.” His cool breath against my heated core sets me off, and I thread my fingers through his hair, screaming his name.

  He doesn’t move fast, instead licking me once more then kissing a path up my stomach, situating my legs around his waist. Without words, he slips inside, stretching me easily. Somehow, he finds the strength to lift me up, leaning back on his calves and holding me to him.

  We rock together, and I lose myself in the endless blue of his gaze. My breath gets caught in my throat when he leans in and brushes his lips across mine.

  “Tell me you know how much I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Promise me you know how much.”

  “I know how much.”

  He nods and continues to make love to me slowly, running his mouth, lips, and tongue over every inch of flesh he can. I hold on to his shoulders and arch, rubbing my throbbing nipples into his own, eliciting a low growl from him.

  Suddenly, he plants himself as deeply as possible. I roll my hips against his, meeting him thrust for thrust. We both groan and then scream together as our shared releases wash through us. I cling to him, feeling our slick, sweaty chests rise and fall at the same time.

  My legs start to cramp from the hold I have around his waist, so I reluctantly loosen them and collapse on the bed. He follows me, rolling to his side to prop on an elbow. His fingers run through my hair, fanning it on the pillow.

  Our eyes stay locked, lost in each other, and the intensity in his stare causes my breath to hitch.

  “What’s wrong?” I practically whisper.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I promised no more mushy shit, so my lips are sealed.”

  “Is what you’re thinking going to make me cry?”

  “Who knows? You cry a lot recently.”

  “Bryce!” I playfully slap his hard chest and watch the amusement spread across his face.

  He turns us slightly and then inches up the bed with his back to the headboard. I have no choice but to straddle his lap and sit face to face. Both of his hands move to mine, linking our fingers. I fall slightly and brace on his chest.

  “I hate doing this, but it’s the last night we will have privacy for a very long time.” His amusement is replaced with seriousness.

  “Do what?”

  “I need to make sure you understand some things. I moved at lightning speed and wouldn’t change a thing. Even though Steve gave me his blessing to propose, he also made me promise to have a conversation with you.”

  I suck in a breath, knowing my dad is somehow involved.

  “Listen to me, babe. Really listen. I need to prepare you.”

  My pulse starts racing.

  “This is not the only birthday I’m going to miss, nor is it the only celebration I’ll be absent. Being in the Navy comes with certain responsibilities. I can pray every day that I’ll be there for our anniversaries, the birth of our children, and every other celebration in our lives, but I can’t promise it. Even now, thinking I may miss your graduation next year, kills me.

  “Further into our lives, my career is going to dictate a lot. We’re going to get transferred to places out of my control. That’s going to affect your own job as well as our children’s lives.”

  “Bryce—”

  He continues and talks over me.

  “If we ever have another wartime situation while I’m enlisted, there’s no telling where I’ll be, so it’s really important to me that you understand and know what you’re getting into. I have a duty to serve my country, and I take that seriously, but if it ever gets too much for you, promise to talk to me. I can’t lose you. There’s nothing I can do short term, but long term—”

  “Shut it!” I lift one of our linked hands to his lips and pinch. “I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve years old. You want to know why I never dated anyone seriously in high school or college? Because I compared everyone to you. No one stood a chance.

  “Yeah, we have the loser list. It was my way of trying to move on. But what no one knows, not even Quinn, is that I’ve researched, studied, and memorized the life of a navy wife. Even when I thought I couldn’t have you. Let’s not forget, I’ll miss your birthday, too, while you’re away. When you’re deployed, it’s going to be lonely, it’s going to be hell, and I’ll probably cry a lot. BUT I’LL STILL HAVE YOU!”

  I take in a deep breath, and his hands tighten. Then I exhale, ready to say more, but he sits up quickly, wrapping my arms around my back and burying his face directly over my heart.

  “Now who’s the one saying mushy things?” he mutters then waits a second before speaking again. “Promise me, if it ever gets scary or too much, you talk to me. We’ll work through it.”

  I nod and whisper, “Promise.”

  Quinn: Warn Bryce now. He’s going home. I need you for a few hours alone! By the way- waiting in arrivals.

  I bite my lip and glance sideways after reading Quinn’s text. Bryce reaches for my hand, reads the message, and blows out breath.

  We pick up our luggage and walk out to see Quinn in the ‘no parking’ lane, talking to a police officer. When we get closer, I recognize him as Trevor, an old friend of Nate and Bryce’s from high school.

  As soon as he sees Bryce, his smile goes wide, and he eagerly reaches to shake hands, slapping Bryce on the back. They talk for a few minutes before Trevor notices me, and his eyes grow wide in recognition.

  “Devon Harris?” he asks.

  I nod and grin.

  “Jesus, look at you. When did you grow up? Last time I saw you was the graduation party your parents threw for the seniors. What was that—four years ago?” His gaze rakes up and down my body, and Bryce goes still beside me.

  “Something like that. How are you, Trevor?”

  “Great. I’ve been a cop in Nashville for almost a year. Much different situation on this side of the law.” He turns to Bryce, his face lit with humor. “Randolph, man, remember that time we were picked up partying behind that old farmhouse senior year? You were hooked up with Missy Higgins then, right?

  I can’t stop the squeak that falls out of my mouth. It’s stupid, but at the mere mention of Bryce with another girl, a knot pits in my stomach.

  The air around us stills as Bryce’s back grows straighter. Trevor notices immediately and looks between us.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  Bryce immediately clasps my hand and kisses my ring finger, making a statement. Trevor’s eyes dart between my face and Bryce’s lips.

  “Devon’s my fiancée. Not sure we need to rehash high school, especially shit that never happened. Someone may have been with Missy, but it sure wasn’t me.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re marrying Nate’s little sister?”

  His stunned voice comes out in a high tone, and Quinn tries to hold back but fails. Her small giggle turns into a loud laugh until she starts snorting. She drops her head, so her hair covers her face, but her shoulders continue to jiggle.

  One look at Bryce, and his expression transforms from annoyed to pleased. His lips twitch slightly until he speaks. “Yeah, you could
put it that way. Technically, she’s Nate’s younger sister, but I prefer to refer to her as mine.”

  Trevor looks among all of us with a confused expression. “Wow.”

  “Why is that so hard to believe?” Bryce asks.

  Trevor’s eyes dart to me then lower to the ground. He shuffles his feet before answering. “Don’t mean to be a dick, but I heard you had a kid and fiancée in Knoxville.”

  All amusement ends. Bryce swallows hard and looks at me before speaking. “You heard wrong.” He doesn’t elaborate further but loads our bags in the trunk.

  “Sorry, man, didn’t mean to—”

  “No worries. Now you know.” He holds his hand out for Quinn to give him the keys and then opens the front and back door for us to get in.

  I give Trevor a small smile and wave as Bryce shuts me in. They each give a chin jerk, and it’s obvious that Trevor is extremely uncomfortable. Bryce folds into the car and is silent until he gets to the interstate.

  “Why does it feel like we just stepped off a time machine and back into high school?”

  “Really, it was a legitimate mistake. There are probably a lot of people who heard about the baby but didn’t get the whole story. Even though it’s a big city, it’s still a small community.”

  “It was two years ago. Am I ever going to get away from it?”

  “I have an idea,” Quinn pipes in. She reaches in my purse and takes out my phone.

  “Whatever it is, that look on your face tells me it’s not a good idea.” Her fingers work rapidly as her grin widens.

  Then she reaches for her own phone and types quickly.

  “Here.” She hands it back. “All of your social media has been updated. You are now officially engaged to Bryce Randolph. Your Instagram also sent a photo of the two of you.”

  “Did you caption it?”

  “Yep.”

  I scroll through my account and squeal when I see what she’s done. She’s taken one of the shots of us at the beach and posted for everyone to see with the title ‘7 years in the making but he’s finally mine’. Then she hash-tagged with #futuremrsrandolph.

  “We have to get this down!” I try to remove all tags, but comments keep popping in.

  We’re stopped at a red light when Bryce reaches over to take it out of my hand. His lips start to curl then he scrolls down, and his face goes hard.

  “Quinn, tell me you didn’t put a fucking picture of Devon in her bikini for hundreds of people to see.”

  “Technically, it’s thousands,” she practically sings, knowing he’s about to blow up.

  “Get that shit down!”

  “Too late. It’s been shared. I mean, we could pull it, but it’s getting the desired effect. Look at all the comments. Besides, thought you’d like the hashtag. That was all for you.”

  “I do like it, but what I don’t like is her half-naked body floating over the Internet.”

  “I don’t care about that! I care about the fact that she mentioned ‘7 years in the making’. Could I be more embarrassed? People are going to think I’m a loser.” I scowl at my ex-best friend.

  “You’re both fucking duds. First of all, Devon, it’s not a secret. Anyone who had eyes could see the way you looked at Bryce. Second of all, Bryce, calm your shit. It’s not like no one’s ever seen her in a bathing suit. Jesus, you two are a fucking mess. You should be thanking me for my brilliant quick thinking.” Her face doesn’t flinch, waiting for me to argue.

  I narrow my eyes at her but don’t say anything else. Bryce’s phone starts to ding along with mine as our feeds overload with comments. A text comes through from Nate.

  Nate: Did you throw up online? I’m getting fucking bombarded.

  Me: Quinn’s handiwork. She tagged you.

  Nate: She’s a pain in the ass.

  Me: I know.

  “Well, regardless of her methods, it worked. Seems both local and college friends now know about us.” I grab Bryce’s hand.

  He glares into the rearview mirror at Quinn, but his lips twitch, fighting a grin. She ignores him and plays on her phone. I turn to her, and she gives me a quick glance, winking. Now, I know—she loaded that picture on purpose to get a rise out of him.

  God help me.

  Chapter 6

  I hiccup softly, trying to hold in the sobs clawing up my throat. Immediately, my phone rings, and I look out the small airplane window to see Bryce watching me.

  “Hey,” my voice is barely a whisper.

  “Babe, don’t let my last memory for three months be of tears streaming down your face.”

  “You can’t even see me.”

  “Yes, I can, but even more so, I feel you.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Not really sure, maybe something to do with the fact that I’m fucking crazy about you?”

  I touch my lips where he kissed me goodbye not ten minutes ago. He and Dean brought us to the airport and got passes to walk us to the gate. Unlike last week, this was not going to end with Bryce coming with me. This was the goodbye for months, the one I dreaded and tried to avoid, but when we woke up this morning in his room, ignorance was no longer an option. The time was here. He held me close and made love to me quietly. His parents were out of the house, so we had privacy. All morning, he stayed as close as possible. At lunch with my parents, he sat so I was practically in his lap.

  Even though my emotions were all over the place, a small part of me started to simmer with excitement. In three days, we’d be given our assignments for the next six weeks. My mind was already shooting on all cylinders with ideas for articles.

  “There’s the light that shines.” Bryce smiles at me. “Even from here, I can see your face starting to brighten. This trip is going to be once in a lifetime, Dev. I may have been a prime ass about the first location, but it was never about your future. It was always about your safety.”

  “I know, and I’m really glad we didn’t have to fight about it.”

  “There was no fight. You weren’t going. Period. End of story.”

  “Bryce, don’t start an argument you won’t win.”

  “Oh, babe, I’d win, and that’s why I took drastic measures.”

  “Don’t tarnish our goodbye by being cocky,” I warn.

  “Not being cocky if it’s true.”

  “Bryce—”

  “You happy?”

  Even though his face is slightly fuzzy through the distance and the glass, I can tell his eyes are shining.

  “Yes, I’m happy.”

  “Good, now go kick some Olympic ass. Call me tonight from the hotel.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” he says and hangs up.

  The flight attendant goes through the pre-flight instructions, and the whole time I stare at that window. We don’t lose eye contact until the plane backs out, and Quinn grabs my hand. I hold on until we’re safely in the air.

  Once we hit cruising altitude, we dislodge, and she brings out the folder we’ve been working on for the last two weeks. Over the next few hours, we get acquainted with every summer Olympic sport and the rules of the games. Since we have no idea which contenders will be in Rio during our stay, we have no athletic bios. But I have a pretty good idea of the basics.

  Once we land in Miami and get to our hotel, we’re both exhausted. Instead of going out, we decide on room service and a movie. I’m rummaging through my overnight bag when a deep male voice fills the room.

  “What the hell?” I scream and look at the door. The voice rumbles again, causing me to jump. “Who the fuck is that, and where is it coming from?”

  “Olá, como vai você.” Quinn repeats the phrase, pressing a button on her phone. “That is Rafael. He’s going to help us learn Portuguese.”

  “Rafael?”

  “I named him Rafael because it sounds sexy. It’s a translation program I downloaded.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Only she would rename a computer generated program to sound se
xy. “Well, he scared the shit out of me. He sounded like he was here in the room.”

  “Great acoustics on my phone. We need to learn some key phrases to communicate with the locals.”

  “Quinn, we’re going to be with teams and guides.”

  “Yes, but it’s smart to be prepared. Now, come here. Let’s do this.” She pats the bed next to her, and I plop down.

  “‘Olá, como vai você’ is ‘Hello, how are you’?”

  We both repeat it a few times and take turns asking Rafael about popular general statements.

  Good morning.—Bom Dia.

  Good Evening.—Boa Noite.

  Where is the restroom?—Onde é o banheiro.

  “These are boring. Let’s get to the good stuff.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me wickedly. “Asshole!” she shouts into the phone.

  “Idiota.”

  “Jackass.”

  ”Asno.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Besteira.”

  She looks at me expectantly and holds the phone close to my mouth. “Fuck,” I say loudly.

  “Porra.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Cadela.”

  “Damn.”

  “Droga.”

  “Dick.”

  “Pênis.”

  “Looks like some words are universal.” Quinn giggles.

  We spend the next hour playing with Rafael until my phone rings. Bryce’s face pops up on the screen, and my heart starts to flutter.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Devon,” he sighs, “did you forget to call?”

  “No, I was going to call before we started our movie. When we got here, we sort of got sidetracked.”

  “Douche!” Quinn yells, and Rafael answers, “Ducha.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Bryce practically growls.

  I tell him about our new translator.

  “Your parents confiscated your fake ID, so you’re forced to sit in your room and learn how to cuss in Portuguese? That’s a new one.”

  “To be fair, we started out with key phrases in case we had to communicate with locals that don’t speak English. And my parents did not confiscate my ID. I’ll get it back.”

  My parents have known about my ID since I went to college, never really caring. As soon as Nate and I turned eighteen, we’ve been able to drink in social situations. As long as I promised to always be careful and responsible, they’ve never questioned me having it. Quinn’s parents are equally as cool, but they all made us turn them over before we left the country.