Every Night

by Lexy Timms

“All weird, huh? You can tell me anything, Hailey. Absolutely anything.”

  “You make me a better person.”

  “No, I don’t. Your light that shines on my life makes me a better man,” I said.

  “Doesn’t mean you don’t do the same for me. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been this inspired with my art. Your support and your love, it’s ignited something in me that’s laid dormant for a really long time.”

  I looked down at her while she gazed out over her darkened apartment. She seemed more relaxed, but the tension in her fingers was evident in the way she was grasping her wine glass. Her knuckles were white, and her forearms were pulled taut. There was something she was holding back from me, and I wanted her to know she could tell me.

  I wanted her to know she could talk with me.

  “You know you can tell me anything, right?” I asked as I took her wine glass.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Which means that whatever’s on your mind right now, we can sit and discuss it.”

  I took her hands within mine and turned her toward me. Her eyes were plagued with a darkness I’d never seen before in her stare, and it was beginning to worry me. I studied the way she clutched my hands. The way her arms were trembling from the exertion of her grip. I brought her hands to my lips to kiss them, trying to melt away the fear and anguish that was gripping her soft, supple body.

  “Just say it,” I said, whispering. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

  I saw tears crest her eyes, and in that moment, I felt like the knight she always proclaimed I was to her. She was crumbling right in front of my eyes, and she was comfortable doing it. She took a small step toward me, her eyes never leaving mine as her neck craned to keep me in her vision.

  But the moment she jumped up and slammed her lips into mine, we both sank to the floor as the heat and electricity took us to our knees.

  Chapter 26

  Hailey

  Our bodies rushed to the floor of my apartment as he hoisted himself on top of me. Our lips battled for dominance as I pushed his suit coat from his shoulders. I could feel every muscle of his body heating up as my hands caressed every part of him I could touch, and as his hands crept up underneath my shirt, I could feel my body giving way to him.

  His touch was life-giving. It coursed through my veins a beating drum that shook my body alive. Never in my life had I felt this beautiful and this loved in the arms of a man before, and every single gulp I drank of him healed a part of me I refused to acknowledge was damaged. With each passing second as his hands traveled along my body, I could feel my soul repairing itself. I could feel my heart reverting back to the song it used to sing before my parents abandoned me.

  Before I moved to L.A.

  Before I realized the horrors this world was capable of.

  His lips traveled along my cheek, kissing and nipping as he found his way to my neck. My arms rushed his back, raking my fingertips along his clothed body while his lips peppered me with kisses. I could feel his tongue rushing up the pulse point of my neck as my legs wrapped around his waist, and before he could lap up another part of my body, I rolled us over so he was on his back.

  My lips connected with his before I pulled my shirt over my head. His hands traveled my thighs. My ass. My waist. Drawing my curves with the palms of his large hands while my lips traveled to his neck. I sucked in patches of skin, marking him as mine while low groans escaped from between his perfect lips. I could feel his fingertips unzipping my pencil skirt, rolling down the fabric while my fingers worked desperately to unbutton his shirt.

  He rolled us over again and quickly pulled my legs free from that damn skirt. I sighed with relief when he pulled off his shirt, his muscles glazed with the light of the moon, and I sat up to meet him. My hands ran up his torso, feeling every sinewy muscle jump at my touch before I rested my lips against his chest. Kiss after kiss was planted onto his skin, and for a moment, we both froze. He was on his knees, and I was sitting on my ass while the darkness of my small apartment consumed us. We were both struggling for air amidst the dark waters that dinner had tossed us into, and I wanted to put the entire thing behind us.

  I wanted to enjoy him the way I knew he wanted to enjoy me.

  His hands slowly slid around my back and unhooked my bra. I tossed the garment to the side, baring my body for him as my hands sank to his pants. One by one, we slid the rest of each other’s clothes off before he laid me back down on the floor, his lips ghosting over mine while my hands roamed his muscles.

  His tongue slipped between my lips, his hands massaging my body. Every crevice of my shaking form was touched by him as he seated himself between my legs. I held him tightly around his neck, pulling him deeper and deeper. I began rolling my hips into his, and soon, he was slipping deep into my body while we both groaned into each other’s lips.

  “I love you, Bryan,” I said breathlessly.

  “And I love you, Hailey.”

  His hips rolled into mine, surging my veins with an electric force not even the sky itself could rain down on us. I locked my legs around his, pulling him closer to me, my hands taking in every single inch of him I could reach. I couldn't stop touching him. Couldn't stop feeling him. His back, his arms, his legs, his waist, all of it working in tandem with each other to bring me the pleasure I was feeling right now.

  The pleasure I always felt when I was in his arms.

  “The things you do to me,” he said into my skin. “Oh, fuck.”

  I pressed my hands onto his chest and pushed him off me. I scurried up onto my knees, dipping my face to his throbbing cock as I slowly took him between my lips. He scooted himself back up against the front door, his body shivering as I lavished him with my tongue. I could feel my arousal dripping down the insides of my thighs as I laid onto my stomach, taking him deeper and deeper as he grew against my teeth.

  “Hailey. Oh, shit.”

  I loved his sounds. I loved the way he said my name. Every part of him was something new to explore as my fingertips danced along the inside of his chiseled thighs. I could feel his hips rolling into me as I sucked him, his twitching thickness applauding me as I ran my tongue around every single inch of him.

  I felt his hand run through the short pink spikes of my hair, trying desperately to find something to cling to while my hands roamed up his chest.

  He interlocked our fingers, and I felt how heated his body had become. How much he enjoyed the attention I was showing his body as he pressed his back into my front door. I bobbed my head up and down, willing him to tremble at my mercy as his breaths continued to come in short pants. This man, this knight who had saved my gallery and brought more joy into my life than I could’ve ever imagined, was groaning and whimpering at the touch of my lips while his hands gripped tightly onto mine.

  But I couldn’t stay there for much longer. I had to feel him. I had to experience him.

  I had to connect myself with him.

  Pulling my lips from his body, I straddled his lap while he caught his breath. His lips pressed into my chest, covering me with weak kisses as his hands slowly migrated to my hips. He ran his hands up and down my sides, making me shiver as I hovered over his body. His face was flushed with lust and want, but the moment he opened his eyes to find mine, I could see nothing but love in them.

  His dark, brooding eyes had come alive as I sank down onto him, and he pressed against every part of me as I quivered in his lap.

  Together, we rolled and we bucked. His lips wrapped around my pert nipples while my hands raked through his hair. He gripped hard onto my hips, so hard I knew he’d leave bruises behind. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care where or how he marked me. All I wanted was to feel him knock against me. Feel him rolling and thrusting and gyrating. His arms wrapped around me, pulling my chest close to his as my face buried in the crook of his neck.

  His hips slammed up into me time and time again as my body shook at his assault.

  “Hailey. Hailey. Yes, just l
ike this.”

  I pressed my hands into the door behind him as his face delved into my chest. I could feel him pressing warm, sensuous kisses to them as I rolled down into his movements. My body was on fire even though I felt like I was freezing, and I felt my body closing around his as I whimpered into his skin.

  His lips fled to catch mine, our sloppy kisses desperate to cover one another as my sounds grew more and more anxious.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. My entire body shook and jolted with every single thrust he delivered. With a sudden roll, I was on my back, the cool floor shooting glorious pains through my system as my leg was crooked over Bryan’s shoulder. His lips stayed connected with mine as my body opened up for him, and the spot he kept rubbing against within my body sent my back arching and my throat groaning.

  “There it is,” he said, panting. “Right there.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Bryan. What? What are you?”

  Harder and harder he pumped, coating himself in me as his fingertips trickled down my stomach. I could feel him parting my dripping lips, looking for that one beautiful little spot he knew would drive me wild. His eyes watched me intently as a dark grin spread across his face, and the moment his thumb flicked my swollen nub, I knew I was done.

  “Bryan!”

  My hands flew to his hair, crashing his lips down onto mine. My body tripped over the edge, and I shook and quaked as his thumb worked its wonderful magic, feeling him twitch inside of me and swallowing his groans. Our bodies were sweating, covering each other as he buried himself inside of me one last time.

  I pulled as much of him as I could into my body before I felt it leaking onto the floor.

  His body dropped to mine, and I gripped him as tightly as I could. He pressed kiss after kiss on my shoulder, trying to settle my body as tears rose to my eyes. I held him as close as I could, rolling with him when he finally slid off the side of my body. My cheek found the swell of his strong chest as his arm strongly wrapped around me, holding me close to him as we both tried to catch our breath.

  The words I spoke flew from my mouth without a moment’s hesitation, and I knew I’d given myself over to him in a way I’d never be able to get back.

  I’d never be able to return to the woman I was before he’d come knocking on my door all those weeks ago.

  “You are, without a doubt, the most incredible man I’ve ever met.”

  I felt his fingertips playing against my skin as I felt his heartbeat slowly evening out.

  “You fill me with a passion I haven’t felt in years. You’ve jump-started a muse within me that had been dried up and barren for as long as I can remember. Your smile makes me weak in my knees, and your kiss sets flame to a fire that ravages my soul. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Bryan McBride, and there isn’t a moment that will ever go by where I won’t try to convince you of that.”

  I felt his body trembling again as his arms embraced me tightly. We laid there on the floor of my apartment, naked and spent as we held each other close. I pressed kisses into his chest while he peppered my forehead with his own, and it wasn’t until I woke up the next morning in my bed that I realized he’d moved us at some point in time.

  I woke up with my limbs tangled up in his. This was where I wanted to be more than anything. I wanted to be tangled up in him for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 27

  Bryan

  We were finally on the last leg of the renovations for Hailey’s art gallery. The outside had been painted and redone, the sign had been put up out front, and the inside had been fully decorated. All we had to do was gloss the floor, put in a few new fixtures for the light switches and the bathroom, and mount permanent hooks into the freshly-painted walls so she could hang her first pieces of work. If all went well this week, we could wrap up, and Hailey could officially open her gallery to the public.

  I was excited for her and couldn’t wait for the grand opening.

  The last couple of weeks had flown by. The crew had kicked it into gear to get it finished before the end of July, and they had really pulled through. The homeless crew started working as if they had been employed with this type of work their entire lives, and a swell of pride overcame me as I watched them go through and find studs to hang the hooks from. I walked through everything one last time to make sure all we had done was ready to go, and then my eyes began searching for Hailey.

  But all morning, she had been absent.

  I knew Hailey better than to think she wouldn’t be here, but there were only two places she could be. She was either in that back room that housed so many wonderful memories for us, or she was out in that storage shed. I poked my head around into the room to see if she was working on one of her paintings, but when I didn’t see her, I pushed myself out back.

  The storage door was open, but she was nowhere to be found.

  “Hailey?” I called out. “You around?”

  The door creaked open, and I walked around to see what was going on. I poked my head into the storage unit and looked around, thinking maybe Hailey had lost herself in figuring out which paintings she would hang first. She kept talking about how she wanted her first gallery to be of paintings her art therapy students had done, so I knew she was probably digging through everything, trying to make decisions on which ones to hang first.

  There were paintings everywhere. Landscapes and portraits. Some abstract paintings and some that were very primal and caveman-like. I was mesmerized by all of them as I picked one up, studying the brushstrokes of the person I didn’t recognize in the painting. It was a raven-haired woman with hazel eyes and a bright smile. Her dark skin jumped from the canvas as the light blue background played well against her features. I wondered what kind of life she might’ve led. I wondered what put such a broad smile on her face.

  I wondered what she did that had landed her in Hailey’s art therapy classes.

  I put it down and picked up another one, surveying the sunset that was painted across the canvas. With the sun setting over the ocean, it had to be someone from L.A., and I smiled as I surveyed all the colors that bled into one another. Even though the colors were vibrant and awe-inspiring, there was a darkness to the ocean that shouldn’t have been prevalent. If anything, the sunset should’ve been reflected in the waters.

  But it wasn’t.

  Instead, the ocean was dark. Almost black in nature. It pulled a sadness from deep within my soul. A sadness I didn’t quite understand. Even with the beauty of this sunset before them, this person still felt as if the waters would drown them, open up and swallow them whole.

  It brought back so many familiar memories that I had to put it down.

  There was something achingly familiar about all of them. The ebony-skinned woman. The darkened ocean. I picked up another one that caught my eye. Geometric patterns with lines that weren’t completely straight. Sloppy shading done with colors that didn’t quite blend together. I turned it around in my hands, trying to find the focal point. Trying to find the top of the painting so that the image the artist was trying to convey would finally come together as my eyes searched for its purpose.

  But the moment the tattoo on my arm came into view, I realized why the geometry stood out so brazenly to me.

  It was too sloppy to be Hailey’s work, but it was too intricate to be a simple finger painting, as my parents put it. I stared at my tattoo as my gaze fluttered from my arm to the painting. How in the world were they so similar? Had I run into one of her art therapy students during my trips to L.A.?

  Then, another painting caught my eye, the painting of the cabin in the woods.

  I dropped the canvas I was holding and quickly picked it up. I’d studied it once before, back when I’d first met Hailey. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now there was something gnawing at my gut, something that was telling me I knew who this artist was.

  And it was killing me that I couldn’t find a name on these pieces.

  Every si
ngle one of them spoke to me. Like a distant song being whispered in my ear. They resonated with a part of me that pushed tears to my eyes, except I had no idea why I wanted to cry. I had no idea why it pulled such a deep-seated sadness all the way to the surface, but as my eyes danced over the cabin painting my blood began to run cold.

  The Jeep sitting beside the cabin.

  The trees blowing in the wind.

  The logs that were polished and shone against the light streaming through the windows and out into the summer sun.

  The summer sun.

  The leaves were all green, even the ones on the ground. The sun was high in the sky as it shone through the thick brush of trees, casting a deep shadow onto the ground. My eyes followed the shadow as the tattoo on my back came to the forefront of my memory. They weren’t identical. Not completely. But they were close.

  They were so close they could’ve almost been ...

  I studied the shadow the cabin was casting off to the side. There was something painted in the shadow. Something I hadn’t caught before because this damn storage unit had no fluorescent light. I stepped out of the shed with the painting in hand as the San Diego sun started beating down onto my back, and the moment I saw what my eyes didn’t register before I felt my entire body trembling.

  There were two small boys, crouched down in the shadows with smiles on their faces.

  “Bryan?”

  I heard her voice, but my mind was whirling. My fingertips danced across the two boys in the painting. They were so small compared to the cabin but filled with so much life.

  “Bryan, I can explain.”

  I frantically searched for a name. A sign. A scribble. Anything to denote who might’ve done this painting. Anything that might denote who the fuck had painted this personal scene I’d had tattooed on my lower back.

  But the moment I flipped the painting over and saw his name, I felt it slip from my fingers and crash to the ground.

  “John,” I said, whispering.

  John had painted that picture.