If Only (Captured)

by Louise J

  Roman leans back, supporting himself with his hands on the mattress. I tease the broad head with my tongue, swirling around it, and then I stroke his full length with long, slow licks along the underside of his shaft. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I seize as much of his length as I can. I’ve got about half of him covered. Sucking firmly as I retreat, my palm forms a tag team with my mouth and I go to work. My heavy breathing, through my nose, mingles with Roman’s groans. “Shit, you’re fucking incredible,” he says. That’s the first time I’ve heard him use a swear word. I like it. And it turns out that in over a year of no action, I haven’t forgotten how to use my mouth. I’d smile if I could.

  On perfect timing, with my over stretched and almost aching jaw, Roman eases me away from him and shifts back on the bed. I wipe my wet lips with my wrist as I stand up and watch him get naked. His body is lean and strong, with a sprinkle of fine blond hair scattered across his chest and down his stomach.

  He’s even sexier than I thought; a damn fine specimen of a man.

  I watch as he unrolls a condom, on to his monster of a cock, and then he ushers me to him, not that I need much persuasion. I’m more than game. I crawl on the bed and straddle him. Once I position myself correctly, I slowly, slowly, very slowly, ease myself down his long, thick hardness, letting it stretch me.

  “Oh, shit,” he says, as I stop at the base. “Oh, you’re tight.”

  A startled laugh escapes me. “Me tight! You huge! Is that even compatible?” I give an experimental grind of my hips. I feel full and stretched, quite stretched, but it doesn’t hurt.

  “Opposites attract, sugar.” His voice is strained and sexy. “Damn, you feel good.”

  Unhurriedly, I rise up and slide down, and up again. Roman holds my hips, but doesn’t try to influence my pace or depth. As I accommodate him better, sensations heighten, I get wetter, and so the cycle goes. It feels sooo much better. “Okay. Let’s fuck,” I tell him. He smirks at me, his expression is like that of a lion that’s about to attack his prey.

  As I ride him, taking every inch of him, Roman thrusts up into me, bringing about a divine interaction between pleasure and pain. Hell-fucking-yeah. He clasps my breasts firmly and then tugs on my nipple bars, the slight discomfort only adding to the enjoyment, and I liberate my moans.

  “You’re a little package of dynamite,” Roman says, as he rolls over, laying me on my back. I giggle at his words.

  Bending my knees toward my chest, with the soles of my feet against his pecs, he fucks me harder, faster. All this action has me gripping the edge of the mattress, above my head, and screaming like a fucking porn star. He’s taking me without mercy, there’s no pain, just pure, intense satisfaction.

  “Your cunt is insatiable,” he tells me, his voice coarse. He thrusts slightly harder, cursing as he comes.

  Seconds after he withdraws, he has his mouth buried in my ‘insatiable cunt.’ I lay like a jelly fish, feeling like I have nothing left to give, until the pulsating pleasure of orgasm consumes me. As it passes, I free his curls from my grip.

  After, we lay together, side by side, sticky, our legs entwined – sometimes talking, sometimes in silence – comfortable with each other, as always. I like this other side to Roman I’ve experienced. I’m not surprised, he’s always been suggestive and I suspected he’d be a beast in the bedroom. But I wasn’t expecting that behemoth cock of his.

  Now that was a surprise.

  Fifty Four

  It’s the day my parents and Elena, who’s now pregnant with her second child, and my cute little nephew, Caleb, are due to visit. We’ve planned their stay around the St Patrick’s Day celebrations at Fountain Hills.

  They’ll be meeting Roman for the first time. I’m not looking forward to that part, because I know mom and dad don’t approve of the age gap. They also think it’s a delayed rebound relationship, or some kind of comfort type thing. They’re wrong; Roman’s too good for that. Even after all this time I still feel guilty about Nick. I’ve learned from my mistakes, no way would I get involved with a guy unless it’s what I truly want.

  I do truly want to be with Roman.

  I’m in a good place at the moment. Roman is romantic and fun, and being with him is effortless. There’s no pressure, or expectations, we’re just going with it and enjoying each other.

  I’m bursting with excitement and I can’t stop peering through the window. Finally, I see my uncle driving up to the house. I rush out the front door and wait by the drive. When Uncle Vince parks up, my sister assists Caleb out, and he runs to me with his arms open wide. I adore being an aunt. I speak to Caleb all the time, and I love his chatter down the phone, but nothing beats seeing him and squeezing him.

  The house is full and lively now. We all sit in the living room drinking tea and coffee, and my parents and Roman talk. I’m trying not to watch them too much. The only person missing from this picture is Su; she and Zack are on vacation for their third wedding anniversary. Other than her absence, this all feels perfect.

  We arrive at the fountain in Fountain Hills and watch the water turn emerald green.

  “We should’ve dyed your hair to match,” Roman whispers to me.

  “I did one year for St Patrick’s Day. It was my worst hairstyle ever, big mistake.” He nods, amused. “Is everything okay so far?” I ask.

  “Yes, I told you not to worry. Give them time, it’s only natural they’d be concerned.” He pulls me into a side hug, I snake my arm around his waist.

  We spend some time enjoying the music, and food, and then I let the adults take pleasure in the beer garden while I take Caleb to the kids’ activities. He adores the Loving Leprechaun, who’s giving out lucky charms. At four years old it’s his first encounter with one and seeing him so excited is the best feeling. For a moment, I wonder what Joe’s boy is like, but I don’t let myself dwell. Thoughts like that do me no good.

  My sister joins us. We hug. I really miss her, even though we speak most days.

  “You two look like you’re having fun,” she says, as we release each other.

  “We’re having the best time. He’s had a lot of sugar, so he’ll be bouncing off the walls when we get back.”

  “This little one’s going crazy, too,” she says, patting her lovely baby bump. “Maybe a pint of Guinness would calm pip down,” she jokes, in a perfected Irish accent. I can’t resist placing my hand on her tummy. That flutter, the baby’s kick, is the strangest sensation. I was obsessed with it when she was carrying Caleb. I hope this one’s a girl.

  “Are mom and dad okay?” I ask.

  “You mean with Roman?” I nod. “They’re getting along. He’s nice, I like him and so do they. They’re just concerned about the age difference – sixteen years is sort of huge.”

  “I understand, but they don’t need to be concerned.”

  She hesitates. As I go to question her, she says, “They don’t think you’re over Joe. I don’t, either.”

  “Joe and I can’t be together, I have to move on with my life. Roman’s a great guy, it’s not some silly rebound thing and I don’t need a father figure. He’s younger than dad. But if I ever do want a father figure there’s this super hot sixty year old dude who works in the Salvation Army thrift store.”

  She laughs, her brown-eyed gaze breaking away from mine for a second. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. This is the happiest I’ve been in some time. I appreciate the mild intervention, but it’s not necessary. Roman and I really like each other.”

  She sighs, her brows pulling tight. “We want you happy, that’s what matters most, but we’re all disappointed that you’re not thinking of coming home. We figured you’d be here maybe six months, and it’s been like a year and a half. Now you’re in a relationship as well as working here.”

  “I didn’t expect to still be here, either. I don’t plan on staying forever.”

  Her frown deepens. “So what’s the point in getting with Roman then? Would he move to San Francisco?”

>   I shrug my shoulders. “We haven’t talked about that. It’s only been three and a half months, it’s early days. We’re just seeing how things go, like any other new couple. I’ll be with Roman for as long as it feels right and I’ll deal with where my future lies when I get there.” If there’s anything to be learned from knowing Roman, it’s living in the moment – that’s what he does. I like it that way and I prefer not getting caught up in thoughts of what’s to come – too much time gets wasted with that. I’m living in the now and I’m happy right now. That’s all that matters.

  Fifty Five

  Time flies when you’re having fun. The past twenty-one months, with Roman, have been an amazing journey. We’ve been living together since the five month mark. It wasn’t intended, but it was a natural, even though quick, progression. We spend every free moment with each other and we’ve had many adventures, taking trips across the U.S. and beyond, to France, England and Ireland.

  I don’t know how, but somehow, this boyfriend of mine persuaded me to participate in the Scottsdale Fiesta Bowl half marathon – the 24th annual run. It’s taking place on September 2nd and we started training for it in April. I’ve hated every second of it and I’ve complained like crazy. I even tried to get out of doing it, a number of times, but Roman was having none of it. Apparently, I’ll be glad I did it after. I beg to differ.

  He drags me out of the house most mornings, just after sunrise when it’s nice and cool, and we run Scottsdale Road. He says it’s that part that will be the hardest point of the run, because it’s the steepest bit. Six freakin’ miles he makes me do, and then I spend the day eating like a horse. What’s up with that? I’m certain I’ve gained a few pounds; I can feel it in my denim. God only knows how I’ll manage the fourteen miles on the day. I don’t know how, or why, people do full marathons, it’s insane.

  I have to admit, I’ve improved my stamina and I’m more flexible because of the rigorous stretch sessions he puts me through. I’ve even succumbed to doing Yoga twice a week, and our sex is pretty athletic, too. That part I do enjoy.

  I appreciate all the additional benefits of the running and the stretching, but I know, even if Roman doesn’t think it, that I’m stopping the exercise stuff right after the marathon. I’ll stick to Yoga, but that’s it. Working out is just not my thing, I don’t like it and I never will. I probably take advantage of the fact that my weight, with the exception of now, has barely budged throughout my adult life, and so far my sister and I are taking after mom. If we continue this way, we’ll never actively have to work to keep our size. If that changes, then I’ll haul my ass off to the fitness center.

  The weeks are drawing closer and between training and work, I’m the busiest I’ve ever been. My business has gone from strength to strength, most of which has been due to wedding photography, which I’ve come to adore, especially creating the photo albums.

  It’s Sunday today and I’m doing a wedding – the likes of which I’ve been brainwashed by, in two ways. First of all, I never considered doing this as part of my career as a photographer, but I’ve loved it. Secondly, I’ve come to admire the big traditional types and I find myself making mental notes of what I would and wouldn’t want. My sister started playing the bride from the age of six, I was always the priest. From then on she spent her entire life, up until her big day, planning it. I’m now doing what she did then, at age twenty-eight.

  I arrive at the hotel the bride-to-be is staying in, which is only a short distance from St Mary’s Basilica, a lovely church in phoenix where she’s getting married. As I take pictures of the pretty lady getting ready, in her lace and silk gown, I can’t believe I almost got married myself. I don’t always have these thoughts, when I do jobs like this, but every now and then I do. It seems as though it was a lifetime ago, in some ways someone else’s life.

  Now that I’ve been brainwashed, I’m glad I didn’t. I know I wouldn’t have regretted my choice then, especially as that’s what suited me most at the time, but if and when it does happen, I’m doing the whole Bridezilla thing. I still want a day that reflects my style, edgy and funky, but with a traditional feel to it as well, and I want all my family and friends there.

  I feel like I’ve grown, and in certain ways changed, since I first arrived in Scottsdale.

  The day finally ends. It was enjoyable, but long. I’m happy to be home. I’m also glad to find Roman is still up.

  “Hey.” He greets me with his fabulous smile. “How’d it go?”

  “Great.” I put down my stuff on the floor, by the front door, and join him.

  We sit at the breakfast bar and I tell him about the day. If it were a female I was with I’d give every last detail, something I do frequently with Elena who loves hearing about some of the weddings, but I spare Roman with a brief version.

  Long days like this earn me a neck, shoulder and back massage. Once I finish talking, I lie face down on Roman’s massage table, and he rewards my hard work. I close my eyes, winding down, and listen to him talk about his happenings.

  ****

  It’s my day off from photography work, so it’s sculpture time. Before I get started, I’m sitting out on the deck, shaded from the hot sun, with the newspaper and a coffee. I’m blocking out all thoughts of Friday’s marathon, I can’t believe it’s only four days away. On the plus side, my family’s due in three days. That’s the only good thing about this week. I’m aching to see my niece and nephew, I’ve missed out on so much of Madison’s first year of life. I can’t wait to see Su and my sister and my parents.

  Damn it, I can’t wait to see them all.

  Scanning the front page headlines, today’s date literally jumps out and smacks me cold in the face. My cup falls from my hand, hitting the ground with a fracturing crack. I barely register the feel of warm liquid splashed down my lower leg.

  August 29th 2011. Joe’s birthday. He’s thirty-three today.

  A chill runs through me and my skin prickles with goose bumps. I’ve prepared for this date, and the other significant dates that follow it, for the past two years. Call me sentimental, or call me stupid, but these dates mean something to me, even though they hurt. I’m amazed I could’ve forgotten, but I have. I’ve been so caught up in preparing for the run, work, and my family’s visit, I didn’t consider anything else.

  It’s three years from the day that Joe and I got together, in four days it will be three years to the day that I left his condo, and the last time we spoke, and in six days it will be three years to the day we were to marry. How could I forget? It was only yesterday I thought about how close I was to getting married. God, it still hurts. It’s as painful now as it was back then.

  When will I stop loving that man?

  Why does it seem as though my feelings for Joe are stuck in a time warp? Why can’t I get over him? He rode into my life ten years ago, and I’ve loved him almost every single day since.

  A freaking decade!

  We didn’t even last a week.

  I have to let this go, we were never meant to be. I’m with Roman now and my life is here with him.

  I can’t love Joe anymore. I don’t want to.

  Fifty Six

  The past three days have been internal torture, and I’ve tried to suffer in silence. I’ve snapped at Roman, unnecessarily, several times. I hate myself for it, that’s not how we are, but I’ve been unable to stop it. Thank God for PMS, or, at least, having it as a cover up. I detest lying to Roman.

  I’m relying heavily on the distraction of my family, for the next few days, as well as the physical and mental pain of the run to get me through this week. Once it passes, I can get on with my life, again, just as I had been. All I need is for this week to be done.

  I’m at my aunt and uncle’s and two cars pull up outside. I sprint out the front door, and Caleb and Madison run straight for me. I squeeze them both, breathing in their delightful kiddy smells.

  We all have lunch in the backyard and there’s so much to talk about, it’s impossible to
get everything out. After we eat, Roman leaves for work. My guilty conscience for my mood these past few days has me hugging him on the door step for way too long. It’s the only way I can express an apology without saying the words. Eventually, I have to let go – he does have a job to get to.

  Soon after, the rest of us go to the park. When we get there, Su and I take the kids to the play area, while the others head for the sheltered picnic tables.

  “Su, can you hold Madison’s hand while I get my camera out.”

  “Sure.” She reaches out to the blonde cutie and heaves her up into her arms, squeezing a giggle out of her.

  “No.” I’m literally pushing my face into my backpack.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have it. I think I left it in the backyard with my cell phone. I thought I picked them up.”

  “You were distracted with this young lady.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I want photos of today. I’ll have to go back and get it.”

  “Use my phone, it has an awesome camera.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Caleb is a typical six-year old and gets to entertaining himself fast. Maddie takes more care, so Su and I stay with her, but I keep an eye on the little guy. The heat means our time is limited; it’s too hot for the adults, never mind the kids, so we head back and hang out at the house with the A.C. on.

  I’m under strict orders from Roman to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow. Not easy when I’m here with Su. I’m staying at my aunt and uncle’s, so I can make the most of my family. Su and I are in the living room, on an air bed. We’ve talked nonstop; there’s been so much to catch up on, even with frequent calls and texts. Nothing compares with face-to-face.

  We’re the only ones still awake and we’ve been talking about Su’s new house. I’ve seen pictures by e-mail and I want to see the real deal. I’d been thinking about whether I should finally visit San Francisco, I started to feel ready, but with the pain Joe’s birthday has caused I’m not so sure.

  I did have some concerns already, namely, unexpectedly bumping into Joe. I even had a dream one night where I was in the grocery store, strolling along with my cart, not looking where I was going, and then, thump – I walked straight into the back of him. Just as he started to turn around, I woke up. I didn’t see his face, his eyes. I was thankful.