His Eternal Flame

by Valentine, Layla

  “After you, milady.”

  “I thank you, kind sir,” she replied playfully.

  Somewhat nervously, I led her to my front door. I’d had a lot of women in and out of that entrance, but I hadn’t much cared what any of them thought. Maybe that made me a bit of a jerk, but with Samantha, I wanted to be different.

  It was all different, actually. Her opinion mattered to me. I didn’t just want her to like my place. I wanted her to expand her view of me and the life I’d built working in LA.

  Maybe neither of us wanted to move, but I certainly wanted some kind of commitment from Samantha, because I knew I wanted her in my life.

  I pushed the door open and spread my arm out towards my living room.

  “Welcome.”

  Samantha breezed by me, her gaze taking in everything. I closed the door behind her and locked it. She was here, in my home, and suddenly, my need overwhelmed me.

  This time, I wasn’t holding back.

  Chapter 15

  Samantha

  When we arrived at Dustin’s place, I was surprised to see a narrow yet elegant set of condos. We pulled inside a garage that was neat and tidy, but that was only the beginning.

  The real shock was when I walked in and observed just how luxurious the place was. I thought it might be a bit empty, like abodes of other men I’d known, but Dustin, it turned out, was a collector.

  He walked in behind me and flicked on a lamp, one of several around the main room. Bright, colorful artwork lined the walls, framed posters of movies from the Golden Age. I didn’t think I’d seen any of them, but I instantly knew I wanted to, cuddled up next to Dustin.

  Outside of the artwork, his color scheme was fairly muted, generally browns and greens, but it made the room feel warm and cozy. The leather couch was plush and wide, and matched with another recliner. They sat before a huge television that hung on the wall, centered in the long living room.

  Even after seeing the posters on the walls, I was still surprised by the sheer number of movies in the shelving below the TV.

  “Wow. I didn’t realize you were such a movie buff.”

  He glanced down at his collection.

  “Oh, well, partly. But a lot of that is research.”

  “Research?”

  He pointed to several titles. “These are all different kinds of action flicks.”

  “Oh, right. For your stuntman stuff.”

  “Exactly. I like to study what’s been done and how they did it—when did the stuntman come in, what was he expected to do, that kind of stuff.”

  “That actually sounds pretty interesting.”

  He laughed, flashing his white teeth in that dazzling smile.

  “Thanks. I think so. What’s really interesting is when actors sometimes do their own stunts, how that changes the angles of the fights and how they’re filmed.”

  “I never really thought about it before.”

  “Well, it’s my thing.”

  “I can see that.” I looked down at all the titles before the bottom shelf snagged my attention. “Are these all about fires?”

  He pulled me away and tilted my chin towards him.

  “I like movies about firefighters. Being a stuntman in a movie about what I already do would be the ultimate goal. But I know that stuff makes you nervous, so…how about some wine?”

  “That’s right. You like wine?” I replied, relieved at his perceptiveness.

  “Ha. It’s not all just beer around here.”

  I glanced around at everything. “Definitely not.”

  He flicked on the kitchen light. In contrast to what I expected, the kitchen looked pretty well-used, with a few dishes in the sink, towels on the counter, and several coffee containers. It had a 50s vibe that I thought made a nice contrast to the living room.

  Dustin rummaged around in a cabinet before pulling out two wine glasses.

  “Is rioja okay?”

  “Sure,” I told him.

  He nodded and snagged a bottle off the counter. After pouring, he offered me a glass and took his own.

  “A toast?”

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. “To…motivations.”

  His lips curved in a sensual invitation.

  “To motivations,” he agreed. He gestured with his glass to the couch. “Shall we?”

  “Sure.”

  I followed him to his couch and sank down into its luxurious embrace.

  “Ooh. This is really comfy,” I sighed happily.

  He slid next to me.

  “To be honest, sometimes I think I sleep on here more than in my bed.”

  “Is that so?”

  The couch was looking more appealing with every moment. I sipped my wine and it settled warmly in my stomach. The touch of his fingers trailing across my arm sent electric tingles through my skin. I looked up at him.

  “Samantha,” he whispered.

  I shifted forward and kissed him. He leaned into me, and the gulf of five years melted away. He was as familiar to me as my own body, yet completely foreign at the same time. I wanted more.

  Apparently, he felt the same way.

  “Let me get these out of the way,” he rasped, grabbing my wineglass and setting it on the end table nearest us.

  He followed that with his own, then swiftly turned and pulled me against him. I ran my hands through his hair and linked my hands behind his neck.

  “Dustin,” I whispered into his hair.

  I pressed a kiss to his ear and he shuddered at my touch. He leaned into me, rubbing his face against mine.

  “I want you,” he murmured.

  “Good,” I told him. “Then let’s get rid of this shirt, huh?”

  He slid his lips to my neck.

  “I thought that was my line,” he grinned.

  He slipped his hands under my shirt to knead my back. His hands were warm, his fingers strong, and they worked my muscles, relaxing me even further. I took my arms from around his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt. With every open button, I kissed a little more of his chest.

  “That feels amazing,” he breathed.

  My entire body flushed with desire. Before I could try and protest, he lifted me up and bent me backwards so my breasts brushed against his chest. He bent his head and pressed his lips against my throat. The heat of his tongue slid along my exposed skin, followed by my strangled moans.

  My back arched and his chest slid across mine as he lifted my shirt over my head. Cool air floated across my chest, raising goosebumps. He reached around with one hand and easily undid my bra, then his head drifted lower until his mouth hovered above my breast.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I sighed.

  Dustin’s tongue flicked out and any words fell away. He moved his lips to my other nipple, just one flick, before returning to the first one. He continued in the same pattern, licking each one, back and forth.

  Desire built inside me and I found myself begging for more.

  “Dustin…please…”

  He chuckled and looked into my eyes as I burned with need.

  “As milady desires.”

  It should’ve been cheesy, that line. But when he returned his head to my breast and fully pulled it into his warm mouth, I arched with pleasure. Dustin definitely appeared to remember what I liked, licking and biting me softly.

  But he was only getting started. His hand slid further down, his fingers hot ribbons that danced down my stomach and along my hip, before settling at the juncture between my thighs, not quite touching where I pulsated and ached with need.

  The only thing I wanted was to rip off my jeans as desire surged through my body, stronger than before.

  Dustin smiled at me, then, almost a wicked smile, before bending his head to kiss just above my waistband. I moaned as my hips thrust upward. In response, he unbuttoned my jeans at last.

  “Yes…”

  He slowly pulled down my zipper, his lips following that path. When it was finally open, he reached up and pulle
d the material down, taking my panties with them, exposing me fully to his gaze.

  “So lovely.”

  He trailed his fingers down and began stroking me. Pleasure quickly built between my legs, but before it could rise any higher, he stopped. I gasped in surprise.

  “Shh. Just wait.”

  Dustin lifted me to lay across the couch, then resettled his head between my legs. I watched as he slowly dipped his tongue out and ran it over my aching skin. A small gasp came out of me and my hips bucked, but he held me firmly.

  Slowly, with agonizing patience, he spread me apart entirely and took my pearl into his mouth. Again, pleasure rose inside me, waves of bliss that swept me higher and higher with every stroke of his tongue.

  Suddenly, I had to touch him. I reached out and grabbed his head, and he moved with the pressure of my hands, bringing his body to push against mine. I grabbed his shirt and yanked it off his shoulders. He pulled it the rest of the way off while my hands roamed over his taut, hot skin.

  Another moan slipped out of me as his lips trailed across my collarbone. I slid my hands down and grabbed his hips, grinding my body against his.

  “Samantha,” he gasped.

  “Bed?” I asked.

  Without another word, he stood and lifted me. I wrapped my legs back around him as he carried me into his bedroom. Light trickled in from the rest of the condo, so he walked straight to the bed and laid me on top of it. He quickly slid his own jeans down, followed by his briefs.

  His manhood jutted out proudly, fully aroused. I sat up and reached for him, pulling his body closer, closing the space between us. His lips collided with mine as he pushed me deeper into the bed.

  His hands were everywhere—fingers running through my hair, sliding over my stomach, urging my legs farther apart. He whispered my name over and over as my own hands wandered over his body, relearning the angles I’d briefly known so well.

  His tongue played in circles along my throat, moving slowly downward while his lips scorched a trail of fire all the way down to my thighs.

  “Now, where were we?” he whispered.

  A gasp tore from my throat as his mouth captured my clit and began to lick circles around it. At the same time, his hands drifted upward until it they settled on my breasts, his fingers pulling lightly on my nipples.

  “Please…please.”

  His tongue spread the wet slickness building between my legs, lips sucking oh-so-gently at my swollen flesh. Moans tore from my throat, one after the other, as I felt the intense warmth of his mouth stoking the heat inside of me, higher and higher.

  Pure pleasure poured in waves across my body and I screamed his name.

  “Dustin!”

  Pleasure bloomed inside me, and I shuddered and shook with the force of my orgasm. After a few moments, he lifted his head to lock gazes with me, then covered my body with his own and kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding in to claim my breath.

  After a moment, he shifted once more as he grabbed my thighs and pushed them fully apart.

  “You want me?”

  I nodded, aching still.

  “Yes, Dustin. Always.”

  He lowered his hips and I felt his throbbing shaft pulsing against the cleft between my legs. Pleasure swept through me once more at the feel of his heated skin. I urged him on, wrapping my legs around him. With a deep thrust, he was inside me, burning me from the inside, but this was a fire I craved, as did he.

  Dustin thrusted harder and faster, his body smoldering against mine. Once more, my pleasure built again, higher and stronger.

  I moved with him, matching him stroke for stroke, moan for moan, until, with a final strong thrust, we peaked together, shaking the bed frame with the force of our climaxes.

  We lay there gasping for a few minutes. His head remained buried in my neck while my lips pressed against his forehead. He finally lifted his head to look down at me, a tender smile in place.

  “I missed you. More than you know.”

  I chuckled. “I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

  He pulled me into the nook of his shoulder and I relaxed into his embrace.

  “As good as you remembered?” he asked lightly.

  I kissed his chest. “Better.”

  At that, exhaustion finally caught up with me. It had been a long, strange, and unexpected day. I’d woken up in Philly, spent the day infuriated by Alistair, and now was in bed next to a man I hadn’t seen in five years, one I’d refused to think of because of how awful I’d felt when he left.

  Yet, here I was, snuggling up to this man who should’ve been a stranger. A man I’d told my most intimate secrets without regret.

  And now, I’d fully given my body to him. Again, I felt no regrets. Only the need to keep Dustin in my life. Despite his track record, I was starting to believe he felt the same.

  “Bet you never imagined your day ending like this,” he murmured as he kissed the top of my head.

  “Ha. Exactly what I was thinking,” I murmured, my voice thick with sleep.

  “I, for one, am extremely glad you came over.”

  He snuck a finger under my chin and lifted my face until he could meet my gaze.

  “And this time, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “It is your house, after all,” I whispered sleepily.

  He laughed, then sobered.

  “I’m not letting you go anywhere, then.”

  “Good,” I replied, nearly asleep.

  Just before I drifted off, I had a final thought. “The lights?”

  He stroked my hair. “I’ll get them later. Sleep.”

  And sleep I did.

  Chapter 16

  Dustin

  I watched Samantha’s face relax as she fell into slumber; she looked just as beautiful asleep. I was pretty tired, too, but my head was full of thoughts that refused to be quieted.

  In all my years of living at the condo, I’d never dared to imagine her in it, filling it with her scent, with the subtle elegance of her movements. Yet from her first step inside, the shadows of other nights with other women faded completely away.

  There was only her and me, together at last. It was all that mattered.

  I wondered if this was love, this desire to cradle her and protect her, to want to make her smile and dream together. From what I’d heard about love, it was a whole lot like how I was feeling.

  It was crazy in some ways. In a sense, I’d only ever known Samantha for two days—two evenings and nights, actually—with five years in between.

  How could I possibly love her? Be in love with her? Would she even believe how I felt if I told her? Was I going mad?

  Yet the thought of losing her again brought with it such a dizzying sense of loss, I’d have fallen over if I wasn’t already in bed. Somehow, I knew Samantha fulfilled me in a way I’d never been in my entire life.

  I felt more for her than I had for any women I’d ever slept with or even officially dated. From the moment we’d met, there’d been this electric current that sparked a deep connection, one I’d severed prematurely because I’d been so stuck on thinking of my life and my wants that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.

  Sure, the timing had been awful before. It was pretty bad now—she was only in town for a work conference. But if there was anything I’d learned in life, it was that there was never a perfect moment for something to happen. You had to go out and find a way to make life work, take every opportunity and not let go.

  And I wasn’t letting go of Samantha. Not this time.

  Given what she’d told me about the loss of her parents, I knew she understood just how precious and short a thing life was. Hopefully, if she felt the way I did, she wouldn’t let go of me, either. She’d understand that we had to choose now to be together, because we couldn’t predict the future.

  Granted, I had no idea how it would work. I mean, I was perfectly content to stay in LA, but would Samantha even consider moving here? If not, how would we make it work?

 
; I couldn’t imagine only seeing her just a few times a year. Even once a month wouldn’t be enough. I wanted her in my bed every night; I wanted to see her beautiful smile every morning.

  She’d told me she wasn’t happy with her work and life in Philly, but that she also couldn’t imagine moving. She’d need some sort of motivation to consider it, but could I be that motivation? Would she resent me for wanting her to come to California instead of me returning to our hometown?

  My thoughts swirled back and forth, but my body was aching for sleep, satiated from our mind-blowing session of sex. I eased out of bed, turned out the lights, and was back without her moving an inch.

  I curled around her warmth and closed my eyes. Slowly, my worries faded and I slid into sleep. Then, I dreamed.

  Samantha turned her head to look away from me. She stood on the tarmac, ready to board a plane.

  “I know it’s a big decision. But I need to know.”

  “Give up everything? For you?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  “Yes. That’s what I’m asking.”

  “I’m afraid to give up my life.” Her voice trembled.

  “That’s not what you’re afraid of,” I insisted, pulling her away from the plane to look at me.

  “What if you leave me again?” she asked. “Do you know how hard it was to get over you before?”

  I pulled her closer.

  “I know. In fact, I never did. Which is why I’m here, now, begging you not to go.”

  Her eyes softened. “You don’t have to beg. I love you.”

  “Oh, sweet Samantha. I love you, too.”

  I pulled her fully into my embrace and kissed her fiercely. We turned and walked into my bedroom. I didn’t try to understand how or why. I only knew that she was there and I was going to make love to her.

  “Take me, Dustin,” she whispered.

  “Yes, Samantha.”

  I pulled her dress over her head and threw it to the ground. She pulled my shirt open, the pop buttons making short work of it for her. When my chest was bare, she scraped her fingernails lightly across my chest before rubbing her face against my skin.