Dear Life

by Meghan Quinn

  I continue to pay attention to her nipples because, fuck, she has amazing tits. You would’ve never known in those quilted vests and turtlenecks.

  Feeling her body start to relax, I work my way back down her stomach, my hands still working her breasts to keep her distracted, my lips tasting her sweet skin. It’s so soft, so velvety.

  I get lost in the way she moves under me with each touch of my lips, the little faint sounds coming from her sweet mouth, and the way her hands rifle through my hair, as if she’s unsure how else to handle the thoughts and feelings rushing through her.

  There is no pause in my actions. I flow from her stomach, past her pubic bone, straight to her slick center. This woman—so perfect in my hands, so beautiful. I can’t keep myself from diving in. With my fingers, I spread her lips and dip my tongue. I catch her off guard because she leaps in place, her hands no longer in my hair. I don’t give her much time to think, though, because with my spare hand, I press down on her stomach, giving her no wiggle room while I lap her up and down. God, she tastes so sweet on my tongue.

  Yes, I knew she would taste so fucking good. I could tell she would have the sweetest damn pussy. Her taste spurs me on, along with her cries. I trade between long leisurely strokes to short quick flicks across her nub, that tight bundle of nerves.

  “Oh my gosh. Oh God.” Her hips undulate. “Oh God!” She gets louder.

  Yes. Hearing her makes me so damn hard. Tasting her makes me want to come right here, pants on. I try not to think about what lies ahead because I will lose it.

  “Carter, oh my God. It feels so good. I . . . I, oh God.” Her scream echoes through my empty apartment. Her legs try to clamp around me again, and she squirms beneath me, her orgasm racing through her.

  Watching her fall apart—her mouth open, her eyes closed tight, her hands in fists—fuck, it’s unbelievable. An image I’ll never be able to erase from my mind.

  I don’t give her much time to recuperate, because I want her to feel as relaxed as possible for this next part.

  Standing from the bed, I undo my belt, my eyes intent on hers, and then shuck off my jeans, my erection stretching the crotch of my boxer briefs. Shock registers across Daisy’s face in the most adorable way. Fuck, it makes me want to forget about my underwear and kiss her some more. But there will be time for that; we are running on borrowed time.

  “You sure about this, Snowflake?”

  She nods slowly, staring at my erection. I’m going to take that as a hell yes.

  Giving her a show, I remove my boxer briefs and start stroking myself, only a few pulls though because I’m already on edge from feeling Daisy come on my tongue. In a box on the side of my bed, I find a condom that I quickly put on and then kneel on the bed in front of Daisy. Her skin is burned from my five-o’clock shadow, her lips swollen from my kisses, and her eyes wide with anticipation.

  Taking the head of my cock, wanting to relax her a little bit more, I run it along her already wet slit, making sure to skim her nub. Like expected, her head melts once again into the mattress, her legs relax apart, giving me more access. I take advantage, using my cock as a tease against her sensitive clit.

  Even though I know this feels good for her, and it’s doing exactly what I want it to, it’s fucking torture. So close, but never quite hitting the mark. My dick wants to punch itself from the torture. Just a few more passes. That’s all. Just a few more until . . .

  The tip slides past her hole and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck, so close. Deep breaths. Take it slow.

  Controlled, I ask, “Are you ready, Snowflake? It’s probably going to hurt at first. If it does too much, let me know and we’ll stop, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says, her voice growing nervous again.

  “Promise you will tell me to stop if you want me to.”

  “I promise.”

  I lean down and kiss her, moving my tongue against hers before saying, “Good girl. Now relax, I got you.”

  She takes a deep breath and nods, giving me permission. Gritting down on my teeth, knowing this is going to be torturously good, I draw a few circles around her with the tip of my cock until I enter, one small inch at a time.

  “Oh.” She shifts on the bed.

  “Deep breaths, Snowflake,” I say tensely, her pussy already squeezing the head of my cock.

  Slowly, I move inside her, a wince with each press forward. “Are you okay?”

  With her lips pressed tightly together, she nods. Yeah, she doesn’t seem okay. She needs to relax a little bit more, especially if I’m going to go any deeper.

  Knowing how to get her to calm down, I press my lips against hers seductively, leisurely, opening my mouth and allowing my tongue to do most of the work, never letting her come up for breath. I get lost in her kiss, in the way she isn’t shy about matching the movements of my tongue. I could make out with this woman all day long. All night long. It’s so damn contradicting, knowing her innocent little smile belongs to these sinful lips. And fuck if I don’t feel like the luckiest bastard on earth right now. She’s mine.

  Her tension eases, allowing me more access, my cock slipping farther into her. With one last push, wanting to get it over with, I enter her fully. A gasp pops out of her mouth followed by a wince. Her eyes water and I instantly regret my move.

  “Shit, are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She breathes heavily. “It hurt for a second. I just,” she pauses, “I feel so full.”

  Damn if that doesn’t make me beam with pride.

  “The best kind of full, Snowflake. I’m going to take this slow, okay?”

  She nods. With all the fucking willpower in the world, I move my hips slowly in and out. It’s unbearable, she’s so damn tight, so fucking sexy, and I’m going to come much faster than I want.

  “Oh my gosh, Carter,” she moans.

  Yup, just that little moan has my balls tightening. Not fucking yet. Christ, man.

  I stop moving my hips, my cock throbbing inside her, so I can kiss her some more, which seemed like a good idea until her tongue seeks out mine, tangling and mating like tomorrow’s the end of the world.

  Fuck me.

  Involuntarily, my hips start moving again, the pace slightly faster than before. Shit, I try to slow myself down, but my dick has taken over, my brain losing the battle of wills.

  “Yes, this feels so good.”

  Okay, I’ve got to kick her up to speed with me because in about twenty seconds, I will be coming so fucking hard.

  I move my hand between us and start massaging that perfect little clit of hers, her orgasm from before providing lubrication.

  “What? Oh my God!” Her upper body shoots up off the bed in surprise, only to fall back down. The pillow behind her covers her face, pleasure ripping through her as she screams, my finger doing most of the work, my cock going along for the ride. I know when she comes because her walls clench me so damn tight, I feel like I can’t move in and out of her anymore.

  That’s it. My balls leap up inside me, pure euphoria races through me, causing all limbs to go numb, my sole focus on the pleasure ripping through my cock.

  Blackness encompasses me, the silent moans of Daisy barely registering as I continue to pump over and over again, coming so damn hard I think my dick is going to break off. I don’t moan or scream or really say anything vocal during sex, but with Daisy, I find her name rolling off my tongue as if it’s the most natural thing.

  Still connected, I press my bare chest against hers and cup her face, concerned that in my moment of obscurity, I lost control and hurt her.

  “Are you okay?” I kiss her nose, really hoping I didn’t hurt her.

  Her heady, lustful smile stretches across her beautiful face. “I’m perfect.”

  “You sure?”

  She nods, easing my heart. And then she says, “Um, can we do that tongue thing again?” Her face burns red. So endearing.

  I chuckle and kiss her again, my thumbs rubbing her cheeks. “We can do that tongue thing anytime
you want. Do you know why?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes bright, waiting for an answer.

  “Because, you taste like sweet honey, Snowflake, and I’m fucking addicted.” So. Fucking. Addicted.

  HOLLYN

  Shots were not a good idea.

  Thankfully I didn’t do them, but Amanda, yikes! It took me an hour to get her up to her bedroom and changed, only to have her puke on her clothes. I changed her again, gave her lots of water, made her pee, and then tucked her in bed.

  The only reason I feel comfortable leaving her alone right now and going back to my place is because we ran into her friend Lindsay at the bar who joined us in celebration. The plan was for Daisy to stay with her, but that idea was nixed when Carter swept in out of nowhere and stole her away. Amanda is a hopeless romantic like Daisy, so she didn’t care. I also think Amanda had no idea what was going on, because when we were at the bar she kept talking about how Daisy was in the bathroom for so long and maybe we should check on her intestines. Somehow she got in her head that Daisy was having some intestinal issue. I let it ride. I was too tired to correct her.

  Either way, I’m dragging my dead body up the stairs of my apartment, digging through my purse for my keys.

  “Hey.”

  “Jesus.” I jump from the sound of a familiar male voice. Gripping my heart, I take in Jace, who’s sitting on the steps in front of my apartment. “What are you doing here?”

  Not saying a word, he stands and pulls me up to the landing where he cups the back of my neck and pulls me in for a searing, mind-blowing kiss, a kiss so powerful, I drop the keys from my hand and mold my body into his.

  Just as I’m getting settled into this new comfort, forgetting everything I previously said to him, he steps back from me, leaving me feeling empty, lost.

  Touching my lips, I look up at his strong features hidden under his baseball hat. By the determination in his eyes, I can tell he isn’t going to make it easy on me to keep denying him.

  “I needed that,” he huffs, lifting his hat quickly to run his hand through his hair. When his hat is settled again, he says, “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

  “I was at a bachelorette party.”

  “Hollyn, I swear to God, do not fucking lie to me right now. I’m not in the mood.” He lifts his hat again and that’s when I catch a glimpse of the bruising under his eye.

  “Do you have a black eye?” I step closer to examine his face.

  “Yeah, doesn’t matter. I want to know what’s running through that pretty, yet frustrating head of yours.”

  I step even closer and stand on my toes to reach his eye. My thumb strokes the bruising and he winces from the soft touch.

  “What happened, Jace?”

  Sensing my determination to change the subject, he capitulates with a sigh. “Ethan got in my face today in the locker room, said some stuff I didn’t appreciate, and we got into it. Coach fined me, Ethan got stitches, and it’s over. Now tell me why you’re ignoring me.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Christ, Hollyn.” Frustration rolls through him with every clench of his jaw. “I don’t care what happened earlier, what I care about is you. Let me ask you something, do you care about me?”

  “Of course,” I say, acutely aware of my pinched brow. How could I not care about him?

  “Then stop avoiding the question; what is going on? Are you scared? Are you regretting what we did? Are you thinking I’m not the kind of guy you want to hang out with? Because excuse me for being fucking paranoid, but it seemed like we were really clicking, we were able to lean on each other, until we had sex.” He looks around my hallway and notices the close proximity of my neighbors’ doors. “Can we do this inside please?”

  Inside. He’s never been inside my place. He’s come here to pick me up a time or two, but never inside. Inviting him inside, into my world, now that’s terrifying. Beyond the threshold is a world of haunting memories from the pictures on the wall, to the clothes in the closet, to the sports memorabilia placed appropriately around the apartment. It’s a deep reminder of everything Eric, and I don’t know if I want Jace to see it. I’m not quite ready.

  “Actually, want to grab a drink? There is a bar right around the corner we can go to. Do you mind driving?”

  “Don’t want me to see your place yet?” he asks, seeing right through me. “That’s okay, we can just talk in my car. This won’t take long.”

  This won’t take long? What does that mean? I don’t get much time to think about it as Jace guides me down the stairs and straight to his vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for me, and while I wait for him to walk around to his side, I fidget in my seat, a quiver in my stomach of what’s to come.

  The door slams shut behind him and instead of turning to me, he rests his elbow on the side of his door and looks out the front window.

  “Last year was one of the best years of my life,” he starts, his voice low, gruff. “I finally made it to the majors. I had no one to share it with, but hell, I was damn proud of myself. Not just because I killed the season, but because I’d faced adversity to get to where I was. I overcame challenge after challenge. As a foster kid, despite being placed with fairly decent families, I didn’t have parents to buy me the latest and greatest equipment, nor did I have a dad to practice with me in the backyard. I had a brick wall, a glove from the thrift store, and one baseball. But it was my life, my dream. I didn’t give up because I wanted something better for myself. I wanted to pull myself out of the dark, and make something for my life.” He turns to me, the scruff on his jaw making him look menacing in the moonlight. “Don’t you want that, Hollyn? Don’t you want something better for yourself?”

  Tears well up in my eyes. I really do want something better. I want to be able to walk down the street and not be reminded of all the times Eric and I took strolls late at night. I want to be able to watch a sports game without needing to crawl into a fetal position, and I want to be able to fall asleep without having to listen to Eric’s voice.

  But I don’t know how to get there. I feel like I’ve made leaps toward living, but there is still a roadblock in my way, stopping me from finally making that last push.

  Fear.

  I’m terrified to let go and not have memories of Eric in my mind anymore. I don’t want to forget him because he’s a part of me.

  “I want more, Jace. But losing him, it was so heartbreaking.” I take a deep breath. “You would have liked him. You would have been friends. He was my life: vivacious, instilled confidence in me, and one of the most selfless men I’ve ever known. He became my best friend overnight, but we fit as if we’d known each other our whole lives. I’m terrified I’ll forget all of that, that I’ll forget the memories of what we shared. That I’ll forget him. I’m so scared I’ll forget him.

  “And that night, our night, you and me,” I sigh, reaching deep down to find a way to communicate my feelings, “that night was perfect. From the way you caressed me, to the raw need we had for each other, to the way you held me after. It was everything I could have ever asked for, and yet, I left feeling so damn guilty. Do I have the right to feel like that with another man?” Tears stream down my face. “My life has been silent for so long and then you came along and brought music, lightness, and a brief glimpse of happiness into it.”

  His hand links with mine, his broad body now turned toward me. “It’s going to take time, Hollyn. It’s understandable to feel guilty. It’s not like you chose to end your relationship with Eric, it was taken away from you. But the memories you have with and of him are his legacy, his gift to you. It’s not an easy task to move on from such a loss. But you are allowed to be happy again. You are allowed to move on.”

  “I want to move on.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see him nod. “Then move on with me, Hollyn. Fast or slow, I don’t care. Just don’t cut me out. Let me be there for you. With you.”

  Finally giving him my attention, I see the compa
ssion, the sincerity in his face and I wonder, is Jace a gift from Eric? Did he send Jace along to help me move on? From that viewpoint, it seems that way. Or am I just reaching for some type of justification to pursue something with Jace? I don’t want to be alone forever. He is the only one who has somehow breached my wall of grief, the only one who has reached me. I do want him, more than I ever thought possible.

  “I want you there for me, Jace. I do.”

  “Good.” He squeezes my hand. “We have a game coming up, a preseason game. Do you think you would want to fly down and watch it? I could hook you up with some good tickets.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “It would mean a lot to me if you were there, especially with all this Rebecca bullshit.”

  A game. The last time I went to a baseball game was with Eric. Beer, pretzels, cheesy singing to classic ballpark songs, it was one of our favorite pastimes. Going to a game without him, can I do that?

  “Hollyn, where did you go?”

  Pulling me from my reverie, I wipe my tears. “I’m sorry, going to sporting events was something Eric and I cherished. I haven’t been to one since.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.” He pauses and then says, “I know it won’t be easy, but maybe you could take a chapter out of Dear Life. Face your fears. Make the leap, Hollyn. One more steppingstone toward proving your existence.”

  There’s that word again; fear. It’s always clogging up our lives, putting us at a standstill until we’re able to finally push through and prevail. Maybe this is the time for me to push.

  Taking a deep breath, my stomach doing nervous somersaults, I say, “Okay, I’ll go.”

  A bit shocked, Jace sits up. “You’ll go? Seriously?” I nod my head, a small smile gracing my lips. “Well, fuck, babe. I wasn’t expecting that.” He chuckles. “Shit, I’m proud of you.”

  I’m proud of you.

  Four little words coming from a strong and loving man carry so much weight. The nerves rushing through me settle with those four little words.

  He’s proud of me. Hell, I’m proud of myself.

  Please God, please let me be able to handle it. I so desperately want to make the most of this opportunity.