Let Love Heal l-3

by Melissa Collins

  I mentally lack the capacity to say what those words do to me. Honestly, I just never thought I would ever hear them. Wrapped in the strength of his warm embrace, I know I’ll do everything within my power to hear them again and again and again.

  As I push the curve of my ass into his groin, I tell him, “I want you too, so much.” A grumble of pure male satisfaction vibrates against my back. It makes my heart melt, and my knees weaken for that matter, to know that I can share this part of me with him. To be honest, I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m with Bryan. I’m not different or better or skinnier or anything like that. I don’t have to be the perfect version of myself that I present to everyone else. I’m just me, and what’s really crazy is that when I’m with him, I’m happy about who I am.

  Without much grace, Bryan and I stumble over to the couch. His hands race across my body with need as his mouth devours mine with a hunger I’ve never felt before. He’s not simply kissing me; he’s trying to become a part of me. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his mouth closer to mine, if it’s even possible, and kiss him back with all of the need and emotion I can muster.

  When his thumb traces over my hardened nipple over my shirt, my entire body shudders in delight. He feels it. He plays my body like an instrument, each stroke deliberate and beautiful. “Bryan … I … I …” I don’t know what it is that I want. I know I just want him. It’s as if his name has become a part of my lips, of my heart.

  “What, Melanie? Tell me what you want and I’ll do it for you. You should know that by now.” The words fall from his beautiful mouth and I can feel the truth behind them. I can see the sincerity in his eyes. He would do anything for me, but right now, it’s going to be about what I want to do for him.

  Bryan is taken by surprise when I push up from underneath him and switch positions. Straddling his hips, with his hands spanning my waist, I dispose of my top and bra. I push his shirt up to expose his chest and crush my body to his. Basking in the feel of his skin on mine, I torture his neck with soft, wet kisses. The feel of his body writhing beneath mine is sexy as hell, and if I’m being honest, it’s a strange sense of empowerment too.

  When he wraps his arms around my waist and sits up with me in his lap, I pull his shirt up and over his head. Gently, I push him back so that, once again, he’s lying down. I continue on my mission of kissing his neck, across his collarbone, down the solid muscles of his chest, into the valleys and ridges of his sculpted abs. I shimmy down the rest of the way and settle in between his legs. I trace my pointer finger down the line of hair that descends beneath his jeans before unsnapping them. As I pull the zipper down, I can feel him bulge and pulse beneath my fingers and it makes me want him even more.

  Bryan arches his hips and I take the opportunity to rid him of his pants and boxers entirely. Staring down at his beautiful and completely naked body sends a jolt of pleasure in between my thighs. Tentatively, I touch him, afraid somehow that I’ll hurt him, or do it the wrong way. But, the second my shaking fingers wrap around him, he pushes his hips up and grinds himself into my hand. “Ahhh, fuck. Melanie …” His words trail off to the slow rhythm of my hand gliding over his heated skin.

  Emboldened by the fact that I am so clearly affecting him, I begin kissing his stomach, licking that sexy-as-sin V muscle as I caress him. An overwhelming urge to taste him, to give him the pleasure I know he’s seeking, consumes me.

  When I move my hand away from him, I hear a soft breath pass through his lips. My tongue darts out and softly licks a path from root to tip. His neck arches; his stomach flexes; his chest rises and falls rapidly with ragged breaths.

  Licking the same path a few more times has him moaning my name and breathing heavily as if he can’t get enough oxygen to his lungs. I wrap my lips around him and take as much of his length as I can into my throat. Bryan sweeps my hair to the side as he gently cups the back of my head. There’s no force or anything like that. Just a loving reverence as he guides my mouth up and down. “Melanie … your mouth … so fucking perfect …”

  When I feel his motion get more frantic and less rhythmic, I give him one last lick and stand next to the couch. I’ve got something that I hope will be even more perfect than my mouth. I step out of the rest of my clothes and pull the condom out of the back pocket of his jeans.

  As I tear the foil wrapper of the condom with my teeth, Bryan rolls to his side and supports his body on his elbow. With his other hand, he softly traces a line from between my breasts, down my stomach, which flexes under his touch. When he plunges two fingers into my core, his name falls from lips without warning. Rocking back and forth on his fingers drives me crazy. “Bryan, I need you to be inside of me now. Please, baby.”

  As he continues the beautifully relentless motion of his fingers, he grumbles, “And I want nothing more than to be buried inside of you.” With those words, he stops his masterful torture and takes the condom from my hands. After he rolls it down, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto him, but only a little bit.

  “Go slow, baby. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers as he helps guide me inch-by-inch. When my legs are shaking and I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I slam my hips down onto his and take his entire length inside of me.

  “Oh God, Bryan … you feel …” I don’t know the word to end that sentence. I just know that I’ve never felt like this before – so full, so connected, so in love.

  “I know, baby. You do too.” And then his lips crash into mine as he pulls my face down to his. His arms wrap around my waist once again as he takes control of our motion – pushing up into me and pulling me down onto him.

  His tongue plunges in my mouth as his fingers tangle in my hair. Our chests are pushed together and the friction of my nipples rubbing up against the light dusting of hair scattered across his chest sends a gush of wetness to my core. When he angles his hips forward, hitting that sweet spot deep within, I lose control.

  Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss races through my veins and my body moves on its own accord. It thrashes wildly, yet still remains in perfect sync with Bryan’s motions. He reaches his hand in between our joined hips and begins rubbing my clit, matching the frenzied and frantic pace of his thrusts.

  “Bryan … Bryan …” His name falls from my lips as I fall beautifully over the edge of bliss. “Melanie … I can feel you … oh God …” And on one final thrust deep inside of me, he calls out my name and shudders with our joined release.

  When the adrenaline fades away and our lungs calm, I move to get off of him. Instead of letting me go, he just pulls me closer and begins combing his fingers lightly through my hair. “Can we just stay like this for a bit?” he asks quietly.

  I place my hand over his heart and press my lips lightly to his chest. “Of course we can.” He offers no response. Instead, he just squeezes me tightly and kisses the top of my head, which is tucked securely under his chin.

  Somewhere in between being fully asleep and still awake, I hear Bryan’s voice filter into my consciousness. The velvet timbre of his rich voice lulls me to sleep further. Through my slumber-induced haze, I don’t even realize that I’m no longer lying on top of him and that he’s sliding his arms under my knees and shoulders. Instinctually, I wrap my arms around his neck for support and nuzzle into his chest. The last thing I feel before he places me on my bed and pulls me into his arms once again, are his lips tenderly pressing against my temple as he wishes me sweet dreams.

  9

  “Hey, baby. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well last night?” Bryan asks cheerfully as I greet him at my door.

  “I’m better. I guess I just needed some rest,” I answer lamely as I pull my heavy winter jacket on. Closing the door to my suite behind us, we walk out into the brisk air and make our way across the quad to class.

  When we get into the science building, he leans down and kisses my forehead as if he’s checking for a fever. He won’t feel anything, though. I wasn’t really sick this past weekend. I just nee
ded a break from the guilt-ridden feelings. I told him I had some kind of flu and just hid out in my room all weekend. Of course, being the caring man that he is, he insisted on coming over to take care of me. After more than a few reassurances that I would be just fine, he relented and let me get my rest.

  It helped that Peyton was rarely in the room. Between researching for her thesis and working in the writing lab, she was gone practically the entire weekend. Of course Cammie and Lia were concerned and brought me chicken noodle soup and ginger ale. That didn’t do much to abate my guilt. It just transferred it.

  As we make our way up to the third floor, in what feels to me like an uncomfortable silence, Bryan pulls me close to his side, and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little off this past week.”

  I smile up at him brightly and say, “Yeah, I’m good. I promise.” The alternative would be a lot less pretty and all too real. So, instead of being real, I plaster on a smile and walk the rest of the way to class.

  When we arrive outside of my biology lab, Bryan stands in front of me and laces our fingers together, holding our hands in between us. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again and it’s starting to piss me off. Him caring isn’t the problem, though. The fact that he knows me well enough to know that something is bothering me is what’s getting under my skin. It just makes me feel even worse about everything.

  Biting back my anger and guilt, I wrap my puffy coat-covered arms around his waist and hug him as tightly as our bulky winter clothing will allow me to. Angling my head up so that I can look into his eyes, I try my best to reassure him. “Really, Bryan. I’m good. I guess I’m still just a little tired, but I’m fine. I promise.”

  Burying his nose into my hair, he sighs. He doesn’t believe me; I know it. Luckily, a few other students come up to the doorway, and I know I only have a few minutes left before class starts.

  He pulls us to the side of the door and takes a step back. Scanning my face for some hidden answer, one that I hope he won’t find, he asks “So then can I see you tonight?”

  The professor chooses this moment to walk past us and he makes a concerted effort to clear his throat as he does, clearly indicating that I need to get myself in the room as soon as possible. “Sure. I mean, let me see. I have two tests this week and a paper due on Wednesday. I’ll call you later.” I kiss him quickly and slide past him and into the classroom.

  Sinking into my seat as the professor closes the door on Bryan’s utterly confused face, I know that I can’t avoid him forever. I just have to figure out a way to be with him without getting sick to my stomach.

  * * *

  I’ve managed to avoid Bryan all week. I don’t know if that’s necessarily something I’m proud of, but it’s something I’ve done nonetheless. The overwhelming need to talk to someone about all of this gets the best of me. Plopping down on my bed after a grueling test, I dial Maddy, hoping that she’s not too busy for me.

  Just when I’m about ready to hang up, she answers the call. “Hey, Mel. Give me one sec.” Maddy’s all out of breath and I hear her curse as her keys and phone clunk to the ground. My heart lightens a bit when I hear Maddy say, “Shit, shit, shit.”

  After a few more seconds of shuffling, I register the crinkling sounds of plastic shopping bags as Maddy’s voice comes back on the line. “Sorry, Mel. I was just carrying some groceries in. Stupid phone slipped right out of my hands. What’s up, girl?”

  “Look at you being all domesticated. If you tell me that you’re cooking, I’m going to have to suggest a mental health evaluation.” I laugh softly at the image of Maddy trying to make anything more than cereal.

  “Oh, just shush, would you? So how’s everything going?” I can’t tell she’s trying to tip-toe around the question she really wants to ask. I’ve been avoiding talking to her, just like I’ve been avoiding talking to Bryan.

  “Ehh. They’re going. Classes are okay. Oh and get this. I got a new roomie,” I start nervously, twisting my hair around my fingers.

  “No shit! What’s she like?” I hear a bag crinkle in the background as cupboards clap opened and closed.

  And the distraction works for a few minutes as we get lost in meaningless conversation about biology tests and new roommates, but when a stilted silence stretches for a few seconds, I know that Maddy is just trying to carefully select her words to ask about Bryan.

  In a rushed huff of words, I answer her unasked question. “I still haven’t told Bryan.” I flop back on the bed and cross my forearm over my head.

  “Oh no, Mel. Why not? I thought you were going to tell him.” Maddy’s words ring through the line with concern and not an ounce of judgment.

  “I know. I know. I just … ughhh. It’s so complicated. Maddy, I just don’t know what to do.” Guilty emotion coats my throat as I try to get the words out.

  “So why don’t you try explaining it all to me. We didn’t really get to talk about it too much over break, but I’m here for you and I want to help you figure everything out.” She’s told me this before, but I always feel like such a burden dumping my problems on her. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.

  “Maddy, we could be here for hours, though. Don’t you have dinner to make or something like that?” I can’t deny that part of me wants to talk and part of me wants to avoid this conversation for as long as I can.

  Her loud almost bark-like chuckle bursts through the line and I actually have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Pfft. I can try to make dinner as much as I want. We’ll still end up getting take-out. Besides, we haven’t talked at all since you got back to school.” The pleading tone in her voice forces my will to crack and my voice to falter.

  Tally up one more reminder of my failures. Shitty best friend right here.

  When I still don’t say anything for a few more seconds, Maddy pushes one last time. “Please, Mel. I just want to understand and I want to help you. Please talk.”

  Beyond frustrated and more than ashamed of the situation, I huff into the line. “What is there to say? I was wrong. He told me not to visit him. He didn’t call me. I got a text of him and his ex-girlfriend making out at a party and then I went and fucked up royally by cheating. That about sums it up,” I snap at her even though none of this is her fault.

  Maddy softly gasps. “I didn’t know about any texts. Did you ask him about them?” Surprise laces through her words, but she also sounds a bit hurt that I never shared that with her.

  I sigh as if it will release some of the shame I’m feeling. “No, I just figured I didn’t have a right to ask him about them after what I did.”

  “Is that why you started hanging around with Lindsey and those girls over break?”

  My stomach twists in knots as I recall just how un-Melanie-like I behaved over vacation. “I guess so. I’m not proud of that, though. You know I don’t drink, but I was trying to dull everything, trying to make it all go away.”

  “How’d that work for you?” she quips, but it’s not meant to hurt or jab at me.

  “Fan-fucking-tastic, obviously!” I retort with a feigned snippiness. “Okay, fine. It was a shitty way of coping, but I was just so angry and upset. And then it happened and I felt so guilty. Feeling nothing but a drunken stupor was better than feeling all of that.” I can’t bring myself to share my biggest source of guilt, though. The fact that I was too drunk to remember who I was with or what I did with him is something that I’ll conceal from everyone. Except I guess Bryan at some point.

  “Mel, I wish I could make it better, but you know the only way to make the guilt go away is to talk to Bryan. I mean, could there have been a mix up with the text?” Her casual question causes anxiety to bloom in my chest.

  “A mix up? What do you mean?” I wrap my arm around my stomach as I feel a sickening feeling start to grow.

  “Did you get the text from him or from her?” Oh crap. There’s no stopping Maddy once she goes into her Nancy Drew mode.

  “It was from her.” Timid words slip past my li
ps. I can see where she’s going with this. Of course, when I initially got the text, I didn’t even pay attention to the number that it came from. I saw the picture and reacted. I know there’s a lesson here about hindsight being 20/20 and all that, but all I feel right now is overwhelming dread.

  “And did he happen to mention why he didn’t want you to come visit?” Maddy’s fitting together the pieces of the puzzle.

  “Yes, he did.” I choose not to tell her the reasons just yet. My conscience can only handle so much right now.

  “Then you have to talk to him about it. I seriously doubt he even knows about the text. You know what a bitch Courtney was to you last semester. And if he had legitimate reasons for being distant, then you have to give him the benefit of the doubt.” Damn her and her level-headedness.

  I shift and straighten my back up against the wall next to my bed. “I hate when you’re right.” I can just picture the smirk creep across her face at my admission.

  “I know, but really, sweetie, I just want you to be happy. I don’t care about who is right or wrong.” My belly flips again just thinking about Maddy’s kind, green eyes crinkling with concern as she speaks those words.

  I release a shuddery breath and try, in vain, to dismiss the heavy conversation. “Okay, okay. Enough about me. Tell me how things are going with you guys? How’s the baby doing? What’s Reid’s job like? How is it living with a boy?” Teasingly, I stretch out the word “boy” and she giggles at me in return. I ask all of that because I do genuinely want to know, but I also want to feel happy for a bit. And the only way I can think of being happy is by not dealing with my world of crap right now.

  The rest of the conversation is filled with Maddy gushing over her pregnancy, glowing over Reid, and stressing about fitting classes in around her work schedule. Even though I hear the anxiety in her voice from time to time, I can tell that she’s just fine. Everything worked out for them. I just hope it will work out for me.

  Maddy hangs up with me when Reid gets in from work and I feel better having talked to her. Now, I just have to work up the courage to talk to Bryan.