Be All

by Marie Wathen

  Happy with her comfort and deciding it’s time for a shower, I reluctantly leave her side. Walking into the bathroom, I grab a towel and place it on the counter. Turning the water on full blast, the steam begins rising and I strip naked, slide under the scalding water, and give into my pain.

  Bracing both hands against the wall, I drop my head down allowing the water to penetrate deep into my tight muscles and blend with my tears. The stinging heat soothes my neck and back. I wish I could do the same for my heart. Seeing that fucking shit play out like it did tonight has left its mark. Losing Tristan, NO. I refuse think about that shit.

  Raking my hands down my face, I feel somewhat better after taking my time showering. Two-day stubble on my jaw is scratchy, but I decide that it’s acceptable and forgo the extra steps. Stepping out, I towel off slowly. My mind is on overdrive, still running through the events of the night, but my movements are mechanical. Searching out for something comfortable to wear, I slide into a pair of sweats and walk into my bedroom.

  In the darkness of the midnight hour, the moonlight streaming through the window is bright enough that I don’t need a light on. Reaching the bed, I pause. It’s not the fact that I forgot that Breesan is asleep in my bed that startles me. It’s how perfect it feels to see her lying here.

  Looking across the room at the large chair waiting for me, I shake my head. The right thing to do is sit my ass down in the chair and let her rest alone in the bed. It absolutely would be the right thing to do in my grandparent’s house. It’s just not what I’m going to do. Come morning when she wakes up and sees me in bed with her she could get upset. It is a risk I’m willing to take because I can’t tear myself away from her.

  Lying flat on my back, I drop my head onto the pillow. Being a gentleman, I decide to stay on top of the duvet. Keeping it between us, acting as a barrier is a good idea. I turn my head facing her. Her left hand tucks under her face, her right lies palm up on top of her pillow. She looks content and peaceful. I wish she could stay that way. Maybe the rest she’s getting now will help. The next few days are going to be pure hell. Watching her long enough, I know that what happened tonight is going to fuck her up. If she is the intended target and the shooter got Tristan instead, it will fucking destroy her. She will blame herself.

  Groaning quietly, I rub a hand across my face. Still looking at her, I drop my arm above my head then slide it under using it as a prop. With the back of my free hand, I stroke the side of her face softly. Her breathing increase slightly. Frozen in place, I still my hand. I would be so damn happy to see those intense gray eyes stare back at me, but I don’t want to disturb her. She takes several deep breaths before it regulates out again.

  Rolling on my side I face her, bringing our faces just a few inches apart. I let my hand slither up the bed, place it gently into her palm and stare fondly at our connection. I feel a small squeeze from her. Snapping my gaze up to her eyes, I’m disappointed once again to see them still sealed tight. However, I feel a bit triumphant in the smile she gifts me upon our contact. She responds so well to me.

  I smile proudly. “I know how you feel baby, you do the same damn thing to me and I fucking love it,” I whisper.

  Squeezing her small hand back very gently, I don’t want to wake her. I am so grateful that we got the chance to reveal our feelings for each other before all this bullshit happened. My heart thuds and I can’t escape the pain any longer. Closing my eyes, I feel the burn of tears stinging harshly working to get out. I swallow hard several times and release a ragged breath. I can’t believe that I feel so strongly about her.

  In the shortest amount of time possible she’s gone from being a job, to a distraction, to a desire, and now she’s my world. Someone wants to take her from me. I won’t allow it. There will never be anyone more important to me ever again than Breesan Maxwell. Taking her delicate hand in mine, I twist it then lay my lips against the back. I place several kisses there then gently slide it under my cheek. Nuzzling against her soft flesh, my skin warms and I watch her sleep another moment. Before sleep takes me completely under I whisper, too soft for her to hear, “I love you Breesan.” A second later, I’m dreaming.

  Chapter 25

  Breesan

  How could things go so wrong? I’m so damn confused about everything. My head pounds with a debilitating headache. Everything that happened last night starts out as a blur, but reaching deep in my mind I seek out the horrifying events and bring them clearly to the forefront of my mind. Could I have done anything different to prevent the hell that collided with my world and nearly destroyed my meager existence?

  The day started out as a good day to turn nineteen, marked initially by spending time with Anna. Receiving the exciting news of going off to school with Tristan instead of being alone for four years made it better. It progressed again when I finally defined my relationship with Morgan, agreeing to be friends. Until he kissed me. But deep down I don’t think it means what he may have wanted it to mean.

  Then there is Marcus. His name alone causes me to grin like a silly schoolgirl who just got kissed by her lifelong crush. I’m so caught up in his unparalleled affection for me. He really cares for me unlike anyone before. As much as I try denying it I can’t. Actually I’ve felt it for a while now. The first time we met he did things out of care for me and because he is a good man. Good doesn’t even come close to describing what he is and what we shared-a kiss, an understanding and an acceptance. My heart swells.

  How do I describe what’s happening with my heart because of him? He’s changed everything for me. How did he get in? My defenses were set in place for years, but in a matter of a few weeks he caused every piece to collapse. Easing the pain that I’ve felt all of my life, never knowing what love is like, he makes me want to give up my old life and be all that he needs. Holding my frail heart within his strong grasp, I know he’ll handle it with complete care. It’s irrational for me to feel this way for him so soon but I know, that I know he won’t betray me. He will never intentionally hurt me or leave me feeling unworthy. It’s in his eyes. I’m gifted in reading truthful expressions. He tells me that he feels something equally or stronger than what I feel. If it were anyone else that looked at me the way he does, with love, I would have bolted rather than offering myself to him.

  Without a doubt, my heart knows he is the one. Admitting it to myself is easy. Am I ready for him to know it? I may have wanted that, if the rest of the night would have stayed good. Anna’s gifts, all of them including Wren, made me very happy. Finding out that I have a living relative causes my heart to leap with joy. Soon after, my world flipped on its ass and now I’m reeling from the after effects. I could lose everything now. Tristan. How could someone hurt one of the best people God ever created? It doesn’t add up. I’m not stupid. I know too many of those gunshots were directed at me. Someone was trying to kill me. But was Tristan an accident or was he intentionally shot because of his involvement with me? I want to hold onto hope that everything was random, but I heard some of the things Marcus and the other guys were talking about.

  “Mm mm.” Hearing a deep groan in the silence startles me. My eyelashes flutter and my vision adjusts after a few moments of extreme focusing. I don’t move in fear of the source of the sound. Lying flat on my back I finally steel my nerves enough to chance a look. Without moving my head I notice from my peripheral lying on the bed next to me is a large body. From the deep snoring sounds it’s definitely male.

  In my nervousness, I take a deep breath. Breathing in cinnamon and sandalwood a comfort settles over me, abruptly I know. Marcus. Turning my head slowly, I see his handsome face turned toward me with my hand under his cheek. Did he put it there? Ohgod. If I was asleep I can’t imagine how I could have done something like that. I’ve never slept in the same bed with someone before. I guess it’s possible. Ohgod. This is so embarrassing. Easing onto my side, I face him and ever so slowly I pull on my hand to remove it from under his face.

  He moans and I watch as deep frow
n lines pop up on his forehead. His hand slides up and clamps down on my wrist. I’m trapped. Chewing on the side of my bottom lip, I feel a slight panic begin to rise. Focus. Shutting my eyes, I take a deep breath in and release it, repeating this process many times. My meditation method mixed with his snoring tempo calms me and I open my eyes once again.

  Lifting my head I notice the clock display indicates it is early morning. The sun will be rising soon. With the help of the lingering moonlight, I can see that I am in an unfamiliar room but I can tell that we are still at the Walker estate. I’m in his bedroom. Continuing to scan the room I notice all the personal items and sport memorabilia. I smile at the thought of a younger Marcus here during the summers. While Julia sent me to travel as far away from her as possible, he was growing up in this room. In the darkness, I can still make out a full bookshelf beside a messy desk. It’s comforting to know that he’ not a perfectionist.

  Taking in the large room, inch by inch, my eyes finally return to the man beside me. He rests peaceful. Allowing my gaze to drift from his face downward, I blush noticing his nakedness. Mygod! His body is perfection. I can’t see details but I do notice several tattoos. My mouth begins to water. I shudder, knowing I shouldn’t be in bed with him. Ugh! Just don’t look.

  I focus on his face. His features are so striking. When he’s not sleeping on it, his dark brown, slightly wavy hair stands up in the front about an inch. His brows are the perfect shape to accent his long dark lashes, revealing those tranquil, deep, green eyes. Today his jaw line is covered in stubble, enough to tickle when he kisses me.

  That reminds me of how much has happened since he crossed the family room and stood in front of me, daring me to come close. I threw away my reservations for never feeling in the air and challenged him by stepping closer. He couldn’t stop and I didn’t want him too, and now, confusion. Our feelings are new and I’m not sure what impact everything that happened last night will have on us. Memories of our first kiss and then our confessions cause my heart to falter. Fear of losing what I just found pushes my heart rate up again. Dammit!

  My lifetime fear is loving then losing. Nervously, my eyes jump in some crazy movement scanning his face; memorizing. Why? He’s the reason I can hold on. Unless he decides he doesn’t want me, I’m not letting go of him. I actually care now and it will crush me to go back. Some say I live a sad life. It’s true. By my choice, I did. I feel as though my soul was waiting for him. And now that he’s here, I want to feel it all. I chose life, I chose Marcus.

  “Baby?” He groans with sleep thick in his voice. The sound in the silence startles me again. Squeezing my wrist, his touch, his voice and the name he calls me makes my heart flourish with excitement.

  I smile. “Shhh, go back to sleep.”

  “How are you feeling?” His eyes remain closed, but he pulls my wrist to his lips then firmly presses them to my pulse point.

  The heat from his lips causes my heart rate to spike. Mmm, that’s nice. He lifts his lids, and in the partially lit room, I can see the heat resting in his burning sage colored eyes. Our desire aside, I wonder what our life is going to mean now.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, my uncertainty to his question as well as to my thoughts of us. What happens next between us?

  He nods. “We don’t have to talk. If you want to go back to sleep it’s okay. I just needed to know I wasn’t dreaming.”

  I stretch my entrapped wrist toward his face. He allows the movement. Touching his cheek, I’m awestruck at the delight as he closes his eyes savoring our connection.

  I love it too Marcus.

  “This is real,” I say, meaning my touch, but something more is expressed.

  It has begun. How deep those three words I spoke reach into me is mind blowing. Movement unknown, but a déjà vu of his touch seems to beckon all of me, to and including, flesh and bone, muscle and tissue, past my mind and through my heart. The extent this contact, this relationship attains is my very essence. More than a soul mate, he is part of me. Harmoniously joined, I am finally whole. Being without him again will result in me living half of a life.

  Studying me at length, he searches the depths of my eyes while conveying an utter longing. Does he know that he extents so much further? Could he feel something more too? Finally, taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly before speaking.

  “Breesan, can I kiss you?” He asks softly. His question echoes the fear in his features, dominating his expression. His eyes are dilated. Worry lines mark his beautiful face and his lips are drawn. What could be scaring him? He needs, not just wants to kiss me.

  Love explodes in my chest. Tears fill my eyes as I nod and watch him shift to rest over me. I underestimated how desperately I need love and contact until Marcus hovers over me, piercing me with a forbidden look. Awareness lies in his eyes; he knows the importance of this moment- it’s just for me and us. He’s truly seeing me – the woman who hides, who is lost, flawed and unloved. His dark eyes lock with mine holding so much passion. His breath, warm on my lips elicits a new sensation that moves into my soul.

  He roughly places his hand on the back of my neck, tilting. The action causes my chin to lift upwards which allows him full access to my neck. He navigates his mouth from my chin down my throat around to my ear. Gripping the sheet beneath me, I release a shaky breath. He lightly licks the edge of my ear then blows delicately on the now stimulated area. Sensations crawl along my body generating a moan followed by a needy whimper. I had no idea that I am so wanton.

  His touch controls my body with complete and unadulterated ecstasy. I predict the importance of the union is more than just our first sexual experience. It is precious, crucial and restoring everything I’ve lost, or perhaps we lost. He alleviates a decade of suffering in these moments of delirium. There’s no part in my head and heart that he hasn’t affected. At this moment I crave for Marcus to possess what’s left of me.

  The need for him to kiss me blazes. I’m desperate, but he continues running his tongue along the edge of my ear stopping only to suck and nibble. Biting then he replaces with soft kisses. I whimper again because it is driving me fucking wild. I writhe beneath his lips conveying my desires for him to devour my moans with his mouth.

  Please kiss me.

  “Oh baby I’m going to kiss the hell out of you, but first I need to taste every inch.” His mouth on my ear vibrates all the way to my core.

  FUUUUCCCK!

  “Oh!” I yelp at his boldness. My body ignites with feelings I’ve never experienced. Ohgod

  Moving his body to settle between my legs, I feel a need to move against him. My groans increase encouraging him to push against me. The pleasure and pain of our contact is heavenly. His hand on my shoulder slowly moves down my arm to my elbow. He follows the movement with his eyes and I watch him. This slow torture tickles, but the feeling sends waves of adrenaline through my body. He grabs my elbow and lifts it above my head, guiding my hand to hold the railing on the headboard. Then he drags his hand down retracing his path, under my arm, past my ribs down to my hips. Gripping tight, I briefly loosen my hold, knowing that if he keeps doing this to me I could crack the wooden slat. He uses one knee to spread my legs further. His sliding hand continues down my thigh, stopping to grab behind my knee. Lifting my leg around his waist allows him better access to grind into me.

  Ohgod he feels so good. I need this. He kisses me like he wants to be loved.

  “Marcus. Don’t please – don’t stop.”

  Did I just say that? Releasing the death grip I have on the slat, I place my trembling hands on his arms. Uncertain if it’s what I said, the contact or our actions, he abruptly stops all movement. Whimpering in protest, I grip his arms refusing to let him think I don’t want this. I so desperately do want it. Blinking several times, he slows his breathing and stares into my eyes. It’s a fierce stare. My heart beats wildly now.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I ask. “I can do better. If…if you teach me,” I stammer nervously.

&nb
sp; “Baby, don’t be afraid. I will never hurt you,” he sighs deeply. I nod trying to be brave.

  I don’t want anything to disturb our moment. Everything, every feeling, and every person I denied for so long climaxes at this moment. I’ve been afraid to fall for a man but all my fears are no longer about being hurt but losing. It’s about not experiencing him in every way possible. He fills the void that no other soul’s been able to find.

  “I’m not afraid of you. Marcus, I want this, you, us. I want us.” He grins down at me.

  “Baby, you’ve got me. I just think maybe we are moving too quickly. It’s my fault. I can’t fucking resist you. I never could.” He groans remorsefully.

  Shocked, I snort very unladylike, “Yeah, you did a damn good job resisting for a while.”

  He smirks. “Shit. Hell no I didn’t either. My mind left the moment I laid eyes on you. I was miserable and I pissed off everyone around. I couldn’t sleep and when I did my dreams were constantly filled with a brunette that fought me on everything, I thought was for the best.” He laughs as he rolls off of me. “They were intense dreams. All, except the one where you kicked my ass in the gym.”

  He keeps laughing at this so I push him onto his back. Risking looking foolish, I climb on top of him and straddle his warm abs now. Leaning down close to his face, I stare intently, my mouth a tight line. He chuckles at the move but becomes aware of our new position quickly. I flash a tempting grin at him and wiggle my hips just a little. His eyebrows quirk and his lips stretch into a devilish grin. Finally having the upper hand over him, I moan softly. With both hands, he grabs immediately my hips then shakes his head.