Everlasting Love

by M. S. Brannon

  Drake surprised us all with his singing talent. Who knew that boy could carry a tune? I was impressed, and I know everyone else was, too. Give that boy a guitar, and he would have been the classic blues-rock singer. He attributed his talent to the Jack Daniels, but he impressed all of us.

  The thought makes me laugh, but it’s soon cut short when Darcie comes from the back wearing a sexy dress made from … wait … Is that wrapping paper? Holy fucking shit! Her breasts are covered in a makeshift tube top, while her other very female parts are covered in a makeshift skirt. The blue and red paper pops in contrast to her milky white skin.

  I drag my eyes down every inch of her body, noting how fucking hot she looks right now: from the curve of her shoulders and breasts to the iridescent traces of her old scars, and then over her trim stomach and down to her long, lean legs. She looks breathtaking. And this woman is my wife. She’s my fucking wife, and after twelve years of marriage, she is still finding ways to make loving her easy.

  Darcie strolls closer to me and gets up on her tiptoes. Her lips slightly brush mine, but before I can deepen the kiss, she pulls back and whispers, “There’s one more present left to open.” Darcie steps back and opens her arms wide, inviting me to take her. I’d be a fucking dumbass if I didn’t pick up on that.

  I step to her and pull her into my arms. Her skin is warm and feels amazing underneath the pads of my fingers, the very touch sending an electrical current throughout my body, and my being comes alive with excitement.

  Slowly, I raise my hand, dragging my fingers up her arm and over her naked shoulder until the rough texture of her cigar burn scar is under my hand. Like always, I lean down and kiss it. Sometimes, I think, if I kiss her scars enough, they will disappear along with the pain of how they marked her body. However, it’s her scars that remind me of the woman I married.

  She’s tough and will do what she needs to do to survive, thank God. Thank God she kept herself hanging on one more day. And thank God I was running by that house when I did. Now she is my wife—forever.

  His lips brush across my scar and cause me to tingle with anticipation. Reggie has kissed this very spot thousands of times over the years, and the sensation behind it keeps me forever tethered to the wonderful man I love. However, before my thoughts can run away with me, I feel the tickle from his facial hair as he works his way up my neck, finally landing his lips on mine.

  His tongue slowly dips into my mouth, tasting of whiskey. My cheeks are between his palms as Reggie sends me into oblivion with this powerful, sensual kiss. With every stroke from his tongue, my knight claims me. He possesses me. Although I submit to his every will, I will never surrender my love for him.

  I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling on his lower back, getting Reggie as close to me as humanly possible. He could never be close enough in my opinion.

  The crinkle of the wrapping paper sounds in the quiet openness of the bar as my fingers find the end of his shirt. When I squeeze the fabric in my palms then push the cotton up his body, Reggie breaks free from my lips for a mere second to allow his shirt to come off. Then he fastens them right back to mine. The heat of his skin against my cold, half naked body immediately makes me melt.

  My husband is the same man I fell in love with many years ago. From his sexy physique to his giant heart, Reggie is the perfect man. He is always supportive of my opinions, and although we’ve had our rough patches, I would be utterly lost without him. He is my protector, my knight, and my husband.

  Reggie breaks free of our lips, and I get lost in his Caribbean blue eyes. Often times, I wonder if I could truly drown while looking into his eyes as they suck me in and pull me under. They are magnetic, electrifyingly breathtaking.

  Slowly, I brush the pads of my fingers over every contour of his face. His short, grayish-blonde hair pricks my skin as I run my hand along his hair line. Then my fingers dance as they trace over the soft, smooth skin of his forehead. Reggie closes his eyes, leaning slightly into my touch, the look on his face reflecting that he couldn’t live without me. It signifies why Reggie and I are meant to be in each other’s lives, forever.

  I lean forward and kiss the corner of his eye, feeling the faint touch of his eyelash against my lips. My fingers and eyes trail down his face, and then my gaze lands on his lips. They are lips that have sent me into an erotic-filled desire and a blind, furious rage. Lips so soft, so commanding, I will always obey their every direction. I will listen to the words fall out from them, and I will fall weak in the knees from the moment they touch me. Reggie’s lips are my life line to a better existence, and as long as they are touching me and speaking to me, I will strive to live another day.

  His groomed, sandy-blonde beard makes my man look dignified yet edgy. My husband turned forty today, but he makes forty look incredibly fucking sexy. Reggie’s body is flawless, with every inch of his chest and stomach covered in rigid muscles and ink. However, the tattoo over his heart is my favorite: an angel with long, auburn hair flowing across his chest like it’s blowing haphazardly in the wind as well as dazzling green eyes and billowing, soft wings surrounding her as she looks up toward the sky. The angel is me. It’s not the fact that he has me tattooed on his body that makes the picture my favorite, though; it’s the words which surround the angel that make it stand out above the rest.

  She’s the angel of love. My angel of mercy and the source of my strength.

  Unable to subdue my passion for my husband, I push my body even closer as I seal our lips in a kiss. Then, once again, we are lost with every stroke. Reggie moans into my mouth, letting me know he feels the same way I do. We feel the love that saved both our lives so many years ago.

  After I raise my arms and wrap them around his neck, Reggie doesn’t hesitate to pull me up then sets me down on the bar top. Before I can muster another thought, the wrapping paper covering my breasts is being yanked from my body. Knowing what my husband is going to do next, the tearing sound melts my insides. And then his lips are on my nipples, suckling my hardened buds, sending me skyrocketing to the heights of desire in a mere five seconds.

  I throw my head back, making my vision go black as I close my eyes and only feel. The heat is growing in my belly and is soon lighting up my core. Then I explode. The stars blanket my vision as I am thrust into outer space, feeling only the delight Reggie can bestow on me.

  I can hardly breathe as Reggie finishes yanking the wrapping paper from my body. I have yet to open my eyes, but I can hear the rustling sound of him walking on the paper, and then my very naked body is cloaked in warmth as Reggie guides me to lie down on the bar before covering me with his own body.

  “This has been the best birthday, angel. Thank you so very much for making my life worth every breath I take.” Reggie presses his lips to mine, and then he enters my body.

  Nothing will ever feel as good, as safe, as when Reggie is lying on top of me. And, when he enters me, I feel alive every single time. Because of this man, I am alive.

  We have had sex many times at the bar, but it has always been in the back office or the storage room. I’m not sure what the appeal with the storage room is, but it has this aura of lust in the air. It’s not just Reggie and I, but Jake, Drake, and even Jeremy have hooked up in the storage room. If those walls could talk, they’d be a porno movie for sure.

  Tonight, though, we are on the bar, lying across the wood, so very exposed. At any moment, someone could walk in, catching us. The taboo excitement surrounding the thought makes me ignite even more.

  My body feels full as first rests inside then starts to move, erasing my every thought. His massively hard cock strokes the walls of my body, hitting the very spot that will soon be my undoing. As he moves in and out of me, Reggie kisses my lips, cheeks, and neck. The pain of the unforgiving bar top leaves my body as my blood pumps through my veins, and I begin to tingle.

  I wrap my arms around him, clutching as tightly as I can, then do the same with my legs. I hold him tightly as Reggie picks up his movements, d
riving deeper and harder inside of me. I’m losing the battle with my wits, and before I can take a single breath, I explode once again with unimaginable pleasure. My body shivers, and his name passes my lips when I buck up from the hard, wooden bar and into his arms.

  Reggie smoothly sits up, putting each of my legs astride him, and then swings his own legs so they are dangling off the edge. He then leans back, placing his palms on the counter top, and waits as I come to. I flutter my eyes open and look at his happy, magnetic smile.

  He lightly kisses me and says, “It’s my turn, angel.” His eyes motion down to our bodies still attached to one another.

  Submitting to my husband’s every demand, I wrap my legs around his body, wrap my arms around his neck, and give him the love he so rightfully deserves. As I rock my hips back and forth, taking him in deep, Reggie tips his head back slightly and looks into my eyes. We stare each other down, his Caribbean eyes transforming into an ethereal blue heat. Incredibly blue and hot, mimicking the color cerulean that lives at the bottom of a welder’s flame. So blue you’d be scarred indefinitely with one look.

  My inner sex-crazed alter ego takes over as I dominate my man with every movement of my hips. I rock, bounce, and gyrate my way to making him melt over with desire. I suck Reggie’s lower lip in my mouth and lightly bite down on the fleshy skin. His chest rumbles as he growls from this gratifying pain.

  “Fuck,” Reggie releases. “Ride me, angel. Ride me hard.”

  “Your wish is my command, my knight,” I whisper back.

  My hips move faster and harder. I grab ahold of his shoulders, squeezing the muscles swelling by his neck and fuck my husband so very hard. His words are my fuel. I move so quickly and so deeply I can feel my building desire elevate. I control myself as much as I can, knowing I want us to come at the same time.

  Then, like he heard my silent plea, Reggie releases a loud, guttural moan, the deep bass of his voice reverberating through the quiet of the bar. I follow with my own moans of desire.

  Shreds of wrapping paper cover the floor of the bar. I apparently also knocked over the stack of napkins and straws without knowing it.

  Darcie and I struggle to move off the bar top. My wife has out done herself once again. This will go down as one of the best nights of my life. I took a big risk fucking her on the counter of the bar. Granted, the bar is closed, but I’m not entirely certain the front door is locked. Gavin, Big Mike, and Zoe all have keys to the door, and it would have taken them by surprise seeing me nail my very hot wife where we serve drinks.

  While Darcie peels herself off my legs and rolls off the bar, barely landing on her feet, I unpeel my legs from the now sweaty, sticky bar top and start locating my clothes. I pull my boxers and jeans on as Darcie sluggishly walks back to the restroom, returning minutes later with her clothes covering her body.

  I give her a quick kiss and laugh, knowing she is so exhausted she cannot form a single sentence. Yeah, she’s done. When we get home, I will probably have to carry her into the house and put her to bed. I don’t mind; I’ve done it for years. In one way or another, I’ve been tucking Darcie into bed since I’ve known her.

  “I’m going to start the car and get it warmed up. I’ll be right back.” I grab the presents from the other end of the bar and head out the back door. The night air is quite cool for this fall evening. With it being almost two in the morning, the car has a light cover of frost over the windshield.

  Unlocking the car, I pull the driver’s seat forward and set the presents in the back. Then I start the engine and crank the heat. I shut the door and stand outside, simply looking around at my little slice in life.

  I love this place. Other than my family, I am unbelievably proud of the bar and what it’s become. When I bought this old slaughter house, I had no idea I could make it into the success it is today. My bar is one of the most popular places in the county. People travel from all over southern Michigan to come to my little hole in the wall. The thought makes me very grateful.

  At first, when I left my MMA fighting circuit, I was certain I couldn’t enjoy another career. I was so sure what I was meant to do in life was fight. Hell, I’d been fighting in one way or another since the day I was born. Fighting is what I knew, what I was good at. In fact, I was great at it. And I did it all while still caring for my family. Even after my mother died, I managed to keep fighting and training, knowing one day it would pay off in a big way, but then Darcie came crashing into my life, and I knew my fighting life was over.

  I had to care for her. It was impossible to ignore the thought of helping her, never leaving her behind. Therefore, I made the decision to make her a part of our family, and that’s when I decided to buy The Slab.

  Fast forward several years, and it’s a place where many people travel to hang out and have fun. I’ve received many offers from big wigs from the other side of the tracks and out of towners to purchase my little gold mine, but I tell them all the same thing: it’s not for sale.

  From the success of this place, Darcie and I have been able to put away several thousand dollars, pay off the house, and even make some much needed updates. She has a brain for finances, and I trust her completely to handle the books, bills, and everything in between. If I were to sell this place, it would probably be when I’m too old to walk and Darcie is too tired to handle the customers. I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon, though.

  As a gust of wind grazes my face, my skin instantly bumps up with a chill. I look down at my arms and get this sickening feeling in my gut. Something … something doesn’t feel right. Something all of a sudden feels wrong. Very wrong or alarming? I’m not entirely sure, but it has my feet moving, nonetheless.

  I abandon my warming car and quickly walk back inside. Then, just like that, the five year streak of happiness obliterates into tiny pieces as I see my worst nightmare playing out before me.

  My wife is being held at gun point, and Grady McGuire is standing at the other end.

  I manage to make my jelly weak legs move to the back room to put my clothes on. When I come out, I still can’t form a sentence, and this gives Reggie a slight giggle. I only smile and watch him leave as he hauls his gifts to the car.

  The night has been incredible. I couldn’t have asked for a better turn out. We all laughed, drank, and sang as we celebrated my husband’s birthday. He hates surprises, and I was certain he was going to flip out when we all yelled, but the moment I put my hand in his, I felt him relax. I love what my touch does to him. Like me, Reggie melts from the slight skin to skin contact.

  I move around the bar and smile, knowing what we just did on top of it. After I make sure everything is ready for when we open Tuesday, I pull out the bottle of cleaner and start spraying it across the top. The smell of disinfectant is apparent as I run the paper towel over the wood, erasing any evidence of our sexcapade moments ago.

  I look to my feet and see straws, napkins, and wrapping paper all over the floor. Wow, I must have been completely out of it because I don’t remember hearing the clanging of the napkin holder. I giggle to myself when I bend down and pick up the mess underneath my feet.

  When the scraping sound of the front door alerts me, I stand, and it’s then that a ghost from my past is standing in front of me. He looks old, his eyes glazed over and seemingly disconnected. His once movie star good looks are now over-shadowed by the scabbed sores surrounding his lips, cheeks, and forehead. He is nothing except skin and bones, completely wasted away. No definition, nothing.

  It takes me a moment to react because I am completely shocked by his appearance. I haven’t seen him since the night at the races when Jeremy beat the shit out of him. I was eighteen and recently graduated from high school. Twelve years later, Grady looks like a sixty-year-old, sick man. Gaunt and ghostly, he is nothing even close to what he used to be. Well, on the outside, that is.

  Grady moves deeper into the room, and it’s then I see he is holding a gun. My body goes into survival mode as I look around, assessing
my surroundings. The silent alarm button is on the opposite end of the bar, and once it’s pushed, the police will arrive within minutes. Normally, we have more than one person behind the bar, and now I’m kicking myself for not making sure the front door was locked. Reggie doesn’t keep weapons in the bar, because it’s something he’s never needed. All I have to protect me are glass bottles of liquor behind me and my willingness not to die.

  I press my body against the back of the counter that holds the extra bottles of liquor. If I react quickly enough, I can grab a bottle and chuck it at his face before he can even fire a shot. His hand is trembling; how accurate could Grady be?

  “Nice to see you again, baby girl.” Grady’s voice sounds gravelly as he extends his arm then takes a step closer to me. The only thing separating us is the bar. It will be the shield that protects me from Grady’s flying bullets. However, before it gets to that point, I need to distract him enough to make him release the gun.

  “Grady, what are you doing here?” I say in a quiet tone. I need him to trust me just enough so I can get the gun. Then I will beat the shit out of him. Hopefully, I can do this before Reggie comes back into the bar. If he sees any of this, he will snap, and I can’t afford for Reggie to get to that point in his life ever again. Robert was bad enough. I know we won’t survive something like that again.

  “What the hell do you think? I’m here to take your money”—Grady tips his head to the side, like he’s lost in thought for a second—“and revenge.”

  “Revenge? For what?” I am instantly livid. Revenge, really? It should be me seeking the revenge. After all, he tried to rape me and sliced up the skin on my back. He haunted my dreams for a year and made Jeremy finally fall apart, getting him involved in the underworld. “You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that to me!” I snap as I find it impossible to control the volume of my voice.