Fall Into Forever

by Beth Hyland

  “Ivy,” I choke, grabbing fistfuls of her hair as I draw her to me as tight as I can. “I—”

  “Shhh. Just kiss me and stop trying to argue.”

  I lift her in my arms and her legs go around my waist, then I carry her up the stairs to my room.

  * * *

  Ivy

  Jon slips into bed, the mattress briefly dipping under his weight. This close to him, alone, here in his bedroom, my heart races out of control. It’s pounding loud enough that I’m certain he can hear it.

  I stare up at the darkened ceiling, surprised I don’t have a headache right now. I figured it was inevitable, given what happened tonight to Maddy. Although I’m tired, I’m headache-free. “Thanks for everything. Coming to get me. Bringing me over here.”

  “Sure,” he says, rubbing my hip. “No problem. I hope you’re not still scared.”

  “I’m not.” I nestle in closer until my body is pressed to his, our contours matching. He feels like a man should feel. Strong, but respectful of those who aren’t. Protective, but not smothering. And capable of so much good. His hand slips over my hip to rest on the bare skin of my belly. His lips are in my hair. I shift slightly and… There. I feel his erection against my butt. A thrill skitters along my spine, then outward to my fingers and toes. Our contours don’t quite match anymore.

  “Ivy, you need to stop moving around.”

  “I’m just trying to get comfortable.” What I really want is for him to slip his hand into my pajama bottoms. A delicious warmth gathers low in my abdomen at the thought.

  “You’ve been through too much. It’s late. You need to get some sleep.”

  It’s like he can read my mind and thinks he needs to put a stop to my desire. I turn in his arms and kiss him. “Jon, I…I want this. With you.”

  He groans, the sound vibrating through his lips against mine. I can tell he wants this as badly as I do. The ache between my legs is almost unbearable. Just when I think I might have to take matters into my own hands, he pushes my pajama bottoms down, runs his hand down my belly, and slips a finger inside me. I gasp in surprise. It’s so sudden. His finger strokes me intimately. I bend my knee to open myself to him and, oh my God, his thumb starts rubbing against me, shooting electricity throughout my body.

  With his free hand, he guides mine to his erection. It’s velvety smooth and hard like a pipe. I stroke it, trying to match the rhythm of his hips. Suddenly, he produces a condom from somewhere and quickly sheaths himself. I know this is a really lame time to be thinking of one’s ex, but Chase used to lie back with his hands behind his head as I put it on him, but toward the end of our relationship he’d get impatient and do it himself. Just another way Jon is different.

  He nudges me onto my back and showers kisses along my neck and collarbone. Then his head dips lower and he takes one of my nipples into his mouth. I suck in a breath and arch into him.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he says, then moves to the other breast.

  I want to ask him why he stopped calling, why he suddenly removed himself from my life, but I’m too caught up in the moment to think about any of that. I’ll ask him later, when we both have clothes on. Right now, this is what I need from him.

  I bend a knee and let my leg fall open. He eases on top of me, careful to keep his weight on his forearms, and pushes my legs even farther apart. “Are you sure, Ivy? Because if you’re not, we can stop.”

  I slide my hands along his muscular back. “Yes, Jon, I’m one hundred percent sure.”

  The warm, broad tip of him rubs my inner thigh, getting closer and closer. And then it’s there. Right at the center of me. He hesitates a moment longer, even in the dark room, I can feel his blue eyes searching mine. I know he’s giving me a chance to change my mind. But I don’t. I can’t. I need him to quell the ache inside me. Rolling his hips, he slowly enters me.

  I bite my lip to keep from crying out, not wanting him to think something’s wrong. He’s heavy and thick, but it doesn’t hurt. Not quite.

  Once he’s all the way in, he stills himself and props up on his elbows, his face inches from mine. “Are you okay?” His brow is furrowed as he gauges my reaction.

  I’m touched by his concern. I have no doubt that if I wanted him to stop, he’d stop. “Um, yeah. I’m… You’re…” God, I can’t even think straight. “It’s perfect.”

  He kisses my neck, right under my earlobe. Goosebumps skitter along my arms and legs. “Good, because you feel awesome to me, too.”

  With long, smooth strokes, he begins to move inside me. Almost instantly, an intensely wicked pressure builds in my lower belly, turning every nerve ending into molten lava. I cling to him, my nails digging into his back. His tempo increases as if he knows exactly the effect his body is having on mine.

  “Are you close?” he asks, not breaking his rhythm.

  How could I not be? “I…I think so. Why?”

  “Because I am, but I want to make sure you go first.”

  Me? First? And before I can think of anything further or utter another word, my inner muscles tighten around him. Without warning, the pressure explodes, shooting into every corner of my body. “Oh my God, Jon!”

  His mouth is on mine, devouring me. With every thrust, every kiss, Jon Priestly consumes me. My body. My soul.

  “Ivy!” he groans, his muscles straining. He shudders. I feel him pulse inside me.

  When he finally collapses on top of me, a thin layer of sweat covers both of us.

  “Wow,” he says breathlessly. “That was incredible.”

  And that’s when I know that I have consumed him, too.

  I stroke his back, feeling every hard muscle. “Same. I can honestly say that I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

  “Mmmm. Good.” His voice rumbles through his chest and into mine. He lifts his head and tenderly kisses my bruised lips. “Because we’re going to do it again in the morning.”

  chapter fifteen

  If darkness is really not darkness at all,

  but rather, the absence of light,

  then my flaws are not really flaws at all,

  but rather, the absence of you.

  ~ Christopher Poindexter

  Jon

  Ivy is still sleeping, her hair spread out in soft waves over my pillow, when I enter the room. I set the two plates of waffles on the desk, stroll to the window, and open the blinds. Cool February sunlight streams through the single-paned glass, frosty with condensation.

  Last night with her was nothing short of amazing. There wasn’t that awkward getting-to know-each-other stage, where you’re trying to figure out what the other person likes. Is this right or too much? Does this hurt or are you okay?

  No matter how I touched her, she responded like a finely tuned instrument under my hands. Just thinking about it now is enough to make me hard all over again. I can feel the front of my sweats tenting outward.

  She stirs under the covers.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say, leaning over her.

  One green eye opens. Then the other. Keeping the sheets over her chest, she pushes herself to a sitting position and looks around, confused. Her hair is sticking up and she’s got sheet marks on the side of her face.

  God, she’s gorgeous.

  When her gaze lands on me, her cheeks redden. I’m guessing she’s remembering what we did last night. “What time is it?”

  “Almost eleven.”

  “Eleven? That late?” Her voice, raspy and low, is so damn sexy.

  Let’s see if I can make her blush again. “Must’ve been all the awesome sex we had last night.”

  Yep. It worked. Two bright spots of color appear on her cheeks. She’s trying not to smile, but she’s not doing a very good job. “Do you see my T-shirt?”

  I look around but don’t see it. I grab one of my old PSU football jerseys and hand it to her instead. “It’s clean.”

  “Thanks.” She pulls it over her head and gets up. It hangs to mid-thigh as she walk
s across the hardwood floor toward the bathroom.

  “Don’t be in there too long or the food will get cold.”

  “I’ll be out in a sec.”

  When she comes out a few minutes later, her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Even without a stitch of makeup, she’s beautiful.

  She tugs the hem of my jersey as she crosses the room. “So you played football?”

  “Yeah, my freshman year.”

  She sits next to me on the bed, and I hand her a plate. “So why aren’t you still on the team?”

  “I was a decent player in high school, but college turned out to be totally different. They wanted me to stay on the practice squad, but I decided it wasn’t worth sacrificing my grades for.”

  “Is that when you started working for the campus radio station?”

  “Yeah. I’ve always loved music, so it was a good fit.”

  She nods thoughtfully, then takes a bite. “Um, these are even better than the Waffle Stop. You made them? They don’t look like they’re from the freezer.”

  “Waffles of Insane Greatness.”

  She laughs. “What?”

  “That’s the name of the recipe. Got it from one of my mom’s old boyfriends, who found it online. That’s about the only thing he was good for, too.”

  She takes another bite. “So, have you heard if they’ve caught the guy who attacked Maddy?”

  “Not yet. When I was downstairs, I called the radio station to see if they had any news. So far, the police don’t have any leads.”

  “I should probably let Cassidy know what’s going on before she hears it from someone else.” She sets down her plate, grabs her phone from the nightstand, and types out a text. “As soon as she sees this, she’ll probably—” The phone vibrates. “—call.”

  Ivy answers and proceeds to tell her roommate what happened in the dorm. At something Cassidy says, Ivy’s gaze flickers to mine. She turns away slightly, but not before I see her cheeks redden again. “Um, Jon’s.” She pauses, bites the inside of her lip. “Yes.” Another pause. Then a little laugh. “Good.” She picks at a loose thread on my football jersey. “I know. Okay, I will.” And then finally, “Talk to you later. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

  “What did she say?” I ask after she hangs up.

  “She’s freaked out, of course. But she’s happy I’m here with you.”

  “She is?” Guilt gnaws at my stomach. I failed to return Ivy’s calls and texts until she stopped trying to get in touch with me. If that’s not the definition of an asshole, I don’t know what is. “I’ve acted pretty shitty these past few weeks. I just want you to know that it’s not you or anything you did, it’s—”

  “Jon, please. I don’t want to hear it. What’s done is done. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? At least for a few more hours? I’m liking the way things are right now.”

  Maybe she’s willing to pretend it didn’t happen, but I can’t.

  “I should’ve called or texted. It’s just that…I was scared things were moving too fast. And I’m not—you’d be—” I notice something gray and fuzzy sticking out of her pillowcase. “What’s that?”

  She glances down and quickly shoves it back inside. “Nothing.”

  “Looks like something to me. What is it?”

  She’s chewing on her lip again. “I’d really rather not say.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll laugh. Or it’ll tick you off.”

  That doesn’t make sense. Maybe it’s funny, but why would it make me angry? “I highly doubt it. Come on. Show me. I promise I won’t laugh. Well, I might laugh, but I won’t be mad.”

  Sheepishly, she reaches into the pillowcase and pulls out a ratty stuffed animal that has clearly seen better days.

  “Did that used to be a…bear?”

  She shakes her head. “A lemur.”

  “That’s a lemur?”

  “Yes. Without any stuffing, it’s hard to tell what he is.”

  “I can see that.” I study her face. “Why would you think it would piss me off? I mean, I think it’s cute that you still sleep with a stuffed animal.”

  “You do?” Her eyes widen.

  “Of course.” Moving the plates aside, I grab her around the waist and pull her close. She smells like soap, toothpaste, and maple syrup. “Why in the hell would that make me mad?”

  She shrugs. “I just knew someone once who was irritated by it. Said it was stupid and childish. So I got into the habit of stuffing it inside my pillowcase whenever he was around.”

  He? “And that’s why you stuffed it in there now, because you thought I’d react the same way.” The air around us suddenly grows quiet. Who in her life would care if she slept with a stuffed animal or not? And then it occurs to me that I know exactly who, even if I don’t know his name. “Is this the same person who hurt you?”

  Her eyes flash up to mine. She looks wary. “Hurt? What do you mean?”

  “I can tell something has happened to you. Sometimes you get panicky, like you’re expecting a certain reaction from me.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. Especially when you feel trapped.”

  She blinks rapidly, refusing to meet my gaze.

  “Ivy, talk to me.”

  Still no answer.

  “Did someone abuse you? Threaten you? Make you feel unsafe?”

  At first I think she’s still not going to answer, until…

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  My protective instincts kick into overdrive and I pull her closer. “Tell me what happened.”

  She buries her face in my shoulder but says nothing.

  “Ivy, please. I want to know why you’re so scared.”

  She places her hand on my chest, right above my heart. It beats a few times before she says anything. “He was popular in high school. I guess you could say we both were. When we started going out our senior year, everyone said we were the perfect couple. Star football player and cheerleader. Homecoming king and queen.” She pauses. “It’s pathetic, I know, but that was my life.”

  “It’s not pathetic, Ivy. I had a screwed-up high school experience, and that’s putting it mildly. I’m glad yours was normal.”

  “Normal is deceiving, though. What looks perfect and normal on the outside can be very dysfunctional on the inside. In my home town, lots of people stick around and marry their high school sweethearts, have kids, and live happily ever after.”

  “And he thought you were destined for the same thing?” I recall the conversation we had about fate and destiny. She seemed pissed off about it at the time.

  She nods. “But when we got to college and I got a glimpse of a bigger, wider world, I began to see Chase for what he was. A selfish, cruel person. I decided I didn’t want to live the rest of my life with someone like that.”

  “So you broke up with him?”

  “I tried to. Several times.”

  “What do you mean, you tried to? You either do or you don’t, right?”

  Her laugh is bitter and harsh. “You didn’t know Chase. He was used to getting his way. And when he didn’t, things got ugly. Fast. The trouble was, no one else saw that side of him. Only me. He’d be charming and funny when we were out in public, but behind closed doors things were much different.”

  “What did he do to you, Ivy?” My tone is ice cold.

  “I…I don’t want to talk about specifics. I can’t.”

  Can’t or won’t? “Did you ever tell anyone what was going on?”

  “A few times, but I’d get told I was blowing things out of proportion. He’s a good guy, they’d say.”

  “Did you tell your parents?”

  “No, not really. I tried once, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  What about the boyfriend who died? The one you loved? Where does he fit in? I want to ask her these questions, but I don’t know how to bring it up. Either that, or I’m afraid of her answer.

  “The guy sounds like a total asshole.” I s
queeze her tighter and kiss the top of her head.

  “One of the times I tried to break up with him, he barricaded me in his apartment for a whole weekend. Without my phone or computer. I had no way of contacting anyone. He finally let me go and told me it was just a joke.”

  “A joke? Locking you up in his apartment was a fucking joke?” I feel like punching my hand through a wall right now.

  “When I threatened to go to his dad, the Lincoln Falls chief of police, Chase just laughed. He said if I told his dad, he wouldn’t believe me anyway, and my mom could get fired.”

  “How is that possible? I don’t get it.”

  “Lincoln Falls is really small. Everyone knows everyone and/or is related. His dad is the police chief and his aunt is my mom’s supervisor. I don’t know if that would’ve happened or not, but I couldn’t take the chance. Money was really tight in our house. Is really tight. We couldn’t afford for my mom to lose her job. And then he said something I’ll never forget. He told me that no one would ever believe me anyway, because he was one of the golden boys. The darling of Lincoln Falls. He could do no wrong. Everyone loved him and would believe his word over mine.”

  “That’s crazy. How is that even possible?”

  She shrugs. “It’s a small town and my family has only lived there for a few years. They still consider us outsiders. His family, though, goes way back. His great-grandfather was the first mayor. So, yeah, they’ll believe a Marquette over anyone else.”

  I can’t take it any longer. I move her off my lap, stand, and start aimlessly pacing the room. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? I know it happened a few years ago, but I have the urge to jump on my bike, hunt him down, and kick his ass. “So what did you do?”

  “I stuck it out until I could figure out what I could do.” She rubs her forehead and grimaces.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I usually get migraines when I think about this stuff, but it’s not as bad as it usually is.”

  “What can I get you? Aspirin? An ice pack?”

  She gives me a weak smile. “Thanks, but I actually take something stronger.”

  I point to her bag. “Where? Is it in there?” I make a move in that direction, but she puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.