From the Wreckage

by Melissa Collins

  “Remember what I said the other night, about a man not being a man if he doesn’t take care of his woman first?” His question nearly sends me over the edge, my legs shaking beneath him.

  “You don’t have to,” I protest, missing the feel of him in my hand

  “This has nothing to do with what I have to do,” he says against my skin, trailing kisses down to the center of my breasts. “It has everything to do with what I need.” In a frenzy of fingers and kisses, he’s all over me. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he licks over the tightened bud, making me whimper.

  As he moves down my stomach, my fingers lace into his hair. His hands move to my breasts, pulling and twisting on my nipples as his mouth moves along the inside of my thighs. His hot breath cascades over my skin as his thumb strokes along the seam of my wet flesh. A cry of pleasure falls from my lips as his tongue moves against me. “You’re dripping, baby. My god, so fucking perfect.” His words fall against me, but his tongue stops. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, keeping his tongue and lips away from where I need them the most.

  “You,” I whine, rolling my hips into his face. Damn him for making me this needy, for doing this to me and then pulling away.

  “Not good enough,” he snickers, nipping at the soft skin of my inner thigh. “Tell me exactly what you want and you’ll get it, but I need to hear you say it.”

  “David,” I beg. “Please. I want you. Can’t you tell?”

  “So then tell me,” he taunts. “Just say the words, baby.”

  Channeling every ounce of my desire into my words, I let them fall from my lips as if they’re the last ones I’ll ever say. “Make me come. Please. I want more of your mouth on me. Your fingers in me. My clit. God, please. I need to feel you, David.”

  “Here.” He moves his tongue to my clit, circling it lazily.

  “Yes, oh, God, yes.” Shamelessly, I grind my hips up into his face. “More please. I need you.”

  As if he’s reached the last reserves of his control, he moves his tongue in a frenzy over my clit, stopping only to plunge it into my pussy. With insatiable hunger, he laps up my need, transforming it and morphing it with his own. With every drop of me he consumes, he only becomes hungrier, needing more and more.

  My insides clench, needing something to clamp down on. “Your fingers. Oh, God, please. Use your fingers.” Our eyes meet over the writhing motion of my hips. Without blinking, he licks at my clit in a perfect rhythm of passion as he pushes his finger into me. “Ahh. Oh, God. Yes.” Adding another, he plunges into and pulls out of me, never moving his mouth.

  Fire races across my skin. A kaleidoscope of bright colors flashes behind my tightly closed eyes. And then it all stops. “Eyes on me, baby. Watch me make you come. Watch me take you over the edge. Let me watch you fall.”

  And then he pushes me to the brink again. His mouth, his fingers, his words, they’re all too much to hold in. Cresting, the wave of my orgasm crashes over me, pulling me into the deepest recesses of passion. His fingers curl inside me, drawing another surge of pleasure out of my body. Boneless and replete, I don’t even notice him moving to lie at my side. With his fingers lazily moving in me, he lets me come down from my high. Kissing my neck, and nuzzling against me, he whispers, “Beautiful. Everything about the way you come is beautiful and I can’t wait to do it again and again and again.”

  Fumbling under the pillow, he pulls out the condom. We shift so that we’re both facing each other on our sides. “And now it’s time to take care of you,” I murmur, moving my lips against his chest.

  He pushes into my hand, the drops of moisture making him glide effortlessly in my palm. Making a move to push him on his back, he stops me. “If you do any more than what you’re already doing, I’ll embarrass myself.” Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he pulls it from the wrapper. “Let me make love to you now so I don’t look like a fool, coming in your hand in a matter of seconds.”

  Nodding at his request, I take the condom from him. Rolling it over his length, my need amplifies. Knowing that he’ll be inside me, pulling me into oblivion with him renders me speechless.

  Looming over me, he kneels between my legs, his sheathed cock bobbing under its own weight. He lowers himself to his elbows, resting one on each side of my head. “I’ve lost myself to the fantasy of having you so many times, I started to believe it would never actually happen. And now that we’re here, with you beneath me, I feel like if I close my eyes, it’ll all vanish. Like this is some kind of dream and if I blink, it’ll all be over.”

  “It’s not,” I promise, cradling his jaw in my hand. “I’m right here with you. Feel me. Take me. I’m yours.” Leaning forward, he pushes into me, filling me. “Oh, hell,” I cry out. “My God. David,” I cry his name.

  Rocking back and forth, he works into me, inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I’m shaking as my orgasm rushes into me. Clawing at his back, I thrust up onto him. “I’m gonna come again. My God. David, I’m coming.”

  “Come on me, baby,” he coos into my ear. “Take what you need from me.” Lost to the rhythm of my hips, I come wildly, unable to control anything. The waves of pleasure never subside, as he continues to move through them. Plunging into me, he holds me in his arms. There’s no space between us, no room for anything but our desire.

  Angling back slightly, he pulls my nipple into his mouth. Arching into his lips, he smiles around my skin. Moving a hand down my stomach and further still, he circles my clit with his fingers. “I can’t. Oh God, David, please. I can’t. It’s too much.”

  Despite my begging, he doesn’t stop. And it is too much, but in the most perfect way. He pushes further and further into me, hitting that spot deep inside that makes me writhe under him. My nipple in his mouth. His fingers on my clit.

  “Come again, baby. I need you to come one more time. Please,” he begs, letting my nipple fall from his mouth. And I fall beautifully, over the precipice into some deep abyss from which I never want to be rescued.

  “Perfect, baby,” he groans, burying his face into my neck. “So goddamn perfect.”

  His movements become more erratic, less fluid. He swells, pulsating against my still spasming core. “Grace.” He groans, rocking into me hard. “Oh, fuck, baby. I can’t . . .”

  “Then don’t,” I murmur into his ear. “Fall with me.”

  And he does, in a wildly passionate flash of need. On a final plunge, he calls out my name and falls on top of me, capturing me in his strong arms. Before I can even catch my breath, he’s rolling over, away from me. Barely able to open my eyes, I can only assume he’s taking care of the condom.

  The bed shifts under his weight. His body curls around mine, covering me in his sweet warmth. Then there’s a blanket over us. I’m wrapped in his strong arms and the soft fabric of a quilt. “Sleep, baby.” He kisses my temple, trailing his fingers down my spine. Drifting off, all I remember are his softly whispered words dancing against my skin, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  “You’re fidgeting. Nervous?” Grace threads her fingers through mine as we wait on the train platform.

  Scanning the approaching track for the millionth time, I lie, “No. Not at all. What would make you think I’m nervous?”

  “Mainly that if I let go of this hand,”—she holds up our joined hands, leveling me with a playfully hard stare—“you’d bite this nail until there was nothing left.” Keeping up her mock stern face, she quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say something.

  Pulling us to the bench, we sit, our hands still laced together. “I’ve never done this before,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on hers. Her face contorts in confusion and whether it’s because her coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, or it’s already closing in on ninety degrees at nine in the morning, she’s not picking up what I’m trying to say.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that.” Patting the top of my hand, she laughs at me.

  “This,” I huff. “Mee
ting the parents.”

  Her laughter continues through my words. “Really? You already know them. Why would you be nervous?”

  “The last time I saw them was eighteen years ago. And you weren’t my girlfriend and we weren’t sleeping together.” Abruptly, I stand from the bench as the train approaches the platform.

  “Just don’t lead with ‘I screwed your daughter six ways to Sunday this past weekend and twice last night’ and you should make a fine impression.” Stretching up on her toes, she kisses my cheek as the train comes to a stop.

  Great. Thirty seconds away from meeting her parents and all I can think about is how I had Grace bent over the edge of my couch last night.

  Shaking away those thoughts as best as I can, I stand beside Grace as we wait for her parents to step off the train. Grace figured it would be easier for them to take the train out to Long Island rather than into Manhattan and then out here. At least that’s what she told them. Mostly it had to do with her not wanting to leave my apartment to meet her parents in the city.

  “There they are!” Grace squeals at my side, jumping up and down. As her parents approach, she runs to them, wrapping her arms around both at the same time. Walking up behind her, I catch the tail end of her telling her father to be nice to me.

  Fantastic!

  “Mom, Dad, you remember David.” Extending her hand, she pulls me to her side. “David, my parents.” For someone who just told her father to play nice, she’s being awfully calm.

  “Mr. and Mrs. McCann. It’s so nice to see you again,” I greet them, keeping my voice as confident as possible. Extending my hand to Mrs. McCann, she looks down at it as if it’s some foreign object.

  Pushing it to the side, Mrs. McCann wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. “It really is you,” she says as she pulls away. “When Gracie told me she was seeing you, part of me just didn’t believe it. But here you are. And please, call me Meredith. None of this Mrs. McCann stuff. Isn’t that right, Walt?” Turning to her husband, she’s met with a warm smile.

  “I didn’t believe it either,” he says as he pumps my hand. “I mean what are the chances?”

  “Some things are just meant to work out how they work out,” Grace chimes in.

  “Exactly,” Meredith responds. “Now, let’s get a move on. We have an apartment to hunt for.”

  Three hours later, we’re at our final stop of the day. Wanting to live close to her new school district, but not within it, Grace kept her list of potential apartments to the towns surrounding Commack. The first two we see are absolute dumps, and Walter and I bond over making a laundry list of damages that would need to be repaired before she even stepped foot into the place.

  As we pull into the lot of the final stop, it’s clear to see this complex is well-maintained. The grounds are freshly mowed and actually green—not the mix of browns and beiges like the last place. There are brightly colored flowers planted all over. I can see it in Grace’s eyes—she’s already in love with it.

  The complex manager, Danny, greets us outside his office and guides us through the rental. “This is an end unit, so there’s a bit more room in this one than the others,” he explains as he opens the door.

  “Holy closets!” Grace calls out as she steps in the entryway. “This is huge!”

  “And it’s only the coat closet. Wait till you see the ones in the bedrooms.” Stepping through the entryway, Danny explains how each unit comes equipped with its own alarm.

  “That’s connected to the smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, right?” I ask, wanting to make sure all of the bases are covered.

  “Yes, sir,” he answers, giving us a few more details about the system. Walter listens on with me, seemingly proud that I’ve been on top of all the safety features of the apartments we’ve seen so far. I’m not doing it to impress him—well, not entirely. It’s just part of who I am. Besides, I’d do pretty much anything to keep Grace out of harm’s way. This is just one small thing I can do to make sure that she’s as safe as possible when I’m not around.

  “Wait a second, did you say bedrooms? As in plural?” Grace asks, excitement vibrating around her. “And the price is what we discussed on the phone?” she clarifies.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Danny declares. “I must have left that out when we spoke. Is that a problem?”

  “A two bedroom, with closets likes these, in this location, in my budget?” she asks, sarcasm hanging on every word. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect! Where do I sign?”

  “But you haven’t seen the rest of the place, sweetie,” Meredith chimes in.

  “Did you hear what he said? Two.” Grace holds up two fingers wiggling them back and forth. “There are two bedrooms. I’m sold.”

  “There’s no stopping her now,” Walter explains to me as Grace hugs Meredith. “Once she sets her mind on something, she wants it yesterday.”

  “As long as she’s happy,” I add, watching her bounce up and down excitedly.

  “Okay, then,” Danny says. “Let’s get back to the office and sign some papers. The place can be yours on the fifteenth.”

  With her parents walking in front of us, Grace stretches up and whispers in my ear, “I can’t wait to christen every single room in my new apartment with you.”

  Stopping outside the office door, I tell her, “Yeah, I think I’ll wait over here for a minute and get this hard-on under control. Thanks for that.”

  “No problem. What’s a girlfriend good for if she can’t get her man all hot and bothered?”

  There’s a bench situated next to the office which is in the middle of the small courtyard. It doesn’t take too long for my, um, excitement to go away. But sitting here, I can’t help but think about how crazy this all is. Some people might say six weeks is too soon to know how you feel about another person. I mean how much can you really get to know someone in such a short period of time? But with Grace, it’s different somehow. Maybe it takes other people so much longer because they’re too busy hiding behind layers of the person they think they want you to be. I can’t speak for her, but I know for me I’ve felt a connection to her through the years. Never real or tangible, but always present and alive, there was some force bringing us to this point.

  “All set, Mr. Sexy Fireman.” She struts over to me with a huge-ass smile on her face, explaining that pending the background check and some other paperwork, she should be able to move in on the fifteenth. Her parents follow behind, similar huge smiles on their faces as well.

  “We’re very proud of you, Gracie Girl.” Walter squeezes Grace’s shoulder, giving her a huge hug. “The perfect job. A great first apartment. A good guy. You’ve done mighty fine for yourself.”

  “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot coming from you.” Grace beams with pride.

  “And to show you how proud we are, your mother and I have a little surprise for you.” Walter angles his head to Meredith and she begins fishing through her bag.

  Eerily similar to the way her daughter just did, Meredith dangles a pair of keys from her fingers. “And now that you have an address, we know where we can have your new car delivered. We love you.”

  “Oh, my God! You guys, this is too much. I can’t.” Grace’s attempt to refuse the gift is quickly shot down as her mom shoves the keys into her hand.

  They hug some more. Grace and her mom cry. And despite feeling like I’m intruding on a family moment, I can’t help but feel proud of Grace as well.

  A few hours later, after dinner and more hugs and tears at the train station, we say goodbye to Grace’s parents. As we walk back to my car, Grace has a satisfied look on her face.

  “What’s up with you?” I ask, bumping my shoulder into hers.

  “Just happy I guess. Weird how everything is falling into place, you know.” We walk to her door, and I open it for her. “Like this.” She pauses, looking down at my hand on the open door. “I have a man opening car doors for me,” she gushes. “It’s just I never thought my life would fall into place so easily and it�
�s kind of overwhelming.”

  “In a good way, right?”

  “In the best way possible,” she assures me, popping a kiss to my cheek. “It’s every happily ever after I ever could have imagined all rolled into one.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I challenge and she looks up at me confused. Wrapping her in my arms, I explain, “This is only just the beginning.”

  “How many boxes of books does this chick—I mean, Grace. How many boxes of books does Grace have?” Ian grunts, hauling what should be the last of the boxes from the U-Haul truck and into Grace’s new apartment.

  “Quit your bitchin’ or else no beer and pizza for you.” Pushing the door open, the cold air from the apartment blasts in my face. “Damn that feels good. It’s a fuckin’ heatwave out there.”

  “What was that about bitchin’?” Ian jokes, dropping his box to the living room floor.

  As I’m wiping the sweat from my face with my shirt, a loud whistle fills the room. “Well hot damn!” Jade calls out. “Gracie my girl, you hit the lottery with this one!”

  “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Ian jokes, taking one of the beers from her hands.

  Jade shrugs, seemingly unaffected by her recent break up. Grace told me about it the other day. Apparently Bryce, this guy she’s been after for months, ended up being a self-involved douche bag. Apparently for some people, having a shit ton of money means you can treat other people like they’re not important. In the short time I’ve known her, Jade is not the type of woman to put up with a guy like that. So she dumped him.

  “He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. Besides, I don’t have time for a man who doesn’t appreciate this kind of awesomeness.” Twirling around, Jade puts herself on display and I see Ian checking her out.