From the Wreckage

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From the Wreckage Page 20

by Melissa Collins


  Love.

  The heat of his tongue thrashing against my clit is gone all too soon. Effortlessly, he pulls me down onto his lap, cupping my ass so that only the tip of his body is entering mine. “Are you sure? Because I can–”

  I can think of no better way of shutting him up than sinking down onto him with torturous slowness. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life.” Burying him deep inside, I wrap him in my arms.

  In that moment, everything in my life shifts.

  Every touch, every kiss, every word prior to this point fades to grey.

  “The other night”—I lift my hips a little, mourning the loss of his fullness—“when I almost said those words . . .” I sink back down, loving the feel of every vein and ridge pressing against my tight walls. He thrusts up as I push down, skin to skin, heart to heart. It’s almost more than I can take.

  “Yes,” he growls, digging his fingers into my flesh.

  “It was so natural to say them because,”—I lift again, my legs shaking—“because I’ve loved you for as long as I could remember.”

  Gripping me with all of his strength, there’s no room at all between us.

  Connected in every way imaginable, we move as only we know how. “As a kid, I loved you because you saved my life,” I moan the words into his ear, letting their fullness fade to nothing more than a breathless whisper. “Then I loved you in my dreams. Who I thought you’d become. The man I’d hoped to be reunited with someday.”

  He loses control of his rhythm, his hips driving up into mine as his rough hands push me down onto his needy body. “And now.” I take control, pushing down on him, letting him fill me completely. Stroking my hand over his stubbled jaw, I memorize every line and curve of his beautiful face. “Now, I love you for everything you are and all the things you aren’t. I love you for the fairy tale you’ve given me and for all the tomorrows to come.”

  He nuzzles his face between my breasts, kissing, nibbling, licking, all while making love to me like he never has before. There’s a languorous fluidity with every touch and taste. Second by second, we race toward oblivion, hands tied together, bodies connected in more ways than I ever thought possible.

  He slides his hand between our bodies, strumming his fingers against the rounded curve of my clit. “All my life,” he begins to profess. “I never thought I’d find you again. And then one night you were in a dream. So clear and perfect, every vision was real and alive,” he grounds out his words, focusing all his energy on making me come and stopping himself from doing the same thing. “And then you were my reality. You were right there in front of me and I might not have said the words right then and there, but I knew I would do anything in my power to keep you. To make you mine.” On his last word, his thumb takes up a furious pace. “And you are, Gracie. Every part of your body.” There’s a connection between his soul and mine, rivaled by the connection between his thumb and my body. “I love you more than should be allowed.”

  With a few more flicks of his finger, a few more drives into my body, he comes wildly, burying his face in my breasts. My hips move on their own accord, my orgasm crashing into me without warning. “Oh, God . . . oh, God . . . oh, God . . .” My words, staccato breaths of release matching the movement of my pulsing body, fall into the crook of his neck.

  But his words fall directly into my heart. Growing roots in my soul, they take up residence there.

  They become part of who I am, the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins.

  And when he quietly whispers them one more time, a soft, sweet, “I love you,” I become whole in a way I’d never known I was broken.

  “Babe, you need to relax. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” My words are utterly useless as she races around the apartment. “Seriously, Grace,” I call out, the tone of my voice a bit more stern. “Stop.”

  Resting her hands on the counter, she takes a break from putting her lunch together. Feeling somewhat helpless, I watch her shoulders rise and fall under the weight of her deep breaths. She doesn’t turn around to face me so I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. With my face nuzzled into her neck, I feel her body relax. “You’ve been going non-stop for hours.” I press my lips to her neck. “Making a last trip to your classroom—even though you were there all day.”

  Cutting in, she says, “Well, thank God I did that. The L fell off the wall. So instead of it saying WELCOME across my bulletin board, it read WE COME!”

  “I bet there would have been a line outside your door,” I joke.

  She slaps me hard on my chest. “David,” she yells. “Eww, that’s gross. They’re high school juniors.”

  Holding my hands up in mock defense, I laugh. “What? I’m just saying. With you looking like you do, you may as well play ‘Hot for Teacher’ as the kids walk into the room.”

  Disgusted, she shoots me a look. “Can we please change the subject?”

  “Fine. Back to the list of things that made Grace go crazy today. After going back to school, you ran to the store for last minute supplies—for the second time. You spent over an hour laying out your clothes. Then it was on to reprinting your lessons and memorizing student names—even though you’ve never seen their faces. And now you’ve been stressing over what to bring for lunch for about twenty minutes.” Exhaustion pales her face. Smiling at her, I brush my knuckles against her cheek. “Will you let me help, finally?” Her eyes flutter closed as I tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

  “Yes,” she gives in, sighing. Finally having run out of energy, her body goes slack in my arms. “Maybe I’ll take a bath and try and unwind. It was really overwhelming to be in meetings all day and then do everything I needed to get done before the students come in. So many new people to meet and names to remember. Then the policies and procedures. Meeting dates and special events. My head is spinning and I haven’t taught a single class.”

  “Sweetheart.” Tipping her chin up, I gaze into her bright blue eyes. “Shh,” I quiet her. “You kicked ass today and you’ll kick ass tomorrow. But not if you keep getting yourself all worked up like this.” Popping a kiss to her forehead, I hug her through a few more of her deep, calming breaths. Holding her at arm’s length, I say, “I’ll make your lunch. You take a bath. Then we’ll go to bed.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you.” She brushes her lips against my stubbled cheek before walking away and toward the bathroom. “Oh and, David?”

  “Yeah,” I respond, looking up from the mess she’s spread out across the kitchen counter.

  “You’re cute when you get all listy,” she jokes, laughing as she walks away.

  Shaking my head, I get to work. As I put together everything she’ll need for her first day of school, I overhear her singing too loudly in the bathroom. As I spread the mustard onto the bread, I catch a glimpse of the rest of our life. It’s a strange moment, one that freezes me in the here and now while everything around me fast forwards on.

  With sharp focus, I see everything. A big house and a few kids. Happiness and tears. Laughter and love. Though intangible, I watch as if floating above my own existence as I arrive home from work. Kids racing toward my car, telling me all about their day at school. Grace watches from the front door, relieved I’m home from a twenty-four hour shift. Catching sight of the love and happiness glimmering in her eyes, my chest fills with more emotion than I can put to words.

  I’ve heard people say they experience an “ah ha” moment, a definitive slice of time when their entire lives make sense.

  This is that moment for me.

  All the decisions I’ve made to this point have led me to Grace. To our future. To all the possibilities I’m not even aware of yet.

  In the four months we’ve been together, I’ve come to love her more than I’ve loved any woman. And in the last four minutes, I’ve dedicated all my tomorrows to her. Without a doubt, Grace not only owns my heart, my here and now, all of my todays, she resides in all my tomorrows.

&
nbsp; Smiling like a fool, I pull out my phone and look up her favorite poem. She mentioned it way back on that first night she took care of me after my pulled muscle. At that point, I filed it away, knowing one day it would be useful.

  Knowing this will make her smile tomorrow, I copy the lines of E.E. Cummings’ “i carry your heart,” onto a piece of paper and tuck it inside her lunch.

  After putting everything back into the fridge, I punch out a quick text to Jade, seeing if she has some free time tomorrow.

  Sure. What’s up?

  Need to do a little jewelry shopping. Figured you might want to help.

  Are you serious? You better be serious. OMG this is amazing.

  Laughing at the words popping up on my screen, I realize I probably shouldn’t have said anything until I was face to face with her.

  I am serious. Very serious in fact. But you can’t say anything. You got that, loose lips?

  Pinky swear. I’ll call you now.

  And in total Jade fashion, she includes an emoji of said pinky swear.

  No. She’s here now. I don’t want her to hear anything.

  We finish out the rest of the conversation, making plans to meet up during her lunch break at a jewelry shop close to her office. I delete the texts to be sure that a certain hot redhead doesn’t see anything she shouldn’t. Just as I slide my phone back, I hear the bathroom door open and soft footsteps pad into the bedroom.

  “What’s the goofball smile for?” Wrapped in a towel, her skin all pink from the hot water, Grace sits on the edge of her bed. Her red hair is darker when it’s wet, looking more brown than red, but beautiful nonetheless.

  Sitting down next to her, I turn her so she’s facing away from me. The drops of water on her shoulders mix in between her freckles, tempting me to drink them up before I devour her. “Nothing you need to worry about,” I answer as my fingers move over her skin, working out the knots and kinks from the day.

  Rolling her neck to the side, she groans, making my body instantly stiffen. “That feels so good.”

  Fighting as hard as humanly possible, I resist the urge to kiss her neck, lick those damn droplets of water. “Good, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

  She groans again, leaning into my touch and what I intended to simply be a massage to help her ease into the night quickly morphs into something more. Reaching around to the front where the towel is tucked into itself, I unwrap the fabric, letting it drift down her body. “David,” she whispers my name. Her shallow breaths convey her need and amplify my own.

  The spot where neck meets shoulder calls to me, making it impossible not to nibble on the soft skin there. My lips move across her neck and shoulders as my fingers work their way down her chest, tracing the curves of her lush breasts. Hardened into stiff points, I toy with her nipples, making her lean back into my chest. With her back to my chest, and the towel in a damp heap on the floor, I openly take in her body. Naked and writhing into my touch, Grace’s beauty is too much for me to take in. Needing more room than only the edge of the bed, I pull us more fully onto the mattress. Moving her head into my lap, her face rests on my upper thigh. “Open your legs, baby. Let me touch you. Make you come.”

  Without hesitation, she spreads her legs, exposing her sweet flesh. My fingers dip into her tight pussy, reveling in her warmth. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re so hot.”

  Near breathless, she writhes against me, grinding into my hand. I arch my body as her hands move to my waist. Sliding down the waistband of my mesh shorts and boxers, she wraps her hand around my cock. Pulling it toward her mouth, she licks and kisses it as my finger circles her clit. “Your mouth. Holy shit,” I cry out when she takes me all the way to her throat. My fingers move frantically in her pussy, plunging deeper as her mouth takes more and more of my cock. Seeing this erotic fantasy play out right before my eyes is almost more than I can take. “I need to be inside you. Now,” I demand with one final circle around her clit.

  In a quick move, we’re in the center of the bed, her soft, needy body beneath mine. Smirking down at her, I wrap an arm around her waist and flip her onto her stomach. Without saying a word, I move her body, loving how easily she complies. On her hands and knees, facing away from me, I stroke a hand down the center of her back. “You’re stunning.”

  Shooting me a sexy-as-sin look over her shoulder, she tells me, “You’re pretty incredible, too.” Her eyes travel over my body, settling on my hand working over my cock. “Please tell me you’re about to use that on me.”

  “Only ever you, baby,” I promise, my words holding more meaning than she can fathom right now. Teasing the wide head of my cock over her slick flesh, my legs begin to shake. Only Grace does this to me. Makes doing the simplest things, like breathing and holding my body steady, far too impossible. Easing into her, I revel in the warm deliciousness of her tight body opening for me. Her hands grip at the pillow, white knuckled and flexing in pleasure.

  “Oh, God . . . David . . . oh, my God . . .” Her words fall from her lips, a delicate balance of curse and prayer, of satisfaction and need.

  “I know, baby. Oh, God, do I know.” With each plunge, her body shakes more. Within seconds, she’s incapable of holding herself up. More than happy to help her out, I secure an arm around her waist, supporting her. The soft curves of her body fit perfectly into the muscled lines of mine. In a grip I’m sure will leave bruises on her hip, I hold her steady, diving into her from behind. She bounces on my lap, crying out my name on every hard thrust.

  Running a hand down her stomach, I go further still, not stopping until it lands on her hardened clit. “Oh, fuck,” she growls. “It’s too much, baby. Too much. I can’t,” she begs, but I can’t tell what it’s for.

  “What do you want?” I whisper into her ear. “Do you want me to stop?” My fingers stop their assault on her body. She whimpers in response, sounding as if she’s mourning the loss of my touch. “Want me to keep going then?”

  “Just make me come. Please, I can’t take it anymore. You’re too much for me. It’s all too much.” Her admission, that she needs everything I can give her, sends me over some imaginary line of my control.

  Picking up the pace, I drive into her from behind, loving the friction of her back to my chest. My finger circles her clit, bringing her right to that line with me. My legs start to buckle as the searing energy of my orgasm gathers at the base of my spine. “Fucking hell,” I ground out, spilling into her convulsing body.

  In a breathless heap of tangled limbs, we fall to the bed. Sated and exhausted, Grace curls into my body, resting her head on my chest. Her fingers dance across my skin, tickling through my chest hair. “This is my favorite place to be.” With bright eyes, she looks up at me, smiling like a fool. “Right here next to you.”

  “Naked, right?” I add, wrapping my arm tighter around her back.

  The laughter in her face fades away. Smiling, her eyes wrinkle in the corners, making room for a single tear to fall. “Anyway possible. Naked, or clothed. Sleeping or awake. Laughing or fighting. Here.” Her fingers flex on my chest as she wiggles her body even closer to mine. “Next to you. In your arms. Breathing the same air as you. You’re where I always want to be, no matter what.” She presses her lips to my chest, right over my heart, as if she’s placing a seal on a sacred vow.

  Falling asleep with her in my arms, her calm, even breaths rising and falling at my side, the feel of her kiss lingering on my skin, I know in my bones she had the same revelation I did earlier.

  We are each other’s forever.

  “What about this one?” Jade calls my attention to the case she’s looking at. The attendant lifts a tray from beneath the glass and Jade points to a ring all before I can get over to her side of the small shop.

  “Let me see.” Trying to look over her shoulder, whatever ring is on her finger, she’s not showing me right away. When she turns around, hand extended in front of her, I have to blink hard to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing. “That’s, um, i
nteresting.” Suddenly I’m regretting asking Jade to come along. Maybe I would have been better off on my own. “But do you think, maybe,” I try my best to put it delicately, but all I can come up with is, “That ring is hideous.” The yellow gold alone is enough for me to know that’s not Grace’s ring. I’ve never seen her wear yellow gold in the months we’ve been together and I’ve never seen a piece in her possession. In fact, she doesn’t wear much jewelry to begin with. “And a green stone?” I eye her suspiciously. “You’re not serious, are you?

  Before she can say anything, Jade breaks out into a loud burst of laughter. “Fine, you caught me.” As she hands the ugly ring back to the clerk, she apologizes. “Call it a test. I wanted to make sure my girl ends up with a beautiful ring,” she declares. Hitching her hand to her hip, she adds, “So you pass round one.” In two long strides, she moves to another counter. Following behind her, I shake my head.

  It turns out that round two, three, and four all involve her pointing out some of the ugliest pieces of jewelry I’ve ever seen. With each suggestion, they become less and less hideous, but they’re definitely meant as deterrents rather than legitimate ideas. “Maybe another day.” I stop her pointing with an annoyed voice.

  Resting up against the counter, I apologize to the clerk once again. I had no idea bringing Jade along would be so much work. “You seem frustrated,” she assesses, standing next to me.

  “You think?” Shooting her a look, I rake a hand through my hair. “This isn’t working. All I wanted to do was come here, find a ring for the woman I love and get home in time to greet her at the door.” The clerk looks on, seemingly less annoyed with us, but still not entirely on my side. “But all you’ve done is waste your entire lunch break making sure I don’t like the ugly pieces.”

  “Hey now.” The clerk, an older woman who looks like she’s well into her sixties, clutches her pearls at my words. “That’s just about enough of that.”

 

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