Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

A genuine smile curved his mouth, that face so beautiful I found I no longer knew how to look away. The sum of them was enough to plunder the breath right from my lungs.

  Guess that was exactly where I wanted to be.

  I felt him place his hand at the small of my back.

  “Let’s see if we can find a good spot.” He scanned through the people milling around the vendor trucks and booths, across from those who were gathering in small groups hoping to find a place on the grass to watch the show.

  A jazz festival.

  This might have been the last place I’d have expected Christopher would take me. But at every turn was another surprise, every new corner we rounded just another reminder of how thoughtful I’d once believed him to be.

  While he searched for an open spot, I took the opportunity to look at him.

  To really look at him.

  My gaze traced along the defined contours of his strong jaw, covered in a thick coat of dark stubble. His profile was strong and his demeanor proud. Predatory. That troublemaking teenager my parents had been so terrified of had evolved, manifesting into an all-around menacing physical force. A beautiful type of intimidation. Too pretty to touch and too dangerous to approach.

  For so long I’d believed him evil.

  Cruel and vile.

  My spirit thrashed in protest.

  Impossible.

  So much time had been wasted questioning myself. Wondering if I’d just been a blind, naive little girl. I hadn’t given myself the chance to believe.

  But I realized it now. I did. I believed the words he’d poured onto paper for me. I believed his smile and the emotion held fast in his eyes.

  Christopher slipped his hand all the way around to grip my side. Every inch of my skin came alive.

  He pointed off to the left. “How about over there?”

  “Looks great to me.”

  He led me by the hand past all the vendors and up a small hill. My dress flats squished into the damp lawn as I followed close behind. With a squeeze of the hand, he released me and spread the blanket out over the side of a small incline that faced the stage. The spot he picked was a little more private, back away from the crowds that were situated right up close under the stage, but close enough that we had an excellent, elevated view.

  “This is perfect,” I said, unable to keep from chewing at my lip. Excitement bubbled beneath my skin. I loved getting the chance to be this free with him. Just Christopher and me.

  Us.

  Inside, that ball of anxious anticipation flared, that warning of impending change. But this time it lacked even an ounce of dread.

  Christopher frowned, though somehow it was a smile, dents of curiosity striking across his brow. “What are you thinking about?” He tilted his head to study me.

  “This just… feels… good,” I admitted quietly.

  Okay, way more than good.

  Amazing and perfect and everything I’d ever imagined it could be.

  A rush of shyness hit me with these thoughts, and I chewed at my lip, coated in that yummy gloss, wondering how in a few short months, everything inside me could feel so radically different.

  Christopher reached across the short space between us and took the errant strand of hair blowing around my face between his fingers. He brushed it away, and a small smile lifted at one side of his mouth as he let his fingers slide down my neck.

  I shook beneath the feel of his fingertips and the weight of his spirit.

  Finally he turned back to catch my gaze. “Every second I get to spend with you is good, Samantha. Don’t doubt that.”

  And I didn’t. Every second I’d spent with him had slowly eradicated those doubts.

  His voice came out rough. “Thank you for coming out here with me.”

  Gratitude shook my head. As if somehow I was doing him a favor? “This…” I shook my head a little harder. “You don’t know how much I needed this. How much it means to me that you’d bring me out here. That you’d take the time to celebrate something so small as my new job.”

  “Small?” He took a step forward, erasing all the space between us, tipping my head back to meet his gorgeous face. “Nothing small about you achieving something you worked for, Samantha. Don’t want to ever hear you implying that something’s not big enough or good enough when it’s important to you. And if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me. You understand what I’m saying?”

  It sounded hard, almost angry, and it struck me deep, in those places that I’d kept locked up and reserved for him, the places that I thought were just a fantasy, about a boy who understood me and believed in me. My fingers were somehow twisted in the hem of his T-shirt. “Yes,” I barely got out, the word catching in my throat.

  “Good,” he said firmly. Then he shot me one of those wicked smiles that I liked far too much, although it was more intense than I ever remembered. He touched the pad of his thumb against the corner of my mouth. “Tonight’s yours, Sweet Samantha, so let’s make it what you want. Yeah?”

  A shiver trickled down my spine. “Yeah,” I agreed through a whisper.

  He stepped back and looked over my shoulder at the vendors behind me. “Why don’t you save our spot and I’ll grab us something to eat and drink?”

  “I can do that.”

  “What would you like?”

  “Um… aren’t you supposed to drink beer at these things?” I asked.

  Christopher scratched at the back of his head, chuckling. “Uh, I think you have about as much of an idea as I do. Can’t say I’ve ever been to one before. But a beer sounds pretty damned good right about now.”

  “Beer it is, then.”

  “Don’t move.” He pointed at me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  I settled down on the blanket, kicked off my shoes, and pulled my knees up to my chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “That’s my good girl.”

  A blush rushed to my face at the old sentiment Christopher used to wrap me in, the way he said it like praise, like a promise of what would be.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he sauntered off toward the slew of vendors set up in the distance. Every few seconds he’d look back at me, this expression on his face that had me hugging my legs, holding myself close, wishing it was him holding me instead.

  What had he done to me?

  Another band struck up, and I relaxed back on my elbows as I listened to the strains of music that floated across the park. The air was perfect and the atmosphere was even better. I’d just thrown on some worn skinny jeans and a wide-necked sweater, and I felt totally comfortable under the emerging night.

  How much time had passed, I didn’t know, but it was as if I was drawn to glance over to the side, where I saw Christopher approaching, balancing two beers in his hands. Food was stacked up against one arm held close to his side.

  I giggled under his towering shadow, grinning up at him. “It looks like you could use an extra hand. Why didn’t you have me come help you?”

  He handed off a beer to me, kneeling down on one knee so he could lay out the food he’d purchased on the blanket. “Because tonight I’m taking care of you.”

  Oh.

  I grinned a little harder. I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long, long time.

  Releasing a contented sigh, Christopher settled down beside me on the blanket and casually drew a knee up to his chest. He looked out toward the stage and took a sip of his beer. I watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed, and all these little sparks lit inside of me.

  He was so beautiful, his presence so powerful, so big and overwhelming.

  Too much.

  But somehow I wanted more.

  He glanced at me. “This is kinda cool, yeah?”

  “Completely. I’ve always wanted to go to one but never seemed to get around to making plans to do it.”

  Christopher unwrapped the mess of food he’d brought back for us, hamburgers and brats and tacos. We both dug in. Our laughter and
voices were subdued as we talked, ate, and enjoyed the music. We immediately stumbled into this casual rapport. Everything between us felt completely natural. Instinctive.

  Not light.

  No.

  There was a weight in every word we spoke, an importance neither of us could miss. But everything about it felt right. The band playing in the distance had wrapped us up in ease as the night fell deeper. All of it had somehow drawn us closer.

  I finished eating and balled up my wrappers. Christopher gathered everything and went to dump it in a trash bin. I drew both my legs up to my chest, hugging them, and when he returned, he settled down even closer than before.

  “So tell me about this new job,” he said as he knocked his shoulder into mine.

  Self-consciously, I shrugged. I tipped my chin up so I could look at him, his arm pressed along the length of mine. “They offered me a three-year contract and they’ve assigned me to the second-grade class. They said they think I’m the perfect fit for that age-group and they’d be honored to have me there.”

  I hesitated. “It felt good,” I finally said quietly. I turned away and looked out toward the lit-up stage as I let the admission bleed free. “My whole life, I’ve always done what everyone else has wanted me to do. I just…” I peered up at him. “I wanted this. I just want to make a difference in these kids’ lives. Even if it’s small… that’s what I want.”

  He reached out and placed his hand on the back of my neck. He brushed his thumb along my jaw. A coaxing caress. Warmth spiraled through me.

  His voice came near my ear. “I’m so proud of you, Samantha,” he whispered, speaking only to me. It was as if he had the power to inject the words right into my spirit. “So fucking proud. Those kids are going to be the luckiest damned kids in the world. They get to have you in their lives… get to have you teach them all the shit they have to learn. But the most important thing? They get to look up to you. They get to see firsthand what it means to be good and kind.”

  Christopher stared at me, those green eyes flitting all over my face. I got lost there. And I never wanted to look away.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “Can’t believe you’re sitting out here with me.”

  My heart skipped, then sped, and I could feel the heat burning at my cheeks, the fire that had always belonged to Christopher setting up a soft glow that warmed my insides. I wet my lips, my words grating with honesty. “I can’t believe it, either. Do you know how many times…” I trailed off, not sure I should say it aloud.

  “So many that I’d thought I’d lose my mind,” he supplied, as if he was filling me in on his own truth.

  A truth that perfectly matched mine.

  Heaviness strained between us, all this emotion and regret that I wasn’t sure either of us knew how to handle.

  Christopher cleared his throat and lifted his plastic cup between us. “But you’re here now,” he said, “and that’s all that matters. And tonight is about you. So, my Sweet Samantha, let’s toast you.” He shifted closer and lowered his voice. “May you always find joy in this life. May you reach out and take whatever it has to offer. And may it offer you everything you deserve.”

  I touched my cup against his. My voice was small as I laid myself bare. “And may I do it without fear, but with faith.”

  I’d lived in fear for so long, a prisoner to all the what-ifs that held me back, letting myself fall into a safety net that had served only to snuff the life out of me.

  There was no amusement on his face, only this brazen hope and something that looked like his own fear. “Amen,” he murmured so quietly I could barely hear. A testament rumbled out into the descending night. Like this man could somehow understand my prayer.

  Chills raked across the surface of my skin, and my body shivered.

  “You cold?” he asked, his tone turning worried.

  “A little.”

  But I wasn’t. Not at all. I just needed to be closer to him.

  “Come here.” He set our drinks aside and took my hand, guiding me to crawl between his legs. He pulled my back against his chest. He wrapped me up in his strong arms and hooked his chin over my shoulder. I rested my head back next to his. “Better?” he asked at my ear, his nose running down my neck.

  Goose bumps erupted across my flesh, and I gasped a short breath. Nestled in his arms was the best place I could ever wish to be. I was helpless to do anything but nod and sink further into his protective hold.

  Music played on as the atmosphere progressively became subdued. A deep comfort rippled through the crowd, tranquility and peace and calm. A breeze rustled by, whipping through my hair.

  Christopher nuzzled his nose deeper into my neck, running his thumbs in delicate circles on my belly over my shirt. That shock of unruly hair brushed along my cheek. I turned toward it, inhaling, clouding my senses with the intensity of this man, the inundating flood of sex and lust and everything I’d always believed I shouldn’t have.

  But I wanted it.

  Wanted him.

  His lips were at my shoulder, leaving a whisper of a kiss as he dragged them across my bare skin. One arm tightened across my stomach while his other hand slowly slid up my torso. I shuddered as he drew it up between my breasts and to the center of my chest. He held it there, and I could feel my heart beating a thousand emotions against his palm.

  Christopher’s mouth parted against my jaw.

  I whimpered.

  God, I just needed to see him, to make sense of what was happening. I twisted out of his hold to face him and sat back low on my knees.

  His expression was fierce, his eyes frantic as they darted all over my face.

  With a trembling hand, I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair.

  Eyes dropping closed, he snatched me by the wrist and pressed the underside to his lips. He gentled a kiss across the sensitive skin. “Samantha,” he mumbled, almost pained.

  Chills skated free and fast. “What is this?” I forced out, the words shaky.

  He grasped both sides of my face, bringing us nose to nose. “This is unstoppable.”

  Christopher threaded his fingers in my hair, and I could feel the tension wind through him, the coil of strained muscles that bunched and flexed as he held me an inch from his face.

  “Samantha,” he murmured again, before he leaned forward and captured my bottom lip between both of his. All that soft fullness closed over mine, the kiss a sweet assault of gentle tugs and pulls of his mouth that danced right through my soul. He kept the kiss slow but brimming with emotion, so full I wanted to weep.

  It reminded me so much of that first tentative kiss, the one back in the park years ago that had swept me off my feet.

  Succumbing, I uttered a tiny moan, my lips pushing back, brushing his, welcoming more.

  Hungry hands cupped my neck, before he ran them over my shoulders and down to my waist. I rose higher on my knees, my hair falling down around us as I fell into his kiss.

  Beneath the slow exploration, all those smoldering ashes lit. A furor of flames licked and jumped.

  I never wanted it to end.

  The kiss remained gentle, almost a contradiction to the intensity brewing between us.

  Fingers dug into my sides when I pressed closer, needing to feel more of him, and his tongue slipped into my mouth, a controlled chaos that would be my complete undoing.

  “Christopher,” I breathed, and he burrowed his fingers deeper. There was no mistaking his blatant want. Every inch of this beautiful man was hard and straining and as desperate for me as I was for him.

  He ripped himself away. “It’s time to go.”

  I almost laughed at the madness of it all, this crazy boy who held me in his hand, the one who made me feel as if I could fly, the same boy I’d follow wherever he wanted me to go.

  When had I forgotten?

  He helped me to stand, then gathered the blanket in a ball. He tucked it under his arm and guided me away with the other. Our breaths were labored with intent as we wove behin
d the vendors and deeper into the night, traipsing through the grass to the parking lot where we’d left his truck. Christopher said nothing as he helped me in, then rushed around to his side to get in the driver’s seat. He slammed his door shut.

  A stark stillness took us over as the overhead lights dimmed and cast us in shadows.

  Even then, I could feel the severity of his gaze. His voice was gravel. “If I take you back to my place, it means you’re mine, Samantha. You understand what I’m telling you? Otherwise I’m taking you straight home.”

  Unable to form words, I nodded.

  “Then tell me now, what’s it gonna be? Because I refuse to share you with that asshole.”

  The decision scraped up my throat. “You. It’s always been you.”

  It was never really a decision to make.

  No matter what happened between me and Christopher, the relationship I had with Ben was a charade I could no longer keep up. Maybe it had everything to do with Christopher. I didn’t know. But what I did know was Ben never had my heart. It’d always belonged to Christopher.

  He started his truck, threw it in gear, and tore out of the lot. We said nothing as he drove the short distance back to his house. We just let all our unspent emotion build up between us.

  He didn’t even touch me.

  But I knew I was his.

  He pulled into his garage and cut the engine. Overhead, the chain ground against the metal wheel, and the large garage door slid shut behind us, making it feel like the two of us were the only ones that existed in this world.

  I sat in frozen anticipation as he made his way around to my side.

  Was this really happening?

  I was shaking when he opened the door. He reached across me to release my seat belt. Stealing all the air. Filling me up with his own.

  Grasping me by the hips, he pulled me into his arms. He hiked me up high on his body, my head above his. I wrapped my legs around him, my urgent hands clutching him at the back of his neck.

  Oh God. I might lose my mind if I didn’t get him closer. After all this time, after everything we’d missed, I didn’t think I could ever get him close enough.

  “Sweet Samantha,” he uttered and those green eyes flashed with desire. He stared up at me and twisted his fingers through my mass of hair, bunching it in his hand, the other bracing me around his waist. “I was a fucking fool to let you go. Won’t ever do it again.”