by Cathryn Fox
Which do I want more?
I shrug from his jacket, and his scent curls around me. Silence falls over my apartment as I wait to hear his boots, his rap at my door. I back up, on edge, not knowing what to do with myself. Butterflies whirl in my stomach as the minutes stretch on. I turn to see my clock, now convinced he’s not coming.
Liquor. That’s what I need. Lots of liquor.
I turn and head to the fridge where I have a bottle of white wine, but stop when a knock on my door vibrates through me. I straighten to recover my composure and walk slowly across the room. Habit has me peeking through the peep hole, and I know I was just with him, and that we’d already had sex, but my heart jumps in my chest because this feels like the first time.
I open the door, and he stands there for a minute, like he’s unsure of what comes next. That makes two of us. I wave my hand and step back.
“Come in.”
He walks past me and I catch his scent. I suck in a breath, close the door and lock it behind me. I turn slowly, and my knees nearly give way when I find Tyler standing there, dominating the space. Head bent, his eyes burn through me, sear my flesh from my bones and leave me wide open.
Now that the moment is here—a decision made—nervousness rakes across my skin, gathers low in my belly. “Drink?” I ask. I don’t wait for an answer. Instead I dart past him, grab the bottle from the fridge and pour two glasses. I don’t need to turn to know he’s in the kitchen. I can feel him standing behind me, watching me carefully. Anxiety rolls off me in waves and I’m sure he must feel it.
“Sara,” he murmurs and goose bumps break out over my flesh as he whispers my name. I gather my bravado, turn, and plaster on a smile as I hand him a glass. He takes it, but doesn’t drink. “What are we doing?” he asks, his voice somber.
“We’re doing this, Ty.” I take a big gulp of wine, set it on the counter, and reach for his pants. I push the button through the hole and add, “For however long it takes. Okay?”
“Okay.” He pulls me into the crook of his am and presses a kiss to the top of my head. I lean against him, unable to get close enough. God, how many times have we touched like this? “You talked about ground rules, Sara. I need to set one, too.”
I inch back to see him, but instantly miss his warmth and the way it curls around me and makes me feel safe, even though when it comes to Tyler, I’m anything but. This man is a danger to me in far too many ways.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Just us.” Tortured eyes meet mine, and my body thrums for his touch. “No one else while we’re together? Or I can’t do this.”
I know he’s asking about Caleb. I’m not the kind of girl to sleep with two men at the same time. Heck, up until his return, I wasn’t even the type of girl to sleep with one man. As for Caleb, I only went out with him because I thought I needed to walk among the living again, and he’d been showing interest. I thought it would help me move past Tyler. It didn’t and this is my last resort.
“No one else,” I say. Caleb shouldn’t be too difficult to deal with. We’d only been on one date. But he had sent those flowers and I did tell him I’d show him around the city. I’ll text him and ask if I can have a talk with him on Monday after my class.
“What are your terms?” Tyler asks, pulling me back.
“No one can ever know. We keep this a secret.”
He nods. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with your family or your chances of promotion at the bank, Sara,” he says.
“Thank you.” He drops a kiss onto my forehead and my head swims, wondering where we go from here. When his stomach makes a noise, I ask, “Hungry?”
“Yeah, starving,” he says, and scoops me up. I give a little yelp as he carries me to the bathroom. His lips brush my ear and my whole body trembles.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“That asshole touched you tonight and the only scent I want on your skin is mine.” His eyes darken, and in a move that has possession written all over it, he takes my mouth with his, his hands cupping the back of my neck to hold me in place, like he fears I’ll flee. But this was my idea, and I’m not going anywhere until we’re finally done with each other. Sated. Spent. Completed.
He sets me on the counter top, opens the frosted sliding door, and turns on the shower. I blatantly stare at his ass, and a grin creeps in around the corners of his mouth when he turns back to me. My insides warm. I haven’t seen him smile—really smile— since he’s been back.
“Stare much?” he asks his voice like a rough caress.
I laugh, some of the tension easing from my body. “I stare when I like what I see.”
His eyes roam over my body. “Yeah, me too.” He tugs his shirt off, and this time I try not to focus on the scars. I crook my finger and he comes toward me. I look him over, and his hair falls forward as he lets out a hard breath.
“Touch me, Sara. Please…”
I place my hand on his chest, feel his thundering heartbeat, and widen my fingers. He hisses in air, his muscles rippling beneath my palms. “You got hard,” I say as I trace the deep groves and high ridges.
“I’m hard all right. Everywhere,” he teases, a twinkle in his eyes. “Slide your hand lower and you’ll see.”
I know he’s trying to change the subject, but my stomach coils tight when I think about what he endured in prison. “Did you…work out a lot?”
He shakes his head, like he doesn’t want to talk about it. When I blink up at him, he says, “Sara, don’t.”
Letting it go, my fingers slide lower over his exposed flesh, and he holds his breath when I cup his cock through his jeans. “You’re right,” I say, to let him know I won’t bring up prison again. “You are hard everywhere.” With my eyes lowered, he leans in and presses his mouth to my head, peppering me with hot, kisses. My heart squeezes painfully, his actions so damn familiar. I unzip his pants, and slide my hand inside. His cock is hard, like rock hard—steel—as it pulses against my palm. Moisture floods between my legs and dampens my panties.
“We need this, Tyler,” I say. I’m not sure why I keep repeating that or who I’m trying to convince more. I close my eyes as I touch him. Even though he hurt me, left me heartbroken, I missed him, missed this.
His throat works as he swallows. For a beat he says nothing. Then he whispers, “I know.” He rocks into me, and I stroke his long length. My body burns up, my sex clenching in anticipation of things to come.
He grips the hem of my dress and tugs it over my thighs. His fingers brush my inner legs and I widen for him, greedy for his touch.
“Sara,” he murmurs, and presses his head to my forehead. We stay like that, breathe together for a long time. “Sara,” he says again, like he loves the way my name sounds on his tongue. Missed having it there for so long.
“I know, Ty. I know,” I finally say.
His lips find mine again, and he kisses me, gentle at first, but then it expands, deepens, until we’re lost in each other. He picks me up from the counter and unzips my dress. I shake my shoulders and it slides to my feet. His eyes dim with desire as he takes me in.
“Much better,” he says, his voice a deep husky rumble. “More like the real you.”
He reaches behind me and unhooks my bra. It too falls into the heap on the floor. He places warm hands on my sides, a soft slide over my skin, and toys with the elastic on my panties. He tugs a little, then his fingers sink into my curves, bruising my delicate flesh enough to let me know he’s claiming me, leaving his mark. I push against him and he sinks to his knees and presses his mouth to my sex. Even through my lace panties, his hot breath scorches my skin. I tremble, and he puts one arm around me to hold me tight.
He rubs his mouth over me, and I grip his hair, tug a little. My nipples swell, ache for the heat of his mouth. He nips at my panties, tugs them from my hips with his teeth, and an exited shiver runs through me.
He drags my panties down, and my belly tightens as his calluses rake over my sk
in. He reaches my ankles and I lift my feet one at a time so he can remove the scrap of material. I wait for him to stand, take me into the shower, but instead he parts my folds with his fingers and goes back on his heels, just looking at me standing there, spread open for him.
“Ty,” I murmur, my voice hoarse and uneven. I don’t even sound like myself.
He leans in, licks me from bottom to top and his touch zaps though me like I’ve just been hit with a high voltage wire. A cry catches in my throat. “I need to spend some time here, Sara,” he murmurs and opens his mouth wide to eat at me. His tongue slides over my hard clit, swirls around it until I’m taking deep gulping breaths. I rake my hands through his hair and hold him to me, because I too need him to spend some time between my legs. Tears prick my eyes as I stand there, paralyzed by his mouth, so desperate for his touch yet terrified by it just the same.
My breasts grow heavy, achy as he presses a finger into me, a deft finger that has touched every inch of my body and knows just what I need to take me over the edge. His tongue slides, his mouth eats, and his fingers slick in and out of me, slow at first, but now reaching a faster pace. I undulate my hips, crash against his mouth as he destroys me.
My breath comes in fast, short, choppy gasps as he rolls his tongue over my clit, then applies the perfect amount of pressure. Wild, needy, I cry out his name, mindless of anything but this man and what he’s doing to me.
* * *
My body flexes, pulses, lets go and gives in to the throbbing desire between my legs. Air evacuates my lungs and the room whirls around me. I shake, stop breathing, and stand there mindless, a quivering mess until there is nothing left of me. Ty slides up my body, grips the back of my neck, and puts his mouth close to my ear.
“Breathe, Sara.”
I suck in a quick breath, feel his rigid length on my stomach as he backs me up and guides me under the hot spray. His mouth claims mine again, a deep sensuous kiss that arouses me all over again. It’s frightening how much I want him again. He grabs my loofa, squirts my vanilla-scented liquid soap onto it, and rubs it over my body. A new ache builds inside me, spreads rapidly through my body and I gyrate my hips to let him know.
He backs me up, presses me to the tile, his muscled arms on either side of my head, like two barricades locking me in. His mouth falls over mine, and his kisses are slow, tempered, a captive animal about to be released. His kiss deepens until he’s devouring me, a man driven by need and hunger. I touch his arms, as he bends and presses his mouth to my neck, consuming every inch of me. I quake, loving that I can touch him like this again.
His tongue skates over my quivering flesh, and I slide one hand down his body to capture his hard cock. I take him into my hand and his groan falls heavy, a deep-rooted animal sound that coils through me. I stroke him, weigh his thickness in my hand, and wet my mouth, wanting to taste him again. But he seems to have other ideas because in a fast move, he turns me around, takes my hands and places them on the tile wall.
“Stay like that, Sara.”
He inches away, and I miss his heat. I glance over my shoulder to find him watching me, his face twisted, tortured, and my heart crashes harder. The years have been so goddamn hard on him.
“Take me, please…”
His hot palm rakes down my back, tracing my vertebra, until he reaches the swell of my ass. He takes my cheek into his hand and squeezes, then brushes lower, between my legs.
“Widen for me,” he whispers into my ear.
I spread my legs, and he hooks one muscled arm around my waist to hold me, the move so familiar my heart pinches. He bends over me, his mouth on my back. “I want to fuck you like this, Sara.”
“Yes, please,” I say, knowing how much he’s always liked this position. I wiggle my ass and he groans as his crown slips between my legs. I move and twist and try to force him inside, but then he goes completely still. My heart stops pumping. Has he come to his senses, realized we shouldn’t be doing this because it comes with an expiration date and somewhere in the back of both our minds we know this can only lead to more heartache?
“Condom,” he says roughly.
I shake my head so hard my wet hair whips around my face. “No, Tyler. Like this.”
The way we used to…
“Sara—”
“Like before, Tyler. Skin on skin. Nothing separating us. Not this time. Just you and me, no barriers.” It will strip me bare, leave me raw, and completely destroy me. But so help me, God, I can’t help it. Maybe I need to be totally broken, hit rock bottom before I can start to rebuild again. “It’s the only way.”
He swallows hard. “Are you on the pill?” he asks softly.
“Yes. I’m on it to regulate my cycle.”
“Sara…” His voice falls off, giving me the sense that what he’s about to say next is almost too painful to put into words.
I breathe in and brace myself. “Yeah.”
“I need you to know that I’ve not been with anyone since you,” he says, his voice so ragged with emotion, I worry he’s drowning in grief.
A peach-sized lump clogs my throat and I try to talk, want to ask him what happened to him in prison, the abuse he endured, but can’t for so many reasons. I make a small tortured noise, and when my knees give, I lean against the wall for support.
As if reading my mind, he says, “I was never raped in prison.” He brushes my hair from my shoulder and I’m almost glad he’s telling me this when I have my back to him. I’m not sure I could survive seeing the pain in his eyes.
He clears his throat and whispers, “I know you must have been wondering about that.”
I breathe deeply, my heart bleeding, as I absorb and assimilate his words. “Okay,” I finally manage to say as his hands slide to my hips.
“I came close to it once, and fought back. That’s when Deacon took me under his care.” I have no idea who Deacon is, but I remain quiet. “I guess I proved myself worthy of him or something.” A long painful pause and then, “What I’m trying to tell you is, I’m clean.”
“Me too.”
“I know,” he whispers, his breath falling over me as his crown breaches my opening. He opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but I’m not sure I can take it.
As my heart rattles against my ribcage, I say, “Tyler…”
“Yeah.”
“Make love to me.”
He slides into me, and I hold my breath. He thrusts gently, filling me. Intimate. I close my eyes as we become one, and revel in the closeness, yet at the same time, I can’t seem to get close enough. Heat builds inside me and I move against him, ground into him, needing every inch of his hardness. He growls and powers into me, harder this time, more demanding.
I rock backward and meet his every fierce thrust, familiar want burning through me. His touch brings me back to life, and my senses feel sharper, the smell of him, the feel, even the taste. His cock is relentless, driving into me with hard blunt strokes, rough and fast…so good. He always was a great lover. His hands race over me, swift, feverish as he impales me. He cups my breasts, pinches my nipples, then he slides his fingers between my legs to pluck my inflamed clit.
I cry out as he fills me, a low keening sound that seems to make him wilder. He ravages me, savage thrusts that take me to the edge and push me over. I let myself soar, free-fall without a safety net and shatter around his cock, my release so hard and primal, I tremble from head to toe. He groans, a deep vicious sound of need as I come around his cock, and keep coming, and coming. I blink and gasp, unable to believe how much cum he wrung from me.
“Fuck, yes,” Ty growls, holds my hips for leverage and stills inside me. I feel him pumping his seed into me, and I squeeze my muscles, wanting all of him, every ounce that I’ve been denied for nine long years. When he stops spasming, he falls over me, his arms wrapped so tightly around my body, I can’t breathe. I let him hold me, until I need air, then I shift.
“Tyler,” I whisper, but he doesn’t let me go. He stays wrapped around me,
as unraveled as I am. He stands, still holding me, and pulls me under the warm spray. It washes over us and hides the tears pricking my eyes. I swallow as he holds me tight, and he turns me. I take in his brutally beautiful face, his scars, and settle my head against his chest and listen as our erratic heartbeats even out.
With our bodies temporarily sated, he slides open the frosted door and he guides me out. I stand on the mat, and neither of us speak as he grabs a big fluffy towel and pats it against my body, going to his knees so he can dry me from head to toe, and turning me around to do the same to my back. Once done, he tosses another towel over his shoulder and wraps me in mine.
His eyes are intense, haunted as he carries me to the bed, and gently sets me down, in-between the sheets. He towel-dries quickly, then slides in beside me. The bed dips as he rolls toward me, caging my body. His mouth finds mine and this time our kisses are soft, gentle, a mournful exchange of a lifetime of lost.
I love him.
I wish I didn’t. Lord knows I wish I didn’t love a man who shattered me, a man I can no longer trust to return to crime. He’s changed in so many ways since leaving here, but I can’t deny that I saw glimpses of my sweet Tyler—the boy from my youth—as he made love to me. Tears fill my eyes, and he breaks the kiss to see me. Sadness washes over his face as my tears fall. He brushes them away, only for more to follow. He gathers me carefully, places my head on his chest and holds me to him, cocooning me in his arms and warmth and stroking me tenderly as we both cry ourselves to sleep.
9
Tyler
The morning air is crisp and my breath turns to fog in front of my face and I yell out drills to the guys. Dressed in my jersey and pads, I’d been going through the exercises with them—so much for hanging out on the sidelines—but now I’m standing back to look for weaknesses and strengths in the line. I get that Coach is taking a big risk, and his ass will be on the line if anyone files an official complaint, so I’m doing my best to make his team great again, and keep as low of a profile as I can. I owe him that.