ALoveSoDeep

by Lili Valente

  “I love your cock,” I whisper, moaning as he rocks forward, grinding against me, intensifying the throbbing between my legs. “I can’t wait to get my tongue on you again. I want to taste every inch of you.”

  “Not today,” he says, kissing his way across my shoulder as his fingers tease my nipples, making me cry out from the combined erotic friction of his touch, and my sensitive skin rubbing against the sheets. “Today, I’m going to pin you to this bed and fuck you until you know that you are mine, and I am yours, and nothing will ever come between us again.”

  “Yes.” I reach back, digging my fingernails into the thick muscles of his ass, pulling him closer.

  “God, Caitlin.” He groans as I arch my back even farther, in what I hope is a clear invitation. “You drive me crazy.” His teeth nip into my shoulder while one of his hands slides down to tease my clit in gentle circles.

  My blood pressure spikes so fast my head spins. “Fuck me, Gabe,” I beg as I wiggle my hips against him. “Don’t make me wait. I need you.”

  “I need you, too,” he says, fingers moving in firmer circles against my swollen nub, bringing me within seconds of tumbling over. “Let me get a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill,” I say, hooking my feet around his ankles and holding him captive, certain I’ll die if I’m deprived of the feel of his body for even a second. “I’m on the pill, it’s okay. I want to feel your bare—”

  My words end in a cry of satisfaction as he shifts his hips, finding my slick center with the blunt head of his cock and driving inside. With my legs together, it’s a tighter fit than usual. Gabe has to force his way through the resistance, and for a moment it hurts, but then he is buried in my body, his hard length encased inside my heat, and it is pure bliss.

  Bliss made all the sweeter because of that moment of pain.

  It’s like me and Gabe, I realize as he pulls back and drives home again, making my entire body sing. The pain of losing him has made this second chance even more precious and beautiful. What we have is sacred, a bond forged by pain and pleasure, suffering and passion, and Gabe is right—nothing will tear us apart again. This is forever, for keeps, for the rest of our lives, no matter what the future holds.

  “You’re mine,” I breathe, shoving back against him, wanting more of him, all of him.

  “And you are mine,” Gabe growls against my neck as he rides me harder, deeper, until every cell in my body is electrified with pleasure, and I’m squirming beneath him, so close my blood rockets through my veins.

  His fingers are still busy between my legs and at my left breast, sending shockwaves of pleasure zipping from my head to my toes and back again, threatening to short-circuit my nerve endings. I’m not sure my body can handle the orgasm building to a fierce crescendo inside of me, but then Gabe shoves home one last time—coming so hard his cock jerks inside me—and my own release hits with enough force to take my breath away.

  I explode like a firework painting the sky, like a bomb filled with flower petals showering the world with color, happiness, and hope. I come laughing and crying, clinging to Gabe’s arm, and biting down on my bottom lip so hard it hurts, which for some reason makes me start laughing all over again.

  “You okay?” Gabe kisses my cheek, his tongue slipping out to lap away one of my tears.

  “Happy tears,” I say, my voice trembling in the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

  “Tasted like a happy tear.” He bands his arms around my chest, hugging me tight. “I love the tattoo, by the way. It’s stunning.”

  I smile. “We were going to get matching tattoos, remember?”

  “I remember. Dandelion flowers, with the seeds blowing away, off in different directions, but from the same source.” He kisses the place where my flower bends across my shoulder. “But I think I’ll get something different once we’re settled.”

  “Dandelions not good enough for you?” I turn my head and he shifts to rest his face on the pillow beside mine, though his body stays buried inside me, exactly where I want him to be.

  “I was thinking about Shakespeare’s ‘Sonnet 116,’ ” he says, his eyelids droopy with pleasure. “ ‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests, and is never shaken.’ ” He brushes his knuckles gently across my cheek. “It reminds me of you.”

  I sigh as I bring my finger to trace the outline of his lips. “If I tell you you’re romantic again, will you have to fuck me from behind to show how tough you are?”

  He grins a wicked grin. “Maybe.”

  I see his wicked grin, and raise him a wink. “You are the most romantic man, and I love that you can quote poetry, and want it tattooed on your body.”

  “Now you’ve done it,” he says in mock anger, making me giggle. “I’m going to show you what poetry-quoting men are made of.”

  “Sunshine and rose petals?”

  “Piss and vinegar,” he corrects. “And blood and sweat and pain…” He pauses, reaching out to twine my hair around his finger. “And locks of hair, from the only girl they ever loved.”

  My smile softens, and suddenly, my decision is made. “Let’s do it. Let’s leave tonight.”

  Gabe kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll book the flights as soon as I have the names on our new passports. But first, you and I need to do a photo shoot.”

  We get up and get dressed. Gabe takes my picture against the cream wall in the bathroom, before I take my turn, standing on top of an overturned trashcan so that I’ll be tall enough to get a shot of him straight on. He sends the images to his contact, and gets an email back within a few minutes, saying that the documents will be ready later this afternoon. Gabe arranges to meet the man at Harry’s diner at five o’clock with the money and gets the new names and birthdays for the plane tickets.

  I sit on his lap as we book an eleven o’clock flight out of Charleston to Frankfurt, and then on to Pula, Croatia, where we’ll rent a car to drive to the beach town of Porec. The flights are over a thousand dollars each, and when Gabe hits purchase, my stomach lurches.

  “You just dropped eight thousand dollars on plane tickets” I say, still feeling queasy.

  “It’s only money,” he says. “Speaking of, I need to get going. Kimmy has a friend who wants to buy the Beamer for ten grand. She’s going to pick me up a few streets over in about ten minutes.”

  I frown. “Isn’t that a lot less than it’s worth?”

  “It is.” He shrugs. “But it’s cash and it will be good to have some on hand while we’re getting settled. And it’s not like I can take the car with me.” He stands, setting me on my feet. “Get the kids packed. I’ll be back before dinner.”

  “Be careful, okay?” I hug him tight.

  “You too,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Try to lay low, but call me if there are any developments. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  With one last squeeze, I reluctantly set him free. “I don’t like the idea of being apart, even for a few hours.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” he says, backing toward the door. “We’re almost home free, beautiful. Just hang on a little longer.”

  I smile as I watch him go, but when the door closes behind him, I can’t help feeling like I’m never going to see him again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Caitlin

  I stay busy for the next few hours—showering and changing into soft gray running shorts, and a black tee shirt, packing up the kids’ backpacks, talking the boys through the plan, and arguing with Danny, who doesn’t want to move to another country without at least getting to say goodbye to Sam in person—but I can’t shake the sense of impending doom. When five-thirty comes and goes without a word from Gabe, I finally get so worried I pick up the phone.

  My call is sent immediately to voicemail, but I try not to freak out. Gabe’s contact might have been late to meet him at
the diner; they might still be in the middle of their exchange. There is probably some reasonable explanation for the delay.

  I believe that, until the digital clock above the stove flicks to six, and three more calls go straight to voicemail. I’m about to tell Sherry that I’m going looking for Gabe, when my cell rings. I snatch it up from the counter where the kids are eating a subdued spaghetti dinner, my pulse racing with relief, only for my hopes to plummet when I see an unfamiliar number on the display.

  It’s not Gabe, but it’s a local number, so I step into the bedroom and answer the call with a soft, “This is Caitlin.”

  “Hi, Caitlin,” a familiar voice says. “This is Kimmy.”

  “Oh, hi Kimmy,” I say, surprised. “What’s up?”

  “Listen, I know we’re not friends or anything, but I didn’t know who else to call, and Gabe left your number the other day with the keys, just in case there was an emergency with the car, and—”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, the anxiety in Kimmy’s voice making me impatient. “Is Gabe okay? Did something go wrong while you were selling the car?”

  “No, that went fine,” Kimmy says. “We got everything taken care of, he got the money, and he went across the street to Harry’s to meet a friend. I didn’t expect to see him again, but then I realized he’d left his house key in the bowl by the door. I ran down to catch him before he left and I saw him leaving the diner with this super big guy. They were walking really close together and it just looked…weird, you know? And when I called Gabe’s name, he didn’t stop or turn around, and I know he had to have heard me. I was practically shouting.”

  “What did the guy look like?” I chew my thumbnail as I pace the carpet, fear that Gabe’s father has intercepted him and forced him back to Darby Hill making my heart feel like it’s punching my ribs. “Was he Gabe’s height? An older man, with—”

  “No, he was young,” Kimmy says. “And taller and heavier than Gabe, with wider shoulders. I remember that, because you don’t see many men bigger than Gabe.”

  Young, broad shoulders, bigger than Gabe….

  A horrible suspicion sweeps through me, but I don’t want to believe it’s true. Still, I ask, “Did the man have light brown hair, a little curly at the bottom?”

  “Yes,” Kimmy says, sounding relieved, though she has absolutely no reason to be. “Do you know him? Are he and Gabe friends?”

  “What time did this happen?” I ignore her questions, knowing I don’t have time to explain. There’s a chance another massive guy with hair like Isaac’s decided to take a close walk with Gabe out of the diner, but my gut says that’s pretty unlikely.

  “About an hour ago? Maybe a little less?”

  “And you’re just calling me now?” I ask, anger tightening my voice.

  “It took me a while to get worried,” Kimmy says, defensively. “And then I had to get up the guts to call you. It wasn’t easy, okay. You are the woman he dumped me for.”

  I take a deep breath and rein in my temper. It’s not Kimmy’s fault something’s happened to Gabe, and without her I might not have any clue where he is. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Can you tell me anything else? What direction they went? If they got into a car?”

  Kimmy sighs. “They were walking down the street toward The Neptune and turned left on Mark Street, headed away from downtown. That’s all I know.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll see if I can track him down.”

  “Do you need any help? I could take my car and cruise one side of town while you cruise another.”

  “That’s okay.” I don’t know what kind of situation I’ll find, and I don’t want Kimmy in the middle of something that might turn ugly. “But thanks. I appreciate the call.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says, then adds, “and let me know when you find him, will you? I’d like to know he’s okay.”

  I promise to call her, hang up, and immediately call Isaac. But despite the fact that he’s been leaving me angsty messages on and off for the past two days, Isaac doesn’t pick up the phone, and when I’m transferred to voicemail, I get a message that his inbox is full. I hang up with a curse and stab out a quick text, telling Isaac to call me as soon as he gets my message. I tell him that I know he’s in town, but I don’t say anything about Gabe, not wanting to tip my hand on that just yet.

  I send the text, and wait a few moments, but there are no happy “text in progress” bubbles from my ex-boyfriend. He seems to be lying low.

  Or maybe he’s too busy beating the shit out of Gabe to answer the phone.

  The thought makes me shove my phone into the back pocket of my shorts and jog back into the other room. I tell the kids that I’m going out, and ask them to be good for Sherry, then pull Sherry aside long enough to explain where I’m going, and why.

  “But what about the flight tonight?” she asks. “Should I still get the kids ready to go?”

  I bite my lip, making the call on the spur of the moment. “Yes. If I’m not back by eight o’clock, call a cab to take everyone to the airport. Hopefully, Gabe and I will meet you there. If I get stuck, and won’t be able to make it, and I’m able to call, I will.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be able to call?” Sherry asks, skin paling beneath her freckles. “You don’t think Isaac has gone off the deep end, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” I don’t want to scare her, but I want someone to know who might be responsible if I were to disappear along with Gabe. “But I’m going to be careful.”

  Sherry nods. “Do that. Be very careful, and call me as soon as you can.”

  “Will do.” I lean in, giving her an impulsive hug. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Go get your man,” Sherry says, hugging me back. “And let’s get you all on a plane before Aoife comes sniffing around and realizes you’re making plans to flee the country.”

  I told Sherry that the custody battle was the reason Gabe and I had decided to make the spur of the moment, international move. Because Sherry is my friend and knows I love Emmie like a daughter, she didn’t doubt the story.

  Still, I’m starting to feel all the lies I’ve told piling up around me, like concrete blocks stacked to the ceiling, ready to crash down and deliver life-threatening injuries. I need to get out of Giffney. I need to get to safety with Gabe and the kids, to a place where we can start fresh, and then maybe I can tell Sherry the truth. I want to be honest with the only friend I have left, but right now isn’t the time.

  “Call soon,” I promise, pulling away and starting toward the door, grabbing the keys off the counter as I go.

  Minutes later, I’m in the parking lot, heading for the rental van, so focused on puzzling out where Isaac might have taken Gabe that I don’t notice the silver Camry parked a few spots away until my sister steps out and slams the door. I increase my speed, hoping to get into the van and out of the parking lot before Aoife can trap me, but she moves fast for a pregnant woman.

  She’s by my side by the time I reach the door, covering my hand with hers.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Caitlin

  “And each man stands with his face in the light of his own drawn sword.

  Ready to do what a hero can.”

  -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  “We have to talk.” Aoife’s voice is low, urgent, and her grip on my hand firm enough to make it obvious she hasn’t come here to mess around.

  “I don’t have time right now.” I try to pull my hand free, but Aoife doesn’t let go. Her fingers dig into mine as she steps closer, until I can smell her gardenia perfume, the same brand she’s worn since we were little girls, and Gram gave her a bottle for her birthday.

  The smell sends melancholy oozing through my chest. What would Gram think of us now? The little girls she always said were like two angels fallen from heaven, we were both so beautiful and sweet.

  “You need to make time,” Aoife says. “Gabe’s dad came to the funeral today.”

  “I know.” I lift my chin, m
eeting her hard gaze straight on, playing tough, though my pulse is pounding with fear.

  “He asked me to stop by his office after we finished at the gravesite,” she says, her grip still firm on my hand. “He said he wanted to give me something that would make sure I got full custody of Emmie.”

  I tighten my jaw, willing my expression not to falter. “And? Did he?”

  “He did,” she says, her own expression unreadable. “He showed me footage of you breaking into someone’s house. At first I couldn’t be sure it was you, but the person who was filming followed the van and caught you taking off your mask.”

  I close my eyes, not wanting Aoife to see me crumble. This is what Gabe and I were afraid of, this is why we were getting ready to run. But fearing something, and having the hard evidence shoved in your face, are two very different things, and it suddenly feels like all those concrete blocks are tumbling down on top of me, after all.

  “He had a private detective following you and Gabe,” Aoife continues. “He caught you breaking into two different houses, but Aaron cut all the footage of Gabe out on the DVD he gave to me. He told me to use it to blackmail you into giving up Emmie. He doesn’t want this going to court because he knows you might testify that Gabe was your partner.”

  I open my eyes, confused by the compassionate note in my sister’s voice. “So…are you going to blackmail me? Is that why you’re here?”

  Aoife’s fingers tighten, until her grip on my hand is almost painful. “Aaron Alexander told me today that you are the reason his son started committing crimes, but I know that’s not true.”

  “You do?” I squint into the sun turning my sister’s hair into a golden halo, trying to get a better look at her face. I would swear she looks upset, but I have no idea why. This is exactly what she wanted, handed to her on a silver platter.