by Kara Liane
***
Caleb
Liz’s hands are running up and down my pectorals as she’s straddling my lap. We’re on my bed, and I’m witnessing the most erotic show I’ve ever seen. I feel like a fucking ringmaster trying to tame my cougar. You have ringside seats along with me for this wild ride. But if a clown pops out from somewhere, then I’m out—those fuckers terrify me!
Anyway, let’s get back on track here. Her eyes are hungry, and mine are just as greedy and eager as I stare at her body, imagining what I’m going to do to her. I can smell the floral scent on her skin, and the sweet honey between her legs. She still has her panties on, so it’s such a tease not being able to freely rub up against her most sensitive, luscious flesh.
She’s torturing me. My dick is hanging out, bare of course, because I’m naked as a jaybird. The big fella is standing tall and proud, waiting for her to slide down and sheath me all the way to the base—whether it be her mouth or pussy, it doesn’t matter, because both are equally a slice of wet heaven.
I palm her beautiful creamy tits, and she throws her head back while the blonde strands cascade behind her. She arches, and her chest juts forward as an offering to keep me stroking what is mine. Her moans are fueling my desires, and I pinch her pretty pink nipples. She responds so deliciously as her thighs clench more tightly around my middle, trapping me to her. Don’t worry, my vivacious temptress, I’m not going anywhere.
The head of my cock is pulsing because it needs to be buried deep in one of her tight, silky, soaked holes. I wonder if her body aches for me as much as I ache for her. I wanted to take things slowly our first time, but I can’t help myself. She makes me lose my damn mind!
She leans forward and places her hands on my shoulders to brace herself. Her hair brushes my chest, and it tickles me in a sensual way that has goose pimples breaking out on my arms. Her touch sends shockwaves up and down my body. Then she lowers her face to mine and kisses the hell out of me. I slide one of my hands in her hair to anchor her. With the other arm, I hold her tightly by pulling her in at the shoulders.
This hypnotic dance we’re doing with our tongues is probably among the sexiest things I’ve ever done. Hell, anything we do ranks up there as the sexiest thing I’ve ever done! I can’t wait to take her from behind—now I’m probably getting ahead of myself.
For the record, of course I like to look at the woman during sex, and it’s not a control thing that my favorite position is from behind. As a man, I’m like most of my peers and consider myself mostly a visual creature, so the front of a woman is the preferred view. But there’s something about bending a woman over the bed, a couch, or any surface for that matter. It unleashes my inner animal. My lion can certainly spar with her cougar, especially since he needs to be let out of his cage.
We finally come up for air, sucking in what feels like endless gulps of breath. My lungs are burning and starved, but the burn in my heart for her takes precedence. She sits back again on my thighs and hooks her thumbs into her lacy black panties. I’m drooling at the sight as she slowly exposes inch by inch of her delectable skin to me.
I start to see her neatly trimmed pubic hair come into view, and it’s a shade darker than the blonde on her head. I can’t tear my gaze away. She’s about to pull them completely down so I can finally see her pussy lips and taste and touch the inside of her. But she stops right before the final unveiling.
“Is everything okay?” I ask with great concern, thinking I did something wrong.
“No, sorry it’s not you. It’s just…I don’t like William watching,” she explains.
I’m so confused at first. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and that’s when I feel like we’re not alone. I turn my head to the left, and right there in the doorway stands her ex.
What the fuck?
***
I wake with the biggest jolt of my life. I sit up so fast on my bed that I practically fly out of my skin. That was the craziest, most fucked up, creepiest dream I’ve ever experienced. It was fucking glorious at first and then at the end turned to shit.
I never even met the man and yet I had a vivid picture of him in my mind. I’m sweaty and breathing heavily, almost like I’ve run a marathon. I don’t know where that nightmare came from. One minute I’m in paradise, and the next minute I’m in Hades.
Very bizarre. And it has me wondering if something is looming…. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs.
I thought after seeing my horoscope today, it was going to be a turning point. Thinking back to reading the words on the damn screen this morning, I was supposed to “dream up new opportunities.” So what the fuck was that, then?
I throw the covers off me and get up from my bed, heading into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Sitting on my counter, wrapped up, are the last two cookies from the batch we made last night. I wonder if those damn cookies can chase the darkness away, so I pull them out of the cellophane. I glance at the clock on my stove, realizing it’s nearing midnight. I’ve only been asleep for less than two hours, so it must have been a deep sleep up until the nightmare occurred. I don’t want to think too much into what I dreamt about, but on some level I feel I have to analyze it.
I can’t decide if her ex is a threat to me because she can’t let go of him, or if the threat is more to her because she wants to let go of him. The mind is a funny thing, and I don’t want to discount what my brain was trying to assemble even in my sleep.
I don’t want his presence—or, rather, death—to always be hanging over us somehow. Liz deserves a fresh start.
It makes me wonder if she’s haunted by something other than her ex. Perhaps a secret of some sort?
I hope as I get to know her better, she’ll open up to me more. It feels like this dream was a warning of sorts. I certainly can’t fix her past, but I’ll do my best to mend the current situation, and ensure the future has the best chance of never coming unraveled.
I eat the two cookies, which bring me some comfort; they infuse me with a taste of her. I get a quick drink of water to wash it down, then I place my cup in the sink. I walk back into my room and lie down in the bed once more. My eyes have easily adjusted to the dark, so I stare at the painting on my wall. I focus on it until my eyes become heavy and sleep begins to take me again. I tell myself, I’m not going to have any more crazy-ass dreams tonight.
I wish Liz were here so I could hold her. I’m man enough to admit that sometimes it’s nice to have that reciprocal comfort from a woman. I want her in my bed every night where we can watch over each other—she’d be my dreamcatcher.
“Goodnight, sweetness,” I say to my empty room. And for good measure I tack on, “Sweet dreams.”
Yeah, first horoscopes, now superstitions, ha! Don’t worry, I realize I’m a unique breed all on my own, but hey, that’s the Caleb Daniels way.
Chapter 11: Make the Call
Liezel
It’s been three days since I replied to his text. He hasn’t made any attempt to reach out to me. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad sign. I clearly left it with him that I’d let him know when we’d get together next, so it’s really my move to make.
I just got home from work and from picking up Leah at basketball practice. I love that she’s girly when she wants to be, and she’s also very athletic. She’ll be a force to be reckoned with as she gets older. I expect boys will be beating down my door, and I’ll gladly chase them away. I’ll show the boys one of my needles I use on patients, and I bet they’ll run for the hills, I laugh out loud as I think about the possibilities—come on people, it’s no different than a daddy threatening male suitors with a shotgun!
I walk into my bedroom and set my phone down on my dresser as I’m stripping out of my scrubs. It’s the first thing I do when I get in from work. I hate bringing germs home to my family, plus I need to rip off my bra and let the girls be free. There’s nothing more amazing than that feeling of letting them loose. I swear as soon as that damn contraption comes off, I can h
ear “Roar,” by Katy Perry playing in the background like it’s my anthem.
That bra bitch gets tossed in the corner of my room like I loathe it, and I slip on comfy sweatpants and a T-shirt. As I’m throwing my hair up in a messy bun, my phone rings. Hoping it’s from Caleb, I go to answer it, nearly lunging at my cell. When I look at the screen, I see it’s Caylan calling. I’m smiling as I swipe to take her call—I love this girl.
Before I can even say hello, she jumps in and starts on me. But let me tell you, she is the sweetest thing, so even her mean side is like a puppy barking. The girl can’t do mean.
“You’re driving that poor man crazy, you know that?” She scolds, and I think it’s a rhetorical question.
“Well, hello to you too,” I laugh.
“Sorry, but that poor man has got it bad, and I hate to see one of my dear friends in distress, knowing full well I can do something to fix it,” she explains and sighs in a cute way into the phone.
“Okay, what’s the issue, and who are we talking about here?” I ask, half-laughing at her display of pouting that I can practically see through the phone.
She scoffs and says, “Caleb, of course! Please put him out of his misery and call him. He keeps calling and texting Alexi to see how you’re doing. I think Alexi has talked to him more than he’s talked to me in the last few days.”
I don’t even know how to respond. I’m shocked and almost drop my cell from my shaking hand. I had no idea I had this level of an impact on him. The fact that our little thing we have going on is now trickling over to our friends makes me feel guilty. I bite my lower lip in shame.
“Caylan…I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d give it a few days because I don’t want to start something when I don’t have my crap together. He deserves someone who’s going to fully commit to him. It’s intense when I’m with him, and I don’t want to string him along when I keep doubting myself,” I try to convey, but I’m probably failing miserably because it sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.
“Oh, sweetie, you deserve him, and he deserves you! It’s one thing if you’re not into him, but it’s another thing if you are and don’t take a chance. I’ve never seen him like this over a woman. He’s so caring and so attentive. He’s the perfect catch! I know he’ll treat you like a queen. Let me just ask you flat out, do you like him or not?” She asks, and I picture her batting her eyelashes at me.
“Yes, I do, but it’s not that simple,” I whisper.
“Oh, yes, it is, if I have anything to say about it.” She tries to be stern, but it’s so innocent-sounding.
“I think I’m too old for him,” I admit, and I’m immediately embarrassed and slap my forehead; yup, I totally face-palmed on that one.
“You’re not too old for him! First of all, you’re hot. Own it! Second, oh goodness gracious, I’m going to get myself in a pickle by saying this, but, oh well. Alexi can spank me later for revealing this,” she giggles.
I roll my eyes because those two make you sick. It’s no secret they’re too hot to handle in the bedroom. Caylan comes off as this shy, doe-eyed little thing, but I know better than that when it comes to their sex life.
She goes on to say, “Caleb’s into cougars. Not that I’m calling you one; I’m just saying that’s like his thing. I’m surprised you’ve never noticed. Anyway, I hope it’s a good thing in your case. Believe me, he’s all kinds of twisted over you.”
I am by no means offended, just genuinely surprised. I had no idea. I never really noticed. Whenever we’ve been at the same functions, he’s always so friendly and personable. I’ve always seen him talk to women of all ages. I usually think I’m observant, so how did I miss this?
“Sweetie, you still there?” She asks in a panic.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking. No, I’ve never noticed this detail. I wouldn’t consider it a bad thing, I suppose. I mean, I guess I’m technically a cougar. I only thought a hot, young man like him would want someone like you,” I admit.
“You mean knocked up and crabby?” She questions in laughter.
I chuckle back at her statement because I guess I walked into that one. She’s so adorable. With her being so young and gorgeous, I consider her the stereotypical girl most men Caleb’s age—or any age, for that matter—would go for.
When I left Rhode Island all those years ago, I told myself not to revisit the past. Ever since William’s funeral and his parents’ visit, I feel like there’s something impending. I can’t tell anyone there’s something haunting me…like unfinished business. Caylan is my friend—hell, she’s my family now—but I don’t want anyone thinking differently about me.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to share that part of myself—that history—with anyone.
And I know I can’t worry about what people think, yet I do, mainly because I don’t want my kids to be subjected to ridicule.
“Don’t you think Caleb and I are moving too fast? Nothing’s happened between us, but don’t you think I’m being selfish?” I practically whine at her.
She gasps, “Selfish? Is that what you think? Liz, you couldn’t be selfish if you tried. Besides, why does there have to be a timeline put on this thing between you two? Who’s making the rules? If it’s outsiders, then to heck with them!” She hits me with rapid-fire questions I can’t answer.
“I’m being silly, aren’t I?” I ask more to myself than to her. I’m pacing my bedroom like a dog at the pound, not sure what my head and heart want.
“Do ya really want me to answer that? Because you know me and my happy endings. I’m totally going to make this happen, woman! I helped Brent, and I’m sure as heck going to help you. Plus, I must confess that, selfishly, I want my husband back,” she explains, then goes off into a fit of giggles.
“That’s understandable. I’m sorry for all this. I promise to call Caleb. I can’t promise that we’ll have a future together, but I will keep an open mind and see where this goes. I have so many things to factor in between William’s passing, the kids, my reservations about jumping into a relationship. Ya know, the important shit!” I clarify while shrugging a shoulder I know she can’t see.
“I understand. I know I may not know, but I do get it. Take all the time you need to heal, but try to keep yourself open to possibilities. Caleb’s a good listener and the greatest friend. They don’t make’em like they used to. I know no matter what happens, you’ve got a lifer with him in whatever capacity that’ll be,” she relays in a sincere tone.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I know you’re trying to help. You and Alexi have been in my corner through everything, and that means more than you’ll ever realize,” I respond with the beginning stage of waterworks forming in my eyes. I won’t let them fall, though.
“Okay, now that the heavy stuff is outta the way, have you given any more thought to my suggestion of writing? I know journaling and poetry helped me in my darkest times. Maybe it will be therapeutic for you,” she suggests.
“Yes, I have thought about it, but I haven’t done it. Tonight may be the night. Thanks for reminding me,” I reply.
“Anytime, lovely! Well, I’ll let you go. I can hear Em running around downstairs. That kid just learned how to walk—basically overnight, no less—and suddenly she’s an expert at it. How will I survive having another one?” She partly groans, amused by her own insight.
“You’ll manage. My three were close in age, and it’s a lot of work, but I know you’ll tackle it like you do anything else. Give a kiss to Em for me, and we’ll make plans to get together soon for lunch,” I offer.
“Oh, that would be perfect,” she squeals.
I laugh and say, “All righty, I’ll talk to you later and…I’ll call Caleb soon.”
“You better!” She threatens in the sugary way only she can deliver.
We both say our final goodbyes and end the call. I pull out the front drawer of my nightstand, and tucked inside is a notebook. I grab it from its hiding place, deciding at this mo
ment I will heed Caylan’s advice and write a little. It may be good to get my feelings out.
I start jotting words down on the paper, but then scribble them out because I deem that they suck. Nothing I write down sounds like I’m even trying. I need to properly articulate my feelings by expressing my emotions. I guess I’ve been lying to myself in thinking I’ve been handling this whole William situation well.
And then it hits me! I need lies more than I need the truth when it comes to him—not so much a denial thing, more like a realization of sorts. My hand starts flying across the page, and before I know it, I’ve written out a poem. Is this how Caylan does it? I decide to read it back.
Title: Love Lies
Lie to me,
I’m begging please,
Lie to me, lie.
Cause the truth, it hurts,
It’s so much worse,
Lie to me, lie.
I need the words,
Just stay the course,
Lie to me, lie.
My heart is there,
It’s just not fair,
Lie to me, lie.
I run from truth,
I promise you,
Lie to me, lie.
I just can’t hear,
My biggest fear,
Lie to me, lie.
So just lie to me, lie…please lie to me, lie.
The words hurt too much as they hit me square in the face. I start to cry. Maybe this writing thing wasn’t such a good idea.
***
I finally collect myself after a good cry. Thank God the kids didn’t come in search of me. The boys usually get rides home from school from friends and then go to their houses to hang out and do homework; I don’t think they’re home yet, only Leah. I’m lucky that I never have to worry about my kids getting into trouble. They have wonderful friends who are like-minded, with parents possessing good morals and values.