No secrets.
No restrictions.
***
WALKER
Walker’s internal alarms were deafening. Alone, with Erika? Shit, not a good position for him to be in, he mused, not fucking good at all. His imagination boarded the rocket of his desire and it was hard to control once it hit warp speed. It was all he could do not to step up between her thighs as she sat on the bar stool, cup her naturally bronzed cheeks, and kiss her until she agreed to be his—forever. He would marry her right then and there if she were game. Who was he kidding, he’d do a helluva lot more than that if she wanted.
Anything.
Everything.
If she'd just say she was his.
Well, that line of thought was doing nothing more than torturing his already-battered heart and resolve, and teasing his cock with what would never be…so…time to call it a night. He would get in a shower session, he sure as hell needed one, then go to bed alone for a few hours of fitful sleep, and maybe be able to function another day without her.
Yep, time to get the hell out of Dodge, he thought. Leaning in with his hand at the small of her back, he kissed her cheek, not exactly the target he wanted, but it was the only contact he allowed himself.
Setting his empty soda glass on the bar, he delivered the most sincere good night he could, “Well beautiful, I've got to be heading out. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” Walker dreaded pulling away from her, missed her the moment he broke out of her personal space bubble. "No rest for the wicked and all that. Have fun gorgeous. See you next weekend?"
Erika spun and set her half-full glass down next to his empty, hopped off the stool, and plucked her purse off the bar. “I'll ride back with you. I'm not staying, especially since The Dick is here.”
Erika rolled her eyes, and retrieved her half-full glass off the bar, downing it in one gulp, and then slammed it back onto the polished wood surface.
Walker wondered what was going through that pretty head of hers that she needed to down a drink like a champ. The next words out of her sexy mouth answered that question.
“Besides, I want to chat with you about something if you're cool with that?”
Walker's heart stalled in his chest. What the hell could she need to talk to him about that made her slam a drink? In all their weekends together, he'd never seen her well and truly blitzed, nothing more than pleasantly buzzed. Tonight, she'd been drinking fairly steadily, and the hard stuff too. No way he was letting her drive home. He'd have to endure more time in her orbit. Trapped in an enclosed space without touching her, kissing her, making love to her, would be the fifth level of hell. "Come on beautiful, your chariot awaits. Well, your canoe at any rate." Leading her to the ferry, Walker realized this was going to be a more-than-one-shower-session kind of night.
CHAPTER TWO
WALKER
Walker helped a tipsy Erika into the ferry. She sat rather ungracefully on the very back bench. Even flopping down in the back of—for all intents and purposes—a canoe with a motor and a decrepit old man operating it, she was still adorable as hell.
Could she look bad if she tried? he wondered. Walker damn sure hadn’t seen it if she did. Last year, when she had the flu, he stayed at her place and played nursemaid for four days straight while she puked her guts out and burned with fever. She may have looked sick and smelled like shit, but she was still fucking beautiful to him.
Man, he had a bad case of it.
Walker noticed an errant strand of her hair escaped the headband she wore and gawked as she scrunched up her face to blow it out of her eyes. He took a mental snapshot and stepped into the boat. That was going in the spank bank.
“Middle seat’s broken, you’ll have to sit on the cooler in front of your lady friend there,” the operator barked.
Crossbones ran the big ferry that transported people to and from the boat, but it only ran on a limited schedule. If you wanted to depart or arrive other than that, you had to take one of the private “ferries.” They were a mismatched fleet of out-of-work fishermen and anyone with a canoe and insurance.
With an internal groan, Walker planted his ass on the round orange cooler practically between her delicious thighs. If he thought the ride home would be long, this canoe trip was going to be eternal with her warm breath ghosting across the nape of his neck and her sweet heat penetrating his clothing to scorch his back.
Walker’s leg was bouncing so much it created almost surfable waves in the bay. Erika’s thighs gingerly brushed his ribs, and he closed his eyes on a silent curse as the majority of his blood supply abandoned primary organs to end up in the front of his jeans. Deciding he couldn’t endure the ride to her place too, he phoned for a cab to take her home. Yep, he was fucking dick, but it was about survival for him at that point.
As they set off toward the shore, Walker felt her breasts brush his back. He knew it was wrong, but he covertly leaned back into her fleshy globes in silent appreciation. At that moment, he lost his head and his focus narrowed on how he could possibly feel more of her luscious tits. Removing his jacket, he pivoted on the makeshift seat to wrap it around her all-but-bare shoulders. “Here hon, you’re too cold.” He chanced a glance at her chest and she was indeed cold, and not wearing a bra. Click, another mental snapshot to add to the pile.
And he was an asshole; at least he felt like one.
But, an asshole who was going to lean back and feel her incredible tits through the thin barrier of his t-shirt only, instead of the thick leather of his jacket.
God, I am pathetic.
“Thanks.” She leaned in as he turned and caught him on the cheek for a chaste kiss. As her lips met his skin, the boat motor stalled, and the vessel jerked, pushing her breast into his arm. He groaned at the sensation of her hardened nipple rasping across his bicep, just below his sleeve.
One layer—that was all that separated their skin—and it was intoxicating.
He was a split second from spinning around and begging her to come home with him, make love to him, marry him, when the old man announced he’d have to paddle them the rest of the way.
Oh great, more time to dream about her boobs, among other things.
Then all thought took an Exodus from his brain when he felt her soft lips on his neck.
***
ERIKA
Erika decided now was as good a time as any to make a move, to let Walker know she was interested. Once she determined if her feelings were reciprocated, she would tell all and hope they had a future together. She was ready for children with a man she loved, and she had known for years Walker was the only man she’d ever have them with. If he didn’t feel the same way, she would somehow move on with her barren life. No children, no husband, no picket fence, just a flavorless existence of going through the required motions necessary to sustain life, but not really feeling alive.
The rest of her well thought out plan was already in place. While she had initially just planned on taking two months leave from work, she had ultimately decided to quit once that paid time was finished. She wanted a new career that focused more on her marketing expertise than bikinis and sunblock, she just hadn’t told anyone yet, having planned to wait until after she returned from her trip to North Dakota. She promised herself she wouldn’t allow her choice of a new career to distance her from her friends, but if Walker rejected her, she didn’t believe she could keep that promise.
Erika took a deep breath and tried to speak, but no sound came out. The hours spent practicing what to say did her no good.
Zero.
Zilch.
Her fear of rejection locked down her words.
But she was more of a doer anyway, especially when fueled with the appropriate liquid fortification. Closing her mouth on the frozen words, she placed her hands on his sides, leaned forward, and traced the Celtic tattoo on the back of his neck with her tongue.
He tasted like her happily ever after.
Her tongue relayed his reaction to her quicker than her eyes cou
ld have. The stiffening of his body snapping to attention as he leaned forward enough to leave her tongue licking the air told her she’d erred. He wasn’t interested. He couldn’t get her mouth off him fast enough.
As her heart shriveled and died, she pulled her wayward tongue back into her mouth, and choked on her crushed dreams and unrequited love.
“Erika, what are you doing?”
Five words in a voice she didn’t recognize from Walker’s mouth were like daggers to her heart. She caught herself glancing down at the worn wood surface beneath her feet, searching for her life’s blood there pooling in the canoe. The cuts so deep, the pain so real, she actually expected to see it glistening under the moonlight.
“Apparently making a complete and utter fool of myself,” she answered in a hushed tone as she tried to dislodge his hands, holding hers hostage at his flanks. Her heart was breaking, and he was making it worse by touching her.
Choking on a sob she uttered, “I’m really sorry Walker, I was hoping that…you…and I…I mean we…never mind. Forget it, it was a mistake and it’ll never happen again. I’m sorry. I just hope you don’t feel weird about me now and let this destroy our friendship. I’m mature enough to handle rejection.”
She was babbling and she knew it, but she couldn’t dislodge his hands, and she was dying inside, his touch only slowed the reaper and prolonged the agony. She needed away from him ASAP.
***
WALKER
Without moving anything other than his arms, Walker reached up and grabbed her hands, currently resting deliciously on his ribs.
“Erika, what are you doing?”
Holy shit, did that Peter Brady puberty change voice come from his mouth?
It freaking did, what fucking unholy power does she have over me?
Hope soared the moment he felt the heat of her hands through his tee at his sides and the wetness of her luscious mouth on his neck. His brain, however, wondered if she realized who he was and what she was doing, or was she well and truly thrashed. Even while his body was screaming hell yes, his head was saying it had to be the rum.
Slowly dragging her hands forward around his suddenly-too-alert-muscles to hug him like she was on the back of his bike, he leaned back in slow motion. Returning to her personal space with a sigh of contentment was pure bliss, until she broke the spell.
“I know Walker, I get it, but you can't blame a girl for trying. I had to take a shot. If I didn’t, I’d never forgive myself. I’ve been harboring the smallest of hopes, that if I told you how I feel, you might look past the age thing and give us an honest to goodness shot at a future. But, I have to be real with myself now, there’s no way in hell a guy like you would be attracted to someone like me. I’ve got a few…”
A sharp response and a touch too rough squeezing of her hands was his knee jerk reaction to the nonsense she was spewing. “What in the holy hell? What do you mean someone like you?”
Releasing her hands, he turned on the cooler so fast his motion forced her to lean back. She almost lost her balance and ended up very wet, but he wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.
Caging her legs with his, he cupped her face as gently as he could manage with his shaking hands, but it was still rather harsh. Mind whirling at ninety miles per hour, Walker grasped at fragments of his thoughts. Could she be saying what he thought she was? Was she asking for more than one night, as in a future? Kids, a mortgage, and a freaking dog?
The real question though, was did he have the guts to look her in the eyes? The very ones he saw every night in his dreams. He was terrified, yet hopeful of the answers they held.
There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of this crazy dream he’d been having lately. One where he would jump out of a plane blindfolded but wasn’t sure if he had a parachute on or his Batman backpack from third grade. He never knew until he went to pull the cord. Most nights, he woke up before he reached for it; others, he’d actually open the chute and enjoy the ride. The uncertainty, that fear of the unknown, the terror of free fall, was more unsettling than the thrill of the possibilities. When had he ever felt this sensation in his waking hours?
Shit, never.
Walker Aaron Reid had never been this unsure and panicked about anything in his life. Not when the judge banged the gavel that sealed his fate. Not when he arrived at the prison to serve his time, or even when he walked through the common area of his cell block that day. Hell, not even when he got in his first fight there. He had never felt this way, but then again, the stakes had never been so high for him.
His brain was running so fast, he could barely grab hold of the reigns.
How will I know if it’s a chute or backpack if I don’t reach for that Goddamn cord? Well fuck, I gotta come back down to earth one way or another, might as well try for the chute.
Praying hard it wasn’t that fucking Batman backpack, he reach for the cord.
“Erika darling? Are you asking for what I hope you are? Because I can’t do casual, not with you. Don’t get me wrong…” His hands still on her cheeks, Walker leaned back in appraisal, letting his gaze caress where his hands dare not. With an appreciative head shake and low whistle, he brought his hopeful eyes back to hers and continued. “…I’d fucking love nothing more than making your tight little body contort with pleasure over, and over, and over, but I can’t do that and just walk away. Not from you. If I ever get inside your body, your heart? I’ll move in and make myself at home.”
Reaching down, he grabbed her right hand with both of his. Bringing it to his lips for a lingering kiss overflowing with his hope, dreams and promises, it was time to let it rip. Taking a fortifying breath, he crushed that hand to his left pec, holding it captive there with his own. “The way you moved into mine a long time ago.”
She appeared to be stunned silent. He couldn’t tell if it was a good stunned or a bad stunned. The water noise muted. The sound of the paddle cutting through the surface disappeared. The only soundtrack to this moment was Erika's breath sawing in and out in slow repetition.
One breath.
Two.
Three.
Time stood still as Walker was in free fall awaiting his fate. Would a chute deploy so he could float weightless among the clouds while feeling the skydiver’s rush? Or, would he experience the seemingly endless terror-filled moments as he plummeted to his metaphorical death wearing a Batman backpack instead? The wait was pure hell. A kind of torture even his fellow residents of cell block A hadn’t managed to dole out, and they had tried like hell.
Four.
Five.
Six.
The agony of realizing Erika would never be his started to rip through his body like a hot machete. Walker loosened his grip on Erika’s hand. He didn’t want to, but he had to let it go, let her go.
Speaking his heart was something he wished he could take back now. It was a hell of a lot easier to think something might happen, no matter how far-fetched, than knowing it never would.
Hearing the words “we” and “future” from her mouth made him think “love.” Not the unrequited kind he’s been living with for the better part of the year either. Sure, he’d lusted for her from first sight, but it wasn’t until he admitted to himself he truly loved her that the ache became a daily, agonizing reminder of what could never be. The possibility of her love belonging to him apparently sent his hearing and reasoning capabilities on hiatus, because it was becoming all too obvious he misinterpreted her intentions, and now his heart was being pulverized under the wreckage of his broken dreams.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
***
ERIKA
Wait. What? Erika could only gape in his direction while obsidian colored eyes stared back with an open honesty that scared the shit out of her. Those eyes held hope, and dare she think it, love?
Did Walker say he loved her, just not in so many words?
Oh shit, he did.
Did he mean as a frie
nd? No, no way would he say those things if he thought of her in that way. He loves her. Walker fucking Reid loves her.
Shock stole her voice as joy flooded her heart. Erika felt the pain rolling off Walker, it was a living, breathing thing. She needed to let him know how she felt, but she couldn’t seem to form words.
For the second time in a matter of minutes, she was struck mute. Tears of happiness streaked her faced while her silent cries of joy lodged in her throat.
NO! Don’t turn away from me, from us. It’s not like that. I feel the same way. Erika wanted to scream these words to him, but she couldn’t make a peep. She tried and tried until finally she was able to speak, barely audible, but hopefully it would be enough.
***
WALKER
A feather soft whisper floated on the briny air, arresting his entire pain-riddled being, both inside and out, as he was turning away from her on his makeshift seat.
“I thought it was just me. I never dreamed, I mean, I hoped…but…I…I just never believed it was a real possibility that you would return my love. I’ve loved you since the first time you smiled…”
Walker spun his trembling body fully back toward her, grabbing her cheeks, his fingers tangled in her hair, the tips meeting at the nape of her neck. Keeping eye contact, he used his hold to bring her face to his, to crush her tear-drenched lips to his in a soul-searing kiss.
A first kiss.
A first kiss that was five years in the making.
A last first kiss.
PARACHUTE! IT’S A FUCKING PARACHUTE.
The feeling of floating on the wind, this close to her sun, was borderline orgasmic.
Walker’s brain shut down when the word “love” drifted past her lips, the perfect lips he was drinking from right now. Gorging himself on her mouth, he couldn’t think, only feel. His life was spinning out of control, and he never wanted to reign it in again.
Indelible You (Imagine Ink) Page 2