by Toler, B N
I smile faintly. “I know. I don’t know why she won’t settle down.”
“Maybe with some time she’ll come around.”
“Maybe.”
Brandon washes the dishes and I dry, putting each dish away as I do. When the dishes are done, he wipes the dinner table while I clean the counters. By the time we’re finished, Antonio is carrying Tia in. Tia lays nestled in his arms, fast asleep.
“Is she okay?” I ask alarmed.
“Yeah. Just too much wine. I’m going to take her to bed.” He carries Tia up the stairs to their bedroom. He’s perfect for her.
“How about a walk on the beach?” Brandon arches a hopeful brow at me.
“Yeah. Let’s take some wine with us,” I say as I grab the remainder of the bottle from the fridge and he gets two glasses from the cabinet by the sink. We leave our shoes on the patio and head out to the beach, the ocean whispering a relaxing song as its waves brush the shore. We seat ourselves on the two lounge chairs where Tia and I have been sunbathing the last few weeks and watch the water.
“It’s beautiful here,” Brandon sighs as he fills our glasses with wine.
“It’ll be hard to leave,” I note as take a few sips from my glass.
For some reason, I feel nervous around Brandon tonight. Maybe because I feel like things are coming to a head. Our time in Mexico is almost over and I’m not sure what will happen when we go home. It’s easy to get lost here, get lost with him, his sexy body, his smile, the way he dotes on me, but what if that’s only here. Home means reality. Not just work, our girls, chores, and the other daily nonsense, but it means dealing with the rubble that the wrecking ball left behind. How do we pick up the pieces and rebuild?
“You know the night we first made love here…” Brandon says as he stares out over the water. “I had never had anything so spontaneous and exciting happen to me. You really surprised me that night. I knew that night when you told me you loved me that you were my soul mate.”
Maybe it’s the wine, but I indulge him. “What was it about that night?”
“You, Soph. You were always surprising me. You were shy in one way, but completely aweing in another. I was always on my toes with you.”
“I miss that girl,” I mumble as I reflect on the things we used to do. Before he responds, I stand and pull down the straps of my dress and slide it down until it pools at my feet. Brandon stares up at me, lips parted. I unhook my bra, letting it fall to the ground before slipping off my panties. My gaze rests on his, as he peruses my body. Slowly spinning around, I run to the water and submerge myself. A few moments later, Brandon joins me, naked, his erection hard as stone.
“Water feels good.” He swims towards me and I remain in place so he can get to me. When he reaches me, he grabs me and pulls me to him. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, where his erection rests against my sex. My body trembles from the contact and my nipples harden against his chest. He caresses my neck with soft kisses and my sex clenches, begging for him to be inside of me.
“I want to kiss you. Do you want me to?” His eyes are hopeful, but again, I’m not ready to kiss him. I know it’s crazy that I’m willing to do everything else, but kissing him. He kissed another woman. That image still burns in my mind. I shake my head to brush away the memory. I told myself I’d try. To try, I have to let that memory go, stop reflecting on it. But trying doesn’t mean I’m ready to kiss him yet.
“I can’t, Brandon,” I huff as I release him and begin wading to the shore. My emotions are so conflicted. What are we doing? If I can’t kiss him, should I be doing anything sexual with him? Am I rushing this?
He follows behind me and when we reach the chairs, he says, “Sophia.” I turn to him, and his eyes are dark, from desire or lack of light, I don’t know. “Lay down on the chair.”
I swallow a dry lump in my throat, but do as he says. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He lets out what sounds like a painful sigh. “I want to watch you touch yourself. I won’t make you come myself until you’re ready to kiss me, but I’d like to watch you, if you want me to.” Naked and wet, I stare up at him, completely turned on by this proposition. “Do you want me to watch you?”
My heart is thundering in my chest when I answer, “Yes. But I want something else.” I whisper and he leans down to hear me.
“What is it?”
“I want you to do it, too. I want to watch you.”
His chest heaves up and down, my words evidentially exciting him. “Anything else?”
I bite my lip nervous to say what else I want, but I decide I need to open up. “I want you to come on me when you finish.”
EIGHTEEN
Brandon
My dick is so hard right now I’m pretty sure if she blew in its general direction I’d explode all over her. Holy shit! This woman is my wife. We’ve been married for years and years, yet she still surprises me.
“Okay.” My voice is gravelly when I answer. “I want you to touch yourself. Start with those perfect tits of yours.” Sophia’s hands move to her breasts and she gently gropes both, her eyes remaining fixed on me. “Now pinch your nipples, pretend it’s my teeth.” She obeys me, a tiny moan escaping her lips when she does.
“Your mouth always feels so good,” she whispers and I close my eyes, fighting the urge to crawl on top of her and give in.
“Sophia, I want you to move one hand to that soft, wet pussy and touch yourself.”
“I want you to touch yourself, too. I want us to do it together,” she reminds me as her hand slides down her belly, my gaze fixed on its descent.
Fisting my cock with one hand, I begin to stroke slowly, head to shaft, over and over. “Do you want me to go fast or slow?” I whisper.
“Slow at first. Just follow my rhythm.” She reaches her free hand out and strokes my thigh and I’m positive she has no idea how much that simple touch has sent me rocketing towards orgasm. Who knew after all these years, she could undo me like this, bring me back to that fumbling college kid who thought he had it all figured out until she showed up, my goddess, turning me into a total wreck.
We fall into a steady tempo, Sophia rubbing her clit in circular motions, me stroking my cock and as her orgasm builds, so does her speed, causing mine to follow.
“You look so fucking hot when you touch yourself, Soph. I swear I’m the luckiest man in the world,” I moan as the familiar tingle shoots down my spine. “Are you close, baby, ‘cause I’m not going to last much longer,” I warn and with my words Sophia lets out a loud moan, her hand moving diligently, her body tensing as her orgasm spirals through her. “Brandon,” she gasps as her eyes watch me, waiting.
“I want you to come here, Brandon.” She squeezes her perfect beautiful tits together and I’m done. My orgasm shoots out of me in hot spurts landing on her chest, seeping between her cleavage down into the hollow of her neck. As I gasp for air above her she reaches her hand up and caresses my face softly.
“That was amazing,” she sighs, a smile of contentment on her face.
“You never cease to amaze me, Soph.” My forehead falls to hers for a moment before I stand and grab my shirt. I lean down again and wipe her chest and throat, cleaning away what could be one of the most erotic, mind blowing orgasms of my life. When I’m done cleaning her, I turn and find my shorts and just as I’m about to bend down to step into them, I feel Sophia’s body press against my back and her arms wrap around me. I pull her hands tighter, the embrace meaning more than any other she’s ever given me.
“Thank you, Brandon,” she whispers and then she gently kisses my back between my shoulder blades. It’s not the kiss I’ve been pining for—the kiss that says she forgives me and she’ll give me another chance, but it’s a prelude to that kiss and I’m grateful for it.
NINETEEN
Sophia
When I wake the next morning, I’m naked, curled up in a mess of sheets. Images from the night before dance through my mind and I smile as the sweet ache between my legs throbs. Last nigh
t was incredible, but it left me hungry for more, needing more. Slowly, the more time Brandon and I spend together, the less hurt and angry I feel. It feels like were rediscovering each other.
I throw on a bikini, opting not to run this morning and head downstairs. Brandon and Tia are in the kitchen, singing obnoxiously to Madonna’s Like a Virgin. Brandon sings high pitched to sound more feminine. Antonio is seated at the breakfast table, his chin resting in his hand, watching them like he’s bored.
“Phi!” Tia yells as she runs to me and holds the wooden spoon in her hand out to me like a microphone.
“I think you two have it covered.” I grin, my gaze meeting Brandon’s from across the counter. Our stares linger, and a rush of heat covers my face. When he nods with a playful grin, my belly flips. It’s been years since we looked at each other this way, like all we want to do is tear each other’s clothes off and screw our brains out.
I’m not sure how long Brandon and I remain transfixed on each other, but Tia clearing her throat drags me back.
“Looks like you two worked up an appetite last night,” she smirks and heads back to the stove. I roll my eyes and blush as Antonio quirks a knowing brow.
“I’m glad to see you two are getting along so well,” Tia continues as she whisks the eggs. “I was hoping you…” Her words trail off as she stumbles back from the stove, her head lulling.
“Tia?” Brandon is fast behind her, a gentle arm under her elbow.
“I’m okay, just a litt…” She collapses to the ground before Brandon can catch her. Antonio immediately rushes to her as I round the counter. Her face is pale, her lips almost blue.
“Tia!” I shriek at the sight of her as if it will rouse her, but she is still as the dead, her body limp, as Antonio straightens and checks her pulse at her throat.
“Call for an ambulance,” he grits.
“What number do I call?” I mumble, numb with shock. What is wrong with my sister?
“You sit with her, I’ll call.” He waits until I’m beside him to move before sprinting to the phone on the wall by the fridge.
“Tia,” I say firmly smacking the side of her face. My gaze moves to Brandon whose brows are furrowed as he stares down at Tia. When he feels my eyes upon him, he looks up and reaches for my hand.
“She’ll be okay.” He nods and I nod back.
“They’re on their way” Antonio sighs as he pulls a cushion off the chair and places it gently under Tia’s head.
Tia is rushed to the nearest hospital and we all wait, anxious, pacing the small waiting room filled with locals and the stench of body odor. Brandon brings Antonio and I coffee and offers to get us food, but neither of us can eat. Something is so very wrong. My chest is tight with worry and dread. I’ve had this feeling something with Tia has been off. Please God, let her be okay. Hours pass when finally a doctor emerges and we all practically bombard him.
He speaks to Antonio in Spanish and I notice Brandon listening intently, as he knows a small amount of Spanish. As the doctor continues speaking, moving his hands around his head as he speaks, Brandon briefly closes his eyes and my heart sinks.
“Did she get a concussion when she fell?”
“No,” Brandon whispers.
“Something’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I ask, panic evident in my tone. My hands grip Brandon’s arm frantically.
“He says we can see her now.” Antonio takes a deep breath, scrubbing his face with his hands. Something is horribly wrong. Antonio looks like he’s about to cry. A look passes between he and Brandon and I’m on the verge of breaking down.
“What did he say. Brandon?” I plead with him. “Please tell me.”
“I only caught bits, Soph. He says she’s awake and wants to speak with you.” He rubs my back and the muscles in his jaw tick. He knows what the doctor said and won’t tell me. That confirms it. It is something bad.
“This way.” Antonio leads us through a corridor and we turn down a long hall with bright red walls and white tile floors. When we reach her door, Antonio enters first and falls to his knees at her bedside.
Tia lays half-way back, pillows propping her head up. She’s wearing a white hospital gown. Her hair billows over her shoulders and she stares at us with tired eyes. “Sorry I ruined breakfast, guys,” she gests, but her humor is only halfhearted. Pale skin and half-opened eyes replace her bronzed skin and gleaming gaze.
“Are you okay?” I breathe as I round the other side of the bed and place my hand on hers where it rests beside her. My eyes frantically scan her head to toe, searching for some injury. “Did you get a concussion?”
She snickers slightly. “Guys, can I speak to Phi alone please?” She runs a hand over Antonio’s head. Antonio gazes up at her, his eyes speaking something, communicating a message and Tia nods, as if he’s instructed her to do something.
Brandon is beside me, his arm wrapping around me as he kisses my forehead. “I’ll be right outside, Soph,” he whispers and my stomach clenches with dread. He knows something is wrong. I can tell.
When Antonio and Brandon exit, Tia turns to me, her head leaned back against her pillows as if she haven’t the strength to hold it up any longer.
“What’s going on, Tia? I know something’s wrong.” Sitting beside her on the bed, I take her hand in mine and hold it. I can still remember when she was a little girl, she’d always ask me to sit with her until she fell asleep whenever she was sick.
“I’m dying, Phi.” Her tone is soft and delicate and her hand squeezes mine.
All of the blood drains from my face and I stop breathing. It takes me a moment before I can ask, “What do you mean?”
“It means, seven months ago while I was visiting some friends in Vancouver, I got sick and went to the hospital. I was having these awful headaches and I was so tired. You know me, I can go all day. I don’t get tired. They did blood work and when it came back funny, it was recommended I see an oncologist. So I went to Texas. Antonio met me there, and I had an MRI. I have a brain tumor, Phi. They can’t tell where the cancer started, but it’s in my ovaries and both breasts.”
The room is spinning now and she squeezes my hand tighter as she sees my struggle absorbing the news. This isn’t happening. She’s twenty-four years old, for God’s sake. This is impossible.
I swallowed the panic ripping through me. My baby sister just told me she has cancer. “Did you get a second opinion?” Maybe the doctor was wrong.
She smiled softly at me. “I got five. Antonio was in denial. Just like you.”
“What about chemo, surgery?” My voice is frantic as I’m determined there is an answer, a cure.
“I was given a year with chemo and six months without. The tumor in my brain is located where my spinal cord meets my brain. The surgery was risky and even with a double mastectomy and having my ovaries removed, remission was unlikely. I have some rare genetic thing, the cancer spreads fast in me. I always knew I was unique.” She tries to joke, maybe for me, but I think more so for her. I can see this is hard for her to tell me. She’s more worried about my reaction than the fact she’s going to die.
“So the fatigue? That’s what’s been going on and Antonio knew the entire time, but you couldn’t tell me?” In my despair, anger has found a footing. How could she keep this from me—her sister?
“I wanted our last bit of time together to be fun and amazing. That’s how I want you to remember me, Phi.” Tears claw at my eyes as I shake my head vehemently.
“No. This isn’t happening. We will find someone who can help you. Tia you have to fight. You can’t just give up.” Tears fall freely from me now and she sits up and takes me in her arms. My beautiful dying sister, comforting me.
“Phi, my quality of life would deteriorate. I didn’t want my last bit of time here to be sick and losing my hair. I wanted to live, Phi.”
“I want you to live, Tia! Please fight! Please!” I sob as I clutch her tightly, my tears wetting her hair pressed between us.
“I will live. Thro
ugh you, Phi. That’s why I brought you here. To remind you how to live again.”
We don’t speak for some time, Tia and I just hold each other, both of us crying. There are no words. My baby sister has decided to let nature take its course and rob her of her life.
“It won’t be long now, Phi. There are some things you need to know, my wishes I mean.”
Sitting up, I wipe my face with my hands and gaze at her. Although evidence of her crying still wets her face, she’s all business now.
“I’d like to come home with you. Maybe go to a hospice when things get really bad. I’d like Antonio to come, too, if that’s alright.”
“Of course, Tia. Anything you want and Antonio is more than welcome and no. No hospice. You’ll stay at our house.”
“When I pass, Phi, I want to be cremated.” Before giving me time to possibly disagree she continues, “I’d like my ashes spread here, on the beach.”
“Whatever you want, Tia.” I cry and she hands me five tissues from the box on the table beside her bed.
“No matter what happens, Phi, know that being your little sister has been the best. I couldn’t have asked for a better best friend.”
We immediately embrace again and cry into each other’s shoulders. After a few minutes, we collect ourselves and she says, “I’d like to speak with Brandon.”
I don’t ask her why, I just nod numbly and head towards the door.
“I love you, Phi,” she says quietly.
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
TWENTY
Brandon
Leaned against the wall outside Tia’s room, I wait for Sophia to come out. I’m not severely fluent in Spanish, but I knew I heard something about a mass in her head as the doctor spoke. I had thought Tia maybe brought Sophia here to convince her to leave me, but now I feel like an asshole. Tia is going to die and this was her farewell voyage with her sister. My gaze darts to Antonio who looks like he’s lost in a fog, his eyes glazed over. I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind. The woman he’s madly in love with is going to die.