Remembering Us

by Stacey Lynn

  But yet, like this, feeling his warmth all over, it’s so easy to forget that. It’s easy to lose myself underneath the feel of his muscles and his warm breath that whispers across my skin.

  I’m barely paying attention to the laughter in the movie when Adam’s thumb on my hips starts moving. I don’t know if he’s aware he’s doing it or if he just can’t help himself.

  Slowly, I can tell his breathing has become heavier, slightly deeper, as the pad of his thumb finds the space on my skin just above my hip bone where my t-shirt has ridden up a little bit. The small warmth from his skin on mine sends pleasure throughout my entire body.

  There’s no way that I could physically react to him the way that I do if I was truly afraid of him. The realization shocks me and I tense in his arms.

  His thumb stops moving and his hand moves away, but I stop him.

  “Don’t.”

  I turn my face so my lips are inches from the skin on his neck. I don’t know what kind of cologne he wears, and I don’t care. All I know is that he smells absolutely delicious. But I’m terrified to make the first move again, scared he’ll reject me and walk away all over again. That he won’t be able to handle seeing my scarred skin.

  “It felt nice.”

  I watch him swallow and his hand tightens on my hip, but still not where I want it. I want his hand back on my skin, warming me in a way that only he can seem to do.

  I take a deep breath of my own and lean forward, brushing just a hint of a kiss on his skin. His breath hitches and his hand moves back to my waist, his full hand on my skin as he pushes up my shirt a little bit further. His hand rests there, not moving at all, but even still, I shift underneath his touch.

  It’s a silent, but brave invitation, that I want more of him.

  “You feel good,” he whispers into my ear. I shiver underneath his husky rumbling. “You have no idea how amazing it felt to wake up this morning with you in our bed, curled up next to me.” His tongue darts out and licks my ear lobe, and then he presses a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin right behind my ear.

  I moan softly into his neck. It comes out before I can stop it, and yet I’m not embarrassed or afraid of my response.

  “Thank you for giving that to me.” He pulls me close to him, shifting me so I’m straddling his lap, facing him.

  I see lust and desire all over his face. And apprehension. Like maybe he’s still afraid to push me too far. I wonder if my own expression mirrors his because I feel the same way.

  My hand moves to his chest and I feel his heart beating rapidly under my skin and his shirt. He looks down at my hand on him then back to me. Both of his hands move to my hips and he rocks me once into him. My thighs tighten and relax and I stifle another moan as I feel his arousal underneath the crotch of his jeans. Hard. Wanting me.

  I want it. I need it. I need something good to replace all of my fears.

  Something to fill the emptiness that settles inside of me when I spend too much time alone, my mind wandering to all of the unknowns and holes in my memory.

  Maybe I’m using him. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I truly want him and love him with all of my heart.

  Right now, I just want to feel him. I want that connection with him.

  One of his hands come up and gently brushes my cheek, cupping my cheeks.

  He pulls me closer so I’m inches from his lips. “I want to kiss you. And I don’t want to stop.”

  My tongue licks my suddenly dry lips. “I want you to kiss me,” I tell him, with a voice that must be mine, but I don’t completely recognize. “And I don’t want you to stop. Not tonight.”

  He studies me for a moment before he pulls me to him. Our lips join timidly at first, but he quickly takes control when he sucks my bottom lip into his and nips it lightly. I rock my hips into him involuntarily, and we both groan at the same time. My hands go to the back of his neck and I pull him to me, letting him know that I want this. That I’m not afraid of him.

  “I need you, Amy. It’s been too long,” he tells me with a rough voice when he pulls away.

  Without warning, he stands up, pulling me with him so my only option is to wrap my legs around his waist.

  He walks us to his room – our room – and places me gently on the bed. I have a feeling, based on the tension in his arms and the veins I can see protruding from his neck, that he’s holding back and being gentler with me than he normally would.

  And so I tell him. “You’re holding back on me. Don’t.”

  He shakes his head as he crawls over me, lifting my shirt and taking it with him as he moves closer to me. “I don’t want to push you away. Not when I have you back in this bed.”

  I shake my head. “You won’t.”

  He regards me for a moment, almost debating if my words are true. They are. At least for now. I only hope that I didn’t just make a promise that I can’t keep.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he tells me as he looks down over my body. I see him flinch when he gets to my scar, but I pull his face back to mine.

  I see pain written all over him.

  “You hate my scars.”

  He drops his head. “I hate that I didn’t protect you.”

  I have no idea where my bravado comes from, but I lean forward and unclasp the back of my bra. The last thing I want is for him to leave me alone again, not when my entire body is coiled tightly with a sexual tension I never remember experiencing before. His eyes watch every movement as I remove my bra and throw it onto the floor. I smile coyly.

  “Then make it up to me.”

  He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. It’s such a rare thing to see on him so I soak it all in, knowing I’m doing this to him.

  I’m unraveling his self-control, and a part of me that I don’t understand loves it.

  He leans forward and kisses me. This time there’s no gentle start-up, no timidity or uncertainty. His mouth attacks mine like he’s been starving for me. He drinks in every corner of my mouth like he owns me, possesses me. I move underneath him, shifting and pushing against him to relieve the tension that grows with every passing second.

  Before I know it, my hands are on the back of his shirt, fisting it and pulling it off as fast as I can, but not nearly fast enough.

  He breaks the kiss only to remove his shirt, and then his mouth is on my neck, his hands roaming and pressing all over my skin. His warm hands cup my breasts and he pushes them together, pulling them, and massaging them. His fingers play with my nipples at the same time, bringing them to hardened peaks, and it sends a fire down to my lower stomach.

  “Adam,” I moan, and throw my head back. I need him. I need more of this.

  His lips and tongue press against my skin as he moves down. His lips cover one of my breasts while his other hand continues kneading and teasing my other. I cry out, throwing my head back. I feel full of pressure. Full of something that is dying to be released.

  “More,” I moan, grinding against his crotch, needing the friction, but needing so much more at the same time.

  My hands fight to get in the space between us and I’m unzipping his jeans and reaching into his boxers. Adam groans as I wrap my hand around his thickness.

  He feels like the softest of silk over steel. I squeeze around him lightly and he bites on my nipples. I cry out again, rocking into him, and he pulls back away from me.

  “You’re killing me,” he whispers and removes my hand from his jeans. “It’s been too long.”

  “I need you.”

  Then, Adam’s mouth is back on me, kissing my stomach while his hands work their way down to my jeans. He unzips them and leans back on his heels while he removes them and my underwear at the same time.

  I resist the urge to cover up. To turn away from him. I can’t.

  His blatant stare on my body has me frozen to the bed with my hands fisting the covers beneath me.

  “I need you, too.” His voice is tight and rough. Deeper and full of unspoken tension that I’m just beginning to understand.r />
  I take everything he gives me because my body feels like it’s on fire with wanting him. In seconds, his jeans join mine on the floor and his hands and his lips are back onto my stomach, moving further down. His warm hands spread my thighs and he stares at me.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin as he begins pressing soft kisses against my lower stomach down to my thighs, avoiding all the areas where I need him.

  My core pulses with need for him.

  But he continues to tease me, gently licking me until I’m bucking my hips and moaning noises that sound animalistic to my ears.

  He stops and pulls back, his hands firmly holding down my thighs. His eyes hold a fire that seems unquenchable. Do I always make him feel as out of control as he makes me feel?

  “Do you want me?” he asks, with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  There’s no way I could say no. Not now.

  “Yes,” I breathe out, trying to move against his hands that are holding me still.

  “I need to hear you say it, Amy.”

  He leans forward as his hand cups me right where I want him. I move against him, not nearly gaining enough friction to do anything but aggravate me further.

  His head lowers to my neck and he sucks my skin, biting it playfully and licking away the sting.

  “I want you, Adam. Please.”

  I arch my back and turn my head, moving against his hand and lips just as he presses one finger, and then another, into me.

  I moan and his mouth covers mine. His fingers press into me, sending me further into a vortex of emotions that feel ready to explode and shatter all over the place. His thumb presses against my clit, kneading it roughly as his fingers continue to pump back and forth with a firm rhythm.

  And then I shatter.

  My toes curl, my stomach tightens, my thighs press against the bed, and my back arches. I scream out Adam’s name while he pulls back, watching me completely fall apart underneath him with a satisfied and lust-filled grin.

  He pulls out every shudder of my orgasm with his fingers, and just when I think I can’t anymore, I feel the tip of his erection press into me. My body accepts him easily, greedily, still slick with moisture from my own orgasm. My hands fly to his lower back and pull him closer to me as his hips hit mine and he grinds into me.

  “Uhh…” I moan, and bury my head into his neck, breathing his sweaty, but sexy scent.

  My lips press into his skin, tasting him and breathing him in. My body moves with Adam’s as he rocks into me fiercely.

  There is no slow passion with us. It’s hard and rough and I feel myself being pushed across the bed with the force of his thrusts until my head is pressing against the headboard.

  And still he doesn’t stop. Thrusting into me powerfully as if it may be our last night. The only sounds that fill the room are the sounds of my blood beating in my ears, our skin slapping together, and both of our groans of pleasure.

  “Amy …”

  A new wave of pleasure grows inside of me just as Adam rolls us over.

  I straddle him, clawing my hands into his shoulders and rocking my hips into him, pressing myself into another orgasm as Adam grabs my hips, moans loudly, and pushes into me. He pulls down on my hips at the same time and my clit rubs against his skin right where I need it to.

  We explode together, moaning each other’s names and shaking in pleasure.

  I collapse on top of him and his arms wrap around me, holding me tightly to him. I can still feel him inside of me, emptying himself into me. Our hearts are racing against our sweat-lined skin.

  We say nothing as we catch our breath.

  “That was incredible,” he whispers into my ear.

  I mumble something unintelligible, unable to speak.

  I close my eyes and rest against him, waiting for the voices of regret to begin speaking in my ear. Telling me that I just made a huge mistake, but yet, they’re surprisingly silent.

  All I hear is Adam’s breath and all I feel is our hearts beating against our chests.

  Slowly, he rolls me over to our side and pulls out of me, taking care of the condom that I never noticed was put on, but am thankful he used anyway. When he returns to the bed, he brushes my dark, slightly sweaty hair off my cheek, and rests his hand at the base of my neck.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Nothing.

  For the first time in the couple of months since I’ve woken from my coma, there is only silence in my head. There isn’t the stress of trying to figure everything out or the doubt that I’m making the wrong choices. I’m completely relaxed.

  I bite my lip.

  He leans back, a frown line in between his eyes. I reach up with my thumb to smooth it out. “I think … that I might really like you.”

  His eyes light up and he pulls me closer, laughing softly against my neck. “I love you, Amy. You’re my life.”

  I say nothing because I can’t say what I know he wants me to. Hopefully the fact that I like him, and am willing to admit it, is enough for him tonight.

  We rest against each other until I pull back and look at him. His dark eyes are half-closed and I know he’s near sleep.

  “I had a dream last night,” I say softly, nervously.

  He frowns again and I almost regret bringing it up.

  “Was it bad?”

  “You were really mad. You trashed your bedroom at the frat house. Zander yelled at me, and then you screamed at me when I mentioned Brendan.”

  “It scared you.” It’s a statement not a question. I shrug a shoulder, trying to play it off.

  “I’m here talking to you about it instead of running away.”

  He rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his eyes, blocking me from being able to see him.

  “My grandpa died. They were who I went to live with after my dad …” He stops and I don’t make him finish the thought. “My grandpa was a great guy,” he says, rolling back to his side and resting a hand on my hip. He squeezes me playfully and I smile. “One morning, he just collapsed in their living room and died instantly.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, brushing my hand against his cheek and pushing his hair off his face. “You’ve lost everyone you cared about.”

  His jaw tightens and his eyes fill with tears, but I know he won’t let them fall. His hands are tense on my body, and he presses his tongue against the back of his top teeth, regaining control.

  “Almost.” He chokes over the word, and I bury my head against his chest, wrapping my arms around him.

  My own eyes fill with tears, but I’m not strong enough to blink them back or fight them away.

  He means me.

  I can feel it in the desperation of his voice, and I feel wrecked with emotion for this man who has seemed so scary to me.

  Yet somehow I know he’s freed me from an unemotional existence that was destined for me before he walked into my life.

  I don’t understand how. I don’t remember when it happened, but I know it did because I’m not the girl I used to be.

  And for the first time, I’m thankful for Adam for giving that to me. That gift of freedom and emotions and possibly the insanity I feel around him as well.

  He had to have opened up something inside of me and now I just want to remember it all; all of my time with him, without the doubt of fearing him, too.

  I pull him into my arms and we fall asleep, tangled in each other’s arms and legs.

  “Here you go,” I say, sliding Zander his black cup of coffee. His fingers tap mindlessly on the countertop and he doesn’t take it right away. “Zander?”

  “So you and Adam are doing better. At least that’s what Kelsey says.”

  I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the way he’s looking at me. “Yes? I think so?” My voice trips and the words come out like questions instead of statements. “Why?”

  “I just,” he stops, but his fingers keep drumming on the countertop. “I don’t want to see him hurt by this. He has a lot going on.”r />
  My eyebrows pull in and I cock my head to the right. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Just … don’t move forward until you know for certain you really want to be with him. Okay?”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you, Zander.”

  “I know. But keep in mind what I said all right?”

  I shrug. Whatever. More cryptic language that isn’t worth fussing over. “Okay. What’s Kelsey doing today?”

  He smiles, and I see a glint of his tongue ring flash in his mouth when he does it. “She’s working. She’ll be off around three.” With that, he picks up his coffee and takes a quick sip. His lip ring clicks on the plastic top. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

  “I love Kelsey. A lot.” His eyes dart nervously around the bar. I get the feeling that Zander might be less used to talking about his emotions or thoughts than even Adam is. “I asked her dad for permission to marry her.”

  My eyes fly open and I choke over absolutely nothing. Oh my gosh.

  “You did? What’d he say?”

  I try to picture Kelsey’s dad, former quarterback to the Broncos, a big intimidating guy in his own right, and how he would handle Zander proposing to his daughter.

  “He shook my hand and told me not to fuck up.”

  I laugh softly. “I could see that. Why are you telling me this?”

  His nose wrinkles and he sets the coffee down on the countertop, but he leaves his hands on it like he needs something to do with them. “Other than her dad, you’re the only person she cares about.”

  He looks at me knowingly, and it takes me a second to get what he’s saying to me.

  “You want my blessing?”

  Zander bites the inside of his lip, and I think it’s almost funny that he’s so nervous talking to me about this. Hell, I don’t even remember him. But that doesn’t matter. I’ve known Kelsey long enough to know that if she’s madly in love with someone, then he’s perfect for her.

  I walk out from behind the counter and throw my arms around him. He tenses and then he pats my shoulder awkwardly.