Just Give Me a Reason

by Rebecca Rogers Maher

  “Are you okay?” he asks. His voice is shaking.

  I nod and tighten my fist around him. He moans, and then he starts to move like I know he wants to—roughly, jerkily.

  I slip my fingers between my legs, and Tony thrusts with his hips, pulling me by the hair up and down his thick cock. He surges hotly in my mouth, and I make a sound then, a twisted sound. Because he is undone now. I feel it—the shattering of his control, his helplessness to this grinding, wrenching need. His whole body quakes with it.

  “Beth,” he says. “Fuck.”

  The night air is cold on my bare breasts, and in my mouth he is burning, burning hot. Lost to his own driving thrusts—uneven, relentless.

  I suck him and move against my own fingers. I want to come with him, to be in this with him, and I know it won’t take long. I feel how close he is.

  His hands slide over my hair and down to my shoulders, to the back of my neck. He grips me there and starts to shudder.

  “Beth, I’m—oh, God.” His cock jerks in my mouth. He takes it in his hand and pulls out as the first drops pulse out of him. Onto my chest, my breasts. He comes all over me, hot and glorious, and the brutality of that, the hot brand of it, is what takes me over the edge. He grips the back of my head, holding me to his bare thigh while I come and come, both of us lost in the aftershocks.

  Then he drops to his knees and gathers me into him, and holds me.

  Chapter 11

  Tony

  I kiss Beth’s face, her hair, her lips. My pants are still down, my shirt unbuttoned. Her skin is bare from the waist up, covered in goosebumps. The cold night rushes in on us both. I don’t know how long we kneel there on the floor of the woods.

  My legs are still shaking when we rise, finally, and find our clothes in the dark. We dress in silence and stumble over the uneven ground to our flashlights. Our picnic is still there on the boulder, overlooking a vista I can no longer see. We gather our supplies and head for the trail, and all around us, night insects call and respond, call and respond.

  We don’t talk much on the path. The beams of our flashlights lead the way toward our cars, and I stay close to Beth to make sure she doesn’t slip. Otherwise, though, I keep myself at a distance. I’m afraid of what I might say to her.

  She was determined, on the mountaintop, to make me admit what I wanted. To strip away my self-control and make me ask for it. But there are limits to what I can ask her for.

  Her mouth, yes. Her body. And God, I’m not complaining.

  But it’s becoming more than that, and I think we both know it now.

  I felt what it was like to be wrenched open tonight, and then to be met by Beth in that raw, honest place. I don’t know how to pull back from that feeling now that I’ve experienced it. And I don’t know if I want to.

  It’s been discipline, pure and simple, that’s gotten me through most of my life. I’ve put my head down and tackled the responsibilities my father charged me with.

  I didn’t realize that meant I was shutting myself down. That I wasn’t letting myself feel anything. I thought I was just an even-keeled person, a man in charge of himself.

  But that person on the mountain, the man Beth had to tie to a fucking tree, for God’s sake—that man could feel. It was glorious and terrifying, and now that he is out in the open, I don’t know if I can shove him back down.

  That man she tore out of me was sloppy, unquenchable. He was so full of need.

  But he felt real. I felt real—for once, fully.

  Is that who I really am inside?

  God, the things I asked her to do.

  And she did them. Willingly. She wasn’t at all ashamed or restrained.

  She walks beside me now, a sure and solid presence, but she hasn’t spoken since we left the summit. I don’t know what she’s thinking, and in truth, I’m afraid to ask.

  I thought I could take her on a hike, on an easygoing picnic. That we could maybe sleep together again, and enjoy each other’s company. I am the one who suggested we continue. I convinced her, convinced us both, that we could be together like this and then, when the time came, end it.

  Who the fuck was I kidding?

  We pick our way carefully down the path, our flashlights illuminating only the section immediately before us. The rest of the forest is bathed fully in darkness. Around us, night sounds click and sing, spanning out over miles of mountains and trees. In the distance, something is howling.

  Eventually, we reach the parking lot. I turn to talk to Beth then, to try to make sense of what just happened. But she silences me with a hasty kiss and gets in her car.

  “I’ll meet you at Holly’s,” she says.

  I stand there in the dark for several minutes after she leaves. I can’t seem to open the door and put my key in the ignition.

  It’s possible that Beth, too, was shaken by this. But I don’t know what shaken would look like for her. She’s always so bright and forward—everything she feels and wants worn right out front. I wonder what it would be like to be as relentlessly honest as she is.

  Maybe I was drawn to her because of that. I don’t know. My mom would blush at even a fraction of what has happened between Beth and me, but she would definitely argue that Beth was brought into my life for a reason. That I was meant to learn something from her.

  Mom had conviction like that. She believed there was an order to the universe. I try to imagine what she would say to me now.

  She told me once that her job, as a mother, was to raise sons who could appreciate a strong woman. She said it was the least she could do for the future generations.

  Well, Beth is nothing if not strong.

  And I guess we found out tonight that I can handle her. Even if it turned me inside out in the process.

  I get into my car.

  She’ll be waiting for me at Holly’s house. I have no idea what will happen when I get there, or what will come next for us. All I know is that we only have a few days left. And confused as I am, torn up as I am, I don’t want to lose those days.

  It’s not going to be light or easy.

  But I still want her. I want to be with her, God help me.

  For as long as she’ll have me.

  —

  When I arrive, she’s in the shower that adjoins Holly’s bedroom. I make use of the other one, and then go to the kitchen, where Beth waits beside a hot kettle.

  “Thought we could use a little tea.” She half smiles, and leans against the counter. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I stand at the table a few feet away. “Are you?”

  She’s wearing a long cotton shirt and leggings, and her wet hair is loosely braided down her back. I want to go to her, to wrap my arms around her and breathe in her scent. But I’m not sure how she’d feel about something like that. Sex, we can do. But hugging? I don’t know.

  “I’m not sure if I’m okay, actually,” she says. “That was a little…”

  “Intense?”

  “You could say that, yeah.”

  “I hope I wasn’t…I mean…”

  Her eyes widen and she immediately shakes her head. “Oh, God. Please don’t regret it.” She comes closer to me and puts her hand on my arm. “Please, Tony. I didn’t mean it that way. It was…you were…” She looks me full in the eyes. “Beautiful.”

  I let that word cascade through me, and then I reach up and cover her hand with mine.

  She breaks eye contact then, though, and turns to open a cabinet filled with boxes of tea. “What kind do you like?”

  I come up behind her to see what the choices are. I guess she feels me there, because she turns, and then we are just inches away from each other. Face-to-face.

  She pulls back a little against the counter, but with her belly between us, we’re still almost touching. Her eyes are wary, which is new. In the admittedly short time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her shrink from anything.

  But there is something here now, between us, that wasn’t there before. That we’re both a litt
le afraid of. It was easier, maybe, when it came upon us in the dark, in the woods. But here under the bright kitchen lights, surrounded by the normalcy of sturdy appliances and decorative square tiles, it’s harder to pretend it isn’t there.

  I study the hesitation in her eyes. It touches me somehow, as much as her boldness does.

  “I’ll take a black tea. Just a plain one. Please.”

  “Okay.” She pulls a box of it down, along with something herbal for herself, and inches past me to find a couple mugs.

  After she’s put in the tea bags, she turns and leans back against the counter, hands on her belly. Her thumbs stroke up and down, and she smiles faintly.

  I stand a few feet away, hands in my back pockets. “Is the baby moving?”

  “Yeah,” she says softly. “You want to feel?”

  As soon as she says the words, it looks like she wants to take them back. But then she braces herself and takes my arm.

  I move closer and rest my palm gently on the rise of her stomach. It’s quiet at first, but then I feel a flutter, followed by a swipe of what might be the baby’s foot.

  “Wow.” I move to face her fully, and place my other hand beside the first. My fingers splay across her belly, and the baby shifts beneath them. She grins and covers my hands with hers.

  Then she looks up, into my eyes. And realizes, I think, the intimacy of what we’re doing. Of letting me feel the baby inside her body. She goes to pull back, but I catch her hands in mine.

  “Beth.”

  She smells like fresh flowers. Her body is utterly still. I look into her eyes and try to read the rippling feeling there, but it’s no use. I don’t think either of us knows what is happening.

  I lean in and press my lips to hers. And a coil of heat spirals through me.

  I take her hands and bring them around my back so that she’s embracing me. It’s the first time, I realize, that we’ve faced each other full-on.

  “Beth,” I say. “I don’t want tea.”

  Against my mouth, she makes an inarticulate sound.

  I brush my lips over hers. “I want to bring you to bed, and take your clothes off, and make love to you.”

  She laughs huskily. “You’re getting good at this.”

  “I learn from the best.”

  I run my hands down her sides and back up over her breasts, sweeping my thumbs across her nipples. She gasps, and I bend down and brush my lips over the place where her neck and shoulder meet.

  “Come with me, okay? Come with me to my room.”

  She nods shakily, and I take her hand and lead her down the hall.

  I leave the light on in the hallway so that I can see her, and as soon as we reach the bed, I take off my T-shirt. She comes forward and spreads her hands over my bare chest, over my back, and then down into the waistband of my track pants. I take her hands, though, and kiss her fingertips, and then I pull her shirt up and off. She’s wearing a thin camisole underneath, and I take that off, too.

  I go to the head of the bed to pull the blankets down and prop up pillows for her lean on, because I know that when pregnant women lie flat on their backs, the weight of the baby affects their blood flow. And I want Beth to be comfortable, because tonight I’d like to take my time exploring her. Feeling her.

  She lies down, and I slide her pants down over her legs, keeping hold of one foot. I pause and place it on my stomach, and stroke the arch, and then her calf. She stretches her arms up over her head and presses her heel in.

  Her breasts and stomach are lush and swollen. The dark hint of her pubic hair is almost more than I can take. I lie down beside her, propped up on one elbow, and kiss her slowly, thoroughly. When I trail my fingertips over her nipples, she gasps and brings her knees up.

  “You’re so sensitive here,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she says. “It feels…God, it feels good when you touch me.”

  I run my lips over her earlobe, her throat. “I want you to feel good.”

  I bend my head to lick her and reach for her other breast, and she arches against the double sensation, gripping the back of my head.

  “Tony…”

  I circle her tight nipple with my tongue. “I’m going to take my time, okay?”

  She blows out a breath. “Yeah.”

  “Close your eyes, Beth.” I pull back for a moment and meet her hooded gaze. “Close your eyes and just…feel it.”

  A flash of something like fear flickers over her face, and she hesitates, but I squeeze her nipple between my thumb and forefinger—hard, and on purpose—and she shuts her eyes.

  I slide my hand between her legs and spread them open.

  She gasps, and I move between her knees.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” I tell her.

  I run my hands over her swollen belly and kiss her there, where the skin is stretched thin and tight. Then I lower myself down between her legs and push them farther apart. So that she’s laid wide open before my mouth.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice low and aroused.

  I breathe deliberately over her pussy, and everything contracts.

  “I’m looking at you.”

  She makes a sound. “Do you like what you’re seeing?”

  “God, yes.” I place my palms flat against the inside of her thighs. “I want to taste it. Taste you.”

  She breathes in sharply and starts to move her hips. She can’t help it, and it doesn’t occur to her to hold it back, and I love that. I love everything about this moment. Everything about her.

  I lean in slowly, and suck one of her labia into my mouth. She grabs the sheets on either side of her and thrusts upward. I lick inside her, and Lord, she tastes sharp and sweet. Then I suck her other lip in.

  My hands move down, under her ass, and grip her there, my thumbs digging into the soft place on either side where her pussy meets her thighs. She gasps and bears down, and that’s when I slide my tongue over her clit.

  “Tony!”

  I breathe out hard against her, but the base of my tongue keeps moving, sliding thickly over the swollen nub. Her hips move, and even though I said I would take my time, I’m having trouble already.

  I take a deep breath and pull back. Then I brace myself and reach both hands up to her breasts.

  “Oh, God,” she says, and I rub and roll her hard nipples in my fingers, while my tongue moves over her. I lick her slowly, thoroughly, building the thick tension for her, and she moves and undulates under my mouth, lost to the feeling.

  She’s getting close, I can feel it. Her breaths are short and sharp, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. I pull back and blow gently over her, and she whimpers, trembling.

  “Not yet,” I tell her.

  I get up onto my knees and slide my hands over her thighs, the underside of her knees, her calves, her feet. I stay there for a moment, gently massaging one foot and then the other, and wait for her to come down off the precipice.

  Then, all in one motion, I lean down and push her legs open wide, and suck her clit back into my mouth. She rears up on the bed and clutches my head in both of her hands.

  “Jesus,” she cries out. “Tony.”

  “That’s it,” I tell her. I take her hands and bring them to her breasts, and when she starts touching herself, I lick her—rhythmically, tightly.

  I rest my hand in a V over her mound, just below my mouth, and slowly move it down. So that my fingers are resting at her entrance. Then, inch by inch, I slide them in.

  I slow my tongue so that it’s barely glancing over her. My fingers curve against a sensitive spot inside, and she clenches around them, all of her contracting, needing.

  I go up on my knees to watch her face—the flickering emotion there, and the way she tries to cover it. The heat and color rising and rising in her.

  I bring my mouth down to her clit and suck it in, and her whole body tightens like a coil. She bears down against my hand and I push it deeper, my fingers curling and pressing into her. I grip her hip with my free hand
and stroke her, hard and steady, and her hips move. Her fingers clutch the bed, her heels digging in.

  “Tony,” she says. “Tony.”

  Ah, God, I want her to come.

  And she does. In great, rolling waves. I work her with my hand while she rides it, and then I rise up between her legs. She doesn’t hesitate for a moment. She rips down my pants and takes my cock in her hand, and guides me where I need to be.

  And I push right in—thick and deep—while her pussy clenches and tightens around me.

  “God,” she says. “Right there. Right—fuck.”

  Her legs lock around my hips and pull me in harder, so that my cock is buried deep. I grip her hair and kiss her, and she’s tight and straining under me, like the orgasm hasn’t ended. Like she’s still lost in it, sucking and stroking me, her heels digging into the back of my thighs.

  And when I come, when I spurt hotly inside her, her whole body convulses and takes it in. Her hips meet mine and hold there while I shudder and shudder against her. Then she collapses on the bed, pulling me down with her.

  I hold myself up so that my full weight isn’t on her belly, but I kiss the side of her face. I say her name.

  And she immediately stiffens beneath me.

  Outside, wind chimes clang against one another, ringing out in the dark night. Beth shivers and I try to shift to the side, to pull the blanket up over us, but she sits up, throwing the covers away from us.

  “What—” I start to say, but she’s already up out of the bed, searching for her clothes.

  “I have to…” She finds her long shirt and puts it on. “I’m just…” She faces me in the dim light.

  I sit up and pull the blanket over my lap.

  “It’s been…it’s been a long day, okay?”

  I take a deep breath. The whole room smells like her.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “I’m going to bed. All right? I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I don’t know what to say. I simply look at her.

  She backs away toward the door. “Good night. And, uh…thank you.”