Don't Stand So Close

by Eva Luxe

  “Yeah,” Brian said. “This is home.”

  He gestured toward the left, and I walked through to a living room that was modern and classic, all at the same time. White leather couches with red throw pillows creating splashes of color, paintings of women in Latin-style dresses dancing or posing, a fireplace almost as tall as I was.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  Brian walked toward the wet bar in the corner.

  “What do you want to drink?” he asked.

  I sat down on one of the couches, facing him.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Surprise me.”

  He nodded and reached for a glass. I looked around.

  “You’ve done really well for yourself,” I said. “You’re living your dream.”

  Brian snapped his head up. “You remember that?” he asked.

  I thought about it, realized I did, and nodded.

  A grin spread across his face, and it was beautiful, like the sun rising, lighting up his features.

  He brought me the drink he’d prepared, a Cosmopolitan, complete with the martini glass.

  “Classy,” I said.

  He sat down next to me. I sipped the alcohol. He sat close enough that the cushion dipped a little beneath me, but not so close that he was invading my personal space. It was generous of him. He seemed to understand that I struggled with personal space sometimes. Of course, he knew me. I had to keep remembering that.

  Another memory came out of nowhere. It was simple and straightforward. A movie, cars on the screen, and Brian next to me just like he was now. His hand wrapped around mine, fingers intertwined.

  He’d turned his head and smiled at me, the lighting of the movie blue on his face.

  He looked at me now, and it was the same look. Adoration? Or something similar.

  “Did we watch Fast Five?” I asked.

  Brian’s eyes widened a little. “Yeah.”

  I nodded, looking down at my drink. “I remember,” I whispered.

  The atmosphere changed. It charged with something that was familiar and foreign, all at the same time. When I looked at him, his eyes were on me, full of promise. They flicked to my lips before going back to my eyes. I knew what he was thinking.

  “I remember that, too,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  I leaned forward slowly, almost scared to lean into him in case he pulled away. I had been doing the rejecting for so long, I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle it.

  He did the rest. He took the lead, the way I somehow knew Brian would, and closed the distance between us. His hand slid onto my cheek, his finger warm and calloused on my skin. His eyes searched mine for just a second before he kissed me.

  When his lips touched mine, electricity danced on my skin, and it took my breath away. Somewhere at the back of my mind, it was achingly familiar, but I stopped trying to remember. I stopped holding onto the past and just let it go. This was happening now. Here. This was all that mattered.

  I sighed against his lips. He drew his tongue along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth for him, letting him in. The alcohol made me brave. He kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth, and he tasted like whiskey and something different, something I knew.

  Heat washed through my body and pooled between my legs, making me wet. I wanted him. So help me, I wanted him. I was getting hot for him, my nipples erect, my core tightening. I put my arms around Brian’s neck, and the kissing changed from careful to urgent.

  He pulled me closer, pressing his body up against mine. My breathing changed, becoming shallow, erratic. Brian slid his hand down my chest, and his hand found my breast, massaging the mound, kneading. I moaned into his mouth. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over my nipple, and it was like a direct line to my arousal.

  As if Brian knew, he reached down and pulled up my shirt. I stopped kissing him and lifted my arms like a child so he could undress me. My heart hammered against my chest as he dropped the shirt on the floor, and I sat in front of him in my bra. I was scared, but I wanted him. I wanted Brian to claim me. Not only did I want him physically, but I also wanted to belong to him again.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asked, and it meant everything to me that he did. I nodded.

  He kissed me again. I did the same he did for me, pulling his shirt up and pulling it over his head. When he was topless, he reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, peeling it off my shoulders. I sat in front of him, my nipples erect in the chill of the room.

  His eyes trailed down to them, and he looked at me, admiring me, as if he was committing the image of me to memory. Maybe he was. The idea of a memory had become very rare and precious to me.

  When he touched me again, it was gentle and eager, all at the same time. He pulled me against him so my breasts were against his chest. I gasped. He guided me backward so I lay on my back on the couch. His hand kneaded my breast again before he moved down my stomach, tracing a circle around my belly button and headed toward my pants. He undid my pants and pushed his hand into my panties.

  When his fingers dipped into my slit and he found my wetness, he groaned.

  “God, you’re so ready for me,” he said in a voice that sounded like a growl filled with lust.

  I swallowed and nodded. I was.

  He ran his fingers over my clit, and I shuddered. I hadn’t been with anyone since the accident. It had been hard enough without getting so close to someone. And his fingers felt so much better on my clit than my own did.

  I gasped, writhing under his body as he fingered me, waking my body. It seemed to remember other times he had done this to me, even if my mind did not. It knew how to move to help him make me feel as good as possible.

  When he removed his hand, I moaned in protest, but he pressed his cock against me, grinding his hips, and I felt how hard he was. His cock was long and thick through his jeans, and he gyrated his hips. It was a taste of what was to come, and I was suddenly hungry.

  He reached down and fiddled with my pants. I pressed against his chest, and he lifted his body, his face confused. I didn’t want him to stop, though. On the contrary, I wanted more. I undid my own pants and worked them over my hips. Brian helped me get rid of them. He stood up long enough to rid himself of his own pants, and then we were naked together.

  I let my eyes slide over his body. He was muscular, fit, without an ounce of fat on him. I let my eyes trail down his defined abs to the path of light hair that pointed south. I followed the trail and found his cock hard, stiff, pointing up and away from his body. The tip was slick with lust, and it echoed my own urges.

  I looked Brian in the eye. His pupils were dilated. He didn’t need me to ask him to come to me. He lay back down on the couch, lifting his weight off me just enough not to crush me.

  He paused.

  “Just a sec,” he said.

  He sat up and reached for his pants. From his pocket, he retrieved a condom, and he tore open the foil packet. Should I have been worried about the fact the he had a condom in his jean pocket? Don’t be silly, I chided myself. He was obviously just hoping he’d get lucky tonight— and that was exactly what was happening.

  He rolled the rubber over his length. When he was ready, he smiled at me, completely at ease with himself and what he’d just done, and positioned himself between my legs again.

  My thighs fell open for him, and he pressed his tip against my entrance. There hadn’t been a lot of foreplay, but I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him.

  He kissed me, and with his lips still locked on mine, he pushed his cock into me. I gasped against his mouth. I couldn’t remember the first time I’d had sex, and I still counted myself as a virgin because of it. But my body remembered.

  It didn’t hurt. There was nothing but pleasure and the wonderful feeling that this was right. It felt familiar.

  “This feels amazing,” Brian told me, breathing hard into my ear. He smelled like whiskey and wind. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was last with you.”

/>   “Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

  “People think I’m crazy,” he said. “Or some suspect I’m gay.”

  I laugh.

  “Not that there would be anything wrong with that,” he said.

  “Yeah, but your cock’s in me, and you love it, so you’re obviously not gay,” I told him.

  “You’re sure right that I love when my cock is in your pussy. It’s so tight and wet. It’s perfect,” he said.

  “Your cock is perfect in it,” I said. “It fills me up completely. I feel you all the way inside me.”

  I was physically turned on, but emotionally, I was touched in a different way. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t been with anyone else but me. I realized how hard it must have been to deal with everything that had happened. How he had never stopped loving me or giving up hope, even when he had wanted to and probably had tried very hard to.

  Brian started moving, pulling out and pushing back into me. His hips bucked as he picked up speed. His face was riddled with concentration as he nailed me harder and harder, and I cried out. He slammed into me, hard, and it was what I wanted. Somewhere, the barriers had fallen away. Being careful had gone out of the window.

  We were fucking on his couch, and it was what I wanted. I wanted him hammering into me, his body covering mine, his face so close to my ear I could hear him grunting.

  It was better than anything I’d ever imagined. It was real. Brian kissed me again, his hips still bucking, and a hunger washed over me like I’d never felt before. I wanted him to fuck me harder, still. I was searching for something. I didn’t know what. And I wanted him to drive me to it.

  It was hands down the sexiest thing I’d ever done or imagined. That I could remember, anyway.

  And it was with Brian, the one guy that seemed to never give up on me.

  Chapter 16 – Brian

  As I pushed my cock into her, I couldn’t fucking believe I was with Sadie.

  I was hesitant to call it making love because I still didn’t know where we would end up in the future, but this was the biggest step forward we had ever taken. And not because we were having sex, but because she was starting to remember.

  I focused on her gorgeous body. She was petite beneath me, her body slender, strong, and muscular. She’d always had a body to die for, but the years of extra training since the accident had paid off, and she was at her peak.

  Her breathing was hard and fast, her breasts were against my chest, and the sex was hot as fuck. I wanted her to orgasm. I wanted her to scream my name. I wanted to hear it from her lips, and the need was getting worse.

  “Brian,” she said, just as I thought it. It wasn’t a scream, but it was good enough.

  “Yeah,” I said, my hips pumping into her sweet pussy, her legs on either side of me.

  “Slow down,” she said.

  I frowned, but I did as she asked.

  “I want to be on top of you,” she said.

  For a moment, I had thought she would tell me to stop. I nodded and pulled out, checking the condom as I did. I sat back on the couch, out of breath, not because I was unfit, but because she was hot as hell. I sat back, and she crawled toward me, hips rolled, breasts swinging. She was seductive as hell, and I wanted her to get on my cock as soon as she could.

  She climbed onto me, straddling my hips. She lowered herself onto my cock and let out a breath as she buried me deep inside of her. She shifted a little, getting a feel for me, before she started rocking back and forth, moving her hips.

  She slid up and down my cock, torturing me with her tight pussy. I had her breasts in front of me, and I reached for them, squeezing them, tugging lightly at her nipples. She gasped, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, a brilliant contrast against her milky skin.

  I put my hands on her hips and pulled her closer to me, helping her with her rhythm. Her lips were parted, moans escaping, and I reached between her legs with one hand, pressing my thumb against her clit.

  She gasped, eyes shooting open. They were the color of slate with her pupils so dilated, I could barely see the gray rim of her irises. She rocked her body back and forth, rubbing her clit against my thumb.

  Her breathing changed, gasps turning into moans, and her eyebrows knitted together, her face orgasmic.

  It didn’t take long before her body tightened, her walls clamped down on my cock, and spasms rocked her body. She cried out, and her body curled around mine. She leaned forward, head against my shoulder, and for a moment, she didn’t breathe as she hit her climax. Then she gasped for air, her body going slack.

  I held her hips, pulling her against me. Her ass lifted a little, and it was the angle I needed. I bucked my hips, fucking her from beneath, drawing out her orgasm.

  She moaned and whimpered against my shoulder. Her breasts lightly tapped against my chest as I fucked her, and she let me take her like that.

  Finally, she sat up. She took my face in her hands and kissed me.

  “Let me take you from behind, baby,” I said. I knew I was pushing it, asking for something that might be too much. I expected her to say no, and if she did, it would be okay.

  She didn’t. She smiled shyly and nodded.

  I wanted to take her in every way I could, but this was the first time and didn’t want to overdo it. This might have been pushing it already.

  She got off me, gasping when I slid out. I knew she was sensitive.

  When we both stood, she turned around, her ass pointing at me, and she was a sight to behold. Her back was muscular and strong, but still feminine. I put my hands on her ass cheeks and squeezed.

  I slid my hand down, finding her entrance, feeling her wetness. I guided my cock toward it, checking the condom again, and pushed into her from behind.

  She cried out when I did and tipped her head back. I started moving in and out of her, and she felt fantastic from behind. Her ass was beautiful, the cheeks round and firm.

  I started fucking her harder. The muscles on her back rippled under her skin, and I put a palm flat between her shoulder blades, feeling her muscles move. I had a fascination with her body because I trained, too, and I knew what went into it.

  I fucked her harder and harder, and she cried out, bracing herself against the couch. I reached around and grabbed her breast, squeezing, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. When she moaned and whimpered, I smiled.

  I let go of her breast and moved my hand down, leaning forward so I could reach her. I slid my hand between her legs and found her clit.

  She whimpered. I was careful not to be too hard on her, and I lightly ran my fingers over her clit. I wanted her to come again. I wanted to bring her to climax another time, and then I wanted to come inside her.

  Her moans and gasps became irregular, and spasms shuddered through her body as she neared another orgasm.

  “That’s it, baby,” I said. “Come for me.”

  She cried out when I said it, and a moment later, she rolled into her second orgasm. Her body was tight around mine when she climaxed. Her back arched and her legs trembled. I felt her milk my cock, and I held onto her hips. I pounded into her, and she cried out. It didn’t take long before I reached my own orgasm. I felt the release and groaned, pumping into her. I emptied myself into her, and she gasped, shivered, and moaned.

  When it was over, her orgasm faded, too, and we stayed like that with me still inside of her and her hands still on the back of my couch. We were both out of breath.

  I pulled out of her. She gasped when I did. She turned and collapsed on the couch. I slid the condom off and disappeared to the bathroom to get rid of it.

  When I got back, she lay on the couch, sated, sleepy. I held out my hand to her.

  “Come with me,” I said.

  She took my hand, let me pull her up, and I led her up the stairs and to my bedroom. She looked around the room, marveling at it. I took her to the bed and peeled back the covers. I got in, pulling her with me, and covered
us up. She snuggled into the crook of my arm, her head on my chest, and this was what I wanted. I wanted to cuddle with her, to hold her. We might have fucked, but I didn’t want it to be about that.

  It wasn’t about that at all.

  “Is that what it was like the first time?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No. This was much, much better.”

  “It was my first time,” she said.

  I shifted a little so I could look at her. She looked up at me, and she was shy, now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I haven’t, you know. Since the accident.”

  I digested that for a moment. “So, I was your first again?”

  She smiled and nodded. I pulled her against me, holding her tightly. There was something very special about that.

  She yawned, and I was tired, too. I closed my eyes. She sighed.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

  “Hmm?” she responded, already falling asleep. I kissed her hair and let it go. It was one more thing she wouldn’t remember, but the most important things, she wouldn’t forget. Not again. I would see to it.

  When I woke up again, the light in the room was all wrong. I blinked. Sadie lay draped across my chest, her hair in my face. I reached for my phone and checked the time.

  “Shit,” I said and wriggled out from beneath her.

  “What is it?” she asked, lifting her head and blinking sleepily at me.

  “I’m late for training.”

  I jumped out of bed and got dressed, not bothering with a shower. I would do that after.

  When I was ready, she had pulled on her clothes that we’d left in the living room, and she was ready to leave.

  A woman that could get ready fast. I liked that.

  “I’ll drop you on the way,” I said to her.

  Her place was halfway between the training center and my place. She lived in a good neighborhood, and her apartment building looked nice. It was good to know she had done well for herself, that despite everything, she was going somewhere with her life.

  “Thank you, for last night,” she said.