Arching her back, she let out a moan.
I continued to caress her, my thumb finding her clit. “My beauty, you’re so fucking wet for me.” My thumb rubbed her sensitive bud, making circles, pressing harder, picking up speed.
“Oh, God,” she spluttered as she bucked against my touch. I could feel her hypersensitive clit harden beneath the pad of my digit. Sexy whimpers filled her throat, the sounds of her arousal growing more and more impassioned. I fucking loved how responsive she was. I hungered for more of her. I wanted to stroke her, touch her, eat her, fuck her. I wanted to own all of her. This was my kingdom. My bed.
Removing my thumb from her clit, I put it to my mouth and sucked it. Fuck. She tasted delicious. So sweet and pure.
“Ryan, please. I need more.”
I fucking loved that she was begging for me.
Hungrily, I splayed my hands on her tight inner thighs and spread her legs further. Keeping my hands in place, I leaned forward and buried my face in her pussy. I inhaled through my nose. Oh, God, she smelled intoxicating. I couldn’t wait to get another taste of her. On my exhale, my tongue darted out and I began to flick and lick her swollen clit. Fuck. So, so good. I wondered—is this what ecstasy tasted like? I’d never done drugs, but if love was a drug, I’m sure it tasted like this incredible woman. I was addicted. I couldn’t get enough of her, and she couldn’t get enough of me. Writhing, she bucked her hips up against me again as an exquisite cry escaped her lips. The only downside of going down on her was that I couldn’t see the expression on her face. Yeah, I could have gazed up, but I didn’t want to stop my ministrations, break this magical spell of pleasure. The insane pleasure I was giving her. The insane pleasure she was giving me as I sucked and kissed her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. So I used my imagination, picturing in my mind the expression of tortured ecstasy on her beautiful face. Her neck arched, her eyes squeezed closed, her lush lips parted allowing her to breathe and moan.
“Oh God, you feel so amazing.”
I was surprised she was able to speak.
“Please don’t stop.”
I wanted to tell her not to worry. But I wasn’t about to stop what I was doing. The wordsmith that I was, I nonetheless knew actions spoke louder than words.
Going at her with my tongue and my mouth, I was going to redefine “amazing.” Give her an orgasm of epic proportions she’d never forget. Never be able to put into words. On her next frantic breath, I plunged a finger into her fiery entrance, without losing oral contact with her clit.
She let out another desperate cry as I began to pump her and suck her dry. Her cries became screams as I brought her to climax.
“Oh my God, Ryan, I’m going to come. Oh, oh, oh…”
Yes, my beautiful ballerina girl, come. Come all over my face. Come!
“OHHHH!” And as if she heard my command, she exploded, her sweet pussy juddering all over my face, her inner thighs trembling, her body quaking.
Slowly, I pulled out my finger and lifted my head, glimpsing her expression as her body went limp. It was one of pure ecstasy.
“Oh, Ryan, that was so, so, so…”
Cutting her short, I put my drenched finger, the one that had been inside her, to her lips, gently hushing her.
“Shhh. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. We’re not done.”
Her glistening eyes widened.
“It’s time to christen this bed. I’m going to make love to you now. Are you ready?”
Feverishly, she nodded. I loved that she was insatiable. Still on fire. Dripping with desire. Gripping the base of my thick, rigid erection, I rubbed the wide crown along her slick heat, coating and lubricating it with her hot juices. Then I grabbed her slender ankles, slid her down the bed closer to me, and threw her legs over my shoulders. A new position. Like in a ballet. We were perfectly lined up. My cock at her entrance. Still holding the base, I slowly inserted my dick, inch by thick inch, feeling her expand to accommodate my width. As I pushed inside, she let out a soft groan.
“Baby, am I hurting you?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just that you’re so big.”
“And you’re so fucking perfect. So tight. So hot. So wet.”
Deep inside her, I repositioned myself, planting my palms on either side of her torso, and straightened my body until I was hovering over her. Her dainty tits grazed my chest and her warm breath heated my face. I slid my cock inside her until it could go no further. Slowly, I slid halfway down and then slid it back up. I continued these controlled movements, getting into a steady rhythm. Like I said, I was going to take it slowly and break in this new bed. We had all night. And for the first time, we had tomorrow. Willow didn’t know it yet, but she was spending the night.
As we came blissfully together and I held her in my arms, I realized that if life was a book, I was starting a new chapter.
TWENTY-FOUR
Willow
I stretched my legs and pulled the heavenly covers up over my chest.
Mmm. Just five more minutes.
The sound of a soft raspy voice drifted into my ears.
“Hey, sleepy head.”
I blinked my eyes open. Hovering over me was the epitome of virile perfection. The man who’d made incredible love to me last night. The man who’d whispered sweet nothings to me all night long. The man who’d spooned me with his spectacular body. The man whose beautiful bed I’d shared.
Ryan.
“Hi,” I murmured, my voice groggy. Pulling the covers up higher, I sat up and smiled at him. Dressed in sweats and a V-neck tee, he was holding a tray with a blueberry muffin and a container of coffee. The muffin had a pink candle in it. Also on the tray was a small trick or treat bag with a pumpkin face.
“You went out?” I asked, my voice growing stronger.
“Yeah. I went to the Coffee Bean around the corner. Breakfast in bed. Happy Birthday, my beautiful butterfly.”
“You remembered my birthday?”
“How could I not? There were pumpkins all over town, Miss Pumpkinhead.”
Embarrassed, I tried to fix my wild mane of hair. It was futile. I was a bedhead, plain and simple, so I giggled. How sweet of him to remember. Sitting down on the bed, he planted a soft kiss on my lips and then handed me the tray.
“Make a wish,” he said, after lighting the candle with his gold lighter.
I knew what I wanted. I wanted this moment to never end. I wanted more of him in the worst way. Pursing my lips, I blew out the candle.
I drank the coffee and ate the muffin. Ryan then set the tray on his nightstand after handing me the trick or treat bag. Taking off his shoes, he repositioned himself so that he was sitting cross-legged and facing me.
“What’s inside this bag?” I asked.
“A treat.” A mischievous smile curled on his lips. “Go ahead. Take a look.”
Some candy?
Hesitantly, I reached inside, and to my surprise, the touch of velvet met my fingertips. A small rectangular box. I slipped it out.
“What is this?”
“Your birthday present.”
“Ry-man, I don’t need a present. Waking up to you is the best present I could ask for.”
“Open it,” he ordered, jutting out his chin. It was an order. A dominant side of Ryan I’d never seen before. I more than liked it.
Doing as I was told, I snapped open the lid. My breath hitched and my eyes grew wide. Inside was a magnificent necklace with a sparkling diamond-encrusted pendant. A pair of pink enameled pointe shoes.
“Oh my God, Ryan!”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it, but you shouldn’t have. It must have cost a fortune.”
“Just a small fortune. But you had to have it. It belonged to the ballerina who owned this bed.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Let me put it on you.”
My skin prickled as he expertly hooked the breathtaking necklace around my neck.
He s
miled, his eyes drifting down from the pendant to my half-exposed breasts.
“It looks beautiful on you. Go take a look in the mirror.”
My eyes darted around the sprawling room in search of one. And then I found it. Hung above a set of drawers in the far corner. On the chest were dozens of photos of Allee and Ryan. Having not noticed them before, my throat constricted as a sudden rush of insecurity overcame me.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ryan, sensing my unease.
“Ry-man, I can’t accept this gift.”
“What do you mean?”
“You still belong to her.” My watering eyes stayed fixed on the photos.
Following my gaze, Ryan muttered, “Shit. I should have put those photos away.”
“No, Ryan, I understand. If my father married someone new, he could never hide the photos of my mom nor the portrait of her in our entryway. Nor could I.”
Ryan’s anguished expression softened. He stroked my face, brushing away the few tears that had escaped. “Willow, Allee will always be part of my life. She lives in my heart. Dr. Goodman told me that’s why love never dies. Please try to understand that.”
Undying Love. Biting down on my bottom lip, I nodded. Ryan’s blue orbs burned into mine.
“Willow, what can I do to prove that you’re the only one for me now?”
I shrugged. How could I ever replace Allee? My eyes stayed on him as he glanced down at his hands. He drew in a sharp breath, and then to my shock, he tore off his wedding band.
“Ryan, what are you doing?” I gasped as he set it on the nightstand and gripped my bare shoulders. I trembled at his touch as he held me fiercely in his gaze.
“I’m no longer married to Allee. I want to move on. Be with you. Wake up to you and go to sleep with you. Hold your body against mine. Smother you with kisses. Taste your lips on mine. Make love to you every way I can.”
I couldn’t help but burst into soft sobs. Ryan took me into his strong arms and held me until they subsided. He gently tilted up my chin.
“You okay, butterfly?”
I nodded.
“Say it. I need words.”
“I’m good.”
“Good.” His gaze dropped to the trick or treat bag, still on the bed. “There’s something else in that bag.”
Curious, I reached my hand back inside it, withdrawing a plain white business envelope. A birthday card? It didn’t look like one. Ryan confirmed that, apologizing that he didn’t have time to buy one.
“Open it.”
I unsealed the envelope and slipped out the folded sheet of paper inside it. I silently read the handwritten words: Come fly with me, butterfly! Below them was a drawing of a butterfly whose wings looked like two connected hearts. Perplexed, I unfolded the note. Again, my eyes grew wide.
“What is this?” I asked.
“A round-trip ticket to LA.”
Stunned, I let him continue.
“I’m going to LA tomorrow for my best friend’s wedding. I want you to come with me.”
Overwhelmed, I floundered for an excuse. “I-I can’t. I need to look after my father.”
“Don’t worry. I called him this morning. Nurse Hollis will be at his beck and call.
“Nurse Hollis?”
“Yeah, your father invited her for dinner and she promised to keep an eye on him all weekend. He wants you to go.”
Processing this news of my father’s blooming social life, I fidgeted with the charm on my new necklace. As my hesitation slipped through my fingers, Ryan’s hand met mine.
“Well, what do you say?”
“Okay…Yes.”
Grinning, he yanked down the covers and tweaked my nipples. “And what do you say we fuck our brains out right now?”
“Oh, Ry-man. YES!”
A million times yes! Happy Birthday to me!
TWENTY-FIVE
Ryan
I’d been to Los Angeles several times before, but it was a whole different experience with Willow. Getting my meetings with the producer and director of Undying Love out of the way, I was able to spend the rest of my time with her. The Malibu Beach Inn, where we were staying and where Duffy and Sam were getting married Saturday evening, couldn’t have been more idyllic. Our luxurious suite overlooked the Pacific, and we woke up and went to sleep to the sound of crashing waves. Rather than sightseeing, we spent lazy hours in bed making love and took long romantic walks on the sandy beach. The warm, sunny weather was a welcomed reprieve from the cold gloom that had befallen us back home. In the late afternoons, Willow took a long nap, and I just sat there staring at her, both bewildered and beholden that this beautiful angel had come into my life. Like a butterfly in winter. And it was during these times that I took out my notebook and jotted down my thoughts. Random words. I wasn’t sure if they’d amount to anything, but it felt fucking good to be writing again.
The three days leading to Duffy’s wedding went by quickly. At six o’clock on Saturday, we joined a small crowd on the beach to watch Duffy and Sam exchange their vows. Barefoot and in a suit as the wedding was far from formal, I sat next to Willow, holding her hand. She looked ethereal, almost like a bride herself, in a flowy ivory dress and a band of daisies circling her head. Her wild red hair hung loose, cascading over her shoulders.
Marching down steps that led to the beach, the procession began as a hippyish guitar-playing duo performed “Sea of Love.” … Do you remember when we met? That’s the day… On which I married Allee in Central Park. The memory hit me like a grenade. Pieces of shrapnel ripped through me, tearing me apart. Then, as Sam appeared on the landing with her father, the music changed. The guitarists began singing a song that totally undid me. “Endless Love.” The beautiful face of my first love, with her jet-black hair and those expressive dark eyes, filled my head. She was every breath I took, every step I made. As we said our vows in Central Park, our lives had just begun, and just when we had it all, everything was taken away from us. As Duffy took his beautiful pregnant bride into his arms, nausea rose in my chest like a hot air balloon. My hands grew cold and clammy.
“Ryan, are you all right?” whispered Willow, turning to me.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Choking out the words, I leaped to my feet and ran toward the ocean. I didn’t think Duffy or Sam saw me flee because they were both facing the reverend, about to exchange their vows.
I kept running and running and running. My feet sinking into the sand, the gentle waves brushing over my feet, the sounds of the ocean filling my ears, propelling me forward. The sun began to set; pink streaks lit the sky as it turned gray; and not before I long, the sky was pitch black lit up only by a full moon and a bevy of stars. The white crested waves glimmered in the darkness. I’d lost sense of time. I didn’t know how long I’d run or how many miles I’d gone. It felt like a marathon. Breathing heavily, I stopped in my tracks, bending over to catch my breath. As I did, the ugly reality of what I’d done hit me like a giant wave crashing against a rock. I’d deserted my new girlfriend with no explanation and missed my best bud’s wedding. A mixture of guilt and self-loathing pounded me. I felt sick to my stomach. Would they ever forgive me?
Conscious of time, I jogged back to the hotel, too emotionally and physically worn out to run any faster. It took me close to three hours. By my calculations, it must have been close to midnight. The wedding was over, the beach deserted. Staggering into the hotel, I passed some late-night partiers at the bar; neither Willow nor Duffy was among them. Desperately needing a drink, I didn’t stop. In a panic, I sprinted to our suite wondering—what was I going to tell Willow? That I’m too fucked up and you shouldn’t be with me? Or maybe she’d throw those words at me first. If she wanted to break up with me, I couldn’t blame her. A thousand knives stabbed at my heart. Was I about to lose the next best thing that had come into my life?
My breathing labored, I dug out my keycard from my breast pocket and unlocked the door. As I stepped inside, my heart almost stopped. There she was on the cou
ch, one long leg crossed over the other.
“Allee!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
She folded her arms across her chest, looking not too pleased to see me.
“I’m always here, Madewell. I just don’t always manifest myself. I hide in a corner of your heart. I like it there; it’s my happy place.”
“Why can’t I always see you?”
“Only certain things make me appear. To be present. They played our song at the reception.”
“I Won’t Give Up?”
“Yeah. It’s my favorite. I keep it on replay.”
I, in contrast, never played it. I couldn’t. It held too many sad memories for me.
“Madewell, why did you ditch Willow?”
“Allee, I fell apart watching Duffy take Sam into his arms. I couldn’t breathe.”
“You seem to be breathing just fine.” Her voice dripped with her signature sarcasm.
“You don’t understand. It was a trigger.” Dr. Goodman had taught me that word.
“I get it. You regressed, but you gotta let go. You can never take me in your arms again.”
My chest tightened and I felt weighted down by my two-ton heart. Allee was right. She was always right.
“Listen, Madewell, the A-For-Allee Plan didn’t work.”
It sure as fuck didn’t. It was an epic fail. A tragedy.
“It’s time for Plan B.”
“Plan B?”
“Plan B as in B-E…Be. It’s time to exist, Madewell. To live your life. Life isn’t going to be here forever. Trust me, that’s the one thing I know for sure.”
My heart stuttered. I knew that too. Too damn well.
“Life passes by quickly, so don’t waste it.”
I processed her words. I was almost thirty-five and still floundering in a sea of grief.
“Willow…she’s good for you. I really like her.”
Endless Love Page 12