A Flawed Heart

by April Emerson

  The heavy rain falls and hisses as it hits the pavement. The once crowded streets are now deserted. Jason grips my hands in his and presses them over my head. The brick scrapes my wrists. He kisses my throat again and I’m reminded of our first kiss, in the alley behind Alexa’s. My flesh grows hot in spite of the cool breeze that blows across my soaking wet body. Jason’s expert touch causes my flesh to tingle everywhere.

  I’m dizzy with the knowledge that this gorgeous, amazing man loves me. All of the doubt I felt earlier dissolves with each of his touches. He groans and thrusts his hips into mine. Lust overcomes me when I feel his huge cock, rock hard and rubbing between my legs. He slides his hands down my arms and pushes my skirt further up my hips. He grips my panties and slides them over my ass. I look over his shoulder, scanning the streets for anyone who could catch us here in the shadows. He sees me look—his eyes are clouded with lust as he pants and licks the rainwater off of his lips.

  “I need you—now. I don’t give a fuck who sees us.”

  He tugs harder on my panties in his lust filled frenzy, and I hear the fabric tear. His eyes dart to mine. His craze breaks momentarily, and is exchanged for an apologetic look. I smile and replace his hand with mine, and rip them from my body. He grins at me with his eyes on my lips, and I laugh as I toss my demolished underwear to the side. His strong fingers are inside me and the rainwater runs down my body and mingles with the wetness that has already risen on my aching lips. Jason’s thumb caresses my clit and his fingers pulse. He looks down to watch what his hand is doing to my body, and puts his forehead to mine as he continues to pump his long, thick fingers in and out of me. I run my hand along his stubble-ridden jaw, and I become breathless as he arouses me with his skilled fingers. My skin throbs and I dig my nails into his scalp as pleasure runs through me.

  “Oh, God. Jason.”

  He opens his belt and pushes his pants aside, just enough to release his huge cock. I feel my heartbeat quicken at the sight of it. He grips my leg, brings my knee to his waist and pushes inside me. I gasp and cry out and he curses and cradles my head in his hand. He grips my ass and he squeezes it as he thrusts.

  “Fuck, I love you.” Jason’s mouth slides down to my neck and his body tenses. I know he’s close to coming. He pulses against me as my hips slam back against the brick. Then, suddenly, he pulls out. He covers my lips with a kiss and pushes his tongue deep into my mouth. He grabs my hand and places it around his cock, then covers my hand with his. He strokes his cock as he kisses me and our hands jerk up and down together until I feel his release.

  He slides his tongue along my lips and we catch our breath. The rain has subsided into a drizzle and I hear footsteps approach. Jason yanks my skirt down and pulls me into his arms, pressing my face against his shoulder as he shields me against his body. I feel him begin to shake, and I look up to see that he’s laughing.

  His eyes are sparkling, and there’s is more happiness there than I’ve ever seen. His joy is contagious, and I laugh with him as I help him to close up his pants. He pushes my rain-soaked hair from my face, and I’m suddenly self-conscious about what a mess I must look like.

  “I must look terrible. My eye makeup has probably melted into a raccoon’s mask.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful than you do, right now.” He kisses me and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

  We jog through the rain back to his car. Once we’re sealed inside he blasts the heat. My wet clothes are uncomfortable and cling to my skin but it’s a minor annoyance and doesn’t distract from how incredible I feel right now. Everything is so perfect. I’m so lucky.

  “We’re gonna stay at my dad’s tonight. I want to get you out of those wet clothes.”

  “Will he be home?”

  “No. He’s working a night shift at the hospital. We’ll be totally alone.”

  My face gets hot anticipating that prospect. Jason reads my mind, and slides his hand along my inner thigh as he navigates the wet city streets with one hand on the wheel.

  * * * *

  We arrive at Jason’s childhood home and, after receiving a judgmental look from the doorman, we arrive at the eighteenth floor. The apartment is completely dark, and I wait in the foyer for Jason to flick on the lights. He stands in the living room next to the piano, and I’m reminded of the first time I came here with Lydia. Everything is so different now.

  “Why don’t you go pick some dry clothes out of Lydia’s closet, and meet me in my bedroom?”

  I do as he asks, finding Lydia’s obscene array of pajamas. I put on a pair of pink, silk sleep shorts and a white tank. I wash my face and towel-dry my ratty hair in Lydia’s bathroom. Then I pad down the hall to Jason’s room. It looks just as I remember it—stark white, large windows, walls covered in books and music—except this time, amid the sea of pillows on the bed, lays a completely naked Jason Taylor. His body is amazing, muscular and toned, covered in ink. I wring my hands together and walk over to him. His beauty continues to make me nervous, even after what’s passed between us. A candle is lit by the bedside and soft music plays from the stereo. I get into bed with him and am enveloped in his heavenly scent and soft, warm skin. I smile, remembering the first night I slept in this bed. How I dreamed of Jason—and touched myself thinking about what he would be like, what he would do and say. And now I’m here with him. He’s my boyfriend. He loves me, and I love him.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  I look down at my hands embarrassed about what I’m about to tell him. “I never told you this, but…I slept here on my first night in New York.”

  “Yeah, I know baby.”

  I prop myself up on my elbow so that I can look at him. “No, not in this house—in this bed.”

  “Wait, you slept in my bed?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

  “Yeah, Lydia had me sleep in here. I sort of…thought about…what you would be like…”

  “You slept in my bed and thought about me?”

  “Yeah, I kind of had a dream about you.”

  “Do you have any idea how sexy that is?” He rolls over and rubs his nose along my throat, and I feel myself melting further into his soft bed. “What was the dream about?”

  “Well, it was sort of like a fantasy. I thought about what would have happened, if you came home and found me sleeping here.”

  “And what did I do when I found you?” he asks, his mouth at my ear. He slips his huge hand under my shirt and envelops my bare breast in it. My nipple hardens at his touch, and his breath tingles on my skin.

  I’m finding it difficult to speak. “Well, we took our clothes off and…”

  “And what?” His eyes are on fire in anticipation of what I’m about to say.

  “How about I show you?”

  Jason pulls away and his mouth drops open at my offer. He lies back and puts his hands behind his head. His now beautifully hard length protrudes from his body, on display for me.

  “By all means, Claire, show me.” His voice is thick with want, and I feel my body temperature rise in response. I sit up and slide my top off and straddle his legs, then slide myself down toward his knees.

  “Well, first I did this.” I bend down and wrap my lips around his cock. He moans as I slowly circle the head with my tongue. I keep my eyes on his as I tease his flesh with my mouth. He licks his lips, closes his eyes, and then I stop and sit up. He looks to me with confusion and disappointment.

  “…and then what happened?” he asks.

  “Then I let you fuck me.”

  He growls as he sits up, grabs my elbows, and then flips me down on my back. He reaches into his nightstand, pulls out a condom and unrolls the latex over his length. I drag my fingernails over his thighs as I admire him, and my breath quickens in anticipation. He pushes my legs apart and hovers over me, supporting his weight on his forearms. His teeth gently bite my shoulder as he enters me, and he thrusts so hard I can feel my flesh opening for him. I grasp his soft hair and he looks deep into my eyes. Pa
ssion and hunger lie there in the haunted, sea green, but I can also see a tenderness that is new.

  “I love you,” he says. He changes his pace to match his gentle words. There’s something different now. Being with him like this is about more than just physical pleasure. I feel connected to him with my body, and my heart.

  “I love you too. I love you, Jason.”

  I kiss him as he rocks his body into me, his hands devouring every part of my exposed flesh—my feet, my legs, my shoulders. The unhurried pace allows me to truly appreciate how good he feels inside me. He kisses my breasts with reverence, and I watch him do it. He brings his mouth to my ear as he quickens his pace, and grips my hair.

  “I was dead inside before you. I was lost. You’re everything to me, Claire.”

  Tears form in my eyes as he speaks. The depth of feeling he has in his heart for me, and his willingness to expose it, pushes me to the heights of pleasure. He thrusts into me harder and faster. I reach up and touch his face. I want him to look at me so he can see what his words mean to me.

  “I know. I know. I feel the same way.”

  He kisses me and we find our release. I cry out, and he squeezes the pillow beside my head. He lingers inside me and kisses my lips, my cheeks, and my eyes. I trace my fingers over his back and feel my heart swell as we lie there, adoring each other.

  Eventually, Jason grabs his cigarettes and opens the window, letting in the crisp, night air. We share a cigarette, talking about everything and nothing, watching the lights shut off in windows across the city. He pulls up the blanket and we lie staring into the darkness together.

  Chapter Eleven

  It’s dark. I can’t breathe or see where I am. Smoke fills my lungs and I cough, trying to rid my body of the poison. I see a lone figure beside the flames, close to being consumed by them. It’s Jason at the edge of the blazing fire.

  He looks like a demon being overtaken by flames. He doesn’t belong here. I need to save him. I try to scream, but I can’t. I choke on the noxious air and fumble toward where he stands so close to the flames—too close.

  Finally I reach him and grab his hand, using all of my strength to force him away from the fire. His eyes are red and wet with tears. Sadness and rage battle across his soot covered face.

  “Jason, please come with me. You don’t belong here anymore. This isn’t you. We have to go. I can take you somewhere safe.”

  I wake up with a start. I’m alone. I blink and pat the sheets next to me, crinkling my eyes at the empty space with expectance, as if it would hear and answer my unspoken question, Where’s Jason?

  A rush of panic floods through me as I look to the door, and then the floor. His clothing litters the carpet. My eyes adjust to the sunshine that streams through the window. I stand up and stretch, and my muscles remind me of what Jason did to my body last night. Then, I hear the steady rhythm of water running.

  The door to the bathroom is unlocked, and I open it. Warm, moist air puffs out, and I hear Jason humming to himself. I push the door open further, and reach my hand out toward the white curtain. It snaps open, and I gasp.

  I’ve seen Jason wet and I’ve seen him naked, but Jason in the shower, covered in soap and glistening, takes my breath away. He smiles brightly and winks at me.

  “Take your clothes off and get in here.”

  I acquiesce, and slip my top and shorts off. My desire to get a better view of his body overrides any self-consciousness. The hot water rolls down my skin, and the pleasurable feeling it brings invites me further into the shower. Jason draws me into him—the magnetic pull between us ever present. I fit against him and enjoy the feel of his skin, as he embraces me underneath the stream of water.

  We stand together is silence, flesh pressed to flesh. I feel him getting hard against me, and I smile knowing that just my mere presence makes him feel that way. I pull my head back to look up at him, and find him gazing at me. His eyes are soft with what I can now say is love, and I can’t look away from the calm that rests where there was once chaos. The fire in his eyes is not diminished, but different—the blaze now smolders with warmth rather than devouring the vessel that holds it.

  His fingertips leave my sides and touch my face. He studies me as I do him, as if we were seeing each other for the first time—new but familiar, like old friends meeting again in another lifetime. I push up onto my tiptoes and strain to meet his lips. He meets me halfway, and the kiss we share begins slowly, with a pace that exists between two people who have chosen each other and know that their choice is right. His hands run through my wet hair and down my back.

  “Everything feels so different now,” he whispers to me, but it feels as if he’s speaking to himself.

  He turns me around so I’m directly beneath the stream of water with my back to him. His hands slide over my slick breasts and down between my thighs. His hardness presses into my back as his fingers caress my wet lips. I turn my head and he touches his mouth to mine, kissing me over my shoulder, his tongue sliding against mine, first with tenderness and then hunger. He grips my hair and holds my head still as he deepens the kiss even further, and then slides his hard length inside me. I cry out and place my hands on the tile to steady myself. Jason’s pace is unhurried. Each slow, gentle thrust almost lifts me off the ground. His cock presses against my ever-present ache. My physical need for him is never satisfied—I always crave more. I always want to feel him deeper inside of me.

  “You’re so sexy. You’re body—so fucking beautiful, so perfect.” His hands skim my flesh, and stop above my pounding heartbeat. “But your heart…your mind…this is what I love about you. Your beauty is secondary to what’s in your soul—the way you see me, it makes me feel hope. I want to be good for you, Claire.” His hot lips press into my shoulder. “I can’t lose you.”

  He thrusts deeper, and his pace becomes quick and hard. A moan escapes me and reverberates throughout the room. “You’re mine. Do you hear me? You’re mine. I love you. You’re mine.”

  His body crashes against me as I try to steady myself, the pleasure he’s making me feel renders me speechless and, I can barely respond to his declarations of ownership.

  “Yes, I’m yours. I’m yours. Always.” I should feel overwhelmed by the weight of the words we’re uttering, but I’m not—they’re true and my heart sings knowing that we both feel the enormity, and the permanence of this.

  He moves faster now and digs his hands into the soft flesh near my hipbones. He pulls me into him as he thrusts and I feel faint and dizzy as my orgasm rips through me. Jason pulls out and I feel him stroking himself quickly until he releases onto my back. He groans with pleasure and turns me to face him. His mouth consumes mine with a passionate and furious kiss.

  After the best shower of my life, I retreat to Lydia’s room to dress. I grab some jeans and a t-shirt from her closet and look down at me feet. My red toe polish is all chipped. I rummage in Lydia’s bathroom and find polish remover and a shade that closely matches what I have on, and sit on her bed to repair the job.

  “I could help you with that.”

  Jason is spying on me from the doorway to Lydia’s room. He leans against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest. His hair is tangled on his head, and his muscular upper body is sheathed in dark blue cotton. His mouth curls up in a smile as he ogles my feet.

  The idea of Jason painting my toes strikes me as oddly erotic. I hold the bottle out to him, gesturing with my eyes for him to go ahead. I slide back on Lydia’s bed as Jason stalks toward me. My breath leaves me as he crawls across the comforter and reaches toward me. My skin anticipates his touch but is disappointed when his hand extends past where I’m seated and touches the stereo beside Lydia’s bed. He pushes a button and Van Morrison softly fills the room. He places a quick kiss on my forehead and retreats to the bottom of the bed, sitting cross-legged as he takes my foot in his hands. He slides his thumb from my heel to the ball of my foot as he kneads the skin. His touch makes me tingle everywhere, and my breath gets qui
cker as I watch him massage me.

  “Have I ever told you that you have lovely feet?”

  “No, but I’ve noticed you looking at them.”

  “Like everything else on your body, Claire, they are stunning.”

  He brings my foot up toward his mouth and his sweet lips gently kiss each toe, one at a time. His gaze stays on mine as I watch his pink lips brushing against my stark, white skin. He places my foot down and picks up the other, repeating the motion of rubbing, and softly kissing. He removes my old polish with a cotton ball and the ice cold of the liquid on my sensitive skin makes me shiver. He slips small pieces of the soft white cotton between each toe and laughs as I squirm from how ticklish it feels. He opens the polish and begins to paint my nails as if he’s done it a thousand times before. I’m trying to hold still in spite of the fact that the sight of Jason at my feet is indescribably hot.

  I smile as his brow furrows in concentration—my pedicure is now Jason’s masterpiece. I look around Lydia’s room and see a picture of Daniel and Eileen.

  “So, when is Daniel coming home from work?”

  Jason doesn’t flinch or look up at me. “Probably not until this afternoon. He’s coming to Brooklyn for Lydia’s art show in a couple weeks.”

  “That will be nice. Are you excited to see him?”

  “Excited? No. Our relationship is strained, Claire. I think I’ve explained that to you.”

  This may not be the best topic of conversation, and I don’t want to upset him right now, but helping Jason to heal his relationship with his father is important to me.

  “Your daddy loves you, you know. I can see it…his love. Sometimes, it’s hard to see things that are too close to you.”

  He stops painting and looks up at me. Anger flashes through his eyes, but it quiets and he sighs. “I suppose that’s true. I could make more of an effort to…forgive him.”