This wasn’t fucking. This was really making love. The way he trailed his fingertips along my bare skin sent shivers like waves of light through my body in a way I had never experienced before. He placed his hand over mine where it rested over my sex and linked his fingers through mine. His erection pressed at my hip and I reached down to stroke him there.
Although a deep growl vibrated through his body, his kisses were no longer urgent or demanding but loving and tender. I trailed my hands from his cock up over his rippling torso and ran my fingers over his ink. I was trying to remember every detail of his body. His smell, the planes of his chest and abdomen, the sweet, gravelly noises he made as he tasted me and devoured my nipples sending intense pleasure radiating through each and every nerve ending and almost making come undone. But I fought it. I needed to savour every sensation, every touch. This was the last time I would be in his arms. The last time we would make love. And the last time I would see him.
Rearing up on his strained forearms, he nudged my thighs apart as he gazed down at me with longing and desolation in his eyes. A sob left my throat, and I clung to him as he entered me slowly. Filling me, stretching me, loving me. He lowered himself to rest his body on mine, and I tried to absorb and memorise the delicious feeling of his weight on me so that I could lock it away and keep it for those lonely moments when he had gone. His warm breath and soft lips feathered over my neck, and his heart beat a rhythm that called out to my own.
How would I ever recover? How could I carry on, knowing that he was thousands of miles away? He said he would be leaving a piece of his heart here, but in reality he was leaving with mine firmly in his grasp. I was ruined for all other men.
He rolled his large, muscular body until he was on his back and I straddled him. His gaze was filled with sadness and wonder as he smoothed his hands up my thighs, followed the curve of my waist and cupped my breasts. Once again I melted at his touch, unable to unlock my gaze from his. He gripped my hips and began to move me up and down his rigid length as I tried so hard to imprint the feeling of him deep inside me into my mind. I didn’t want to forget this connection, this feeling of intimacy. I would never have it again.
I ground myself into him, my sensitive, pulsating clit rubbing against the base of his cock as he pulled up to a sitting position and teased my nipple with his tongue and teeth. I couldn’t stop my eyes drifting closed as I relished the wonderful sensations he was creating.
“Kelly, baby, I want you to come. I want you to come while I’m deep inside you and I want to remember the way you feel around me, the way you sound and the way you look right now. I don’t ever want to lose that memory. Ever. Come for me, Kelly.”
His words and the emotion I heard in his deep, gravelly voice were all the triggers I needed as I once again locked my gaze on his and cried out his name, repeating it over and over like a prayer. My body clenched around his and he growled my name as he found his own release. The intense explosion of pleasure I felt battled with the overwhelming sadness flooding through my body and mind.
This was it.
This was the end.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cain
I sat on the plane with my eyes closed as I replayed my last hour with Kelly over and over. Torturing myself with images I would no longer see for real. It was like looking through photographs of the best memories only to know that the people in them were gone forever.
I reached into the little bag I’d picked up at the duty-free shop and pulled out a bottle. It was the same perfume as the bottle Kelly had on her night stand. The fragrance that pulled me in every time I smelled it on her. Removing the little glass rose stopper, I held the bottle to my nose and inhaled but regretted it immediately as the ache in my heart grew. I replaced the stopper, put the bottle back in the bag, and closed my eyes. I rested my head back as the rush of take-off flipped my stomach this way and that. I wondered what she was doing. But as the images of her rampaged around my mind, my eyes began to sting and I immediately opened them and rubbed them hard, eradicating any outward evidence of emotion. I was surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand why a fucking huge tattooed man would be crying on a plane. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone to explain that I’d left my heart back on the ground with a beautiful Scottish girl called Kelly.
Oh God, Kelly. My Kelly. It was over. I was out of her life and she was out of mine. My jaw ached from clenching it so hard, and when the stewardess came around and asked me if I wanted a drink, my heart leapt and I opened my eyes, desperate to see Kelly standing by me. But of course it was another woman with a Scottish accent. A blonde. I shook my head, unable to speak in case I fell apart.
Kelly had handed me an envelope and my iPod just before she left, but she told me I wasn’t to open the envelope until I was on the plane. I promised her I wouldn’t. I’d been clutching at it since take off but every time I tried to open it, a lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t bear to relive the goodbye that was no doubt written in the pages.
The goodbye we had shared physically and emotionally had been almost too much to bear. Holding her in my arms for the last time had been like ripping my beating heart out of my chest. The pain of her loss had battled with the intense pleasure of coming inside of her—losing myself in her one last time. And in spite of my aching heart, my cock remembered the feel of her and wanted more. So much more.
An hour into the flight, and I was still clutching the envelope. I knew it would hurt to read it, but I figured it would be the closest thing to hearing her voice that I would get, and I loved her voice. I could close my eyes and hear her saying my name like she was beside me. But she wasn’t. I needed to open the letter. My heart was broken anyway and I suppose once something is broken beyond repair, breaking it a little more makes no difference. I pulled out the triangular flap with shaking hands. My heart began to pound and my eyes were already stinging.
I unfolded the paper and glanced down at it through foggy eyes. Fuck, I was welling up before I read a single word.
Cain
Knowing you has been one hell of a roller coaster. Things went way beyond what I could ever have anticipated; and although I know it was wrong, I can’t regret it. I won’t allow myself to do so. I’ve learned a lot about myself in the time you’ve been here, and whilst not all of it has been good, I think you have taught me not to settle for anything less than magnificent. As for sex, well, it shouldn’t be just a way to release tension. It should be an expression of deep feelings that words just don’t cover. I never would have expected that it would be a man like you who made me realise this—but you did, and I’m so glad that I discovered it with you.
Thank you for making me feel special, desirable, and loved. I will keep the memories of us with me forever.
I have added some tracks to the iPod. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to give you something that you could use to remember me by—if you want to remember, that is.
The first three tracks are ones I chose especially for you.
Take care and be happy, Cain. And know that whilst I couldn’t say the words out loud—they were simply too painful—I do love you. And you will be forever in my heart.
Yours,
Kelly
I wiped the moisture from around my eyes and looked inside the envelope, hoping there would be a photo, but there wasn’t. My heart sank. I slipped the ear buds into my ears and hit play, holding my breath.
I had never heard the first track before. It came up on the display as “Gunshot” by Lykke Li. Listening to the words, knowing they expressed Kelly’s innermost feelings, squeezed at my heart. Every sentiment she was experiencing at losing me was evident there in the words ringing around my head, and I clutched my chest with one hand and the letter in the other. These were my last connections to the woman I loved beyond all sense and reason. Through the song she talked of the pain she knew I was feeling and that she was feeling it too. I’d had no idea she felt so strongly; she had never told me she loved me. But having
read her letter, I now knew that it was because it was too painful. I totally understood even though it was killing me not to have heard her say the words.
The next song was slow and sultry, and the familiar voice of Alanis Morissette singing “Til You” sent shivers down my spine. She passed on the message from Kelly that her life had been some kind of a rehearsal until I arrived in it. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and my throat constricted as I fought the pain and anguish desperate for release from within me. I listened and let the tears fall unabashedly now, grateful that the seat beside me was empty. She had been drawn to me from day one and I had experienced the same pull. Like we were pieces of a puzzle that were incomplete without each other. How the hell do you move on from that? How the hell do you move on and leave a love like that behind? How do you face an uncertain future alone and without the one person who helps you make sense of the all the shit going on in your head? I guess I was about to find out, and knowing that fact knotted me up until I was leaning forward resting my head in my hands and sobbing like a fucking baby.
At the end of the song I hit pause and wiped my face on the sleeves of my sweater. I leaned my head on the window and peered out at the lights of passing cities and towns below. I could just make out the multicoloured festive lights blinking as we left mainland Scotland behind and an overwhelming sense of loss almost took me down again.
Kelly’s third and final message to me came as the lyrics of “The Only Exception” by Paramore. I had learned from very early on in my relationship with Kelly that I was her only exception. She didn’t trust men. She didn’t sleep with patients and didn’t let herself fall in love. But with me she had submitted to all three of these changes. And from the words of the song, as they brought on a fresh batch of emotion welling up from deep inside me, I would always be that one person who made her see things differently. The one who made her dare the step outside of her comfort zone. I wasn’t exactly proud of some of it—enticing a doctor to be sexually intimate with a patient was not something I could put on my résumé—but knowing I’d had an impact on her life like she’d had on mine made me smile in spite of the loss I was feeling. And from my returning memories, I had discovered that she too was my only exception. I had only ever loved one other woman; and from what I remember of losing Melody, I swore that I would never go through that again. Until I met Kelly and she stole my heart, the old me had presumed I was broken beyond repair. I was no good to anyone as a lover or a friend. I didn’t want to love or be loved. She changed that about me.
She was my only exception.
As the track ended, a smartly dressed woman in an air steward’s uniform walked down the aisle, handing out drinks. I took a soda and paid for it with the last of my Scottish notes. Another twinge of sadness niggled at me and I had to turn away and focus on the blackness outside the window once again.
Over fifteen hours later, I unlocked my motel room door and stepped inside. I hadn’t slept much on the flight, and I’d met with the police and other officials at the airport who had talked at me for God knows how long. I was handed a stack of documents and contact numbers along with a brand-new cell phone. If I hadn’t been so fucking exhausted, I would have been grateful and impressed with how they had dealt with me. As it was, I was mainly stunned at how familiar yet oddly foreign their American accents seemed.
I fell into bed fully clothed, and sleep took me almost immediately…
“Cain, you have to get out of here. Who knows what they’ll do next? We’ve already lost Melody.”
“Rosa, I’m not going anywhere. They’re not scaring me away. This is my home. My life is here. And fuck if I’m going to run scared. And Melody fell down the stairs. It was a freak accident.”
The colour drained from Rosa’s face. “I… I overheard Colt and Six talking…”
I sat up straight. Bile rose in my throat and my stomach roiled as if I knew what was coming. “And?”
“And… they were involved, Cain. And… and I think you’re next.”
My eyelids fluttered open and for a few moments I was completely disoriented. I glanced at the bedside clock. I’d somehow managed to sleep eleven hours. Fuck! I crawled out of bed and went to the tiny bathroom, where I took a quick and very cold shower. I was planning to do some of my own research and find out who the fuck had Rosa—and what the hell had happened to Melody. I had no clue how the hell to go about it, but what I lacked in know-how, I made up for in sheer fucking determination.
If my returning memory served me correctly, there was a library just along the road from the motel; it was as good a place as any to make a start. Plus if I kept busy, I wouldn’t mope, wondering what Kelly was doing. Just thinking about her made my chest ache. I pictured her sitting on her office couch with her glasses on while some patient told her all about their problems. Would she be listening or would she be drifting off and thinking of me? My stomach flipped and I rubbed my hands over my face. The last thing I needed was to get lost in some pointless fucking fantasy about a Scottish girl that I couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.
I had to put her out of my mind and get on with picking up the shards of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cain
With my memory almost back to what it should be, I walked down the street and decided to call into the coffee shop and grab a caffeine fix on the way to the library. There was some serious heavy metal parked directly outside, and a buzz of familiarity trilled through my veins as I examined it more closely.
I stepped through the door and immediately made eye contact with a bearded and tattooed guy in a leather vest, around my age, peering at me over his shoulder like he’d seen a ghost. Keeping his stare locked on me, he swivelled around in his stool and shook his head.
“What the fuck?” I walked to stand in front of him, and he stepped down from his perch and pulled me into a strong-armed embrace, slapping me on the back. “I knew you’d fucking come back, dude. I just knew it.”
The word six jumped into my mind for some bizarre reason. “Hey, hi. I guess I know you?” Why wouldn’t his name come to me? He clearly knew who I was.
He pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “Know you? You’re like a fucking brother to me, man. What the fuck happened to you? You don’t know me?”
I narrowed my eyes and chewed on my lip, trying to fit a name to the oh-so-familiar features. The word six rattled around my head again. “I’m sorry, man, but the only word that comes to me is the number six.”
He laughed heartily and threw his head back. “Fuck, man, don’t do that to me. You totally freaked the shit out of me. Thank fuck! I thought someone had been messing with your head.” He pulled me into another hug and continued laughing.
Realisation hit me. “You’re Six! That’s your name!” The memory came flooding back and images flashed through my mind of us riding motorcycles side by side on an open road, laughing and pranking on each other.
He pulled away again. A worried frown appeared to cloud his features. “Fuck, dude. You really didn’t know me?”
“I… um… I’ve been suffering from some kind of post-traumatic amnesia. Things are coming back to me gradually, and I’m almost back to normal… whatever that is… But I have lots of questions. I need answers, man. I need them now.”
Clenching his jaw he paused and nodded. “Can I get you a coffee? We can talk.”
I nodded. “Flat white.”
He turned his attention back to the young guy behind the counter and ordered my drink. Once the order was placed in front of him, he grabbed the steaming mug and nodded toward a booth at the rear of the shop. “Let’s go back there. It’s quieter.”
I followed him and he placed my coffee down and slid into the seat and so I took the bench opposite.
“So… where the fuck have you been, man?”
How did he not know the answer to that? “I ended up in Scotland. Fuck knows how I got there. But I was found unconscious with a fucking suicide note.”
For so
me reason Six didn’t seem shocked by my story, which made me very suspicious.
“It’s good to see you, buddy. People have missed the crap out of you.”
“They have? That’s nice.” I had so many questions that I didn’t know where to start. Had I trusted Six before? I was pretty sure I didn’t right now. “Six… I need to know what the hell happened to me. And to Rosa. My memory is sketchy at best and…”
“Your memory’s sketchy?”
Did he look relieved?
“Yeah… yeah, like I said, I suffered some kind of post-traumatic amnesia. Things are coming back gradually but… well, there are still blanks.”
Worry glazed his eyes. “Sure there are.” He glanced down at his phone and back to me. “So where were you heading off to?”
“Library. I figured I’d look at some old newspapers.” I waited while he typed something onto his phone’s screen and nodded. Not sure whether or not he was actually listening, I continued. “Maybe find out what the hell happened to get me to Scotland.”
His phone buzzed and he was clearly distracted by it. “Yeah. Good idea. Look… I gotta run. But… how about I meet you tomorrow? Maybe I can help fill in some of the gaps.”
He glanced nervously around the coffee shop and then back to his phone.
Bad Company: Company of Sinners MC #1 Page 19