by Liz Crowe
“I owe you that. At least I feel like I do.”
It seems almost like he’s shrinking before me, and I don’t want that. He’s a good man, a strong man, and I know he didn’t do this to himself, so shame is the last thing he should feel. “Have other women really run?” He nods in silence. “Bitches. Weak little bitches. And you don’t owe me a thing.”
“Yes I do. You said you love me. If that’s true, I owe you an explanation, at the very least.”
My hair twists as I shake my head. “Yes. It’s true. And no, you don’t owe me any explanation.”
“Even if I can’t say it back?”
“Even if you can’t say it back.” I run a finger down his jaw, and he tips his head toward it. That simple gesture tugs at my heart again, and I press my palm to his cheek.
“I will, Kimmie. I promise, I will. Not right now, but I will.”
“S’okay. I can love you without you loving me. Happens to people all the time.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t. I just said I can’t say it.”
A gentle chuckle rolls from my throat even as my heart leaps in my chest. “Good enough!”
“Come here.” He pulls me up from the floor after he stands, and then pulls me toward the bed. Once I’m standing there beside it, he undresses me, then undresses himself, and points to the bed. “In you go.” With him right behind me, I crawl in. His arms pull me to him, and I’m awash in the sensations of his strength, his warmth, the softness of his skin, and the scent he’s wearing. My cheek registers the feel of the hair on his chest, and one of my fingers meanders through the dark patch, swirling as it goes. “I was married for a lot of years to Meredith.”
“Yeah. I remember you said that.”
“She got it in her head that I was cheating on her, but I swear to god, I wasn’t. My job required a lot from me, and I spent extra hours trying to make my bosses happy so I didn’t lose it. Funny thing is,” he says with a snort, “in the end, I lost it anyway. So anyhow, I was working a lot of late hours and she was just sure I was cheating on her, but I wasn’t. She kept arguing with me and accusing me, just generally being irrational, and I was getting pretty tired of it. I came home one night, I was really tired, and she just kept yelling at me. Finally, I told her, ‘You know what? If you want to believe that, just do. It’s not true, but just believe it and shut up about it.’ I went in the kitchen and got myself a soft drink. I opened it and went to the bathroom, then came back, read some paperwork, finished the drink, and went to bed.”
Suddenly, I’m sick and terrified of what he’s going to say when he starts again, haltingly trying to recount what happened. “I don’t remember a lot else. I remember going to bed, but I didn’t take my clothes off. The next thing I remember was waking up in the bed, naked, my hands tied to the headboard, and she’d gagged me with a piece of cloth tied behind my head. She’d pulled my shoes, jeans, and boxers off, and there was this weird look in her eyes.”
“I don’t understand how . . .”
“They ran a tox screen at the hospital. She drugged me. Ketamine. There’s no telling how long I’d been out, but from that point on, time was a blur.”
I feel him tremble, and I start to shake. “Please, don’t tell me . . .”
“Yup. She was mumbling something about how that weird Bobbitt woman had the right idea. Then she flashed a box cutter.”
The images that roll through my mind make me sick. “Jaz, you don’t have to . . .”
“Yes. Yes, I do. Kimmie? Please? Can I? I’ve never talked about this with anybody except my therapist.” I feel him shudder again, and I nod against his chest. “I remember every second of the pain. She ripped and slashed like a maniac. Some of the cuts she did fast, and some of them, she buried the blade and dragged it through very slowly. She was sitting on my thighs and there was nothing I could do but squirm and scream. I finally passed out, but not soon enough.”
“Dear god, babe. How did you . . .”
“We lived in a condo. A neighbor heard all the weird noises and called the police. He said he’d never heard anything like it, and it scared him.” He swallows hard, and then adds, “Sometimes when I’m alone, I can hear my own screams echoing in my head. The pain was so intense that it was like an out-of-body experience.”
“But your daughter?”
“Took me three days to find her. Meredith had just dumped her on some friends. I didn’t have my phone with me. We had a landline and an answering machine, though, and my brother went to the condo to pick up some clothes for me and found the message. Her friend’s parents were trying to find us because no one had come to pick her up, and when they brought her home, nobody was there, obviously.”
“What happened to Meredith?”
“The cops arrested her. She got sent up for awhile. It took me over a year to heal. They didn’t know if I’d ever be able . . . well, they didn’t know how it would turn out. I’m lucky it works at all.”
My fingers swirl through his chest hair again. “Looks to me like it works pretty well.”
“Surprisingly well.”
I take a deep breath and sigh it out. “It took a lot of courage for you to tell me all of that. Thanks for trusting me. Have you been in any other relationships since then?”
“Yeah. One. But she was a few years younger. She had little kids and she and her husband decided to get back together. I think she was just looking for some stability. But I never told her all of this. I just told her it was an accident and I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Then why me?”
“You’re different somehow. You’re older, not as fickle. And you weren’t out prowling for a partner. I just stumbled across you. It’s different. You feel like . . .” He stops. I wait. Finally, I can’t wait anymore.
“I feel like what?”
He sighs and kisses the crown of my head. “You feel like home.”
I can’t stand it anymore. “You said that thing still works surprisingly well?”
“Yep.”
My best coy smile and batting of the eyelashes is directed at him. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”
“Is that right? Don’t believe me, huh?” He rolls to his side to face me. “Want me to prove it, huh?”
“Yes. Sir.” I mock. “I don’t think you can really . . .”
He interrupts me with his lips, and the next thing I know, I’m under him and he’s grinning down at me, his upper body lifted by his hands on the mattress. “First, I think I need to return the favor from earlier.” He kisses me, then trails kisses down my body, taking in one nipple and then the other, letting his lips and tongue drive me wild. The downward onslaught continues, and he grips a nipple in each hand as he makes his way toward the prize and stops at my mound. “Soft, baby. And you smell so sweet. I’ve wanted to taste you since the very first second I saw you.”
“Oh, is that right? Well, I guess you’ll get your chance to . . . oh my god!” I cry out as he sucks my clit between his lips, then begins the delicious torture. I’m so wound up and turned on that my brain starts to hum, and I grip the headboard, trying to hang onto whatever sanity I have left.
I hear him murmur, “Over the edge, baby,” and then he triples his efforts. I cry out again and he gives me a muffled, “Let go, Kimmie. Let me hear how it feels.”
“Oh, god! Oh, I’m gonna come, Jaz. Please, oh, you’re driving me crazy. Just crazy. I want it, please? Oh, please? Oh, Jaz, I, I, oh, god, I . . .” My hips pick up the rhythm and I’m tipping out over the abyss when he stops. “What the hell?”
“You wanted to see if it really works. Now’s your chance.” There’s the sound of ripping foil, followed by the heat of his body and, in one smooth, rapid movement, he buries his shaft in me.
Between the curves and twists in his cock and the ridges from the scars, I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before, things that are exquisite and frightening at the same time. Control is a fleeting thing at this moment, and I know when I come, what happens will b
e new and different. But I want it and, more importantly, I want it with him. His breath is hot and sweet in my ear as he whispers, “God, Kimmie, I’ve wanted you so much. You feel so good. Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so damn good.” His thrusts are solid and then turn almost vicious, and I love the power that comes roaring through with each one. My heart’s on fire, my body’s in flames, and I don’t care if I spontaneously combust, as long as I do it with this guy inside me. I’m meeting his thrusts with my pelvis, rocking with him, learning his rhythm, melding together as one, his body hard but his hands gentle as he grips my hips and moves against me. Jaz completes my soul. I’ve waited all my life for this.
And the orgasm takes me completely by surprise. The room explodes into colors behind my eyelids and I can’t catch my breath, just feel the deep gnawing sensation as it powers through my body and shakes me to my core. I hear him murmur, “Oh, Kimmie, you’re mine, girl. All mine,” and then he grunts out his release, digging deeper into my hips with his fingers, seeking deeper refuge and finding it at the very last minute.
I’ve had problems in the past with the weight of a man, that claustrophobic feeling that it sends through me, but Jaz’s weight is comforting. I wrap my arms around his waist and take a deep breath, pulling in that scent of our sex and the spicy aroma of his cologne. After what seems like forever, he rolls us to our sides and takes my face in his hands, and then he kisses me. My mind makes every effort to record that kiss so I can replay it later, remember what it was like to lie there with him in the darkening room, the taste of those firm, soft lips, the brush of his scruff against my chin. I breathe a soft little kiss onto his nose. “I love you, Jaz.”
He kisses me again, then returns the kiss on my nose and says the words my heart is aching to hear. “I love you too, Kimmie. I’m not afraid anymore.”
I feel the smile stretch slowly across my lips, and I want to stare into those beautiful brown eyes forever. “Hold me while I sleep?”
“All night.” The lamp clicks off and we’re alone in the dark, me and Jaz and this sweetness that’s captured our attention and changed our hearts. “All night long,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m never letting go.”
*****
The bed is a tangle of legs, arms, sheet, and blanket. And I can’t find my pillow, which doesn’t matter, because I snuggle up to Jaz and rest my head on his chest. I’m not sure he’s awake, but his hand comes up and strokes my hair softly, so I’m guessing he’s in at least some form of wakefulness. When his eyes finally open, I smile up at him and he smiles back. “Good morning,” I manage to whisper.
He drops a feather-weight kiss on my forehead. “Yes, it is. It really, really is. And good morning to you too, morning glory.”
“I suppose I should go, huh?”
He just shrugs. “Got somewhere you’ve got to be? It’s Sunday, after all.”
I just shake my head. “Nah. Well, actually, yeah. There’s this hot guy, and he’s great in the sack, and I want to see him and jump his bones again.”
He snickers. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right. You might know him. Tall-ish, kind of . . .”
“‘Tall-ish?’ Really? You just called me tall-ish?” He doesn’t play incensed well.
“Yeah, you’re what, five eleven?”
“I’ll have you know that I’m six even.”
I snort out, “Oh, well then, sorry. My mistake, Jolly Green Giant!” Next thing I know, he’s tickling me. “Hey! You should probably stop that! I’ve gotta pee!”
He throws his hands back in mock surrender. “Noooo. Don’t want any of that. Go get rid of it and come back. Geez, girl. I’m not into that.”
“Me neither. Be right back.” I run to the bathroom and almost don’t make it. I make a mental note: If I’m going to be here very often, I need some baby wipes under the sink. And a toothbrush. Shit – I don’t have a toothbrush here. I call out from the toilet, “Hey, do you by any chance have an extra toothbrush?”
“Um, not unless I’ve got an extra one that the dentist gave me at my last checkup. Check the drawer on the right-hand side of the vanity.” I look. Nope. No extra toothbrush. “You know, you’ve had your tongue down my throat countless times in the last however many hours. If you use mine, it really won’t bother me.”
After staring at it for a few seconds, I just grab it, shoot some toothpaste onto it, and start brushing. I can hear Jaz laughing out in the bedroom. “What’s so funny?” I come strolling out of the bathroom, naked as a jaybird, and he’s still laughing.
“You. Silly woman. Come here and sit down beside me.” He’s propped up in the bed with the pillows – apparently he found mine – and he pats the mattress beside him. I slide in and lean into him, and his arm wraps around me. I feel protected and loved with that one simple action. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here too. With you.”
He smiles and kisses my forehead again. “I see you’re not wearing your collar. I thought you wanted to wear it.”
“It kept getting hung on the neckline of my top yesterday, so I took it off. But it’s in my purse.”
“That’s not good. If you want to wear it, I guess you need something a bit nicer, huh?”
“You gave it to me. It’s plenty nice enough.” Our hands are intertwined and lying on his thigh, and the sight makes my stomach do little flip-flops of joy.
“Listen, last night was great.”
I nod. “Yes. It was.” I’m scared to death of what he’s going to say next.
“I don’t want it to be the first and last time by any means.”
Whew!, my inner voice whispers. “Well, I should hope not!” I declare, trying to sound jauntily offended, a big, dopey smile on my face.
“Good. Kimmie, last night was just a man and a woman. Do you really want some kind of D/s relationship?”
“Do you?”
“Answer the question, please.”
I huff. “Yes. I’d like that. It makes me feel . . .” I’m fishing for the word.
“Secure?” he offers.
“That’s it. Secure.”
“Okay, then. I’d prefer it too. It makes me feel more manly,” he says, using his best lumberjack voice.
“You don’t need any help in that department.”
“Oh, don’t think so?”
I shake my head with a huge grin on my face. “Nope. You’re plenty manly enough.”
“And just how manly am I?” He’s looking at me out the corner of his eye, and he sticks his hand down under the covers and starts to stroke himself.
Whooooo-boy, I’m liking this. “Pretty damn manly. Want me to show you how manly?”
He grins like a little kid. “Yes, please!”
“I think I can handle that.” I drag the covers back and, yep, there it is, winking at me. Honest to god, I look at it and think how lucky I am that I get to see it, that he trusts me that much. I manage to flip myself over and between his legs, and I open wide and draw his semi-erectness right in. I love his musky smell, and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself, listening to him groan just a bit with each stroke.
And then I hear a voice say, “Hey, Daddy! What’s going . . . OH MY GOD!”
There’s this scramble that I can’t even describe and before it’s over, I land on my ass on the floor on the far side of the bed. I hear Jaz’s voice say, “Melissa! What are you doing home?”
“I just thought I’d . . . were you . . . oh, god, I’m leaving!”
“Melissa! Wait!” Then he says, “Kimmie? What the hell? Where are you?”
I wave an arm from the floor. “Down here. Hiding. Go. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” No I’m not, I think. I’m humiliated. Oh, god, maybe the floor will open up and swallow me. No. I couldn’t be that lucky. I hear Jaz rustling around, probably for his jeans, and then the sound of his feet hitting the floor as he runs down the hallway.
I just drag the sheet off the bed and roll up in it like a burrito. What else can I do? I wa
s sucking a man’s cock when his teenage daughter walked into the room. True, she should’ve let him know she was in the house, but I guess she thought she’d surprise him.
Well, it worked.
My face is so red that I’m pretty sure if I put it to the floor, it would burn a hole in the hardwood. I wait for what seems like forever, and I can hear their voices occasionally. I catch the following phrases: “had no idea you were coming;” “can’t believe I saw that;” “so horribly, terribly gross;” “wish you’d at least called to let me know;” “scarred for life;” and “not apologizing for what I do in my own bedroom.” Yeah, Dad, you tell her.
I want to get up and put my clothes on, but I’m terrified the door will open and there she’ll stand. Shit. I don’t know what to do, so I just lie there. The mix of voices dies down and, after about twenty minutes, I hear a soft “Kimmie?”
“Down here.”
I look up and Jaz’s face is sticking off the side of the bed and staring down at me, and it’s wearing a grin that stretches from cheek to cheek. “Hey, baby! It’s okay. You can come up here.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m all tangled up in this sheet.” Trying desperately to get myself unwound, I think I’m becoming more tightly wrapped, like one of those finger cuff things you get as a party favor.
“Here. Let me help you.” Jaz plops down in the floor and helps to unwrap me, and I wait for the circulation to return to one of my arms. “I’m so sorry, honey. I had no idea she was coming home. She never said a word.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He pulls me into his lap and smooths my hair. “Her girlfriend broke up with her and she’s really down. She just needs some ‘dad’ time.” I guess he gets a good look at my face because he smiles at me. “Listen, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay, really. She’s cool with it.”
“That’s not what I heard coming down the hallway.”
“I think the shock’s worn off. Want to get dressed and come in here with us?”