47 Things

by Lilliana Anderson

  His eyes travelled downward, taking in my naked torso, his light eyes darkening with hunger as I reached down and lifted his t-shirt, pushing it up over his chest until he helped me remove it the rest of the way, and we dropped them both on the floor beside us.

  I allowed my hands to travel up over his hard muscles, each one neatly defined from the V shape that pointed temptingly below the waistband of his cargo shorts to the groove between each abdominal muscle, and the smooth flat curve of two perfect pecs. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed our skin together, the feeling almost surreal as his heat melded against my soft flesh.

  Letting out a moan of his own, as his hands moved down to my waist, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my pyjama shorts and he pushed them downward, carefully lowering them to the ground, and trailing his fingers up the length of my legs as he stood again then leaned down to lift me and carefully lower me into the warm water.

  I shook with desire and nerves, my breathing ragged as he leaned over to pick up the washcloth before he began to bath me.

  “What are you doing, Tyler?” I asked in a whisper, unable to find my voice because I was so turned on by every gentle touch of his hands.

  “I’m taking care of you,” he replied, his own voice husky, and his breathing heavy. My eyes lowered to his shorts where there was an impressive amount of tenting going on, and it caused my core to clench with need.

  “Why?” I needed to ask.

  “Because I want to,” he said, his eyes meeting mine as his hands slid in slow circles over my oiled skin, down between my breasts and over my stomach, down to my core where his fingers brushed lightly between my legs before travelling torturously down my right leg toward my foot before he carefully lifted my leg from the water and took my razor from its holder on the wall.

  “I’ll be careful,” he assured me, positioning it at my ankle before taking long measured strokes, all the way up to my knee and around my calf before sliding his hand all over my skin and testing the smoothness. When he was satisfied, he slid his hand all the way up my thigh, again brushing so close to my core that it made me gasp, before sliding his hand down toward my other foot and starting the process again.

  I felt an aching between my thighs unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and I wanted him to touch me, just as much as I wanted him to continue his sweet torture.

  When he was done, he pressed a kiss to the top of my foot then lowered my leg back into the water, his hand travelling back up toward my throbbing apex. This time, he shifted his position and leaned down toward me, his mouth meeting mine as his hand cupped gently between my thighs, rubbing back and forth.

  I released a long moan as one finger slipped between my folds and brushed lightly over my clit before sliding backward and circling slowly around my opening, driving me wild with the urge to have those fingers slip inside me.

  “Do it,” I gasped, my insides aching, screaming for his touch, and he groaned pleasurably, but moved his hand so he was cupping my core once more then slid it completely away, up my body, over my breasts where he gently rolled my hardened nipples between his fingers then withdrew from me completely.

  I whimpered from the loss of his touch, wanting him back, my breathing heavy while my body screamed for release.

  Then I felt his hands return to me as he tilted my head back and poured warm water over my hair before massaging shampoo into my scalp with his magical fingers that just made my desire for him grow to an almost insurmountable level.

  “Lie down in the water,” he instructed, placing one hand at the base of my head to support my weight as he used the other to rinse the shampoo from my hair. It felt wonderful to have his fingers raking through my hair as the water in my ears forced me to concentrate on the sound of my breathing, and the motion of the water as he moved his hands, making me feel completely cared for and wanted.

  When my hair was clear of soap, his hand slid down my body again, and I could hear my breathing increase as his fingers slipped between my folds and over my throbbing clit before sliding inside me.

  My moan sounded loud but muffled in my ears as his fingers rolled in and out of me, pressing me in all the right places as he pressed his palm against my clit and moved his hand against it in a way that pushed me over the edge and had me exploding around him.

  “Oh god,” I called out, my hands gripping the edges of the bathtub as my back arched and my core clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

  Then I forced myself to sit up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my wet body against him as I brought my mouth to his, kissing him deeply as I longed to feel him inside me.

  “I know I should do the right thing and leave you alone,” he whispered. “But, I can’t stop thinking about you.” His hands slid beneath me and he lifted me out of the water. “I can’t stop wanting to be around you.” He rested me carefully on the edge of the bathtub and grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around my shoulders. “I can’t stop wanting to take care you.” He took the other towel and used it to carefully dry my legs and feet. “I can’t stop wanting to touch you.” He moved his fingers slowly down the length of my leg before slipping the sock and boot in place. “You’ve been there, right in front of me, all this time…” He swallowed hard, a pained look on his face as he searched my eyes as if he was trying to find the answer to one of life’s greatest problems.

  “So you broke my ankle and forced me to fall for you?” I asked with a smile as my eyes filled with emotion, my heart still afraid of the way he made me feel, but I wanted him just the same. I wanted anything I could have, because this feeling, it was too big to pass up.

  Letting out a slight laugh, he stood and used the towel to dry off my hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. That was never my intention.”

  Somehow, I knew that he wasn’t necessarily talking about causing my fall, but I didn’t want to hear any talk about pain. I just wanted him as he was, as I was, right in that very moment.

  Standing, I let the towel fall from my body and slid my hands up over his chest and around his neck. “Just don’t hurt me again,” I whispered, looking into eyes and seeing the flash of something in them that I didn’t want to face.

  “I can’t promise you that,” he whispered hoarsely, causing my throat to tighten and my heart to clench tightly.

  “Then don’t hurt me today,” I said, just before I pressed my mouth against his in a deep searing kiss that he responded to with equal fervour, his hands moving down my body and gripping me either side of my thighs as he lifted me up, and pressed me against the wall as my legs wrapped around his middle as he rolled his hips against mine, pushing delightfully against my core, causing my thighs to grip around him tighter.

  “I want you, Tyler,” I gasped. “I want you.”

  He responded with a moan as he lifted me from the wall, kissing me further as he carried me into my room and placed his knee on my bed, gently lowering me down. Then, holding his weight on his hands either side of me, he pulled back slightly and looked into my eyes.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

  I nodded. “I want you,” I said again, running my hands down his body to push at the waist of his shorts.

  Pressing a brief kiss to my lips, he withdrew his body from mine and stood at the foot of the bed, reaching into his back pocket and producing a condom that just happened to be in there.

  I bit my knuckle as a grin spread across my lips. Then I swallowed hard as I watched him undress then slide the condom over his impressively sized cock. “It should be illegal to look as amazing as you do naked,” he murmured as he climbed back on top of me, pushing my legs open as he came to rest over me.

  “I’m not naked,” I gasped as he ran his teeth along the curve of my jaw. “I’m wearing the boot.”

  Chuckling, he moved again and pressed a kiss to my lips. “The boot is hot,” he joked as he positioned himself between my legs then locked his eyes with mine causing things to become v
ery serious.

  I ran my hands up his muscular back, then threaded my fingers into his thick hair as I watched the emotion flicker through his eyes as he slowly sunk himself inside me, filling me deeply in the sweet torture of his rolling hips.

  “Oh god, Tyler,” I moaned, feeling my insides push and pull with each steady stroke as he redefined the meaning of making love and turned it into something so much more – so much more sensual, so much more intense, so much more…everything.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him, moaning as his thrusts slid deep inside me, each one, driving me closer toward a world altering climax, because I knew this was it. I knew that it didn’t matter how long things between Tyler and I lasted for, I was already gone. He owned me the moment I fell, and he owned me as I shuddered around him and called out his name, causing him to shudder and spill himself inside me, his pulses deep and throbbing, his release mimicking my own. And I knew that from that moment on, my life would be forever changed. I just didn’t understand how much.

  11

  “PACK A few things in a bag, I need you to come with me to my place,” Tyler said as he buttoned up his shorts after we’d been forced from my bed by the rumbling of our stomachs.

  “Are we going to go through the whole ‘stairs of doom’ argument again?” I responded, sitting on the edge of my bed as I pulled on a pair of shorts and a fitted singlet before I secured my very messy hair into a high ponytail.

  He leaned down and kissed me, placing his hands on the bed either side of me. “No. It’s just that I have a few things to do, and I don’t want to waste any time driving there and back here when I could just have you beside me.”

  “Hand me my bag then,” I conceded, far too easily for my liking. But, at the time, I wasn’t interested in putting up a fight, I wanted to spend every moment with him as well.

  Grinning, he did as I asked, making it a little difficult for me to get my clothes in the bag as he wrapped his arms around my waist with the pretence of helping me move about the room, but really, he was just kissing my neck and feeling me up.

  “All right, I’m ready,” I laughed, turning in his arms and wrapping mine around his neck.

  “You are so incredibly beautiful,” he said, moving his head just enough that his nose brushed upward on my cheek.

  “I could say the same about you. I swear the gods spun you from golden thread and put the water from the most picturesque island on the planet in your irises,” I replied, causing his mouth to twitch up at the sides as if he found what I said amusing. “Was that too much?” I asked, my cheeks suddenly flaming as I released my grip around his neck and began to pull away.

  He caught my hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing the centre knuckles on each one. “No. It was probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Makes me wish I was poetic enough to describe you so eloquently.” Then he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me in a way that just made me want to remove all his clothes and ignore my body’s call for food and just feast on him.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling away and lifting my bag, making the decision for me. “I’ll piggy back you down the stairs.”

  ***

  Tyler’s apartment was not what I expected. I’d thought he’d be in some type of basic housing like I was; instead, he was living in a complex of luxury apartments that even had a pool and spa, and a gym area.

  He had to swipe a card to get in to the massive marble tiled foyer, complete with a concierge who welcomed him by name.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed as he led me down the hall toward his apartment. “No wonder you wanted me to come and stay with you.”

  “It’s no big deal. This is just my father’s way of throwing money at a problem he doesn’t want to deal with.”

  “Your father thinks you’re a problem? Why?”

  He looked at me quizzically for a moment. “You really don’t have much to do with people back home do you?” he asked, and I shook my head. “I just caused a bit of a stir before I left. And a son of Graeme Lohan should be ‘strong and controlled at all times’,” he mimicked before shaking his aggravation away and moving on. “My mum is actually the one who chose this. I would have been happy anywhere that wasn’t Moama when we first moved up here.”

  He pushed the front door open and stood to the side, as I swung my crutches, moving inside. “Wow,” is all I could say as I looked around the open living area that was filled with an abundance of natural light, but was still stayed incredibly cool thanks to what I figured was double glazed windows that ran from floor to ceiling.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said, throwing his keys on a frosted glass side table as he walked past me and kissed me on the top of my head.

  He disappeared into another hallway while I just stood in awe still looking at the living area. I figured his mother must have helped with the decorating as well because everything matched and there were even vases with large white lilies arching out of them which didn’t much seem like something a twenty-two year old guy would care about doing.

  The floors were a cool charcoal slate, and his tables were all stainless steel and frosted glass, while his chairs and couches were crisp white leather. It was all so open and airy feeling, and it felt as though I’d stepped into a modern paradise where mess didn’t exist and the only evidence that a young guy lived there was the fact there was a giant TV attached to the wall with a couple of gaming consoles in the shelving beneath it.

  “I’m surprised you own an Xbox,” I called out.

  “Why is that?” I heard him from wherever he was.

  “You just don’t seem the type.”

  “And what type is that?” he asked, appearing at the mouth of the hallway he’d disappeared into.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, the type who sits around gaming.”

  “Normally, I’m not. But sometimes, it has its appeal. I’m making food, you want a sandwich?”

  “Ah, sure,” I said, still taking in my surroundings as I made my way toward his kitchen and settled myself on one of the chrome stools with my crutches leaning up against the island.

  “I have ham, and I have chicken. There’s a bunch of salad, and I think this is tabouli?” he says, the last part more of a question as he lifts the lid and inspects it more closely. “Yeah, it’s tabouli.”

  “I’m happy to eat whatever,” I replied.

  “Then I’ll just make ‘everything’ sandwiches,” he stated with a wink as he began to collect ingredients.

  I looked around some more, noticing a stack of his study notebooks and Uni folders sitting off to the side. On top, was a leather bound journal that had one of those long leather straps wrapped around it and a pen tucked within its twines.

  “This is beautiful,” I commented, picking it up and turning it over in my hands. “Was it handmade?”

  Lifting his head, his hand reached out quickly and he gently removed it from my grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “I forgot that was there,” he said, running his hand over the smooth surface. “I um…I don’t know where it was made. It was a gift. I um…write stuff down in it, just thoughts and shit, you know?” he explained sheepishly.

  “So, kind of like a diary? You keep a diary?”

  He released a nervous laugh. “Let me guess, you didn’t think I was the type?”

  I shrugged and tilted my head to the side. “I just think it’s a really beautiful journal, Tyler, and I give you my word that I’ll never look inside it.”

  Glancing up at me, he gave me a relieved smile, before he placed it back on top of the pile, holding his hand over it reverently. “Thank you,” he said, before returning to the sandwiches and leaving me to wonder what in the world a guy like Tyler would put on the pages of leather bound journal that he was so protective of.

  SUMMER, 2010

  12

  AFTER TAKING our final exam, we spent the next month practically living together, and enjoying our freedom while we awaited graduation. It was enough to make me fool myself
into believing that he was never going to leave, even though deep in my stomach and in the back of my mind there was always this nagging worry that it would all be over soon and he’d leave and never come back. I knew I should have demanded to know where and why he went, but I had convinced myself that I could live with whatever I could have of him – I was that desperate to be around him. Even in my own mind, that sounded pitiful, but it was Tyler, and he was…well…everything.

  Slowly, my foot healed and life was so much easier when I could walk on it again, albeit in the boot, but I was able to move more freely, and it wouldn’t be long before the boot would be removed all together, and I could start to get back to normal, and I even entertained the idea of going running with Tyler when I could again.

  Basically, I’d settled into our newfound couple status, and I was enjoying the fact that I was the only girl Tyler had ever had an actually relationship with. It made me feel special, which was part of the reason I could ignore my nagging fears.

  Janesa was ecstatic about our relationship and had no doubts at all. In her mind, we were all married and living in the same cul-de-sac with pigeon pair children of matching ages who would grow up to be best friends. Her enthusiasm was hilarious, but we’d never dated friends before, so she got a little carried away.

  As much as I would have been happy always being around Tyler, we did have to part sometimes. I had appointments to attend while I prepared for the removal of my boot, and he was so dedicated to his health that on top of his regular intense exercise and healthy eating schedule, he also attended these yoga classes that left him exhausted for most of the next day. Personally, I couldn’t understand why he’d want to do that, but he didn’t pressure me to exercise the way he did, and I got the benefit of massaging that glorious body of his whenever he had an ache or a pain.

  “Why do you push yourself so hard,” I asked one day when his calf locked up and he was groaning from the pain. “You eat clean, you work out constantly. If it weren’t for the fact you don’t obsess over your looks and you do smoke pot occasionally, I’d think you had some sort of body dysmorphic disorder.”