Hell Without You

by Ranae Rose

  She slid both hands behind his head, burying her fingers in his short hair.

  He raised his head, sealing his mouth over hers and slipping his tongue past her lips. The kiss endured for several hard strokes, until the intensity mounting inside her made her spine arch, tipping her face back, away from his. Without skipping a beat, he lowered his hand into her lap and began to stroke her clit.

  He touched her there to the same rhythm he thrust in and out of her to, pushing her to the edge ten times faster than either activity alone would have.

  The hard countertop had no give; every muscle in her body went tense against it as pleasure rushed through her core, making her pussy shrink around his cock. What they’d done the day before had felt incredible, but it didn’t compare to the bliss of losing herself with him so deep inside her, against her, on her…

  Her muscles seemed to turn to jelly as her climax ebbed, and he stopped touching her clit so he could wrap an arm around her waist, supporting her as he finished with a few forceful strokes, burying himself to the root each time.

  When he pulled out, she leaned back against the wall, sprawled over the countertop as the rush of being taken by him ebbed, marked by a slowing heartbeat and steadier breathing.

  Unsheathing his still-hard cock, he tossed the condom into the trashcan beneath the sink. “Again,” he said when he turned back around, holding up his jeans with one hand but not re-buttoning them.

  “Again?” He was still hard – that was clear, and though her thighs and arms were quivering, the word sent a thrill through her.

  “Once isn’t enough. Not after seven years. Let’s go upstairs.”

  * * * * *

  “Too bad it’s too cold to swim,” Donovan said, standing at the top of the drop-off with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

  A gust of fall wind rushed over the quarry, sending ripples over the dark surface of the lake that had formed in its depths and making Clementine’s nipples harden, just like they would’ve in the water. “My mom used to hate that I came swimming out here with you.”

  She bit her tongue as soon as she’d spoken. Bringing up her family – what a dumbass thing to do. Her gaze strayed to Donovan’s bandaged hand, and when she looked up, a jolt of surprise hit her – he was smiling.

  “Yeah, I remember you’d lie about where you’d been, but it couldn’t have been very convincing – your hair would be damp for hours afterward. Remember what we used to do down there?” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot and it plummeted to the water below. They were so high up that she could barely make out the ripples it sent racing across the surface.

  “How could I forget?” Her nipples went a little harder at the memory of being suspended in brisk water, liquid lapping against her shoulders as Donovan thrust into her, the bottom half of her bikini pulled aside or removed altogether. The quarry water was too cold for some, and others considered it too dangerous a swimming spot, but she’d – they’d – loved it.

  “We should get back into the habit. Maybe next summer, or late in the spring, if you’re brave enough.”

  She play-hit his arm. “I’m not afraid of a little cold water.” Not if she’d be entwined with him beneath its surface.

  “It’s a date then. For now…” He turned, facing the little trail that started behind them, disappearing into the woods. It began as little more than a deer path – a fact that meant it was rarely used – but after the initial sprawl of underbrush, it cleared into a neater trail, sheltered by a canopy of old maples, oaks and ashes.

  She followed him into the woods. “The clearing will be a lot more private than the quarry anyway.” Having sex in the abandoned waters had always been a bit of a risk … which had been part of the thrill.

  “I like the way you think.”

  They didn’t talk much on their way up the mountain – there was no need. It had been a rainy summer, and the autumn leaves were lush with color as a result, blazing in bold shades of red, orange and gold, fluttering around them whenever a breeze blew or one of them bumped a branch. “I missed hiking,” she said, thinking of the rush of New York sidewalks and not missing her life there at all.

  “Yeah. Me too. Florida was hot as hell, and swampy outside the city. Beaches were nice, but no way was I going hiking with the alligators and cottonmouths.”

  “How long did you live in Miami?” she asked, a ripple of regret crossing the surface of her mind as she was reminded how little she knew of how he’d spent the past seven years. It made her ache to realize she’d missed so much – she felt so close to him now that he seemed like a part of her, and vice-versa … like it had been before. How could there be so much she didn’t know?

  “About three years. Headed south after I was discharged from the Marine Corps. Had a friend whose contract ran up around the same time, and he had an uncle in Miami who ran a body shop. We both went to work there. I did some non-body repairs on the side … saved up my spare cash for more than two years.”

  “Were you planning to come back the whole time?” If so, nearly three years was a long time to work, a long time to save, especially after completing a four year term of military enlistment. Her heart softened and ached at the thought of Donovan beneath a car, greasy and sweating in the Florida heat, Willow Heights on his mind.

  He shrugged, nearly sending the backpack sliding from his shoulder. “Don’t think I ever said it out loud, even to myself, until my mom’s funeral. But I could always feel the pull of you coming from the north, making sure I never felt at home anywhere else.”

  Leaves crunched under her sneakers – she didn’t own hiking boots anymore – as they proceeded, the only sound the rattling of tree branches and skittering of leaves.

  “Couldn’t have come here after I got out of the Marine Corps, though. I was in shitty shape – it was better to live surrounded by swampland and reptiles than to be alone with myself. Having a friend who was fucked up to the same degree helped.”

  “PTSD?” She watched as a yellow leaf fluttered down and plastered itself to Donovan’s cheek.

  He pulled it away. “Yeah. Shared an apartment with my friend. It wasn’t that bad during the day, usually, but I’d sleepwalk all the time when I first got out, and he couldn’t sleep worth a shit, so he’d make sure I never made it out the door. Except once.”

  “What happened?” Imagining him wandering city streets in his sleep was more terrifying than imagining him loose on the rural lands outside Willow Heights – not that that didn’t scare the hell out of her, too.

  “Got in a fight.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “The other guy started it. It was a shitty part of town.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ricardo – the friend I lived with – jumped in. Got me back to the apartment. Never happened again after that.”

  She took a deep breath as his story settled in. The seedy streets of Miami’s not-so-great areas seemed a million miles away. “I wish I’d been there.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I don’t mean for the fight – I mean in general.”

  He was silent for several long moments. “You’re here now.”

  They came up on the clearing, a round, treeless space that was as beautiful as it was unexpected. In the spring, wildflowers dotted tall grass. This time of year, fallen leaves weighed down the fading stalks, creating a colorful carpet. Donovan turned to face her, gripping one of her hands and squeezing. “Don’t ever leave, Clementine. I can’t do another seven years like that.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “So guess what?” Clementine settled into the booth at Ann’s. Donovan sat across from her; they’d spent a little time at the shop and opted for lunch at the diner again. She’d job-hunted online while he’d spoken with Mike and gotten caught up on a little paperwork, unable to repair vehicles because of his freshly-burnt hand.

  “What?”

  “I’ve got another interview.” Remembering how he’d felt about
her last one, she didn’t call it good news, though she couldn’t repress a smile. “It’s for a really good position – one I might actually have a chance at landing.”

  “In DC?”

  She nodded. “Tomorrow morning.”

  His face remained impassive. “Knew it wouldn’t be long. Pretty soon you’ll be getting calls left and right.”

  She wasn’t so sure, but she could hope. “I was thinking – since you can’t work right now anyway, why don’t you come with me tomorrow? It’d be nice to have some company on the drive, and we could do lunch in the city, maybe visit a museum or two afterward. Could be fun.”

  “I hate missing work. The flood has slowed down business a little, but I’m still gonna fall behind.” He frowned.

  “You don’t have a choice, though. So why not come with me?”

  “All right.”

  His frown faded, and it was obvious he liked the idea of going along better than the idea of her going alone – he probably would’ve argued harder and tried to work somehow if that hadn’t been the case. A hint of uneasiness struck her despite her excitement over the interview and a day in the city with Donovan. How was he going to react when she actually got a job … when she’d have to leave Willow Heights?

  * * * * *

  “How’d it go?” Donovan stood on the sidewalk with a cup of coffee in hand, steam rising from the lid as he leaned against the building’s wall. In jeans and a simple black jacket unzipped to reveal the collar of his t-shirt, he looked sinfully sexy. How was it that any man could make such plain things seem remarkable? Even in her favorite pantsuit and with her hair arranged in a sleek up-do, she felt lackluster beside him … until he met her eyes.

  When he looked at her like that, she felt like the most desirable woman in the world.

  She would’ve taken his free hand, but that was his bandaged one. Instead, she stood close beside him, eager to get an up-close view of his perfect face, full lips framed by a shadow of stubble. He’d claimed that her careful bandage change had taken too long to leave time for him to shave that morning, but she wasn’t complaining – he was one of those guys whose features were enhanced by a little five o’clock shadow, sharpened and defined by the darkness.

  “Much better than my last interview,” she finally answered when she’d gotten an eyeful of him. “They seemed impressed by my internship, and they said I should expect to hear back from them soon. I knew bankrupting myself in New York had to be worth something.”

  Donovan’s expression softened a little as she laughed, half-hopeful and half-nervous.

  “I’m sure they were impressed by you.” He mumbled something else as he took a sip from his coffee cup, and it sounded a lot like “who wouldn’t be?”

  “I see you found coffee,” she said, eager to change the subject when she saw the half-wistful look in his eyes. “Is it any good?”

  “Yeah. You want a cup?” He motioned down the sidewalk. “There’s a place right down there.”

  She shook her head. “Let’s choose a place for lunch – unless you think it’s too early?” Nerves over the interview had left her ravenous, though it was barely past eleven.

  “I could eat.” He walked close beside her as they started down the sidewalk, and she linked her arm through his, eager for contact. “Any place specific in mind?”

  “I thought we could have a look around.” The city was a lot more enjoyable with him by her side, and although strolling the sidewalk was nothing like the hike they’d gone on over the weekend, it had its own appeal. Too bad he was tied down to Willow Heights by his business and house. Otherwise, she would’ve dragged him along on a hunt for a home, urged him to help her find a place where she – they – could live together when she landed a job.

  If it hadn’t been for the roots he’d put down in Willow Heights, she was sure he would’ve agreed. But those roots were there, and they were deep … business ownership was no joke, nor was home ownership. And that made her heart sink, because the facts were that she had to find a job, and she had to have him in her life. There were ways to make it work, and she’d find one, but she longed for a way that involved drifting off in his arms every night, her head against his shoulder instead of a pillow.

  * * * * *

  “It’ll only be for one night,” Clementine said, forcing a smile.

  Donovan frowned – no surprise there. “Looking for a place to live seems a little premature when you don’t even have a job yet.”

  She nodded. She hadn’t heard back from the company she’d interviewed with earlier that week yet, and although she did have one other interview lined up, it was nearly two weeks away. “Jackie has been keeping an eye out for me without my asking, and she seems really excited to show me what she’s found.”

  Jackie didn’t have any family in DC, and from what Clementine had been able to ascertain, opportunities to make new friends had been few and far between for her with the baby. “I think it’s more about the fact that she wants me to be in town on Friday for her birthday. I figured if she wants to show me a few places the next day, it’s no big deal.”

  Donovan’s eyes seemed to turn a darker shade of grey, though maybe it was just that a cloud had drifted in front of the sun, weakening the light filtering in through the kitchen window.

  “Let’s do something Saturday afternoon when I get back. Maybe another hike.”

  He nodded, but his expression didn’t lighten.

  She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I’ll be leaving you alone tomorrow night, but—”

  “It’s not about being left alone.” He shifted his gaze directly to hers. “It’s about you looking for a place in DC. Why are you so obsessed with moving there? There are lots of other places – closer places. You don’t even have a job there and you’re already chomping at the bit to go apartment hunting.”

  She let several moments slip by in silence. “I’ve applied for a few jobs in other places – in Pennsylvania. But I’ve applied for over two dozen in DC. The fact is, there are more jobs there. That’s just the way it is, and it’s probably where I’ll end up being hired on.”

  She’d debated whether to even mention that she’d applied for some relatively nearby jobs, knowing it would get his hopes up. But she just hadn’t been able to stand his expression of betrayal. Wherever she ended up working, he had to know that she wasn’t trying to leave him behind again.

  “You applied for some jobs here in PA?”

  Her heart sank. “Yes. One in Harrisburg, another in Reading and even one in York.”

  “Those places aren’t far.”

  “No… But nothing may come of those applications I sent in. I’ve applied to dozens of jobs so far and have only heard back from a few.”

  “Something could come of it. How many Columbia graduates do you think are applying for jobs in York, Pennsylvania?”

  She sighed. “Sometimes I think you must want me to stay here and sponge off of you forever. How am I ever going to pay you back for all the French silk pie if I don’t find a job … wherever that happens to be?”

  “You’re not. I don’t care if you end up becoming the next President of the United States – I’m not taking your pie money.”

  “You work too hard to be financing my pie habit while I give you nothing in return.” She rose from her chair at the table and approached his, settling into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Not to mention the dent I’ve put in your Dr. Pepper stash.”

  “You’ve given me plenty in return,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, his breath rushing hot against her neck. When his lips made contact with her skin, she forgot all about DC, all about her job hunt – when she was in his arms, he was the only real thing, the center of her universe.

  Truth was, the thought of apartment hunting in DC broke her heart, too.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t know Jackie, that looks a little out of my price range,” Clementine said, eyeing the computer printout Jackie had
slapped down on the table.

  And by a little, she meant a lot. The apartment Jackie was beaming over looked more like something for an executive than a recent college grad. Marble countertops, sleek lighting and a spectacular view of the city – she couldn’t have paid the security deposit on the place if her life had depended on it.

  “Oh, come on – you know you’re going to land a killer job. You’re a genius. You made sure to put on your résumé that you graduated with a 3.8 GPA, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing a little as the diners at a nearby table glanced in her direction. She, Jackie and Steve were dining at a popular new Spanish restaurant – they’d gotten a sitter for Isabel for the occasion – and the wine had been flowing heavily, replenished as often as the delicious tapas the waitress kept bringing. “I think you’re overestimating my desirability, Jackie. Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. Did you find anything a little more modest?”

  A part of Clementine hoped that Jackie would say no, that she’d done nothing but compile a list of impossible-to-afford luxury accommodations. Then Clementine could politely pass on viewing them, head back to Willow Heights in the morning and surprise Donovan. Not that she wasn’t having a great time celebrating her friend’s birthday, but Donovan had seemed so subdued since she’d announced her and Jackie’s rental-hunting plans that she couldn’t help but stress. She ached to hold him, to reassure him that the end of her stay in his house wouldn’t mean the end of her relationship with him.

  Jackie took a sip from her wine glass and nodded. “A few. They’re not dumps, though. I think you’re really going to like them.”