by Shayne Ford
“I’ve never been with a woman, but you made me curious,” she says, and I look at her, surprised. “It must be fun,” she says. “That’s what your body tells me, Mr. Hotshot,” she adds and gently bites my lips.
Just as I want to lock her lips, she pulls away, smiling hot. Tossing her hair back, she dips her gaze for a moment and then she rocks her hips again, giving me a dirty stare.
I fucking love it.
Her hard nipples point at me, her lids slowly sliding over her eyes as her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths.
She leans on me again and whispers.
“I’d fucking love it.”
I seize her mouth, and pull her down on me, entering her all the way. Moaning, she starts to writhe. My hand slides down her back and splays over her ass as I push myself up with her in my arms.
I step out of the hot tub, pull a big towel from the side, soak the water off us, and carry her to the bed. We crash onto it. She wraps around me, soft and warm.
Famished, we lock our lips, our bodies glued together. Entangled, we move in perfect synch, the pleasure soaring through us fast.
I’m deep inside her, and in so many ways. Her heart beats next to mine, her body submitting to me as she burns me with her blaze and cries my name out.
A sliver of morning brushes the window, barely cutting through the thick fog. The wind picked up overnight and throws snow at the frosted windows.
Tightening my arm around her, I bury my face in her hair and spoon her.
She’s so good for me.
She’s perfect.
And I know how lucky I am.
Life rarely throws a perfect anything at anyone. Every single day people have to settle for less than they desire.
This is not something you can work for, or buy. You can certainly wait, and I did, but it’s mostly a roll of dice. Some people wait all their lives and come out empty-handed.
As it turns out, it’s nothing but pure luck.
As I listen to her soft breathing, thoughts start popping in my head. I have no idea what to do once we go back to New York.
Is she tough enough to face that world? I don’t think so. Should I keep her away? It’s not going to work. She’s barely learning to trust me, and her trust is barely a toddler. Fragile and gullible.
If I push her away, she’s not going to believe me it’s for our own good. In fact, things might get worse.
Should I introduce her to that world?
Hmm.
The world, in general, is filled with greed, deceit, and power struggle. My world is all of that times ten. People are well-versed, driven, and jealous. She could easily be crushed.
Shifting her position, she rubs her cheek against my arm. She brings my hand to her lips and places a kiss in my palm.
“Are you awake?” she murmurs.
“I am, now.”
“All of you, it seems,” she says, rubbing her tush against me.
I grin.
“All of you, too.”
She slides to her back and looks at me.
“This is the perfect place... For runaways like us...” she says, and something twists in my chest.
Her gaze lingers on me as she examines my expression.
“What bothers you?”
“The truth of your words...” I say, and stay quiet.
She observes me for a few more moments before she speaks again.
“Why were you pissed last night?”
“Family matters. Ron, Jay, the usual shit...”
“Care to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to talk about,” I say abruptly, regretting my words almost instantly.
“Okay,” she says, the inflection in her voice telling me how badly I fucked up.
I tuck her hair away from her face and look into her eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk with you about it...” I say. “Unfortunately, you were right. My world is different, and I’d rather not pull you in it.”
A slight flutter unsettles her eyelids, followed by a couple of rushed blinks, and then her gaze loses its luster as if her soul has pulled out of her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t mean anything,” I say, sounding harsh, and the last bit of light in her gaze dies out like a flame killed by a gust of wind.
I try to stroke her hand. She yanks it away from me as if she’s bitten by a snake.
“Layla?!”
A curtain of tears glides over her eyes.
“What do you mean??” she bursts out.
“Listen... It’s not that I don’t want you close to me, or I don’t want to go public. That’s not my problem. The only reason I’m saying this is because I don’t want to lose you over some stupid shit. All I want is to protect you... and us.”
She looks at me, stricken with pain. No matter how much sense my words make, the emotions are stronger than her logic.
“The thing is, I haven’t had a real relationship since I’ve started this music business. I tried once, and it ended badly. I knew I couldn't have a normal life doing what I’m doing. That’s why I didn’t want relationships, and I was okay with it for a while, but that’s no longer the case. Do you understand?”
She nods softly, on the verge of crying.
“There’s no place for me in your life, is it?”
It breaks my heart to hear her say that. She shifts her gaze away.
“Layla? Look at me!”
I clasp her chin and turn her face back to me.
“Listen to me. I don’t know how, but I’ll make this work. I’m not letting you go... But you have to trust me. There’s nothing I can do if you don’t trust me. All right?”
Tenderly, I touch her face and tuck a lock behind her ear. She no longer pulls away.
“That’s fucking better,” I murmur as her lips come to mine.
I open my arms, and she melts into me.
A knock on the door shatters the silence.
“Breakfast is ready. “
“We have to go. I told them to wake us up,” I say.
On second thought...
She peers at me as a sly smirk stretches across my lips.
“What?” she chirps.
I suck in a long breath.
“You know what’s worse than an argument in the morning?” I ask.
She studies me for a moment, mischief flashing in her gaze.
“Oh... Yeah... I have a good, solid idea,” she says as I press my erection against her thigh.
She slides under the cover, and wraps her hand around my girth, her lips rolling down on me.
Tension seizes my groin as she gives me a long lap that tightens my balls and makes my shaft drip with pre-cum.
I barely suppress a gasp.
I pull the cover off her and watch her working me with passion before her finger goes up.
She pulls me out of her mouth for a second.
“I’ll make it quick.”
I sink into my pillow.
“Who says I’m in a hurry?”
Her eyes light up, and I feel like a fucking wizard. Magic wand and all.
By the time we finish breakfast and get back on the road, the clouds rush away and give way to a bright sunny day.
Few hours into the ride, we cross the state border, a panoramic view rolling in front of us. Rugged mountains and smooth plains, a big river, and then a small creek.
“Where are we?”
“The Swan Valley.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
She gasps at the view, and I give it a second look. I almost forgot how beautiful it is.
The afternoon light drips gold over the snowy hills. Barns sit on the sides of the creek.
“And what’s the name of this creek?”
“Rainey Creek.”
“And the big river, we’ve passed by?
“That’s the Snake River.”
She looks at me, her hand going to her mouth, her face washed with revelation.
“That’s where your name comes from... Oh, my God! We’re going home. Your home...”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” I say, taking a turn and rolling smoothly in front of the house.
The door pulls open, and my mom walks out, her eyes wide with disbelief as well. She didn’t know that I was coming as well. I wanted to be a surprise for everybody, so no one had time to fret.
She can hardly hold her tears back.
“River?!”
I hug her, and as I lean closer, I feel her skin rougher than I remember.
“You said you couldn’t come. I didn’t expect you.”
She hugs me again, her happiness tinged with sadness.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she says.
“In a good way... I hope.”
I grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, yeah in a good way.”
“And who is this beautiful girl?”
“This is Layla. My mom, Arleen.”
They shake hands. Layla’s nervous. Curiosity flows through my mom’s eyes. I’ve never brought a woman home. Ever. And that’s a bigger surprise than showing up announced.
We walk toward the house.
Every time I come back, it seems smaller than the last time. Becky and Nathan, the caretakers of our property, along with a few other men who work for us, greet us. Amber and Daniel, the couple’s small children, run toward us, eager to meet us as well.
For the next few hours, I show Layla around. We play with the kids, the dogs, and before dinner, we go horse riding. The sun begins to set, a frozen stillness surrounding us.
Memories come back to me.
As I look at the frosted ground and leafless trees, the small creek buried beneath a thick layer of ice, and the footpath covered with snow, I have a hard time to imagine how it looked in the spring, summer or fall, when us–– the kids, used to run around, playing and laughing and having a good time.
The world was such a good place then, filtered through our young eyes and minds.
I cut my gaze at a group of trees where we used to light up a fire and sit under the open sky. It’s the same place where, one summer night, I kissed a girl for the first time.
At the time, it was the most thrilling experience I’ve ever had. I miss that innocence, and fresh taste of life.
“This is where I grew up,” I say, my voice filled with melancholy.
I remember those days as if it was yesterday. We were all a bunch of kids full of life. There were no lies or games between us, nothing to stop us from believing that the world belonged to us. We were so fragile and vulnerable, and yet, we thought we were invincible.
I wonder where those people are these days? It’s hard not to notice how quickly life has swept everything away.
I shift my eyes to Layla. The cold bites her cheeks, painting them pink. It brings tears to her eyes, and yet her smile shines brightly, so much life flowing through her gaze.
Later on, we go back home and get seated around the table, enjoying the Christmas dinner. From time to time, I catch my mom’s eyes shifting to Layla, and then back to me.
Close to midnight, we walk into our room.
Layla asks about my father, and I tell her part of the story. How he abandoned my mom and I when I was five. I stay away from the gory details, and I don’t even mention Love.
I can’t share that part of my life with her. At least, not yet. I also leave out the fact that my father came back to us a couple of years before his death, trying to extort money from us.
I ask her about her family, and she gives me a clipped answer, something about her parents being killed in a car accident.
She’s not very good at lying, and as tragic as the story is, I have a suspicion there’s more to it and this is not the truth.
I spend the next day with my mom, running errands, solving some legal issues. Layla stays home and bakes cookies with Becky, the whole thing looking surreal to me. It feels like a completely different life.
Two days later we’re on a private plane, back to New York. My lawyers and my financial guys travel with us, and I spend most of the time in a meeting.
I check on her from time to time, easily noticing that the closer we get to our destination, the more nervous she becomes. Steve waits for me at the airport. A different car is set to pick her up.
We split in a hurry, and pain jabs at my heart as I see the clouds hovering over her eyes. I knew this would happen once we were back. I fucking knew it.
One hour later, I’m back at the hotel. Ron and I have a business lunch with the people I traveled with. As the meeting comes to an end, Ron’s pulls me to the side.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I stare at him, pondering for a moment. The truth will not serve me well. Half of truth? Yeah, maybe.
“I took care of some family issues.”
“Why couldn’t you say so?”
“I just told you.”
I saunter to the door, sullen, in no mood to be questioned. Anxious, he grabs my shoulder.
“Is everything okay?”
I stop and turn to him, utterly annoyed.
“Yes. Why?”
“You fell off the face of the earth. What the hell happened?”
“Nothing. I just told you I took care of some family business. ”
“Why was so hard to tell me when we talked on the phone?”
I shrug. As much as I sympathize with him, and understand his concerns, I can’t tell him that I purposely disconnected myself from my usual life–– himself included.
It will drive the man crazy.
On the other hand, I can’t put a fucking bow on it and make it look like something that it’s not.
He grabs my arm, my body tense out of reflex.
“I need to talk to you about Jay,” he says.
“What about him?”
“He says he can’t come back unless you’re okay with it.”
I sink my hands into my pockets and shrug.
“You want him back? Then get him fucking back, but he needs to stay sober. And don’t you fucking bring him anywhere near me.”
“It’s not that simple,” he says and takes a long breath.
This can’t be good.
“He wants to hear from you first.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I bark.
Ron looks at me, critical.
“I think he wants to make sure you’re on board with this.”
My hands shoot up in the air.
“Okay, fine. Have him call me.”
He tips his head to the side, giving me a pointed look.
“Okay, I’ll call him,” I say, annoyed, and walk away.
I pace out of the room making an effort to push back the anger that spins out of control. I hit the gym and slam weights until I’m out of breath, and then I plunge into the pool and do laps as if I’m chased by a shark.
This is a VIP spot of the hotel, and it’s never crowded. Today I’m the only guest. With nothing else better to do, the attendant, a stiff guy with beaded eyes, watches me from his booth like a freaking hawk, most likely with his finger glued to the panic button.
Exhausted, I shuffle to my room. I pull the phone out and send Layla a text.
Me: I’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon. We’ll be back on Monday.
I should call her, but if I talk to her right now, she’ll sense something is wrong, and she’ll think it has to do with her, or us. It would complicate things unnecessarily. It’s better if I keep my mouth shut.
The phone screen flashes a message from Thalia.
Thalia: Expect delivery. Tomorrow at ten. Thank you for the Christmas bonus.
Me: You’re welcome.
Thalia: I can buy a small house.
I smile.
Me: Not in LA. Going home for Christmas?
Thalia: Yes. Alone.
> Me: Why?
Thalia: Short break. I hope.
Me: I’m sorry.
I turn the phone off. Isn’t this supposed to be the greatest time of the year?
After eight solid hours of sleep, I woke up in a better disposition. I am so looking forward to leaving the city.
Around ten, I get the delivery. Christmas wrapped boxes, my clothing. I shove the boxes into my bag, and sling it across my shoulder. I grab the hangers.
As I walk out, I cross paths with Steve.
“Everything’s ready,” he says, handing me the car keys.
I give him an open envelope.
“You’re officially off the clock. I’ll see you when I get back.”
I stroll down the hallway. He ambles back to his room when I hear his voice. Surprise and a smile spill into his voice mixed with disbelief.
“River?! Are you sure?”
Without turning, I hold my hand up.
“Merry Christmas! Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you.”
The car is ready for me, sitting in front of the hotel with the engine running. I hop in and pull away, rolling the window down. The air is cold, flurries swirling in the air.
It finally feels like Christmas.
The traffic is mild as most of those who travel this time of year have already left the city.
A half hour later, I pull in front of her building and leave the engine running.
Me: I’m downstairs.
5
She must have waited by the door.
A few minutes after I call her, she flies down the stairs, her eyes glittering with excitement. She’s truly incapable of controlling her emotions. I pull the window down, low enough so she can see me.
She hops in the car.
“Hey.”
She shuts the door, and before I can say a word, she snakes her arms around my neck, presses her cheek against my face and hugs me tight. Her skin is cold before it’s hot, her hair smelling like the wind.
She hugs me with passion.With her, it’s all or nothing.
“Hmm... It looks like you really missed me.”
“I did.”
Nodding and grinning, she curls up in her seat, sneaking glances at me from time to time.
We leave the city behind and drive up north. A few hours later we exit the main road and follow a narrow path that crawls along a dark lake.