The Complete Captive Heart Duet

by Carrie Aarons

  “I’m so sorry, Char.” He shakes his head and buries his fists in his curls.

  I can’t help but admire the springy tendrils, the way they dance over his fingers. I almost want to reach out and soothe him. God, my emotions are so conflicted when it comes to this man.

  “Are you just never going to say anything?” Tucker is speaking to the floor.

  My mouth drops open. “What do you mean?”

  He flips his head up. “I may be the asshole who is always apologizing or explaining his mistakes, but at least I’m talking. God, Char, I can never fucking figure you out. Your brain is like a maze, the expressions you wear are always unreadable.”

  I stare at him, puzzled.

  “Oh come on, like you think I can just dissect what you’re feeling? I’m not you, Char, I can’t read your mind like you can with me.”

  I didn’t realize I was that unreadable. That he never understood what my feelings were. Not that he would, now that I thought about it. I was used to keeping my emotions and thoughts inside. I’d trained myself to do it from a young age.

  “So then ask me. Ask me what you want to know.” Even though I was scared to death to open up to him, I’d rather have a broken ankle, this was it. We’d skirted around each other and held our tongues long enough. It was time to pour all of the shit out onto the table.

  Tucker looks at me out of the corner of his eye, the moment tense. “When did you first have a crush on me?”

  I roll my eyes. “This is what you want to know?”

  “Yes. Because while you’ve been able to pick my brain without me uttering a word, I’ve never been able to get inside that steel trap of yours. So I want to know. When did you first realize you liked me.”

  “You’re such a guy—” Tucker’s anxious glare makes me bite my tongue. “Fine. When I was about, I don’t know, seven or so years old.”

  Tucker nods. “Me too.”

  I swear I almost choke on my own lung. “You had a crush on me when we were kids?”

  “Why the hell do you think I hung around in your driveway so much?”

  We both nod to ourselves and I have a feeling we’re going to end up as bobbleheads by the end of this conversation.

  “When was the first time you wanted me to kiss you?”

  I blush, even though he had his tongue inside of me last night. “That Thanksgiving when you ended up on my back steps.”

  “You were so damn pretty sitting there with a book in your hands. Always with a book in your hands.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me at school? That week, you just walked past me like I didn’t exist.”

  Tucker looks guilty now. “There is no good reason, Char. There isn’t a good reason for a lot of it. I was cocky. I was an asshole. I thought more about what other people thought of me than what would make me happy.”

  He shrugs, breaking off.

  “Okay. Next question.”

  “What did you think when I kissed you under the obstacle course?”

  I smile at that memory. It’s always been one of my favorites. “I … I didn’t even think. That moment was so perfect, there was nothing going through my mind. Everything you needed to know, you already know from everything my body was saying.”

  Tucker smiles and I can see the little boost I just gave his ego. He shifts just a tiny bit closer to the bed.

  “And the first time we … made love?”

  I giggle at the way he puts it. “It was … Tucker, I … this sounds corny but I had been wishing for so long for that moment, with you. It was magical, and awkward, and it hurt, but it was amazing and life changing. I didn’t like it, but then I loved it. And no, as we’ve established, there was no orgasm. But that time, I didn’t even care.”

  He reaches for my hand. “I felt exactly the same. It was nerve-wracking and heart-pounding and felt so fucking good I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. I’ve never felt that way in my entire life.”

  Hearing him say that is new to me. “Really? I thought I was just one in a long line.”

  He squeezes my fingers. “Char, I never slept with anyone else while we were together. All of those months, I never even kissed another girl. You didn’t know that?”

  I feel my body tense. “Of course I didn’t know that. You never wanted to talk about what we were.”

  “I never said that. You also never brought it up. What seventeen-year-old boy wants to talk about feelings? What twenty-five-year-old man wants to talk about feelings? For you, though, I would. But it doesn’t mean I want to bring it up! Yes, I liked you. Jeez, I probably loved you. But I was a dumbass jock. I thought you got that. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never said anything. But it’s not like you were telling me how you felt either.”

  “I’m sorry I never said anything either. Did you … did you miss me when you left?”

  Tucker looks down and talks to his feet. “Of course I did. Leaving Conestoga without saying anything to you, fuck I felt like such an asshole. The only thing that kept me from reaching out was thinking that it was better for you. Our timing Char, it’s never been right. Every time I thought it might work to be with you, life or our egos or our parents got in the way. I thought it was better to let you go. To let you go than cause you the pain of an inevitable break up when it didn’t work out. When school or football or gossip ruined us. So I left.”

  His words choke me up. Not because they’re harsh, but because they’re true. Our timing was always off.

  “And now. What do you think of me now?”

  I take a minute to think. “I think you’re scared. I think the world never said no to you, and then one day took everything away. I don’t think it’s been kind to you, and I think you don’t know how to handle it.”

  “That’s what you’ve observed. But what do you think of me?” Tucker holds my hand in his and stares deep into my eyes. A muscle ticks in his strong jaw.

  “I think since being here, I’ve seen a completely different side of you. You have surprised me, showed me skills and parts of you that I never would have known about. I don’t want you to get caught. But I’m also not sure that I want to do this with you. You never gave me a choice Tucker, and talk about timing. You pulled me along without any regard for my feelings. I have no choice but to stay here until you decide your next step.”

  It’s harsh, but true. Tucker gazes out the tiny window of the cabin’s front door for a few minutes, his big warm hand still holding mine.

  “Then I’ll let you go. Stay until your ankle is healed, and the minute you can walk without my help, you’re free to go. I’ll hand you the car keys and vanish. I’ll never trouble your life with my chaos again.”

  Tucker’s expression is somber as he stands. “But for now, rest. I’ll come check on you a little later.”

  28

  CHARLOTTE

  Something inside of me broke when Tucker agreed to let me go.

  Like the water held back in a dam for so many years, the flood of emotion just smashed through all of my defenses, leaving me empty and confused. I’ve harbored so many unspoken feelings for the man for so many years. I’ve driven myself crazy with longing, shame, anger and loneliness.

  And now … I don’t know how to feel. He’s had such control over what’s been between us, even when he was years and miles away. Tucker gave me all of the power when he told me I could leave. He finally, finally took responsibility and initiative. He put words to something between us and allowed me to make a decision. I admired it, this maturity and unselfish attitude he was adopting. I more than admired it; it showed me an entirely new side of the man I fell for all of those years ago.

  Except this new and chivalrous side came on the heels of him telling me to go. Telling me he was letting go of me.

  And now … shit. I was so confused. I hadn’t wanted to leave from the beginning. I didn’t even really want to leave now. And I should want to, I get that, but I just didn’t. I wasn’t lying down, or being walked all over. I was finally living my lif
e.

  For the past eight years, hell for the past twenty-five years, I’d been gliding through life in a daze. I’d been doing what everyone expected of me, nothing more and nothing less. I’d been getting by. The only time I felt like I was truly living was when I was with Tucker.

  And so good or bad, wrong or right, weak or strong, I wanted to be with him.

  Climbing the rock wall was such a stupid thing to do, and I’d only done it because I was mad at myself. For letting him touch my body, give me such amazing feelings, without ever talking out our issues.

  We did that two days ago though. And after he’d walked out, discontinuing the session of spilling our feelings, he’d returned a couple of hours later with some soup and water. He checked my ankle, massaged it a bit, and then re-wrapped and put a new ice pack under it.

  That’s how it’s been for the past two days. Tucker playing nurse, us not talking about the decision looming over my head.

  Then, this morning when I woke up, my ankle was fine. I put pressure on it, stood up, moved around. No pain, no twinges.

  I was free to go.

  My eyes wander to the two empty bottles next to the bed. It could have been the liquid pain relief Tucker had supplied me with the past two days. Another mark on the maturity scale for him, refusing to partake with me. It was a temptation, a fall down the well of addiction and he wasn’t willing to set himself up for that.

  Suddenly, my mind was made up.

  I threw on my layers before heading out the door in search of Tucker. Walking briskly across the frozen landscape of Camp Marsh, I avoided the iced over parts of the gravel path. We were nearing the middle of November, and I knew all of this would be under a couple feet of snow soon. It would be something we’d have to deal with.

  Together.

  I find him in the mess hall, heating something on the big industrial stove in the back. Before I alert him to my presence, I take in his tall, lean frame. The way that, even in his sweatpants and long sleeve T-shirt, I can see the way his broad shoulders and chest nip in at the middle, and then flares out to two cheeks that makes themselves prominently known even through the bulky lounge pants.

  “Tucker.”

  He turns around slowly, and I’m afraid he already knew I was here. His sad smile confirms it.

  “I was going to bring you some SpaghettiOs. But I guess you can get them yourself now.” He turns back around, but not before I see the sorrow mark his chiseled face. “So, you’ll be wanting those keys now, huh? Are you going to tell them where I am?”

  Tucker continues to stir the goopy red sauce in the pot and I can feel the glum coming off of him in waves. Not anger, which is what I expected when I thought about coming to him. No rage at me possibly leaving, at me going to the police. Just resignation and sadness. This new Tucker was like an alien to me.

  “That would be pretty hard to do. You know … since I’m staying.”

  Tucker whips around so fast that he flings spaghetti sauce across my face from the speed of his spoon.

  “Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” He flies over to me, wiping away the tasty dots of sauce all over my face.

  All I can do is laugh. That is, until he wipes a dot off my cheek and sticks it in his mouth to lick off. Then I can do nothing but stare at his thumb in between his teeth.

  “You’re staying?” Tucker’s molten brown eyes stare me down.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to. Because the only place I want to be is here with you.”

  My answers seem to be enough for him. One minute we’re standing there, inhaling each other and the stillness of the moment. And the next, it’s lips and hands and clothing everywhere.

  I’m not sure who pounced first, but it doesn’t matter. Now Tucker’s lips and my lips are tangling, fighting for more and more even when there is no more to give. His hands are in my hair, pulling on the long locks hard and rough. But I love it, it’s spurring me on.

  I claw at Tucker’s neck and then move to the hem of his long sleeve T-shirt, wanting so desperately to feel his naked flesh press against mine. I yearn to feel his weight on me, the urge to feel him pressing me down into something causes a fire to erupt low in my core. If he pulls my hair one more time, I swear I’m going to tackle him to the ground.

  “You’re staying. You’re staying. You’re staying.” Tucker chants in my ear as he runs his tongue along it. I’m not sure if he’s reassuring himself; if he even knows he’s saying it.

  “I’m staying with you.” I pull his shirt over his head, each muscle revealing itself as he helps me drag the fabric from his body.

  His olive skin is warm as I run my hands over it, and I’m so distracted that I don’t even realize Tucker pulling the sweatpants over my hips.

  “I will never get enough of your legs. So toned and petite, all of this peachy skin just laid out in front of me to do whatever I want with.”

  He makes love to my hips and thighs with his tongue, sucking and kissing them so thoroughly that I can barely stand by the time he stands back up to explore my breasts. He slides his hands up my shirt as he comes to tower over me, his finger plying and teasing my bare breasts.

  “I’ve watched your tits for weeks. You weren’t wearing a bra, I think you might have done it to tease me.”

  His words make me blush, and all I want to do is shove my hands down his pants and see how much this is turning him on. So I do.

  It’s the first time I’ve touched a man in over a year, and as my fingers reach below his waistband, I’m suddenly nervous. Not just because I haven’t had sex in a long time, but because this is Tucker. It’s not just some rebound or a one-night stand. If the orgasm he gave me the other night was any indication, having sex with Tucker The Man will be a lot different than having sex with Tucker The Teenager. We’re not even naked and I know this will be earth-shattering. Mind-bending. I think I’ll be seeing stars and new galaxies by the time he pushes inside of me.

  “Your fingers are shaking. Relax.” Tucker grabs my face and focuses my eyes up on him. “I want you. You want me. There is nothing to be nervous about. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. But I will make you feel so fucking good, you’ll want to do it all over again when we’re done.”

  His words give me more confidence, and with my eyes locked on his, I move my hand down, feeling the scratchy stubble of his pubic hair against my palm. It’s rough and illicit, and makes my mouth water.

  Tucker growls low in his throat the minute my fingers brush the swollen, erect tip of his cock. God, that sound could bring me to my knees. I circle his girth with my fingers and moan as I pull up, stroking him gently at first. He’s big, bigger than I remember. I’ve long forgotten the fullness of him being inside of me, and my clit pulses with my rapid heartbeat as I explore his cock and balls.

  He groans when I move my hand lower, cupping his balls and weighing them in my hands, massaging the rougher skin. “Fuck, Char …”

  His responses alone could make me explode. It’s melting me from the inside out to stand in the middle of the mess hall and fondle him, explore this area that I’ve missed for so long.

  Tucker’s hand comes down on the arm I have half-buried in his pants. “Enough. Or I’m going to blow way before I get to make you come on my tongue again.”

  He lifts me like I’m a feather, forcing my legs to straddle his big body as he palms both of my ass cheeks.

  “You’re so small. I love that I can pick you up and throw you around.”

  Tucker does just that. Pushes me down on one of the long wooden mess house tables and pushes my thighs so far apart, I can feel the cold November air blowing over my throbbing core.

  “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” Tucker strokes himself through his pants as he kneels down, his mouth level with my exposed core.

  He licks me, once softly, and I feel the world stop spinning. Then he plunges his tongue into me, fucking me with his mouth. He alternates, plunging his tongue inside of me and th
en sucking and biting my clit with his impressive mouth.

  I come in less than a minute; all of the sensations and the nearness to Tucker are overwhelming.

  “That quickly? Well, then I’ll definitely be adding more to my makeup count.”

  “Your makeup count?” I can hardly breathe as I come down from the intense orgasm.

  Tucker stands and drops his sweatpants and boxers to his ankles, giving me the full view of his stunning, masculine body. I flush at the sight of him.

  “Yeah, my makeup count. I figure I owe you at least a hundred or more orgasms for all those times you went without. So if I can give you two or more each time we have sex from now on, I should be done making up to you in … oh, about a week.”

  I burst out laughing at his math, but am silenced when he starts to stalk towards me, dick in his fist. He is the most virile creature I’ve ever seen, and I’m shaking with anticipation.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  I wriggle my back up off the table and feel my nipples bud as the fabric comes off of my body.

  “Jesus fuck …”

  The way Tucker is looking at me right now, I think I might instantaneously combust.

  He’s at the end of the table now, pulling on my leg and waist and yanking me toward him. He positions me how he wants to take me, and I’m so wet I swear I’m sliding down the table on my own climax.

  I feel his blunt tip press against my entrance and I gulp, so ready to feel full again after all of this time.

  “Wait,” I hear myself say, “Condom?”

  It’s a stupid question, and I know it the second it pops out.

  “I don’t … I don’t have one.”

  Of course he doesn’t have one. And I haven’t been on the pill for more than a month. But I can feel him. God, I can feel him.

  I nod. “Just … pull out.”

  His eyes glaze over. “You have no idea how sexy those words sound coming out of your mouth. Watch me.”

  Tucker nods down to where he’s about to connect his body with mine, and we both watch as he penetrates me, moving inside of my slick folds.

  “Fuck.”

  “Oh my God.”