Back to You

by Claudia Burgoa

  “The letter,” he says, as if those two words should explain his sudden appearance.

  He releases my hand and cups my face, tilting it toward his, lowering his mouth slowly closer. I feel his breath against my lips. I shudder in anticipation as he finally presses his lips to mine. They are soft and yet firm. They part gently as his tongue slides into my mouth.

  Slow.

  Teasing.

  Tentative.

  Promising.

  My head spins; my body pulses. A need for this moment springs to life and the desire for more intensifies. Every kiss we share is unique. He kisses me slowly, warily, as if it’s the first time. It morphs gradually until it becomes deep and urgent with a longing that feels like it’s the last kiss we’ll ever share. He lets out a low moan that roars into my body making my every cell vibrate with need.

  Wes slides his hands down my back, pressing me closer to him. My hands clench onto his shirt, holding on as he kisses me eagerly. My heart melts as it fuses with his. The smoke from what burned between us three years ago clears, and the air seems lighter. We sink into each other, drowning into a bottomless pool of desire. And it’s almost frightening, but with him, it feels perfectly safe. Heavenly.

  My doubts about our future tempt me to stop, yet his hands, his presence, and his conviction in the belief that we belong together keeps me grounded. We’ve changed so much yet nothing’s changed between us at all. We belong to one another. He completes me. Every flick of his tongue makes my core clench. I don’t want this to stop, ever. I want more—need more than just his mouth.

  Wes pulls slightly back. I gasp, trying to recover and calm my thundering heart. He sets his forehead against mine. We’re both out of breath. Our gaze connects. His eyes burn with lust. I stare at his gorgeous lips waiting for more.

  Another kiss.

  An explanation.

  Him.

  He clears his throat, taking a deep inhale before he speaks, “Can I come in?”

  It dawns on me that we’ve been making out in the entryway.

  “Of course. I’m a terrible host. But wait,” I take a step back. “I thought you were in San Jose,” I say holding onto the door. My world still spins from his life-changing kiss.

  What happened to let’s take this one day at a time? Ten dates? It’s only been one. A mere week since we reconnected.

  He pulls out a folded paper and kisses it. “After reading this, I had to see you.”

  “It was meant for you to read while we were apart and …” I stop myself.

  Why did I send the letter?

  Definitely not to push him to take it further this fast. I wrote it believing he’d have two weeks to think about what I said. Afterwards, he could come home and tell me whether he wanted to continue on this amazing trip where we hopefully find each other at the end of the road.

  But instead, he’s here. One day has passed since I couldn’t sleep, wrote the letter, and sent it off without thinking about the consequences.

  “I’m glad you came,” I say, thankful.

  He’s exactly what I needed tonight.

  Chester nuzzles my leg, pushing me. I look at him. “What’s going on, boy?”

  He barks twice at Wes.

  “Where’s Oakley?”

  “She’s in the car,” he looks over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to get her too excited.”

  “You were afraid I wouldn’t let you come inside?”

  “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but I wanted to see you.” He takes me into his arms. “I needed to be with you.”

  “Slugger and I had dinner at the crepe place,” I explain, opening the door wider. “Have you eaten?”

  He doesn’t move, just stares at me as if he can’t believe I’m right in front of him. “Food. Did you have dinner?”

  “Sorry, you look beautiful tonight.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself. Why don’t you bring her in?” I insist, holding onto Chester who’s eager to see Oakley. “He might be missing her, just a little.”

  “I think your dog has a crush on her.”

  “A big one,” I agree, watching him get Oak down from the car. She immediately charges toward the door.

  I move aside and watch the two pups jump around each other while they bark. Who knew they’d bond this quickly?

  Twenty-Eight

  Wes

  “Why don’t you take the dogs out? In the meantime, I can make you a sandwich,” Abby offers.

  The backyard is dark, and Oakley stares at me doubtful. “Will they be okay outside?”

  “Yeah.” Abby taps her phone a few times. “There, I turned the lights on; it’s the only way you’ll be able to eat without Chester begging for food.”

  “You need to train that mutt,” I groan.

  “Leave my puppy alone.” She grins and walks away swaying her hips.

  I stare at her ass and my cock throbs against the zipper of my jeans, begging like a starving man who hasn’t been fed in years. I let the dogs out to calm myself before I do something I’d regret.

  Not that I regret our kiss. My intention wasn’t to kiss her as soon as I saw her. I just couldn’t contain myself. When she lovingly touched my face, her tender caress was the last drop falling into an already overflowing glass. My heart thundered inside my chest and my body responded too fast—trying to catch up with my mind which was flush with old memories of her, of us. I just couldn’t stop myself. I had to have her mouth. The one I’ve been missing for so long.

  When our lips touched, it felt like we’d been apart for only minutes and not three long years. I got lost in her, in the moment. It was finally just the two of us without the big wall Abby had put between us for years. It was her—the same and yet somehow, a totally different person. She let me lead but took what she wanted just the same. Fuck, my heart hammers against my chest just remembering the way she ground herself against me as I deepened the kiss.

  The urge and hunger for her expands inside me as if her lips were fundamental to my survival, our connection—my oxygen. I need Abby as much as I need my next breath, my next heartbeat.

  “What are you thinking about, Ahern?” Her voice is low and softens when she says my name.

  “You,” I breathe the word, unable to catch myself from the fall I took when I kissed her.

  “Me?” She arches an eyebrow, as she bites her cheek. “Or the letter.”

  “It was intense,” I tell her. “There’s so much in there that …” I rub the back of my neck thinking about every word she wrote.

  I have it nearly memorized after rereading several times.

  “Even after you opened your heart, I’m still not sure where I stand.”

  “You’re obviously standing right here. In my kitchen.” She pours a glass of apple juice and sets it on the island along with the sandwich.

  “Yes, but how do I proceed?”

  She narrows her gaze and crosses her arms.

  “I need to know where we stand, because fuck, if I don’t want to drag you upstairs and love you—worship you. Abby, I’m fucking hungry for you.”

  She makes a tiny sound in her throat. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted.

  I’ve never seen that hunger in her. My dick stiffens. I need to get out of this house before I do something stupid. Would it be stupid? There’s got to be some way to define our expectations.

  “Sorry, what’s the question? My brain suddenly froze and can’t remember what we’re talking about.”

  “The letter, why’d you send it?” I set the letter on the counter.

  “After our date, I couldn’t sleep.” She stares at the folded paper. “I had work out my thoughts and feelings about us. That’s why I began to write the letter. Afterward, I baked some cookies.” She stares at the counter. “The next morning, I packed them up and sent them off. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  She shrugs. “No, I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about the letter. It was may
be too raw. Those were thoughts that matter to me, yet I’m afraid you may have taken it out of context.”

  “Nothing is out of context. You put all your cards on the table and showed me your hand.”

  “It felt important at the time—essential that I let out everything I bottled up after our date.”

  “Our date?” I frown. “I thought you had fun.”

  “Lots,” she smiles. “I also feel as if we were trying our best to come off authentically, but we’re still holding back. Without that letter, I doubt you would have kissed me the way you did just now.”

  “Was I wrong to?”

  “What?” she asks confused.

  “Kiss you?”

  “No.” Her voice becomes breathy. She bites her cheek, while her eyes watch my lips intently.

  “I liked that you didn’t hold yourself back. That you were truthful about what you want and need. There’s no hesitation just …”

  Abby sighs. “Us.”

  I’m still unsure of what to make of this. All I know is that I need to taste those sweet lips again. I swallow hard and walk around the island to stand in front of her.

  “How authentic do you want me to be?” I caress her cheek, leaning in closer to her.

  Abby takes a deep breath; she stares at my mouth. Then, she looks at me. “Be you. Act the way you want. Don’t treat me like I’m fragile because I’m not.”

  “Me,” I breathe against her lips. “That’s what you want? I’ve got to warn you that you’re special to me. Precious. And I’ll worship you as such.” I press my lips together and exhale, “Forever.”

  Abby links her arms around my neck. “Wes,” she breathes.

  I wrap her body in my arms, pulling her against me to find her mouth. The world shifts like it does every time we kiss. Abby’s all that matters. She’s my entire universe. Every cell of my body burns with lust, need.

  Breaking our kiss, I scoop her up and carry her toward the stairs.

  “Which one is your room?”

  “The one at the end of the hallway.”

  “I’m going to undress you,” I tell her when we arrive at her room. “Slowly, I’ll peel off every item of clothing you’re wearing, and then I’m going to graze every inch of your body with my lips. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispers as I set her in the middle of her bed.

  Abby observes me as I undo her pants and pull the zipper down slowly. I tug them down, but when she trembles under my gaze, I stop.

  “Are you nervous?” I hold my breath because maybe I misunderstood and I’m pushing her too far.

  “A little,” she tugs her lip between her fingers. “This is new, different for me. Obviously, I’m not a virgin but … it’s you.”

  There’s no fear, just desire in those dark eyes. I trace the line of her lacey panties. Abby breathes and closes her eyes. She’s so fucking beautiful and perfect. I want to run my tongue all over her—taste how much she desires me, how much she missed me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Holding her gaze, I let one heartbeat of charged silence spread between us.

  I’m ready to tear off the t-shirt she wears and possess her. Making love to her will be an art. Being gentle while holding nothing back. She’s worth it though, and I can stay here all night.

  “You wouldn’t be in my bedroom if I didn’t, Wes. Of course, I want you. It might not happen tonight, but it’ll happen soon, and giving myself to you isn’t just a physical act. It’s a gesture of love. I trust you.”

  I undress and climb over her, lowering my body onto hers. I brush my lips against hers once, then I kiss her forehead. “You won’t regret it.”

  I catch her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue. This time I take it slow. My mind travels to the memories of what we had and what was lost. I close my eyes.

  My chest cracks open when I ask, “Will you ever forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me?”

  “You’ve always been there, Wes,” she says, her fingers raking my hair. “It wasn’t your fault, and there’s nothing to forgive. What happened to me was like a cancer eating away at my every thought, all my emotions. It left me hanging by a thread. I had to save myself and find the courage and will to continue. You’re not responsible for me.”

  I kiss her eyes. “But I want to take care of you.” I kiss her nose. “Protect you.” I pass my lips over hers, and she shivers. “Be there when you need me.”

  Her hands frame my face; our eyes meet. “I want you to need me too. To care for you. To protect you.”

  “I’m scared,” I confess.

  “Of what?”

  My throat tightens. I close my eyes before I speak, “That this is a dream and I’ll wake up soon, and you won’t be by my side.”

  “We’re both scared of a lot of things. The beauty of being together is that we can hold each other while we face our biggest fears.”

  I peel off her shirt, dipping my head and pressing my lips to her neck. Nibbling her sensitive skin and breathing her soft scent, I take my time kissing my way down her neck. She shudders under my body, a moan escapes from the back of her throat. My cock urges me to speed this up, but I ignore it. Abby’s a delicate fruit that needs careful attention. I want to enjoy her succulent juices.

  Kissing her sternum, I stop right at her bosom. My hand finds the clasp of her bra, I snap it open and watch her beautiful, plump breasts spill out of the fabric. I discard the beautiful lingerie and take one nipple into my mouth, sucking it hard while I play with the other one. I pinch it, and flick it, alternating sides. My head spins out of control as she pushes her hips against me and whimpers while I devour her tits.

  “Please,” she begs with a throaty voice.

  “What do you want?”

  “Make it better. The ache between my legs.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Running my tongue down her torso with slow precision, every swirl makes her tremble. I stroke her pussy over her panties, and her moans sound like music. A melody I’ve played for years but haven’t heard since that night in Tahoe. My fingers slide inside the silk material that covers her pussy. I run my thumb through her slit and circle her clit.

  Abby pushes her hips against my hand, and I stop.

  “Patience,” I tease her.

  She whimpers as I work her panties down her thighs, past her feet, and onto the floor. I kiss the tips of her toes, take them in my hands and spread her legs wide. I kiss the inside of her legs, inch by inch. Left, then right. I suck the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Moving up, up until I’m right at her core. I run my fingers through her beautiful pussy opening her folds.

  This time I don’t stop myself. I bend down, pressing my tongue against her nub. My hands go under her ass, raising her pussy and opening her wide. She’s perfect. I begin to stroke her with my tongue all the way down to her back entrance.

  “Oh,” she breathes, trying to close her legs but I don’t let her.

  Instead, I continue to pleasure her with my tongue. Sucking her juices, making her even wetter. My tongue swirls through her folds, flicking her clit, and wetting the delicate entrance in back. I move my hands from under her and replace them with a pillow. Carefully, I push a finger past her entrance and stop, watching her. Her eyes are two hazy pools staring at me while her hands grasp the sheets.

  “Should I continue.”

  “Please,” she begs.

  I slide in a second finger; my mouth doesn’t stop kissing her beautiful pussy. Then I move my tongue to her little hole, licking it, lubricating it. She wiggles and moans, and I take that as a sign to continue. Carefully, I press my thumb inside, moving it while crooking one finger, and pushing it against her g-spot. Her body trembles as I nibble her precious pearl.

  “Wes,” she screams as if pleading for mercy, or maybe for more. The sound is like music—a hymn—the only sound I want to hear for the rest of my life.

  She spasms around my finger as I continue to draw out her climax, drinking her orga
sm. Her muscles shake uncontrollably under my touch. When her breathing finally evens out, I move away from her.

  This is happening, I repeat in disbelief. It’s real.

  “I need you,” Abby grunts, her eyes meeting mine. They’re glazed over and seem far away, yet still needy. “More than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.”

  Reaching out for my wallet, I pull out a condom and open the package. I kneel between her legs and roll it onto my shaft. I hold onto my erection, caressing her entrance with it. She stiffens.

  “We can stop,” I hold my breath, worried about her reaction—afraid that she might break down.

  “It’s normal to feel angry, but don’t let it show,” said my therapist when we skyped. “Just like you wouldn’t pressure her into sex, also be careful not to withhold displays of intimacy. Don’t emotionally withdraw from her. Don’t assume that she doesn’t want to be touched at all. Be gentle if she desires you.

  “It’s important that she knows you are respecting her right to decline sex. When the time for sex comes, be tender and slow.”

  “Don’t make me beg,” she says in a serious tone. “Please, don’t ask me again. I know why you’re doing it, and I love you even more for being so patient and careful.”

  I stay right by her entrance, lowering my body. I lean down and croon in her ear. “I love you,” as I press myself inside her. Our gazes connect, I smile and whisper again, “I love you so much.”

  Abby laces her hands around my neck. I drop my forehead to hers as I thrust inch by inch. Her walls wrap around me. Our bond strengthens. Every muscle of my body tenses as I control the need to plunge into her. Instead, I enjoy the feeling of being inside the most beautiful woman in the world. Becoming hers. Claiming her.

  With one last thrust, I’m all the way home. I stop, resting my weight on my elbows. “I love you, beautiful Abby.”

  “Thank you,” she says, running a hand through my hair and caressing my face. “For always knowing what I need.”