by Callie Hart
Love, on the other hand? Hah. It’s taken love to finally break me. I never could have seen Silver coming. There was no warning. No shot across the bow. If there had been, I could have braced myself for what was right around the corner, but instead she took me out like a goddamn sidewinder missile, blowing a crater in my chest a mile wide. There’s no surviving her, I know that much. When the first line of ‘Landslide’ came out of her mouth and the sweet sound of her lilting voice hit my ears, it was like a bomb going off in my soul and any lingering thoughts I might have had about waiting to ask her this question went up in smoke. It took all of my willpower not to stop her from playing halfway through the song, so I could drop down on my knees and beg her to be mine right there and then.
“Yes, Argento. God damnit, do it. You’ve gotta say yes.” I know how crazy I sound. I also know that Harry’s is perhaps the least romantic place in Washington, and this should be happening somewhere far, far nicer, and there should be a ring, and a million other things should be different, and I should have been a better guy and asked Cameron for permission first…wait. God, what year is this? Do men still have to ask for permission to propose? Cameron’s gonna fucking kill me. Why…why hasn’t she said anything yet?
I search Silver’s face, looking for some clue that might tell me what she’s thinking. Her expression is so stunned, though, that I have no idea what she’s going to say. My heart is a tense fist, refusing to beat…
“Timing’s pretty spectacular, Moretti,” she whispers.
Behind us, the crowd’s starting to get restless. They’ve begun talking amongst themselves, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I need a goddamn moment. I need three. I need for Silver to give me an answer before my head fucking explodes. “Argento,” I growl. “Are you afraid of a life with me?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of what people will say?”
She shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.
“Are you afraid of loving me?”
She’s unyielding when she shakes her head again, firm and sure of herself. “No, Alex. I could never be afraid of that.”
I fight to keep my voice level when I ask my final question. “Then what are you afraid of?”
Her eyes, pale and cool, like the crisp sky over Lake Cushman, are so clear and brilliant as she looks up at me. My stupid heart gives one painful, urgent squeeze, my ribs pinching like I’m being crushed inside a vice…and finally she answers.
“I’m not afraid of anything, Alessandro Moretti. I’m happy. I’m happy…because I’m going to be your wife.”
I figured I’d be able to able to breathe again if she said yes. But she hasn’t actually said yes yet. I close my eyes, desperately trying to keep my shit together. “Silver. Tell me. Say the actual words. I need to hear them out loud, right fucking now.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
Holy…
Fuck…
All of the frantic, nervous energy pours out of me like water spilling through my fingers. She said yes. She actually said yes? I open my eyes, leaning my forehead against hers, and she reaches up, holding me by the wrists. A powerful, delirious electricity passes through us and the room falls away.
I forget that all my life, all I’ve known is war. In this moment, with time standing still and everything changing, everything evolving, everything Silver, all I know is peace.
“Uhhh…kids? I know I’m not exactly paying you or anything, but do you think we might be able to get another couple of songs?” Harry asks, hovering by the front of the stage. “People are starting to get antsy and we’ve run out of the Philly Cheesesteak. If we could distract folk for a few minutes while Cliff runs to the store for some supplies, I sure would be really grateful.”
Because she’s a better person than I am, Silver eventually drags her gaze away from my face to look at the poor bastard. I, on the other hand, continue to stare at her like she’s the answer to every single question I’ve ever fucking asked.
“Sure, Harry. Sorry, I—we—uh—we just got a little sidetracked,” she says. I reiterate, I like Harry, he’s a genuinely good guy, but right now I could open-hand slap him for interrupting us. All I want to do is pick Silver up and carry her out of here, away from all the noise and the prying eyes that are boring into my back. I don’t want to share her. I don’t want to share this moment.
“Just half an hour,” Silver tells me, as if she can read my mind and knows how badly I suddenly need us to get the fuck out of here. “Thirty minutes and we’ll make our excuses.”
“Too long,” I rumble, shaking my head.
“Too bad,” she whispers, smiling, her eyes alive with excitement. “Don’t worry. The second we’re done playing, I’ll drag you out of here and across the road myself.”
Grudgingly, I let her go and sit my ass back down on my stool. The people in the crowd fall quiet, their conversations petering out as they realize we’re about to start playing again. This time, I don’t wait for Silver to strum her guitar. I get in there first with the opening chords of a song that isn’t on our set list. I don’t even know if she knows the song, but I want her to hear it. I want her to hear me sing…because she isn’t the only one who’s been hiding her voice.
Just like Dermot Kennedy’s, my voice is rocky, deep and bottomless. A little raspy and rough around the edges. I belt out ‘Power Over Me’, the emotion present, right where it needs to be. I’m not a gun at fingerpicking like Silver, but this was a piece of music I mastered a long time ago. My fingers skip over the strings, the music flowing out of me like I’ve just opened up the veins at my wrists and the words are pouring out of me like my very own life force.
Silver sits still like I did when she played Landslide, her guitar resting mute on her lap. She avoided looking at me when she performed, but I do the exact opposite. I only look at her. Definitely not the best way to connect with an audience, but so fucking what. I don’t care about connecting with any of them. Silver is my event horizon. My point of no return. Everything else is just white noise.
She’s so beautiful, my fucking soul hurts.
I don’t pause after I’m done with the song. I go straight into the next number on the list we drafted out, needing to keep the momentum going, and Silver joins in. We play a run of old numbers that the crowd sings along with, but we remain quiet. For our finale, when play Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars, and by some unspoken agreement Silver and I sing together, knowing that it’s only right, our voices rising and falling in unison, weaving together perfectly, and the haunting song renders the people in the diner utterly silent.
The final discordant note of the song is still ringing out across the diner when I get up, take Silver by hand, abandoning all of our equipment, and I drag her out of the building, into the darkness, and the night, and the rain…
…and we run.
23
ALEX
Silver gasps as I shove her up against my bedroom wall. I’m careful not to lean my weight against her, conscious of her sensitive ribs, but she pulls me closer by the front of my t-shirt, giving me an open-mouthed smile. “I’m not that fragile anymore, Moretti. I’m healed up just fine. You can take the gloves off a little.”
We’re both grinning like maniacs, drunk and high and stupid on the fact that I just posed a crazy question and she said yes to it. We don’t know what this new accord between us means for our future, no one can know what fate has in store for them for certain, but we both know the pact we just made in the diner is monumental and will change our lives forever. The apartment’s filled with a buzzing energy that makes me want to howl at the moon or tear my clothes off and throw myself into the lake, or jump on my bike, open the throttle and go faster than the wind. I need so badly right now. I need so many things. I need to feel. I need the adrenalin fizzing in my bloodstream. I need more oxygen than I seem to be able to coax into my lungs. I need Silver most of all.
“Only thing I’m concer
ned about taking off are your clothes,” I tell her. “Get rid of them. Get rid of them all. I want you naked on that bed in three seconds, or I’m gonna end up tearing through that Billy Joel shirt with my fucking teeth.”
Silver’s perfect mouth is swollen and red from the rough kiss I landed on her the moment we were through the apartment door. With dazed, unfocused eyes, she scans my face, picking over my features in a way that makes me want to tear her pants down, put her over my knee and spank her bare ass until it’s red raw for such blatant insubordination. I growl, the rumble vibrating in the back of my throat, and Silver’s pupils dilate even further.
“Wolf,” she accuses, eyeing the tattoo of the wolf on the back of my hand. “You’re a fucking savage, aren’t you.”
Oh, she has no fucking idea. Not even the first clue. I consider racing outside and howling up at the night sky again, knowing just how good the bite of the cold air will feel on my skin. I choose to stay here, towering over my beautiful wide-eyed prize instead. “Silver, you’re gonna scream so hard for me, the whole neighborhood’s gonna hear about it.”
I rub her bottom lip with my thumb, slowly using it to open her mouth. I push it inside, up to the first knuckle, and a dangerously wicked glint flashes in her eye. She’s going to bite…
“Ah, ah, ah.” I tut under my breath, pretending to disapprove. “Only wolves get to bite. And you…you’re not a wolf.” She hisses, surprised, when I quickly dip down and sink my teeth into her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her squirm.
“I…could be a…wolf,” she pants.
I shake my head, hiding in the crook of her neck so she can’t see my teasing smile. “You’re a kitten, mi amore. A soft, cuddly, gentle kitten.” This is so far from the truth—she’s as fierce as a wolf, any day of the week—but it’s fun to tease her.
“Oooh, you are asking for trouble!” She pushes me away, planting her palms against my chest and firmly shoving. It’s barely enough force to shift me at all, but I willingly give her a foot. Just one. She’s still trapped in the circle of my arms as I rest my hands against the wall above her head, using it to brace myself. I find a lust-filled defiance dancing in her blue eyes. “You’re lucky I’m feeling forgiving, or I might have shown you just how sharp this kitten’s claws are,” she informs me.
Holy fuck, I want her to show me. A little demonstration would be much appreciated. There’ll be time for that later, though. First, I want to make her melt. I want to kiss and lick and knead and palm her until she’s pliant and obedient. And then I want to fucking eat her alive. “Reckless,” I accuse, grabbing one of her tits through her shirt and squeezing possessively. “Better think through your words before you start making suggestions like that. I might get carried away.”
The tip of her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, and my cock throbs painfully in my pants. She has no idea what she does to me when she performs these seductive little actions. That’s why they’re so fucking arousing. Lots of women lick their lips, pout, and flutter their eyelashes flirtatiously, running their fingers suggestively across their cleavages, but that kind of sexual assault is gross to me. Way too contrived and obvious. When Silver wets her mouth with the tip of her tongue, she does it because her heart’s beating out of her chest, and she’s nervous, and thinking about me kissing her. And that makes my dick harder than concrete.
She’s stronger than any girl or woman I’ve ever met. She’s stood in the face of pain and humiliation, when others would have been brought to their knees. She has the heart of a lion. She’s stared down death and refused to quail at the sight of it…and yet with me, she can be vulnerable.
We undress each other, ripping clothes over each other’s heads as she stumble down the hallway to the bedroom, tripping as we kick out of our shoes. My hands ache, longing to touch her, as she shimmies the thin lacey fabric of her panties down her thighs and lets them drop to the floor.
Breathless, I go to her, placing my hands on her hips. She gazes up at me, and a surge of desperation punches through me, making my head spin. If someone had told me a year ago that I was going to meet a girl and fall for her so hard that I asked her to marry me within a space of a few months, I’d have laughed in their faces. I’d never have believed it. I’d have immediately regretted my impending rashness ahead of time and done whatever I could to prevent it. I’m not that guy anymore, though. Regret is the furthest thing from my mind. I want everything now. Our future together. Our lives, unspooled before us, filled with twists and turns and unexpected surprises. I can’t wait to see what happens next.
Her hair is so wavy and beautiful in the pale moonlight that floods in through the window. Like porcelain, her bare skin is so smooth and flawless. I feast on the sight of her tits, the heavy curve of them begging me to cup their weight in my hands, and it takes every ounce of patience I possess not to fuck her where she stands.
Even with its scars, because of its scars, her body is perfection. It’s been abused, beaten, violated and broken in places, but it’s beautiful in every way. Her back holds her upright and strong, unafraid. Her hands, held loose by her side, are capable of creating the most haunting music. Her eyes, the color of winter morning skies over the Walker Forest, are defiant, and proud, and brimming over with intelligence.
She said yes…
She said yes…
She said yes…
She said yes…
“On the bed, Argento.” As though she’s some kind of dream, a figment of my imagination, it feels like if I don’t do something to claim her right now and physically anchor her to this reality, she’ll evaporate into smoke and I’ll lose her forever.
Silver sets herself down on top of the duvet, her hair spilling around her head, her coral-pink nipples peaked and begging for attention. She reaches out a hand to me, and common-sense demands that I run to her instead of walk.
The bed dips as I climb up onto the mattress, positioning myself next to Silver. I give myself a second to survey her from the crown of her head to her toes, ravenously devouring every detail of her. Her ribcage rises and falls unevenly, her breath coming in staccato burst. “God, Alex. The way you stare at me makes me feel like I’m burning up.”
My mouth hitches up in one corner, a pleased rumble building in my chest. I take my index finger, running the tip of it over the flat of Silver’s stomach, satisfaction warming me when she shivers at my touch. I trail my solitary finger down, circling her belly button with it, grinding my teeth together as I venture even lower.
“You want me to put out the fire?” I ask her. “Or should I stoke the flames?” I trail my index finger to the left, over the crease where her leg meets her hip, and she bucks in answer, her ass jerking upward off the bed.
“I’ll literally scream if you stop,” she whispers, frustration coloring her words. Her need for me is addicting. Her eyes follow my hand, watching it as it skates across her skin, her cheeks a flushed shade of red that seems to glow hotly even in the dim light. I trace my finger lower still, tracing it lightly over the very apex of her thighs now, right where the petite slit of her pussy begins. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit if Silver waxed her pubic hair or let it grow naturally, but I’m glad her skin is bare for tonight at least. I want to see every inch of her. I want to spread her apart and see how the champagne pink of her flesh deepens to darker shade of rose. I want to witness just how turned on she is by slickness of her cunt.
I hold the pad of my thumb against the lips of her pussy, knowing that if press down a little, guiding my finger a tiny bit lower, she’ll yield to me, giving me access, and I’ll have her gasping in seconds; I can already feel the small, hard pebble of her clit beneath her skin, swollen, just waiting to be rolled and rubbed until she breaks apart for me.
“You want my tongue, dolcezza? You want me to fuck you with my fingers while I lick you?”
Her eyes shutter closed. She lets her head fall back onto the bed, her fingers twitching reflexively, like she needs something to
hold onto. “God…yes. Please, Alex. Please.”
I lean over her, arching my body over hers, anticipation making my blood surge faster through my veins. She’s fucking spectacular. I’m going to take my time over this. I’m going to make her tremble and shake until she can’t take it anymore…
My tongue makes contact with her skin, just below her belly button, and the clean, lightly floral fragrance of her floods my senses. I try to bite back the harsh snarl that climbs up the back of my throat, hoping to soften the sound, to make sure I don’t come across like a wild animal that’s about to tear her apart. I fail epically, though. “Open,” I demand. “Feet up. Bend your legs. Let your knees fall open. I want unrestricted access.”
“Alex—”
“Do it right now or I’ll arrange you how I want you myself.”
She stutters out a shallow moan, but she slowly moves, placing her feet flat against the bed, letting her knees fall out so her pussy is exposed to me, not a part of her hidden from me. Her flesh is just as wet as I’d hoped. Pink, and plump and beautiful. From the hood of her clit to the opening of her pussy, she’s slick, her flesh ready and begging to be licked clean.
“I want your come on my tongue,” I growl, nipping the inside of her thigh with my front teeth. “I want you to come so fucking hard I feel you pulsing around my fingers, Silver. Are you gonna give me what I want?”
Her hips buck away from the bed again, her movements urgent and desperate. “Ye-yes. Fuck. Oh my god, Alex.”
“You need it, don’t you? You’re desperate for me to make you come.”