by Moni Boyce
“Wake me, if you get up first.” His voice trailed off at the end, replaced by light snoring.
They were both exhausted. Her drowsy mind was trying to think of what they would do when they woke up. The last thought she had before she succumbed was about The Sweater Shop.
Jordan’s eyes fluttered open and for a minute she forgot where she was. She blinked again and looked around. The bed and breakfast.
Looking over her shoulder, she found Conor still knocked out, lying on his side.
A glance at the bedside clock revealed they’d slept longer than intended. Night had fallen. Slowly, she sat up so she wouldn’t disturb him. She trudged to the bathroom and shut the door. When she turned on the light and stared at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered about the ticking time bomb, her departure had become in her head. It was like walking through a minefield. Every thought about having this conversation had her running scared. A feeling she wasn’t used to. She never backed down from anything, but she found herself not wanting to disturb the peace they found themselves in.
In the quiet, her thoughts grew louder, telling her she couldn’t prolong the inevitable.
“Jordan?”
Conor was awake.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” She shouted through the closed door and cut on the faucet.
Several more minutes passed, while she stood in there thinking. She would have to emerge eventually, or he was going to think something was wrong.
When she opened up the door and stepped out Conor was sitting at the foot of the bed, still a bit drowsy. He gave her a lazy smile. “We may have missed dinner. Can’t remember how long they said they serve meals downstairs. We can go out if you want?”
Jordan sat in the armchair next to the bed. Her mind was still trying to figure out whether to ask him now or wait.
“Let’s see what this room has to entertain us.”
Jordan was barely listening to what he said. Ever since she woke up, she’d been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject of her leaving and him coming with her. She didn’t want them to fight like last time and have it ruin their trip.
The room didn’t have a television, so Conor was exploring every nook and cranny, opening and closing drawers, along with checking out the closet. He flipped on a radio that sat on a nearby end table. The DJ was just finishing a dedication. “This song is for you, Jodie.”
“That’s romantic. I didn’t know they still did radio dedications.” He turned the volume up and Sting’s “Fields of Gold” swelled from the speaker.
After an internal pep talk while she sat in the armchair, she’d finally worked up the nerve to broach the conversation. “I was thinking…”
Conor cut her off. “C’mere. Dance with me.”
When she looked up, he stood in the center of the room with his hand held out to her.
Slowly, she got up from the chair and walked over to him. He gave her an easy smile. Even though the practical part of her wanted to resist and insist they have this very important conversation, the other part of her, the part of her that only thought with her heart, had her reaching for him.
Conor took her in his arms, and they started slow dancing. She rested her head on his shoulder and swayed to the music. While he held her, the internal war to push the conversation they needed to have out of her head, became exacerbated seconds later while she listened to the words of the song. The lyrics spoke of commitment and love. She’d heard the song before and never quite paid attention, but now as she danced with Conor, the lyrics struck her. Eerily, the story the song wove, mirrored her situation. It was hard trying to swallow down her emotions. Tears stung her eyes, and it wasn’t long before she could no longer hold them back. A few stray tears streamed down her face.
“Are you crying?” Conor pulled back to look at her, concern marred his brow.
“No, no…” She swiped and rubbed at her eyes. “I just got something in my eye.” She gave him a false smile and laid her head back on his shoulder so he would continue the dance.
After her failed attempt, she decided she wouldn’t bring it up until they were back in Dublin. They didn’t have much longer now, but she would wait.
14
Conor
After returning from their holiday, things had been serene and mellow, even though Conor was unconsciously ticking off the days until Jordan’s departure. He kept trying not to think about it, but everyone kept reminding him that their time was coming to an end. They were now a little less than forty-eight hours away from her leaving Dublin… leaving him.
As bittersweet as the time was, he wouldn’t trade their time spent together with anything in the world. They would be memories he would treasure always. Days that consisted of making love, long walks, hanging with everyone at the pub, teaching her about architecture, finding cozy spots for meals, and learning more about each other.
When they left the pub earlier that night, they decided to head to a bakery they’d heard about. Jordan was craving sweets. He adored her appetite. She ate and enjoyed food with such gusto. The whole time she ate her apple tart, he’d only been able to think about licking cream or something else sweet off her body.
Sipping at his Irish coffee, he heard the rain start up. Thankfully, he’d dragged along the umbrella due to the weather reports he’d heard earlier in the day from the Three Wise Men. The few times he’d disregarded their takes on the weather he’d paid for it. He’d gotten in the habit of listening when any of them had something to say about what kind of day it was going to be.
Outside the rain still hadn’t let up. The torrential downpour was coming down in buckets and sheets. The American idiom, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs’ suddenly came to mind.
“Jaysus. It’s lashing rain.”
They’d left his car at the pub, and now stood under the awning of the bakery while he tried to raise the umbrella. Not only would it not open, there was a huge tear down one of the panels.
“Bollocks. It’s banjaxed.”
He looked up and down the street and realized they weren’t that far away from his house.
“My house isn’t too far from here. If we leg it, it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Jordan’s eyes got huge at hearing they would need to run in the rain. You would have thought he told her the fairies were coming to carry her off. It was almost comical.
“My hair.”
“It’ll be fine. C’mon.”
Conor knew he shouldn’t litter, but the large umbrella would be cumbersome to run with. He tossed it aside and took her hand.
“Ready?”
“No.” She shook her head.
He took off running down the street. They ran down the sidewalk like two children. Each step splashed rain up his leg. After running for about a minute, Jordan was laughing. It started with a small giggle and pretty soon it was bubbling out of her in the most infectious way. He stopped and turned to her. She didn’t stop laughing, even though the rain had her clothes soaked through.
“What’s so funny?” He yelled over the roar of the raindrops that pelted down around them.
“This.” She gestured all round them and turned in a circle. “The rain and us running in it.”
Her giddiness was catching. Standing there with her and the rain coming down all around them, he was beginning to understand why this setting could make you feel like a romantic. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. She gripped his shoulders and matched his kiss with a fiery intensity. It was a magical moment and he would always remember, kissing Jordan in the rain.
By the time they arrived at his house, they were sopping wet, their clothes and hair were plastered to their bodies.
The home healthcare aide poked her head into the hall. “Hello Mr. Byrne.”
“Hi. Is my da still awake?”
“Yes.”
Both he and Jordan toed off their soggy shoes.
“Why don’t you head home for the night? I’m here no
w. No need for you to stay.”
“Are you sure?” The woman looked at Jordan and gave her a shy smile.
“Where are my manners? Kerry, this is Jordan, my girlfriend. Jordan, Kerry, she’s one of Da’s nurses.” He introduced the two women.
Kerry reached her hand out and shook Jordan’s hand.
“Sorry. I’m all wet.” Jordan apologized for her damp hand.
“It’s okay. Nice to meet you.”
The home healthcare worker gave him an update on his father and then grabbed her coat and left.
Once they were alone, he took Jordan by the hand and walked her into the living room, heading to his father’s room. Halfway there she halted and wouldn’t budge.
“You want me to meet your father looking like this?” She hissed while she patted her hair and looked down at her soaking wet clothes. “I’m a mess. What kind of first impression would I be making?”
“A quare sexy one.” He drew her to him and kissed her.
When he pulled away and saw she still looked nervous, he offered her reassurance. “He’s going to like you. I promise.”
Conor walked to the doorway of his father’s room. Propped against his pillows, his father watched a program on the telly.
“Da, I have someone I would like you to meet.”
His father tried to sit up a little straighter. With his working hand, he beckoned them into the room.
Jordan stepped into the room behind him.
“Hello.” She gave his father a shy wave.
Conor was already pulling up two chairs to his father’s bedside. “Come sit.” He motioned to Jordan.
“Da, this is Jordan, my girlfriend.” He squeezed her shoulders as she sat.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get some towels and a change of clothes.” He kissed the top of her head and left the room.
Upstairs, he changed out of his wet clothes and draped a towel around his neck so he could begin drying his hair. In his closet he found a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for Jordan to wear. He grabbed another towel from the bathroom and padded back downstairs barefoot.
When he reentered his father’s bedroom, Jordan balanced a photo album on her lap. They both looked up at him wearing huge grins.
“You were a cute baby.” She gave him a wink while she teased him.
It must be the naked baby pictures or ones of him wearing a nappy.
He handed her the towel and the clothes while he used the end of the towel around his neck to scrub his hair dry. “You can use the jacks down the hall to change into these.”
She sat the photo album down and took the items. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.” The last sentence was said to his father.
Jordan had barely disappeared out the door and his father winked at him. “Pretty.” He gave Conor a thumbs up.
“I like her… your mam… your mam would have liked her too.”
When Jordan came back into the room, she looked adorable in his clothing that was way too big on her. The baggy sweats and oversized shirt practically swallowed her. Red painted toes peeked out from underneath the pants telling him she was barefoot.
She sat back down and picked up the photo album and placed it on the edge of the bed to make it easier for his father to see. After pulling her chair closer, she resumed their conversation.
Some would have been uncomfortable with his father’s condition, but she didn’t bat an eye when he drooled occasionally or had a coughing fit and needed water. Kindly she would lay her hand on his arm, ask if he was okay and hold the water glass for him.
For that, his heart would be forever indebted to her.
An hour of his father sharing stories and looking at old pictures tired him out. Jordan helped his father get comfortable and pulled the blanket up to cover him. She went to wait by the door while he kissed his father on the top of the head, like his father had done for him when he was a wean.
Conor closed his father’s bedroom door and took her hand and led her towards the steps, where they would head up to his bedroom on the second floor. The stairs were somewhat narrow, so they couldn’t go up side-by-side. When he let go of her hand, she grabbed the tail of his shirt and followed him up the staircase.
In his room, he shut the door. She stilled his hand when he reached for the light switch. Jordan was facing him now, pressed into his body like she was trying to become one with him. With her eyes closed, her lips lightly skimmed his.
The streetlight silhouetted the rain against the windowpane, casting a shadow of cascading water onto their bodies and the wall. The little bit of light that illuminated the room was just enough for him to see her, but in this moment, the only thing he wanted to do was feel her.
Conor shut his eyes and slowly ghosted his lips across hers, before moving to her jawline and down to the column of her throat, where he allowed his nose to roam in the crevice, breathing her in. Then he licked the hollow of her neck. The sound of pleasure she made was intoxicating.
The experience was heightened even further, because neither of them had touched the other one with their hands yet.
Slowly, he reversed his actions, retracing his steps back up her throat, across her jawline until he was back at those luscious lips. For a moment he hovered there, not even a breath between them. Even though they did not touch, he could feel, almost hear, her pulse beat, awaiting that first kiss.
Opening his eyes, he took her in. Eyes still closed, her lips were poised, ready to receive his gift. Wanting to prolong the anticipation of the kiss for a moment longer, he pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead. Each eyelid was dusted with the brush of his lips. He kissed the tip of her nose and caught the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. Her cheeks were each bestowed with a kiss.
Instead of touching his lips to hers right away, his tongue teased her, flicking against the plump bottom one, tracing along the curve of her top lip. Conor pressed a light kiss to the corner of her mouth and nipped at her lips before he finally pressed his mouth to hers and slipped his tongue inside her eager mouth.
They stood in the darkened room, with the rain pelting down, and the occasional noise from a car driving by as their soundtrack. Jordan had since wound her arms about his neck. His arms were wrapped tight around her holding her close. Their kissing was unhurried, but passionate, tender, yet playful.
In all the years since his first kiss, he’d never experienced what he’d experienced with Jordan. The connection he felt to her in this moment was indescribable, considering they hadn’t even had sex yet tonight.
It was unclear how much time had actually passed when Jordan pulled away and tugged his t-shirt over her head. Holding his gaze, she undid the knot in the drawstring of his sweats and let them fall down her legs. She wasn’t wearing any knickers. Now she was completely naked.
Conor dragged his shirt over his head and pushed his sweats off and kicked them away. Without any hesitation Jordan slid her hand into his and led him to the bed. They’d learned their lesson their first night together about falling onto the bed, so she gently pushed him down. He scooted upwards until his head was on the pillow.
She was like a graceful jungle cat as she crawled towards him, her beautiful, pert breasts, enticing him to touch her. But, he didn’t, too afraid it would break the spell. When she straddled his thighs and ran her hands up his chest, he reached over into the nightstand and pulled out a condom.
Her fingers barely grazed his as she took the rubber out of his hands. He couldn’t help watching her when she tore the wrapper and expertly rolled the condom over his thick dick. The minute his dick was sheathed inside the rubber, she rose up on her knees, and slowly lowered herself onto him. Never once did she break eye contact. Little moans fell from her lips, with each delicious inch that disappeared inside of her.
For a while she sat there, the pulse of her tight pussy making his dick throb. When she finally rocked her hips and began to ride him with an agonizing slowness that had his toes curling, he finally allowed himself to
touch her. His hands slid up her thighs until they reached her waist.
His whole body tingled with each wave of pleasure her undulating hips brought him. Watching her beautiful body writhe on top of him, made his dick even harder, if that was possible. He grasped her hips and thrust upward to meet her, still matching the slow pace and rhythm she initiated.
The moment he felt himself on the cusp of his climax, he sat up and pulled her close, kissing her until he left her breathless. He could feel her still trying to grind down on his dick. Gripping her tightly around the waist, he flipped them over, so she was now beneath him.
He continued to make love to her in the same slow, measured pace. Each time either of them would get close to a climax, he would stop and kiss her, prolonging the ending of their mating. Drawing out their pleasure made every inch of skin an erogenous zone.
When they both finally came, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He came so hard, for countless seconds, colors danced behind his closed eyes. They lay together panting, bodies quivering, limbs entangled. Their bodies glistened with a fine sheen of sweat.
Conor kissed her brow and whispered, “Mo ghrá,” into her hair.
Tonight, she didn’t slip into unconsciousness like she usually did after they’d made love.
When he was sure his legs were no longer jelly, he got up and went into the bathroom to remove the condom and toss it in the waste bin.
Jordan lay back against the pillows, her naked body on full display for him. He rejoined her in the bed. Propping himself on his elbow, he was able to look down at her. Neither of them spoke, still content to enjoy the quiet.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Why don’t I go make us some hot toddies and then we can lay here and drink them, talk, watch telly, or something else.” He gave her a suggestive look, while trailing a finger down her stomach and around her belly button.
Jordan stretched and then gifted him with a smile. “I’d like that.”