Her breath came as hot and frantically as mine, as though there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Her hands moved through my hair, over my jaw, down my neck. “I want you,” she panted against my lips. “God, I want you so badly.”
“I want you too,” I told her, the words spilling heedlessly from my mouth, if not from my heart, “and you’re wrong. I do have feelings for you.”
She took my face in her hands. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“But—but you don’t feel things like this. You told me you don’t. You shut down.”
“I don’t want to shut down with you,” I said as that ache in my chest widened and deepened. It filled with a rush of emotion for her—warmth and passion and a ferocious urge to keep her safe. To make her mine. To be the only one who got to touch her this way.
To be the one she loved.
“Then don’t,” she begged, pressing kisses all over my face, eyelids and nose and temples and chin. “Don’t close yourself off. Let me in.”
“I want to,” I said, my forehead resting on hers, my hands clutching her thighs. “I’ll try.”
Her mouth found mine, her tongue slipping between my lips. My body was on fire, radiating with heat and desire for her, with an energy it couldn’t contain. I turned to the stairs, too impatient to make it to my bedroom. Setting her down on a step, I dragged her underwear off her legs and wrestled my shirt and undershirt from my body in one movement. When I saw her lying back on her elbows, knees open, her dress at her waist, I dove between her legs and buried my tongue in her pussy.
She writhed and moaned above me. I pressed her thighs wider apart and devoured every inch of her that I could. I licked and sucked and stroked. I went slow enough to drive her crazy and fast enough to make her scream. I fucked her with my tongue.
I’d never get enough, not if I had her for a million years. It would never be enough.
I slid two fingers inside her as I sucked her clit and felt her body go stiff. Her hand fisted in my hair. My name fell from her lips. Her cries grew louder and louder until finally, her body was seized with convulsions and her pussy clenched repeatedly around my fingers. God, I wanted my cock right there. I was so hard it hurt.
I moved above her. Her hands were fumbling with my belt and I took over, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping. Shoving my jeans down my thighs.
Within seconds I was easing into her, both of us groaning loudly. She was warm and wet and soft and swollen and so fucking beautiful this way, her hair disheveled, her mouth open, her body all mine. I went slow and deep, praying to God I wouldn’t come too soon. I reached beneath her and tilted her hips the way she’d shown me last night, trying to get the right angle.
“Yes,” she panted, her hands on my ass. “Oh fuck, that’s perfect. Right there …”
“Come for me,” I demanded, fucking her hard and fast. “I want you to come for me … now, now …”
A second later I was lost to it, my orgasm crashing through my body like a hurricane against the shore, my cock pulsing deep within her. She clung and quivered and gasped beneath me, reaching her second climax just as I reached my first.
And all I could think of as our bodies trembled and stilled together was that I was more than just alive. I was in love. I was trusted. I was understood.
I didn’t have to be alone.
“I’m in love with you,” I said, my heart about to explode from my chest. Both of us were breathing heavy.
She went absolutely still. “What?”
I picked up my head, propped my arms on the step beneath her shoulders. “I’m in love with you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Do you mean it?”
“Yeah.” I laughed a little. “I do. I didn’t really plan on saying that out loud, but I don’t want to take it back.”
She gasped. “No! Don’t take it back.” Her arms twined around my neck and she pulled me closer, burying her face in my neck. “I’m in love with you too. Oh my God. This doesn’t feel real.”
“I know.”
“How did it happen so fast?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
She loosened her hold on me a little and pulled back to look at me. Her expression was smug. “I knew you were the man in my dreams.”
Eventually, we made it up to my bedroom, where we undressed all the way and slipped between fresh clean sheets.
“I love that you make the bed so nicely, but we really need to get you a frame or something,” she said, rubbing my chest with one hand, her chin propped in the other.
I lay on my back, hands behind my head. I felt better than I had in fucking years. Lighter. Happier. Hopeful. “Okay.”
Her hand stopped moving. “That was easy.”
“The frame won’t be for me. It’ll be for you. I could sleep anywhere.”
“Do you think you’ll stay in this house?” she asked.
“Probably through the winter. I’ve still got a lot of work to do on it to get it ready for sale in the spring.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Is that what you love to do? Fix up houses? Or do you like the grounds keeping work more?”
“I like both, I guess. I like working with my hands, doing something different every day.” I hesitated, then went on. “Back in Ohio, before I re-enlisted, I was enrolled in college classes to get my degree in landscape architecture.”
“What happened?”
I looked at the ceiling. “I hated it. Couldn’t stand being in classes with all these entitled little assholes who complained about the most trivial shit you can imagine. I’d just stare at them and feel this … rage. I couldn’t take it. Decided college wasn’t for me.”
She nodded. “Is that when you were married?”
“Yeah. That was another thing that pissed her off. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t just ignore everyone around me and get through it.”
“God, what a bitch.”
“Yeah. She was.” Then I laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“You calling someone a name. It’s not like you.”
She sighed. “No. It isn’t. But I couldn’t help it.”
“It’s okay.” I moved closer to her and gathered her in my arms, kissed the top of her head. “You weren’t wrong.”
We lay there for a minute or two, her head on my chest, our breathing deep and rhythmic in the dark.
“How many times have you been in love?” she asked softly.
“Once.”
“With your ex-wife?”
“With you.”
She sat up and looked at me. “Really?”
“Really. I barely tolerated her.”
“Why’d you marry her?”
“Good question.”
“I’m serious. Why?”
“Can’t you tell me? You’re the expert.”
She poked my chest. “You’re the expert on you, Ryan. I just like to listen.”
I inhaled and exhaled, trying to think of one good reason I’d gotten married. “I guess I was trying to feel normal, and getting married seemed like what a normal guy would do in my situation. And she seemed willing to put up with my shit, at least initially. But I didn’t feel anything for her. Not like this.”
“Do you … do you feel normal now?”
I wanted to answer honestly. “Not completely,” I said. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever feel normal, Stella. Hell, I don’t even know for sure what it is. I can do normal things and act like everyone else, but inside, I don’t know how to be anyone but me.”
She nestled against my side again and wrapped her arms around me. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to be anyone but you. If you don’t want to be normal, you don’t have to be.”
I kissed the top of her head again and held her close. “Right now, I feel safe and understood, and to me, that’s even better than normal.”
She pressed her lips to my chest. “I feel safe too.”
“Good.” I closed my eyes and prayed it could last.
“I want you too,” I told her, the words spilling heedlessly from my mouth, if not from my heart, “and you’re wrong. I do have feelings for you.”
She took my face in her hands. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“But—but you don’t feel things like this. You told me you don’t. You shut down.”
“I don’t want to shut down with you,” I said as that ache in my chest widened and deepened. It filled with a rush of emotion for her—warmth and passion and a ferocious urge to keep her safe. To make her mine. To be the only one who got to touch her this way.
To be the one she loved.
“Then don’t,” she begged, pressing kisses all over my face, eyelids and nose and temples and chin. “Don’t close yourself off. Let me in.”
“I want to,” I said, my forehead resting on hers, my hands clutching her thighs. “I’ll try.”
Her mouth found mine, her tongue slipping between my lips. My body was on fire, radiating with heat and desire for her, with an energy it couldn’t contain. I turned to the stairs, too impatient to make it to my bedroom. Setting her down on a step, I dragged her underwear off her legs and wrestled my shirt and undershirt from my body in one movement. When I saw her lying back on her elbows, knees open, her dress at her waist, I dove between her legs and buried my tongue in her pussy.
She writhed and moaned above me. I pressed her thighs wider apart and devoured every inch of her that I could. I licked and sucked and stroked. I went slow enough to drive her crazy and fast enough to make her scream. I fucked her with my tongue.
I’d never get enough, not if I had her for a million years. It would never be enough.
I slid two fingers inside her as I sucked her clit and felt her body go stiff. Her hand fisted in my hair. My name fell from her lips. Her cries grew louder and louder until finally, her body was seized with convulsions and her pussy clenched repeatedly around my fingers. God, I wanted my cock right there. I was so hard it hurt.
I moved above her. Her hands were fumbling with my belt and I took over, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping. Shoving my jeans down my thighs.
Within seconds I was easing into her, both of us groaning loudly. She was warm and wet and soft and swollen and so fucking beautiful this way, her hair disheveled, her mouth open, her body all mine. I went slow and deep, praying to God I wouldn’t come too soon. I reached beneath her and tilted her hips the way she’d shown me last night, trying to get the right angle.
“Yes,” she panted, her hands on my ass. “Oh fuck, that’s perfect. Right there …”
“Come for me,” I demanded, fucking her hard and fast. “I want you to come for me … now, now …”
A second later I was lost to it, my orgasm crashing through my body like a hurricane against the shore, my cock pulsing deep within her. She clung and quivered and gasped beneath me, reaching her second climax just as I reached my first.
And all I could think of as our bodies trembled and stilled together was that I was more than just alive. I was in love. I was trusted. I was understood.
I didn’t have to be alone.
“I’m in love with you,” I said, my heart about to explode from my chest. Both of us were breathing heavy.
She went absolutely still. “What?”
I picked up my head, propped my arms on the step beneath her shoulders. “I’m in love with you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Do you mean it?”
“Yeah.” I laughed a little. “I do. I didn’t really plan on saying that out loud, but I don’t want to take it back.”
She gasped. “No! Don’t take it back.” Her arms twined around my neck and she pulled me closer, burying her face in my neck. “I’m in love with you too. Oh my God. This doesn’t feel real.”
“I know.”
“How did it happen so fast?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
She loosened her hold on me a little and pulled back to look at me. Her expression was smug. “I knew you were the man in my dreams.”
Eventually, we made it up to my bedroom, where we undressed all the way and slipped between fresh clean sheets.
“I love that you make the bed so nicely, but we really need to get you a frame or something,” she said, rubbing my chest with one hand, her chin propped in the other.
I lay on my back, hands behind my head. I felt better than I had in fucking years. Lighter. Happier. Hopeful. “Okay.”
Her hand stopped moving. “That was easy.”
“The frame won’t be for me. It’ll be for you. I could sleep anywhere.”
“Do you think you’ll stay in this house?” she asked.
“Probably through the winter. I’ve still got a lot of work to do on it to get it ready for sale in the spring.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Is that what you love to do? Fix up houses? Or do you like the grounds keeping work more?”
“I like both, I guess. I like working with my hands, doing something different every day.” I hesitated, then went on. “Back in Ohio, before I re-enlisted, I was enrolled in college classes to get my degree in landscape architecture.”
“What happened?”
I looked at the ceiling. “I hated it. Couldn’t stand being in classes with all these entitled little assholes who complained about the most trivial shit you can imagine. I’d just stare at them and feel this … rage. I couldn’t take it. Decided college wasn’t for me.”
She nodded. “Is that when you were married?”
“Yeah. That was another thing that pissed her off. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t just ignore everyone around me and get through it.”
“God, what a bitch.”
“Yeah. She was.” Then I laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“You calling someone a name. It’s not like you.”
She sighed. “No. It isn’t. But I couldn’t help it.”
“It’s okay.” I moved closer to her and gathered her in my arms, kissed the top of her head. “You weren’t wrong.”
We lay there for a minute or two, her head on my chest, our breathing deep and rhythmic in the dark.
“How many times have you been in love?” she asked softly.
“Once.”
“With your ex-wife?”
“With you.”
She sat up and looked at me. “Really?”
“Really. I barely tolerated her.”
“Why’d you marry her?”
“Good question.”
“I’m serious. Why?”
“Can’t you tell me? You’re the expert.”
She poked my chest. “You’re the expert on you, Ryan. I just like to listen.”
I inhaled and exhaled, trying to think of one good reason I’d gotten married. “I guess I was trying to feel normal, and getting married seemed like what a normal guy would do in my situation. And she seemed willing to put up with my shit, at least initially. But I didn’t feel anything for her. Not like this.”
“Do you … do you feel normal now?”
I wanted to answer honestly. “Not completely,” I said. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever feel normal, Stella. Hell, I don’t even know for sure what it is. I can do normal things and act like everyone else, but inside, I don’t know how to be anyone but me.”
She nestled against my side again and wrapped her arms around me. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to be anyone but you. If you don’t want to be normal, you don’t have to be.”
I kissed the top of her head again and held her close. “Right now, I feel safe and understood, and to me, that’s even better than normal.”
She pressed her lips to my chest. “I feel safe too.”
“Good.” I closed my eyes and prayed it could last.
