“What now?” he asks.
“This was the last straw. I finally had enough and threw him out.”
“Good for you.”
“I should’ve left earlier but what can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.”
“Yes you are,” he smiles. “You just picked the wrong guy to be romantic with. You were in love, and you can’t be faulted for that.”
I close my eyes. “I would have loved him forever. Like I said … I’m stupid.”
“He’s the stupid one. He had a beautiful woman and let her get away.” Obviously trying to change the subject, he asks, “So how’re things been going for you otherwise?”
Missing his cue to change the subject, I continue, “Honestly, I miss him. I wish I didn’t but I do. You know, I really thought he was the one.”
“I hope it’s getting better,” he says, leaning back on the bench. “At least a little?”
“Yeah, maybe … little by little. I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“I guess not.”
I suddenly feel Ryan pulling away. His tone and his body language tell me he’s heard enough. Instead of telling him how glad I am to be here, all I’ve done is talk about how much I miss my ex. My emotions are just too raw. I change the conversation to pull him back in before I lose him forever. “How you been?” I ask.
“I’m okay, I guess. Busy at work but I don’t like the firm where I work. I want to open my own office.”
“Then you should do it,” I smile.
“I bought a house!” he tells me. “Nothing big, but it’s nice. It has a big front porch and a small backyard.”
“It sounds cute,” I say. “So … are you dating anyone?”
“I date someone but nothing serious.”
Hearing him say he’s dating another woman taps into my jealousy, which I can’t believe. I’m not sure what I was expecting. He’s good-looking and successful. Did I actually think he was going to say he’s been sitting at home waiting for my boyfriend to leave me? Knowing he’s dating someone else causes me to want him even more, and to be a little more forward.
“Lucky girl,” I say.
“It’s not like that. It’s casual,” he answers. “We get together now and then but there’s no commitment.”
“No commitment? So … does that mean you can date?” I ask.
“Can I date you?” he asks. “I don’t know. Would you like to get together again?”
“I’d like that,” I answer with a smile.
We sit by the water for another two hours, and the conversation takes a much easier turn. I learn that he was born and raised in Austin, and has lots of family in the area. He went to the University of Texas where he got an engineering degree and then a law degree. He got a job at a big law firm that pays well but he hates every minute of it. He’s dated several women but nothing serious. His dream is to have a family and own his own law office.
“It sounds like you’ve done everything right,” I say.
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’ve sure done a lot better than I have.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he says as he reaches out and takes my hand. “You just got with the wrong person.”
Tears well up in my eyes again as I look out at the water. “You know, if not for Jake, my life might have turned out very different.”
“Faith, you’re only nineteen years old. You have the rest of your life in front of you.”
I told him I’m nineteen because it sounded older than eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in a few short months anyway. I turn to him, and a tear falls down my cheek, which I quickly regret. He lets go of my hand and stands up from the bench.
“I really need to be going,” he sighs.
We get up and walk toward his car without saying a word, and I realize I’ve blown everything. When we stop at his door, I reach for his hand to pull him back in and say, “Ryan, I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you.”
I want him to tell me how much he’s enjoyed seeing me too. Instead, he opens his car door, and starts to get in. He turns to me one last time and says, “Faith, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re gonna be okay.”
His face shows no emotion, which causes fear to sweep over my body. I do the only thing I can think of to turn things around. I put my hand on his cheek, turn his face to mine, and say, “Ryan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’d really like to see you again.”
His face softens just a little. He pulls me closer, and slowly moves his lips to mine. I already wanted to kiss him but I had no idea the pleasure that awaited me. I’ve been kissed many times before but I’ve always felt like I was the teacher. Now I feel like the pupil, and I have so much to learn. His lips are soft and moist and he turns his head perfectly to mine so our lips meet like two puzzle pieces perfectly designed for each other. He opens his mouth just enough so his kiss is easy without being overpowering. When his tongue enters my mouth, the taste of peppermint fills my mouth and warms my throat. When I offer him my tongue in return, he gently holds each side of my face, pulls my face tighter to his, and pushes his tongue even deeper into my mouth. I put my fingers in the belt loops of his pants, and push my body against him, trapping him against his car. I can feel his body pulse against mine.
My mouth, my stomach, my breasts, and my legs respond to his tongue, and I push my body even harder against him. My heart races and my mouth is on fire as we continue to work our tongues together like we’ve done this a hundred times before. I can feel him against me. I don’t know how long two people can kiss but I don’t want this to end.
When I feel the slightest indication he’s pulling away, I grab the back of his head, and hold him in place. People pass by but I don’t care. We’re hidden only by his car door, but I have no intention of surrendering this moment. The kiss that leaves me breathless starts all over again.
When Ryan finally pulls away I say, “Wow, you’re a great kisser.”
He takes a deep breath, and says, “So are you.” He brushes my hair aside to expose my neck. He starts kissing, and then sucking on my neck just below my ear, hard enough to make me flinch. This sends waves of pleasure down my whole body and between my legs. I press my pelvis against his, causing a warmth between my legs. I’ve never been kissed like this; it makes me forget where I’m at. Adrenaline fills my body from him sucking so hard on my neck. I’ve got ivory white skin, and I have no doubt it’ll be purple by morning but I don’t care. It just feels too good. My heavy breathing and moans let him know it’s driving me crazy so he sucks even harder. When he finally stops I’m breathless.
“Oh my God, Ryan,” I exclaim, trying to catch my breath.
We stand beside his car until the sexual energy dies down enough for us to have any kind of conversation. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, looking in my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I first saw you.”
“I don’t know why we waited so long,” I gush.
He opens my door and says, “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”
He drives a Nissan Maxima that looks new. It’s the nicest car I’ve ever been in. “Which way to your apartment?” he asks after starting the engine.
I buckle my seatbelt, point at the road, and tell him, “Go through the light and I’ll tell you where to turn next.”
We drive forward, and I can still feel his mouth on my neck. I want him. The thought of stopping the car on the side of the road and sliding onto his lap runs through my mind. Instead, I reach over and put my hand on his, and whisper, “I want to be with you tonight.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, taking my hand. “I really care about you. You’re just out of a long relationship. I don’t want you to regret anything later.”
I undo my seatbelt, bring my lips to his, and kiss him while he’s still driving. He pulls the car to the side of the road so we can continue our kiss. I suddenly realize he has his hand on my breast which sends adrenalin throu
gh my body. It makes me want him even more but I wait for him to finally pull away. I put my seatbelt back on and he drives to his house with my hand in his.
We pull into the driveway to his very cute brick house with a nicely mowed lawn. As soon as we enter through his garage door, a small black and white furry puppy runs up and scratches both our legs, begging to be held.
“How adorable,’ I squeal, bending down to pick her up.
She licks my face with so much excitement you’d think she’s been left alone for weeks. I have no doubt she’d continue for hours but I’ve got other lips to kiss. I set her back on the floor but everywhere we go she follows, soaking up all the attention we’re willing to give.
His house is clean, cozy, and nicely furnished. It’s the kind of house I dream of owning one day. The kitchen is clean with white tile floors, brown cabinets, and all new appliances that came with the house. There’s no mixer, blender, toaster oven, cookbooks, spice rack, or anything else to suggest a meal has ever been cooked here. Mail is scattered on the counter along with a couple of law books stacked one on top of another. There’s an open Bible on the kitchen table that surprises me. I’ve never given God much thought, and I didn’t take Ryan to be the kind of guy who’d read a Bible or go to church.
He takes my hand and shows me around. His living room has a beautiful new couch with a matching loveseat, a glass coffee table and end table, and a big television set on a television stand. There’s a video game console on the coffee table with game cases stacked beside it. There’s a large picture placed perfectly on the wall. There are blinds but no curtains. Again, the room is nice but it needs a woman’s touch.
He shows me all three bedrooms. He’s turned one into an office; the other has a complete home gym and a futon bed, and the master bedroom is beautifully furnished with a queen-size bed, matching dresser, armoire, and two nightstands. It’s generally clean but the bed is unmade and there’s a shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and socks on the floor. He quickly straightens the bedspread, picks up the clothes, and tosses them in a hamper. He comes back to the door where I’ve been standing while he straightens up the room. We share a smile, and then a laugh, and he takes my hand and leads me to his bed.
I sit down on the edge of his bed with him standing over me. We start kissing and I kick off my shoes. In the middle of us kissing, he unbuttons my shirt and unclasps my bra like he’s done it many times before. Before I know it, I’m sitting in front of him in only my jeans.
Jake is the only guy who’s ever seen me naked, and I’m still not used to undressing in front of a man. Jake would always remind me how small my breasts are. After two years of hearing this, I’ve grown to hate them. I cross my arms to cover them.
Frowning, Ryan takes my wrists and slowly moves them away. “What are you doing?” he asks gently.
“Nothing,” I answer lifting his face to mine so he’s not looking down.
He removes my hands from his face, and looks directly at me again. “Your breasts are beautiful.”
Blushing, I cover them again. “Stop,” I say. “I know they’re not.”
He gently lays me back on the bed, and starts caressing my left breast with his hand while he kisses the other. I stop resisting when he again repeats, “You’re so beautiful.”
He unbuttons my jeans, and I grab each leg and wiggle out of them. His hands feel soft and warm on my body. I want to be held. I want to be touched, which I’m sure he can tell. He goes back to kissing my breasts and works his way from my breasts to my stomach, and down between my legs. No guy has ever kissed me there, and my legs are shaking with arousal. Having him so close is uncomfortable and embarrassing. I stop him, pull him up to me, and bring his mouth to mine.
Sex has never been so intimate, and it’s never been about me. He’s slow, gentle, and seems infatuated with every part of my body. We move together in perfect rhythm. Each time he thrusts, a wave of pleasure travels up my spine until I tilt my head back at the end of the wave. This continues again and again.
This is the first time I’ve ever felt like a man has actually made love to me. All the pain that’s consumed my soul over the past months disappears. He empties me of all my hurt, and fills me with his love. When we’re finished, he lies next to me with his hand holding the side of my face and his thumb stroking my cheek. For the first time in my life, I feel wanted … really wanted. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away.
“You okay?” he asks.
I’m so overcome with emotion that I can’t talk. All I can do is nod as another tear runs down my face. This time it’s him who wipes my tears away
“I don’t want you to be sad,” he says.
Still unable to talk, I reach up, pull his mouth to mine, and give him a kiss soaked in my tears. In a quivering voice, I whisper in his ear, “I knew making love was supposed to feel like this. I knew it was supposed to mean something real.” I kiss his mouth, his face, and his neck, and whisper, “I’ve never been happier.”
We make love again, and I fall asleep in his arms.
The next day I call into work, and tell them I’m sick and won’t be coming in. I stay at Ryan’s house from that day forward. Each morning I kiss him goodbye, and wait for him to come home with dinner on the table. Night after night we talk, we laugh, I cry, and we make love. So many nights he leaves for work exhausted after staying up all night.
After spending these last years trying to make something work that was never meant to be, this feels so right. Giving myself completely to Ryan is my first step toward being whole again.
– CHAPTER 6 –
A week after I start staying at Ryan’s house, I drive his car to my apartment to get some clothes and a few personal items. Seeing my apartment takes me back to another world. The bed where I found Jake with another woman still sits in the bedroom. A few small pieces of shattered glass still lay on the floor. The phone where I called his girlfriend still hangs on the wall, although it hasn’t had service for months. The clothes he left behind that I threw in the trash and took back out again still lie in the closet. The drawer I threw open so violently that it broke the tracks still sits crooked in the dresser. When I walk into the kitchen, I remember the argument that got so crazy he slapped me and I returned the favor. It’s hard to believe this was the life I once thought I’d die if I couldn’t have.
Two weeks later I return to my apartment to get more of my things. Just before I back out the driveway, Ryan comes running up to my window.
“Why don’t you get all your stuff and bring it over here?”
“You want me to move my things in here?” I ask, making sure I heard him correctly.
“No, I want you to move in here,” he says. “Your stuff gets to come with you.”
I can’t believe this. My whole face lights up. “Are you sure you want me here?”
“I’m sure. Do you want to be here?”
“I love yo—” comes out of my mouth before I realize it. I catch myself, and say, “I love staying here.”
“I love you,” he says, and pauses for a brief second before adding, “staying here too.” He leans in the car window, kisses me, and gives me the cutest wink.
After spending almost four years with someone who treats me like I’m disposable, it feels great to be with someone who wants me. I drive to my apartment thinking about everything that just happened. We each just said, “I love you” after being together only two weeks. It took Jake over a year to say those words, and the only time I heard it in the past year was when I found out he was calling some girl in Houston. I hate even walking through the front door of my old apartment again. I take what I can, and leave everything else behind. It’s the last time I ever return to that apartment.
Over the next couple of months, I work less so I’m home every evening and on the weekends. No more worrying about other women. I have a man who loves me and wants to be home every night. He buys me clothes, a used car, and anything I need. The more I protest the more he wants to buy it.
>
We have so much in common. We both like concerts, theater, dancing, live music, and many of the same movies. We’re both hopeless romantics. We exchange cards, notes, flowers, and gifts every chance we get. Christmas and birthdays are magical. This is so different from anything I’ve ever experienced before. Jake never once remembered my birthday.
Night after night we lie in bed, and I tell him about my life over the past few years. I replay everything over and over. I need to vent and he’s there to listen. I have to stop myself from time to time so it’s not too obvious that I still have feelings for my ex.
“Have you talked to him?” he asks.
The truth is I have talked to Jake. The first time we talked was about a month ago when he came to my work and sat down in my section. I hadn’t seen him in months, and I was shocked to see him walk in. I could have switched tables with another waitress but I had to hear what he came to say. I figured he left his girlfriend, and wanted me back. I deserved an apology, and if he wanted to give it, then I wanted to hear it.
Well, he definitely wasn’t there to apologize. When he reached for my hand, I froze in place. He asked if we could hang out after work. We talked a little with his hand in mine, and I actually agreed to tell my boss I have an emergency and leave with him.
“So you and your girlfriend broke up?” I asked.
“No, we’re still together. Things are just fucked up right now.”
As soon as I heard his words, I pulled my hand out of his and left him at the table. I went straight to the bathroom and cried. I can’t believe I could be so stupid. Even more, I can’t believe he still has a hold on my heart. Just when I thought I was doing a little better, he pops up out of nowhere and almost had me back in his bed. When I returned from the bathroom he was gone. I called him twice afterward but his story and his intentions never changed:
“If you want to have sex, I’m all in. Otherwise, don’t call me again.”
The Killing of Faith: A Suspense Thriller You Won't Soon Forget. (The Killing of Faith Series Book 1) Page 4
