by K A Sands
We’d been through something harrowing, an event lesser folks would have struggled to come out the other end of. As fragile as Chrissie was right now, she was strong, had a fierceness I admired. She was asking me to fix her, to put her back together in the only way she knew how.
There was no turning this tragic soul away. I simply had no will to. What ever she asked of me - ever - I’d be hard pushed to say no to her. Chrissie was under my skin, exactly where she belonged, and I had nothing but hope that her feelings were as profound as mine were.
Chrissie
Maybe it was the wrong thing to ask but I wasn’t recanting my desire to go to bed with Warren. The intensity I craved to feel his skin against mine like I used to, to feel his love in the touch of his fingers was a visceral thing. Because I saw it, saw it shine so brightly I almost had to look away when he speared me with those eyes that gave everything away. Words he whispered in my ears sent shivers racing through my body. It felt like an eternity since I’d been there with him.
I wanted to feel alive with him, consumed in everything that made him the man he was. The man I’d fallen in love with. I wanted nobody else, saw nobody else, there was no one like Warren Simpson.
Slipping my hands from his neck, I tugged his hands from my waist then nudged him backwards so I could wrap my fingers in the safety of his. Without a word, I walked through the house, Warren dutifully following me up the stairs with his hand held tight in mine.
We’d been here before, were no strangers to one another’s bodies, but this felt right, like we were starting something brand new. I’d felt the stirring of it the last time we’d been in bed together, yet this was more, so much more.
There was no turning back, this was how it should be.
The curtains were already drawn, I’d been camped out in this room since coming home, my bedroom a sanctuary, the sheets still smelling of Warren. I’d slept the most I’d ever slept in the last few days, my body and head needing it. I hadn’t refused its demands. Now I was after something else. Something only Warren could give me.
Closing the door behind him, Warren glanced around the darkened room then pulled me into him, his arms a tight band around me. Gentle, but sure.
“What do you need?”
“You,” I replied without an ounce of hesitation. “Only you.”
Gulping, he tried a smile on for size and when he realised it fit, his frame relaxed into mine, his lips connecting with the skin of my neck. Almighty shivers wracked my body at the heat radiating through me.
His tepid hands pushed under the hem of the sweater I wore, the pads of his fingers rubbing circles into the small of my back. He groaned, a quiet noise that spoke volumes as he rubbed himself closer to me, his arousal becoming more prominent by the second.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me,” I said with absolute conviction. He wasn’t that sort of man.
“Not ever with intention,” he promised. Warren let go and motioned to the crumpled mess of the bed. “Get in. I’m going to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
Could a girl swoon anymore? Warren was not a cheesy guy, every word meant with intent. I obeyed, my sweater and pyjama bottoms hitting the floor on the short walk to the bed, I only stopped to pull off the socks. I looked ugly, knew I did, but Warren would make it better again. He was the only one who would be able to.
Into the bed I climbed and sat with the covers pooled at my waist, my naked breasts bared to him. I watched him wince, a stark reminder of what I looked like. I’d expected the reaction, you couldn’t look at me and not have some response.
“Chrissie...” he stammered, his words losing steam, compassion clear in his watery eyes.
Holding out my hand, I urged him over. “Take off your clothes.”
His movements were slow, unsure, but he did. Standing at the bottom of the bed, each garment hitting the floor at his feet until he was standing in just those tight boxer briefs I loved so much. The man was naturally fit looking, not all muscled and built up, but toned with the barest hint of defined abs. I loved that he was just a normal bloke who looked good standing at the foot of my bed. The semi bulge of his erection behind the black fabric of his briefs, all for me.
How did I get so lucky?
Shaun was gorgeous, in a rugged kind of way, I’d always found him attractive but looking at Warren now, there was no comparison to me. Warren was more... Everything. What I saw when I looked at him was all consuming and threatened to stall my breaths where I sat. When he finally stripped off his underwear, I gave a soft gasp, all else falling away. There was only room for us here.
He was hesitant when he climbed into bed beside me. Gentle when his fingers trailed down the skin of my arm. Warm when my body fell into his. A hand flitted through my hair before he leaned in and took a kiss, firm but perfect, finally connected as one.
The hardness of him against my thigh was exciting and I moaned with an enthusiasm that had been lacking in my life for days.
“If this is what you need, then take it.”
Laying on his back, he scuttled down in the bed, making his intentions clear. He wanted this to be about me, not him. He was afraid of where to put his hands, afraid of how to touch me. I was still sore in places, I wasn’t going to deny it, but warren was what I wanted. I could grit my teeth and soar above any physical pain because I knew of the undoubted joy Warren could give me.
Craving Warren, like I’d never craved anything before, my heart unclenched and a feeling of serenity flooded through me, I couldn’t help but smile.
Climbing up on my knees beside him, I laid my palm flat on his chest and smoothed my fingers downwards until I could feel the coarse hair at his groin. Rubbing circles, he closed his eyes and licked at his lips. “Not about me, Chrissie.”
Oh, but it was. It was all about him.
Lower, I moved lower and clasped my hand around his thick girth, a fissure of pleasure rolling through me as I stroked him from root to tip, pleased he was leaking for me already.
His hand inched up my thigh then back down, goose bumps dotting my skin. Then up he went again, moving to the very core of me, his finger swiping back and forth but not penetrating.
“Wet... For me,” he grinned and opened his eyes.
“Always.” No one revved me up as much as he did. Right now, I wanted to skip the foreplay, needed Warren to fill me and take me.
I slipped my hand from him and drew back the covers, indulging in his fingers strumming a soft song between my legs, grinning at his erection standing proud. His cock strained upwards, a bead of his essence perched on the tip. Bending over, I sucked the crown into my mouth and lapped him up. Warren’s hips jerked, and a violent hiss erupted from his mouth as I tongued the slit, searching for more.
Not staying that way long, I was too far gone to remain hunched over him like I was. His cock popped from my mouth when finally, he pushed a finger inside me, sending my libido sky high.
Feeling bold, I ground down on his hand, moaning, my head tipped back, and breasts pushed outwards. They ached with need, over riding residual pain that had been ever present for days now. It was a sweet kind of torture I bathed in.
Rising on my knees, Warren’s finger slipped from me and I opened my eyes to observe him greedily suck his finger into his mouth. I made my move and straddled the tops of his thighs, his rigid length right in front of me begging to be swallowed whole.
Running my fingers up the underside, along that thick vein, Warren’s hands fisted in the sheets either side of him. Like he didn’t dare touch. I wouldn’t take offence. Being black and blue in places gave him a free pass. He couldn’t grip my wrists because they were bandaged still, he couldn’t play with my breasts because the steri strips were a stark reminder another man had sullied what was his.
Suddenly, all my bravado fled, and I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. There was no doubt he was turned on, the evidence straining under my fingertips, but the cautious lines of his body sa
id otherwise.
“Chrissie,” he sighed, one hand pressing up my thigh. “You’re beautiful, baby.”
Maybe once, but not now, even my tattoos I loved so much were no longer vibrant art on my skin, more than one piece more than likely needing repaired. An errant tear tumbled unbidden from the corner of my eye and I leaned forward, my body connecting with Warren’s, needing to hide.
Warmth gently caressed up and down my back, soothing my destructive thoughts. “We don’t need to do this.”
But I wanted to, I really did. Warren had the means to make me feel like a desirable and loved woman again. I coveted that more than anything. To be me again. I sniffed as I tucked my face into the heated skin of his neck then snorted at how unsexy I must have sounded.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional.”
“Chrissie, stop. If you want to lay here and sob yourself to sleep then do it. If you want to rage and scream, I’m on board with that too. I’ll give you whatever you need, baby.”
“Will you touch me?”
His hands stilled on my back and he let out a considerate exhale. “I want to, I do. But I don’t know where to put my hands.” His fingers dug a little harder into my skin. “Don’t ask me to hurt you, please.”
I kissed his neck, the taste of his skin all I’d ever need. Wiggling against him, Warren was still hard between us, I decided just to go for it. Hitching up on my elbows, I manoeuvred myself, his cock between my legs then rubbed back and forth for a minute.
His grip slipped to my hips and he lifted me slightly, angling his cock right where I demanded it. Pushing in slowly, he never pulled his heavy-lidded eyes from mine until he was all the way inside, my pussy hugging him like a second skin.
“Kiss me,” he begged.
Devouring his mouth as if I’d been starving and had never felt his lips against mine before, he rocked in and out gently. When I dragged my mouth from his, he collapsed backwards on the bed and stared up at me with all the love in the world.
He didn’t need the words; I knew what he was doing and what he was saying. Time to take what he offered. Control, he was giving me my control back.
Using my knees as an anchor, I set an easy pace, my palms coming from the bed to lean on his chest as leverage while I sat up further. Fucking him slowly, my hips rolled while inside my heart pitched with every up and down stroke. It was transcendental, there was no other word to describe how he made me fall apart while putting me back together again. I climbed, watched him climb too, with his neck flushed crimson and his top teeth sunk into his bottom lip.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said again, and this time there was no reason to disbelieve. To Warren, I was. Grunting, I picked up my pace, hungry for him. If I was tumbling over that cliff, which was fast approaching, then I was hauling him with me. “Chrissie.” My name was a growl in the quiet room, a warning he was losing fast, and I wasn’t too far behind him.
Hands slid from my hips and one gripped my thigh, his thumb digging in to sweaty flesh while the other slinked between my legs, a finger pushing against my clit.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck... Warren.”
“Ride me harder. Come on.”
Canting up and down, almost slamming myself into him, the constant strum against my nub had me peaking far quicker than I imagined I could. Giving a few more deep, quick thrusts, I impaled downwards and came with a savagery that caught me off guard. Catching my breath was almost impossible as I spasmed and dug my nails into Warren’s chest, my pussy hot and heaving.
Warmth flooded my insides and Warren cried out, his back arching off the bed as he emptied inside me while I pulsed around him still.
Nothing had ever felt better. We belonged right where we were.
We rocked against one another, chasing the last of our highs. My heart was so full. I looked deep into Warren’s face and recognised the look. Tears welled in his eyes threatening to spill if he moved. Kissing the corners of his eyes, I tasted the salt of his sorrow, understood, but I never wanted to see them again.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He shook his head, the tears falling free. “I can barely breathe, Chrissie.”
Oh yeah, I totally got that. Not from suffocation, rather from emotions that were overwhelming in the aftermath. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“You could never.”
No one had ever had an ounce of faith in me until this man had walked into my life and shot down all my defences. We may have started as a way to stave off the loneliness, but now Warren and his life were my everything.
All else could go to hell, it didn’t matter to me.
Warren
Chrissie’s soft snores lulled me, allowing me to relax and finally take an easy breath. The sex had helped, but it was no substitute for holding her in my arms. Afterwards, the tears had come, I couldn’t hold them back any longer. Being emotionally spent, I just wanted to fall asleep with her. Her body wrapped around mine was all I needed; all I could think about. There was nowhere else I would ever call home.
Except now I had to take a leak and grab a bottle of water. Sliding from the bed as gently as possible, I creeped into the en suite. Taking care of the toilet issue, I washed my hands before grabbing my briefs from the floor and shoving them on. Then I went to raid Chrissie’s fridge.
I didn’t get as far as the kitchen, stopping in my tracks when muted light caught my attention from under the bottom of the spare room door. I hadn’t noticed it on the way to Chrissie’s bedroom but then again, I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything besides her, pre-occupied with the beautiful woman guiding me up the stairs and to her room.
Pushing my ear to the closed door, naturally wary, I listened for any noise beyond. There was nothing but silence bar the usual sounds a house made when all was quiet, nothing to be concerned about. A lamp had been left on. It was late afternoon, but the house was dark enough now to see lights, I wondered why Chrissie would have a one on in a room she didn’t use, especially during the day.
Still, I gingerly entered the room, ready for anything. The breath was knocked from my lungs as I stood in the middle of the room and took in what I was seeing. The space was no longer empty like it had been last week.
In the corner, the source of the light sat like a token of the purest love I’d ever had the mind to witness. A little blue spaceship lamp sat on a white bedside table, the glow in no way subdued. I scanned the rest of the items packed next to the table against the wall along with a myriad of bags.
Spinning around, I gulped around the lump in my throat, my love for Chrissie growing more than I ever thought it could.
Little boy’s things. Toys and pictures, a blanket with planets on it. A pre-packed bed rested behind a huge teddy bear that looked soft enough for a small boy to cuddle to sleep at night. I didn’t miss the pots of paint and the brushes set off to the side. Making a beeline for them, I parked my arse on the floor, awe pouring from me. Picking up one of the brushes, holding it loosely in my lap, I surveyed the room again.
Finally, sitting there in my underwear, I hung my head low and let it all go. The hurt bearing down on me was a good hurt, and nothing to do with what Chrissie was obviously trying to achieve. I tried hard to reign myself in, but fat tears I refused to be ashamed of ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. I had no mind to swipe them away, she’d earned them.
Chrissie had been making plans, making a home. A home for my son. Like she knew it was a foregone conclusion, only a matter of time that we’d all be together under this roof. If I’d ever had a doubt, this room - Kieran’s bedroom - wiped every last one away. I was going to give her the world if the stubborn thing let me.
Getting up, I studiously trekked downstairs, paintbrush still in hand and grabbed a knife from the cutlery drawer. By the time I’d returned to the room, my tears had dried and the smile I was wearing hurt my cheeks so good. It was like I’d won the rollover on the goddamned lottery, except this was a hundred times b
etter and far more satisfying. Worth more than all the money in the world.
Prying open the paint pot with the knife, I set it on the dust sheet that Chrissie had bought then dipped the brush into the paint. Taking a deep breath, I stood before the bare wall. That first swipe of green paint was made with a nervous energy I couldn’t quite let go of. With the last swipe of bristles on plaster, I was invigorated and determined I’d get what I’d always been looking for.
The muted chime of my phone was a timely reminder I wasn’t home free yet, Kayleigh still had Kieran. Tony had to find my ex, I had to get my son. Only then could I slip into the skin that belonged to me. Only then could I rest easy.
Laying the paint brush on the lid of the pot, I made my way back to the bedroom where I’d left my love sleeping. She was awake, just starting to right herself when I retrieved my phone from my jeans on the floor.
Thumbing the phone on, a picture message appeared from Ryder and my good mood soured at the implication. I wasn’t a fan of these types of texts.
“What is it?”
I didn’t answer, opening the text instead. The minute I did, I squeezed my eyes closed. Definitely not good news.
RYDER: Is this him?
Yes. The man standing outside Kayleigh’s house, with two other guys, was the man I hated more than any man I’d ever met. And that included the man who’d fucked my ex-wife on my living room floor while he pretended to be my best friend. I texted the single word confirming it was, then threw the phone on top of my crumpled jeans.
On hands and knees, I crawled up the bed to Chrissie, laying over her body that was still cosy and snug underneath the covers. Smoothing her hair from her face, I swooped in and kissed her nose.
“Kieran’s not safe.”
“Is it your ex?”
“I think she’s done something stupid.”
Chrissie grimaced then blew out a small breath, her hand coming up to caress my cheek. “She double crossed him, didn’t she?”
I hadn’t asked, but now I knew. Ryder had told Chrissie more than I had about Kayleigh’s involvement. I should have been cross, it was mine to tell but, in that moment, I was grateful I didn’t have to go through it with her.
