by K. Langston
I take one final glance before shutting the door and catch a glimpse of Asher scowling at his pissed off brother.
“Need some help with that?” Asher asks as he approaches the back of the truck.
Ignoring him, I retrieve all of the luggage and haul it up to the house. “Damn it, Justin, would you fucking talk to me,” he demands.
At the top of the porch steps, I set down the luggage and turn on him. “Why are you here?”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“To annoy the piss out of me. Try and steal my girl. Both.”
“I didn’t try to steal the last one. How was I supposed to know who she was? I’d never met her or seen a photo. Bitch played me.”
Brandi and I had been dating for about four months when my brother came into town. I had every intention of introducing them but never got the chance. I was called in to work the first night he arrived and he went to the local bar to drink, where Brandi worked as a bartender. She’d seen pictures of Asher and my other brothers but he had no idea who she was until she told him her name after he fucked her in the men’s room.
“If you didn’t fuck everything with a pulse it wouldn’t have happened.”
“And you might not have ever found out she was screwing half the goddamn town.”
True.
But still.
“You’re my brother, man, you know I’d never do that,” he says. “I think we should really look at the positive side of all of this.”
“And what’s that?”
“If not for my monumental fuck up and your ex being a slut, you would’ve never met Selena.”
I pound down the steps, poking my forefinger into his chest. “I’m telling you right now, if you go anywhere near her, I’ll fucking kill you, brother or not, you got it?”
He retreats, holding up his hands. “Whoa…you’re serious about this one.”
“Deadly.”
“I swear, Justin, I would never take what’s yours. You should know that by now.”
I did know that. I know he would never hurt me intentionally. He’s my brother. One of the most loyal men I know. Had he known Brandi and I were together, he would have never touched her. I’ll admit I was pissed when it happened, but now looking back, I shouldn’t have been. And it all seems so fucking stupid and irrelevant now that Selena has come into my life.
My brothers and I have always been close, especially Ash and me. Only because we’re close in age, other than that we have nothing in common. Well except our blood runs blue. But that’s a bond we all share. When we were younger, he followed me around everywhere. To look at him now you wouldn’t think he was bullied as a child. My brothers and I were constantly getting into fights because other kids picked on him in school. After a while, they finally left him alone.
He was the scrawniest of us all but he was also the smartest. Made straight A’s throughout school and he was even accepted into several Ivy League colleges but decided to go to community instead, majoring in criminal justice and joining the force.
“I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry, and I’m getting help.”
Confused, I tilt my head. “Help for what?”
“My sex addiction.”
Sex addiction?
“What kind of help?”
“I’m seeing a therapist.”
“Is it that serious?”
“Apparently so.” He runs a frustrated hand over his face. “Fuck, I don’t know. It’s gotten to the point where it has taken over my life. It’s not only affecting my judgment but my relationships and my job. I need to do something about it before it gets out of control.”
“Did something happen at work?” I ask.
“Not yet, but I could feel myself getting ready to cross the line. That’s why I took a little time off to come down here and clear my head. No one else knows but you, and I’d like to keep it that way. Mom would freak the fuck out. I’m embarrassed enough to admit it to you. But you’re the only person I feel like understands me, you always have.”
I’ve never seen my brother shaken up like this. Except maybe that one time when he was a junior in high school, something happened to him that year that changed him. He receded further into his shell and became a hermit. Mom and Dad had to force him out of the house sometimes. Maybe whatever he’s battling has to do with that. Something from his past that he never got over.
The shame in his eyes indicates this is something that’s been weighing heavily on him for a while now.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Right after high school. I’ve hidden it for years but I’m ready to deal with it, move past it, and live a normal life.”
“Damn, Ash.”
My brother looks almost sheepish as he shoves his hands into his pockets, shuffling on his feet.
“Hey listen, I won’t say a word. Your secret is safe with me. But I’m proud of you for facing this. Takes balls, man.”
“Thanks.”
I lean in and give him a hug. Two slaps on the back and typically I’d pull away, but this time, I hug him for a little bit longer. Because he needs it. And he’s my brother and I love the crazy motherfucker.
After dinner, Justin moves all of our stuff out to the cottage that Pop had so generously shared with me before we left for Iowa. A one-bedroom oasis nestled in the rear of the property, secluded from everything else. Wood fencing and beautiful crate myrtles that are now in full bloom. The wraparound porch is screened in, equipped with ceiling fans, patio furniture, and a swing that beckons anyone who dare walk past it with its soft looking cushions and floral throw pillows.
His grandmother had sewn all of the drapes, throw pillows, and quilts. Anything that required fabric, she made.
It’s so cozy and inviting. Walking in, I feel a sense of ease settle over me right away. It’s an odd yet comforting feeling.
“Well, what do you think?” Justin asks, curling an arm around my waist to pull me in close.
“It’s perfect.”
Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the bedroom. I gasp when I walk inside. The room is huge. A king-sized, four-poster bed dominates the space, draped in the softest looking duvet I’ve ever seen with a mountain of throw pillows.
“My grandmother had a thing for throw pillows.”
I smile. “I’ve noticed. Know what else I’ve noticed?”
“What?”
“You and Asher. When you spoke of your brothers before, I was under the impression that the two of you were close, yet you hardly spoke two words the entire time you were together.”
“You noticed that, huh?”
“I don’t miss much.”
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kisses my mouth. “I can see that.” Then my jaw. “Nothing you need to worry about.” His captivating blue eyes lock in on mine. “We’re good now.”
His shoulders do look more relaxed, and whatever heaviness had been forged in his eyes before wasn’t there now.
“Okay.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lift up and press my lips to his. “But I’m here for you. If you ever want to talk.”
“I promise, if it is worth discussing I will talk to you about it; otherwise, I’d like to keep as much bullshit out of our lives as possible.”
The vow is sealed with a tender kiss. “I need to make some calls and grab a few more things from the main house but when I get back, I want you naked, in that bed, waiting for me.”
I nod, wrapping my arms around his waist, loving the way I fit against his body. “I think I can handle that.”
Justin’s lips press against my forehead. “Be back soon.”
When Justin leaves, I open my luggage and begin putting my things away. While we were away at Teddy’s, Pop had the cottage cleaned and stocked with fresh towels, bed linens, as well as food in the pantry and refrigerator. There was even a beautiful flower arrangement in the kitchen. Once I have everything organized, I take a shower, afterward dressing in my nightgown and climbing into
bed.
I retrieve one of the notebooks from the side table where I have safely tucked them away. They are all dated, the first from the year I was born, so I open it up and begin to read.
March 17, 1998
I’ve been wanting to start journaling for a while now, but I never got around to it. However, I know if I don’t do this now, I never will. I surmise today is as good a day as any. The day God gave me one of the most precious gifts.
A child.
Selena Marie Allen was born at 7:03 am with a head full of jet-black hair and a healthy set of lungs.
I was in labor with her for twelve hours. The midwife said it was the most beautiful birth she’d ever experienced. I couldn’t agree more.
The labor got pretty intense there toward the end but once they placed her on my chest, and I watched her take her first breaths, I knew it was worth every single second of pain.
I would do it all over again, a million times over if I had to. How she came into my life could be the ugliest story ever told but she is the beautiful consequence. God has sent me an angel here on earth.
Sent to save me and deliver me from evil.
As I watch her sleeping peacefully in her crib, I know the devil is never far away. However, for this tiny moment, everything is right in the world.
Everything is perfect.
I slowly close the notebook and collect a couple of deep breaths. I can hear her voice echoing every word inside of my heart. Words I’ve longed to hear for what feels like forever. Words of love that only a parent can give a child.
I continue reading until a short time later, Justin returns, peeling his T-shirt off as he enters the room. My gaze travels down his torso, appreciating each hard line and edge that makes him the strong, handsome man that he is.
“Did you get everything done that you needed to?” I ask as he takes a seat next to me on the edge of the bed. Bracing his hands on both sides of my hips, he leans in to kiss me.
“All done.” Tugging the covers down, he raises a brow at my nightgown. “You were supposed to be naked when I got back.”
My cheeks heat. “I got cold.”
Honestly, my modesty would not allow it. My inhibitions only seem to fade when I’m trapped in his heated gaze. For instance, the way he’s looking at me right now gives me the courage to set the notebook aside, cross my arms in front of me and reach for the hem of my nightgown, pulling it up over my head.
His eyes flicker with need. “I don’t know what I did to get so goddamn lucky but I hope like hell my luck never runs out.”
I maneuver myself onto his lap, straddling him. Wrapping his arms around my back, he holds me against his body, my nipples tightening at the skin to skin contact. His lips claim mine, slow and tentative at first but then the kiss transforms into something more primal.
Possessive.
My heart pounds in my chest, my bravery at an all-time high.
Sliding off of his lap, I position myself on my knees at his feet between his parted legs, face hovering just above his bulging jeans. “I want you to teach me, Justin.”
His hooded eyes lock tight on mine.
“Teach me how to pleasure you.”
The palms of his hands move to cradle my face as he leans down to kiss me again, his tongue swirling with mine, our need adding to the mountain of trust between us. My hands move to the button of his jeans and the sound of the zipper opening fills the room. I expected to be more nervous but I’m not. I’ve fantasized about this moment, wondering what it would be like to taste him. To please him the same way he does me.
Justin stands up and pushes down his jeans, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Lifting up on my knees, I wrap my hand around him and stroke up and down. Hard steel wrapped in silky smooth skin.
“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
I keep my gaze locked on his, awaiting his instruction, my blood humming with anticipation. His fingers move to my mouth, a thumb grazing my bottom lip. I kiss the rough pad.
His erection grows harder in my hand.
“Open.”
The order is a rumble from his chest but I feel it all the way down to my bones, settling deep inside of my womb. A scorching need that burns endlessly between us.
Widening my mouth, his thumb falls away and I replace it with the head of his cock, wrapping my lips around the head and swirling my tongue. His manly scent invades all of my senses, triggering my internal instincts.
“Deeper.”
I comply; taking him in as far as he will go.
“Yes, just like that. Christ, this mouth is perfect. So hot and hungry.”
His encouraging words spur me on and so does the hand that moves to the side of my neck, fingers curling into the strands of my hair to hold me in place. I renew my efforts, sucking him deeper with every stroke of my hand and pass of my lips.
“I’m going to come in your mouth, Selena.”
I nod and his head falls back, a sharp breath leaving his parted lips. His fingers curl tighter. His body tensed for release. A guttural growl escapes as hot semen hits the back of my throat, his cock throbbing and pulsing in my mouth. I swallow, eager for every drop he gives me.
When he’s finished, he leans down and kisses me, plundering my mouth with his seeking tongue.
Lifting me up from the floor, he lays me down on the bed and settles between my open legs, his face hovering inches from my aching core.
Then his mouth covers me, licking and sucking as I squirm on the bed. He pins my legs down, holding me in place as his tongue worships every inch of my wet flesh as if he owns it. As if it’s his to take.
Possessing me like only he can.
My body tenses, the impending release building in intensity with each swipe of his tongue. But then that tongue dips lower, reaching a forbidden part of me as he stretches my walls with two of his fingers.
His name is nothing more than a plea from my lips as I fall apart, succumbing to the enormous pleasure he delivers. My body trembles, the orgasm tingling in my limbs from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my curling toes.
Placing a kiss on my inner thigh, Justin moves up my body, his mouth covering mine as he buries himself to the hilt. His kisses are just as urgent as his strokes.
“Do you have any idea how good it feels to know that you’re all mine. That I’m the only one who has ever had you. All of you. The only one who has ever been inside that sweet mouth and this tight pussy.”
My hands move between us, running my palms over his scruffy face. “And you’re the only one who has ever owned my heart,” I whisper softly.
His darkened eyes hold mine, the intensity of the moment so monumental and intimate that it takes my breath away. Justin’s forehead falls to mine as he increases his pace, conveying with his body what I already know.
That I own his heart, too.
* * *
I stayed up late reading last night but I still manage to awaken before Justin the next morning, wrapping the afghan at the foot of the bed around my shoulders before leaving the room to walk out on the front porch just in time to catch the sunrise.
It’s breathtaking.
The golds and pinks cast their ethereal light across the southern sky. It almost looks like some of the sunrises in Mexico. Morning was the only reprieve I usually had from the hate that filled my world.
I feel him the moment he steps in behind me, bringing the same amount of heat to my back that is being radiated at my front.
“I don’t like waking up without you next to me.”
Strong arms cinch around my waist. “I wanted to see the sunrise.”
He rests his chin on my shoulder as I lean back into his embrace. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
His lips meet my cheek.
“My mother loved sunrises. She always used to say every sunset gives us one less day to live but every sunrise gives us one more day to hope.”
“She was a wise woman. Just like her beautiful daughter.”
&nb
sp; We stand in silence for a while; enjoying the beauty God has granted us.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” Justin says, leading me back into the house.
“What are you up to?”
“You’ll see.” He leads me toward the kitchen. We walk out the back door where the patio has been enclosed with windows and the walls of the house are lined with shelves. There’s a turntable in the center of the room with a stool and an abundance of clay and other pottery making tools, including a decent sized worktable and an electric kiln.
“Oh my God, Justin, what—how?”
“I had Pop take care of it all while we were gone. I want this to be your own special place. A place to create and be yourself.”
My hand rests on my chest, my heart so full it feels like it could burst open at any moment. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
Throwing my arms around his neck, I bury my head against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around my waist as he lifts me off of my feet, catching my mouth with his as I lift my head. His kiss is gentle and reverent, filling my heart beyond capacity.
The soft clay glides beneath my wet fingers as I pump the pedal of the turntable, molding the grooves of what I hope will be a success this time. I’ve destroyed six bowls already. I thought it would come right back to me but I can see it will take a lot more practice.
As another bowl falls victim to my clumsy hands, I let go of a frustrated sigh and set the horrendous thing aside before grabbing some more clay nearby. Tugging and forming it until it’s the shape I like. Once I’m satisfied, I place it on the wheel, reaching for my tiny sponge to add cold water.
I remember the words my mother always used to tell me.
It’s not about what you’re creating but the person you become when you are creating. When you are bringing art to life, life stirs inside of you. Changes you. Molds you into a different shape. Another form. A rebirth. That is what creating means to me, and for the first time since I lost my mother, I feel like I can take a full breath. My broken soul doesn’t feel quite so broken as her spirit moves through me, guiding me.
Finally, I find myself growing more relaxed, confident, and before I even realize it, I have created something beautiful and exactly what I was wanting. I finish up and turn off the wheel, pleased with myself.
