Never Let You Go (Never #2)

by Monica Murphy

  “I love it, that you did this. For me. For us.” I trace the tattoo again, drift my fingers along his rib cage. Exploring. I was always too shy to closely examine his body at first. And once I got over that, I became too shy to say the words that always seem to clog my throat when we’re together like this.

  It’s overwhelming, what I want to say to him. What I want to do to him. But I’m working up my courage, slowly but surely.

  Without another word, I touch the tattoo again, tracing the wings, the letters, my fingers sliding down over his firm belly, the indent of his navel, the dark hair that’s just beneath. I draw my index finger along that soft trail until I reach his jeans, curling my fingers around the denim and slipping them inside, my knuckles brushing nothing but warm flesh.

  He sucks in a breath and I glance up to catch him closing his eyes, his expression one of pure, unadulterated torture. And pleasure. So much pleasure. He took off his glasses earlier when we started cleaning the kitchen and I stare at his handsome face, seeing his younger features, the ones that remind me so much of my Will from before, the boy who saved me. There’s a tiny hole just beneath his lower lip and I reach up, touching it, knowing exactly what it’s from.

  His eyes open and he knows what I’m touching, too. “You remember the lip ring?” he asks quietly.

  I nod, never taking my hands off his face, moving my fingers up so I can trace his eyebrow. There had been a ring there, too. Funny, how we’ve never talked about this until now. “What happened to them?”

  “Got rid of them when I changed my name.”

  “And your hair?” It had been black as night when I first met him. An unnatural color that made him appear totally emo, like some of the kids Brenna had in her class back then. He’d scared me the first time I saw him. All the black, the piercings, though, it was all a façade.

  A mask.

  “I dyed it for years. Finally shaved it all off and started over.”

  “You shaved your head?” All that pretty hair, gone. He has the best hair. Thick and soft, I love to run my fingers through it.

  “I wanted a complete change.” He smiles, a teasing light in his gaze. “You want me to repierce my lip? Or maybe my eyebrow?”

  Shaking my head, I reach for the silver button and undo it, tugging harder so that the entire button fly comes undone before I spread the denim wide only to discover . . .

  Will’s not wearing any underwear.

  His smile grows at the precise moment I suck in a harsh breath at my discovery.

  “Found out my little secret,” he murmurs, his eyes sparkling.

  His little secret makes me feel shy. A little unsure. I still feel somewhat anxious when it comes to sex. Sheila warned me I’d continue to feel that way for a while and here I am, panicking over discovering that he’s naked beneath those jeans. Any other girl would be thrilled. Any other girl would take her opportunity and touch him. Get down on her knees for him and draw him into her mouth, reward him for his pleasant surprise.

  But not me. I can’t. I’m still too self-conscious. I’ve never given him a blow job. I wouldn’t know how to do it. I’m not ready to give him one, either, too self-conscious that I might mess it up or worse, that I might freak out. Not that he’s asked for one. I just think he’s so glad that we’re together, he’ll take what he can get from me.

  That sounds horrible. Like he’s settling. Is he? I hope not. I know I’m not. He’s all I know.

  He’s all I want to know.

  “I was in a hurry after I took a shower,” he murmurs, catching my chin with his fingers and tilting my head up so I have to look at him. He looks amused, even a little sheepish. “In such a hurry, I forgot to grab underwear when I picked out my clothes for tonight earlier this afternoon. So I just got dressed and left the house.”

  Aw, he picked out clothes to wear special for meeting my mom and sister. That’s so adorable. I know he was worried about tonight, maybe more worried than I was, though he never acted like it. I envied his calm, cool demeanor.

  He’s being pretty cool and calm right now, considering I have my hand down his jeans, fingers brushing awfully close to his private parts.

  “This would be the moment when most women would tear your jeans off and grab hold of you like they never want to let you go,” I suggest, feeling immediately stupid for even saying it.

  He winces. “If you’re referring to my cock, then I don’t know if I want a woman grabbing hold of it like she’s never going to let go.”

  I’m blushing so furiously my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. I can’t believe he just said the word cock so casually. I’m even more surprised that I kind of liked hearing him say it. “That does sound a little too fierce,” I concede softly.

  “Yeah.” He leans in and kisses me, lifting away to murmur, “It does. And you’re not most women. You’re my woman. That’s all that matters.”

  My heart flutters at his words, at the intense look in his eyes, and I melt. Giving me one more lingering kiss, he reaches for me, his hands sneaking under my sweater, and then he’s removing it as well as my bra. I cover my chest when he kneels down and slides my jeans down my legs, his mouth following the same path, and then I forget all modesty, grabbing hold of his shoulders to keep myself from falling. I whimper low in my throat when he presses his mouth against the front of my pink panties.

  “So sweet,” he murmurs there, making me shudder. I clutch his shoulders harder for fear my legs will give out and I’ll collapse on the floor.

  He slowly rises to his feet, his mouth blazing a trail of damp heat along my skin before he’s finally standing above me. He sheds his jeans, his movements almost awkward in his rush to get naked, and I love seeing his excitement, that he doesn’t care how he looks in front of me. He just wants me.

  I lie back onto the mattress and he’s standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked, hard and ready, just for me. I open my arms to him and he falls atop me, his mouth on mine, his hot body pressing me deeper into the mattress. I’m blanketed by his body, his hot skin making me feel like I’m burning up from the inside.

  And then he grabs a condom and he’s actually inside of me, our bodies connected. I arch up against him, needing him closer, and when I open my eyes I find that he’s watching me. He runs his fingers through my hair, his hips shifting slowly as he lies atop me, and I slide my legs along his, wrapping them around his hips and sending him even deeper. We both groan and he leans in, pressing his forehead against mine, his features strained.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  I close my eyes against the sudden sting of tears.

  “Thank you for allowing me into your life,” he murmurs. “I appreciate you letting me meet your family tonight.”

  His words crack my already sensitive, barely held-together heart. I don’t want to talk. Instead I loop my arms around his neck and pull him into me for a kiss, but he breaks away after the first one.

  “I mean it, Katie. I love you. I’ve never had a real family. I’ve always been alone, taking care of myself. To the point where I truly believed I didn’t need anyone else. Definitely not a woman.” His voice breaks, and I close my eyes against the onslaught of emotions swarming inside of me. “With you, I don’t ever feel alone. With you . . . I feel whole.”

  “That’s because you’re not alone, not when you’re with me,” I whisper, opening my eyes to see him smile in response.

  “I don’t ever want to lose you. I’ve lived without you for too long. I won’t let anything get between us. Nothing.” The kiss he presses to my lips is almost brutal. Ferocious. As if he’s trying to prove a point. And he is. “You belong with me. We belong together.”

  I don’t disagree because I can’t. Fate pushed us together. To lose each other again would only tempt fate to tear us apart.

  And I don’t want to tempt fate.

  A cold nose nudges against my arm, followed by low, incessant whining, and at first I think I’m dreaming. Of a dog tugging o
n my arm, trying to pull me somewhere, but the both of us getting frustrated because I can’t figure out what she wants.

  I crack open my eyes to find Molly’s face in mine and she licks my hand. Immediately I pull it under the covers, but she doesn’t appear offended. No, she pants, practically smiling at me, her warm dog breath blowing across my face and making me grimace. I blow out a harsh breath, closing my eyes, wishing she’d go away.

  She nudges my arm again. Then licks it, offering up a soft “ruff” to encourage my lazy ass to get out of bed. I’m not getting out of this.

  “All right, all right,” I mutter, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake up Katie. She’s nestled up close to me, warm and naked and too damn delicious to leave in this bed by herself, but I have to. I pull away from her slowly, careful not to disturb her. She murmurs something unintelligible and rolls over on her side, facing me, and I pause, watching her, waiting for her to wake up.

  But she doesn’t.

  I slip out of bed and grab the pair of sweats I left on the chair in her room the last time I was here. Pulling them on and the T-shirt I wore earlier, I snap my fingers at Molly and she falls into step behind me, the two of us walking slowly. I lead her down the hall and through the kitchen to the door that opens to the backyard.

  Molly practically flies out the door the second it swings open, sniffing around the perimeter of the backyard, pausing in spots like she’s discovered something extra good, her nose buried in the grass or a bush, only for her to trot off until she finds the next spot worthy of a good sniff.

  I stand on the back porch, shivering in the cold night air as I watch her. I forgot to check my phone, so I have no idea what time it is. Molly stops and pees here and there and I wait for her, knowing this is her ritual, though usually I get it handled before I go to bed. She’ll come up to the porch when she’s done and sit by my feet; she always does. It’s just that some pee sessions take a little longer than others.

  My thoughts drift, my mind still hazy from sleep and sex. Earlier with Katie had been especially good. Every time we have sex I feel closer to her. I’ve paid attention, learning her body’s cues, what she prefers, where she likes to be touched. Kissed. Sucked.

  Breathing deep, I scrub my arms with my hands to create some heat considering it’s so damn cold I feel like my balls are gonna freeze off. But instead of focusing on my cold balls, I think about my girl and what gets her off. Yeah, Katie likes soft, slow kisses with lots of tongue. Gentle touches that make her shiver and shake. She especially likes it when I suck her nipples, and when I go down on her? I don’t think she wants to like it, but she does.

  I wouldn’t mind going back inside and waking her up with my mouth all over her body. Stroking her between her legs, kissing her neck and her breasts, driving her wild before she’s even fully awake . . .

  A loud snapping sound comes from somewhere deep in the woods beyond the house, and I lift my head at the same moment Molly goes completely still. She tilts her head back, nose in the air, her nostrils quivering as she sniffs again and again. And that’s when she goes bat-shit crazy.

  The low, scary growl she emits is immediately followed by an outburst of constant, ferocious barking, unlike anything I’ve heard come out of her before. She runs back and forth along the back fence, like she wants to jump over it and take off running into the dark, dense woods. I’m damn thankful she can’t. I’d probably never be able to coax her back inside.

  I try to get her to quiet down from where I stand on the porch, but she’s too wound up now. Panting and whining in between all the barking, so loud she’s probably going to wake the entire neighborhood. Reluctantly I run down into the yard, yelping when my bare feet hit the cold, wet grass. Molly’s still barking uncontrollably and I grab hold of her collar, offering her a stern no.

  She quiets down, her butt hitting the ground and her tail thumping wildly, flicking up moisture from the grass, and it lands on my sweats. She’s still whining; her entire body is tense. Poised to run. Letting go of her collar, I go to the fence and carefully step onto the ledge, hoping like hell I don’t get splinters in the bottom of my feet. Molly’s just behind me, pacing back and forth, the low whine continuous. I peer over the edge of the wood, staring into the dark forest, but I can’t see a damn thing. The moon’s not even a quarter full, so the night sky is dark. Black.

  Ominous.

  Molly finally settles down—somewhat—sitting directly behind me, whining and fidgety, but I ignore her. Something flickers in the trees—was that a flashlight? I squint into the darkness, mentally willing that flickering to happen again when Molly gives a happy bark and dashes off toward the house.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn to see Katie standing on the back porch, sleepy and disheveled and so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her. She turned the porch light on, so she’s cast in a golden glow that makes her blond hair shine. She has a quilt from the foot of her bed wrapped around her and I’d bet money she has nothing on underneath it.

  Shit.

  Glancing back at the woods one more time, I see nothing. No flickering of light, no movement, not a sound, not even a whisper that something was out there. Molly’s totally over it; instead she’s happy to see Katie’s joined us for our too-early morning adventures, and I hop off the fence, quickly dashing back to the porch so I can join them.

  “Molly had to go outside,” I explain when I stop just in front of her.

  Katie nods, her eyes barely open. She looks tired and sort of out of it. “Let’s go back to bed,” she whispers.

  I check over my shoulder one more time, but no one’s out there. I’m freaking out over nothing. It was probably a small animal that stepped on a branch. Molly caught scent of it and went crazy. I can’t blame her.

  “Okay,” I murmur, slipping my arm around Katie and leading her back to the door, Molly right at our heels. I firmly turn the deadbolt into place and we all go back to bed, Molly sleeping on the floor while I proceed to make love to Katie one more time, quick and easy and satisfying, before she falls asleep in my arms. Yet I stay awake.

  Plagued by the ominous feeling that never really leaves me for the rest of the night.

  Will becomes consumed with a design project for a solid week straight, so consumed I rarely see him and when I do, he’s usually distracted, bringing his laptop with him to my house and working on it long into the night.

  “Deadline,” he always mutters when he comes up for air—and coffee. Then he offers me that sweet, apologetic smile of his, the one I can’t resist, and kisses me deeply, making me lose my head like usual. “I’ll make it up to you when I’m done. I swear.” His voice is always full of promise.

  I take him at his word. He’s already made it up to me in the middle of the night, when I awoke to his urgent hands pulling me toward him, his seeking lips finding mine. He makes love to me with a single-minded focus that steals my breath every single time. Until I’m a breathless mess afterward, unable to think or speak or move. I just lie there with my heart thundering and a spinning head, my limbs weak, my skin still tingling when he pulls away, a satisfied smile curling his perfect lips.

  I’ve never seen him so distracted before, but do I really know him? No. I’m learning, though. I see that the job I thought was so easygoing is really filled with moments that are intense and can drag on for days, consuming him. I try my best not to disturb him while he’s like this, staying out of his way as best I can. Instead I concentrate fully on my schoolwork since we’re getting closer to the end of the semester. I have a paper to write, a project to work on. The semester is over mid-December and I can’t wait.

  I’m also contemplating taking the spring semester off. Mom will flip and tell me I’m making a huge mistake, but I need a break. I just want to live. To breathe. To be. I even want to try and get a job. Nothing major, something simple and part-time. I still have money saved from my father’s death and though it feels weird to spend it on everyday stuff, I’d like to think he wou
ldn’t mind. He’d rather see me happy and being normal, wouldn’t he? Versus never touching the money and never really living?

  That’s what I tell myself at least.

  Work-wise, I’d consider just about anything. Retail. An office. I can type reasonably fast and can write a letter or put together a spreadsheet. And I can answer a phone. I’ll work at a fast-food place if I have to, slinging fries and getting zits from the grease I deal with all day. I just feel the need to be out among people and actually doing something.

  And that’s all thanks to Will. He’s given me confidence, made me realize that living all by myself, holed up in my house alone every day, is not the way to live. Not that he was any better since he did the same exact thing. I like to think we brought each other out of our respective shells.

  With him so consumed with work lately, I’m glad he insisted Molly should stay with me on a more permanent basis. She’s excellent company. I take her out for a walk first thing in the morning and those last fifteen or twenty minutes before the sun goes down, just wandering around the neighborhood and saying hi to the people who live near me. I’ve gotten to know a few a little better by simply chatting them up and being friendly.

  But as we get closer to winter, the night comes even faster, causing me to bump my walks earlier and earlier. Mrs. Anderson likes to accompany me during my walk with Molly if she spots me in time, which she usually does.

  Wouldn’t doubt for a moment that she sits and waits by her front window, leaping to her feet when she sees Molly and me go past her house. The old woman moves surprisingly fast for her age. We talk about life, about her late husband, and she allows me to ramble on about Will without making me feel like I talk too much. She encourages the conversation, telling me that since romance has left her life, she has to live through my stories. She claims it gives her butterflies when I tell her something extra sweet that Will did for me.

  I have no idea if she’s putting me on or not. I like to think she’s not.