Love Hurts

by J. J. Keller

  “You’re fine. I’ll take your Jeep tomorrow and fill it with gas. You’ll have a full tank to go back on Wednesday.” Morgan joined her at the open door and held her in a loose hug.

  She met his stare. “I’m glad you didn’t sell your house. I think it’s lovely.”

  “I agree. Selling the cottage and marrying Patty would have been a mistake.” He wove his fingers through her short locks. “Why did you cut your hair so short? You look like Tinker Bell.”

  She tried to pull away. He held tight. “I hadn’t heard from you in two months and assumed our friendship was at an end. I needed to start fresh. A new look, a new attitude, and new goals.”

  Morgan kissed her, much like he had this morning when they awoke. Passionate. Hot. And totally immersing her into a tightly strung tethered web of lust. He broke the connection and trailed his lips to her ear. “I’m sorry, let me explain.”

  His voice held a hint of regret woven through it. She wanted to hear his explanation, although his kiss sent tingles into her stomach. The space between her thighs ached with desire. Her hips gravitated toward him, despite her mind reminding her sex equaled pain. He kissed the side of her cheek.

  Shania put distance between them. After a pause, she pivoted to gently close the French door. “Please do.”

  “At the church, you told me you loved me.” He paused. “Do you love me, Shania?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. What was he leading up too? Did he love her and was ready to announce it? “Yes, I’ll love you forever, Morgan.”

  He jerked, but his face lit with a wave of elation. “That day, I told Patty I wasn’t marrying her. I think I accepted her proposal because I wanted something. Something I didn’t believe I’d ever be able to have and to hold. Something I might have a chance of obtaining now.” He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on the sides of her face. His lips touching hers, soft and searching, made her want to weep with happiness.

  She moaned and settled her hands on his muscular broad shoulders. Well-built biceps pushed tight against his cotton shirt. Her fingers moved to his narrow waist, then rested on his perfectly shaped firm rear. A bum she’d admired on many occasions.

  “Why did you take so long to find us?” she dogged. She needed to know why he delayed talking to them, seeing them, wanting them. From his words, he didn’t truly care for Patty, did he? What did he mean, “obtaining now”? Could that illusive need be love? Was his proposal for real?

  He grimaced. “I couldn’t come to you until I had Patty taken care of, the mess resolved. I was working three jobs. If I called you, talked to you, the moment I heard your voice I’d have dropped my obligations and flown to be by your side. Unencumbered or not. Each of those days we were apart I thought of nothing but you and Justin. I’d fall into bed each night with your image in my mind. I wanted you--want you--so much, I knew I couldn’t see or talk to you unless we could be together,” he confessed. “I hope you still want me, because I need you in my life.”

  Oh God, his words were sweet. “Morgan.” Her breath caught.

  Morgan would always remain true to his character. Honest, loyal and straightforward. She took his hand into hers and pulled him down the hallway to his bedroom. The fear of pain during intercourse made her stomach muscles jump, as if overworked with crunches. She didn’t know why he needed to work two or three jobs, but his voice was filled with love. Everything bad disappeared. His kisses made her clit ache and her breasts feel heavy. His touch sent her nerve endings into a tailspin. You can do this, she told herself.

  He slid his arm around her waist. She turned into him, bumping their bodies together. Her nipples peaked. His mouth lowered to her ear. “You smell fantastic. Flowers and spice.”

  “And you smell like Morgan.” She’d kept one of his white t-shirts. At a painfully lonely time she’d pull the cloth from her bottom drawer and smell it. The real scent was so much better. She put the fear of pain aside and focused on how his touches made her skin come alive. He was the man she’d fallen in love with. Inside his bedroom, he shut the door. She shucked her shoes and socks and unfastened her wool slacks. A quick flick of her fingers and the buttons on her blouse fell out of the holes. She reached for the bottom pearl disc on her top. He held her hand.

  “Slow down. I’m pleased you want to be with me, but let’s enjoy our first time at making love.” He lowered her shaking fingers from the button. The sides of the blue and green polka-dot blouse flopped open. “I like the lacey green bra.”

  His fingers dragged along her stomach, igniting an internal fire.

  “I’m nervous―I don’t have a lot of experience.” She wished her voice would have rushed from her throat come-sexy instead of tease-weak.

  “All the more reason for us to ease into this instead of rushing.” He trailed his fingers down her front, touching the crest of one of her breasts then farther down, making her muscles contract with the light caress. “I want you to remember our first time, one of a million times we’ll make love, as the best you’ve ever experienced.”

  The best, she thought, not that difficult, considering her previous two sexual encounters were excruciatingly painful and marked as hurried. Although sex-talk skills, she had in abundance. “Me too.” She touched her lips to his, a light caress.

  “Touch me,” he whispered.

  She lifted the edge of his sweater, stroking her fingers along his smooth hard planes. Sudden desire to taste him, all of him, overwhelmed her. A quick jerk and the material went over his head. He lifted his arms, struggling to get out of the garment. He sucked in his breath when her lips met his skin. Power as she’d never experienced before rushed through her. She’d never been the one to initiate or control the foreplay. Then her insecurities came to the forefront. Was she doing everything correctly?

  Her hand lowered to his jeans and sang, “Your cock is so large, I want to touch, touch, touch it.”

  She unfastened his belt and unzipped, touching the head of his penis through his underwear.

  “Shh. You don’t have to say things like that to me. It’s just us. Be yourself.” His hands shot to her waist, to hold her back or pull her forward she didn’t know. Even embarrassed about his comment, she knew one thing--she wanted to touch and feel every inch of his well-formed body. A smile spread across her face, he wanted to be with her just as she was. His breathing became labored. Slow and easy, her fingers reached inside the waistband and lowered the pants over his hips. Her mouth touched his nipple as she bent her head to see what existed under the rough material. A deep, pain-filled groan came from his lips.

  She glanced at his face. No pain flashed across his face. Her mouth on his skin brought a moan from him, a pleasurable noise. Joy rushed through her, exciting her more than his kisses ever could. Placing her palms against his waist, she slid her anxious fingers under the band of his tight cotton boxers and eased off the only barrier between her hand and his massive organ. His bare chest and taut stomach begged to be savored. As he bent to remove the underwear, her face leveled with his cock. Her lips circled an inch below his belly button and then slipped onto the head, learning the curves and valleys.

  Christ, his tool was enormous, massive compared to Beck’s. Could she handle twice as much penis stretching her in half? She stopped her explorations and stood upright. Morgan stared at her, not questioning, not judging, and simply being the kind person he was. Rough, callused palms cupped her face and he kissed her. Heated passion rocked her. She opened her lips to accept him. His tongue entered her mouth, nudging hers.

  She flicked her tongue between his teeth, flowing over and under his. She nuzzled his lips, outlining their shape. Breaking the contact, she finger-combed his hair, then rested her hands on his hips. He slipped the blouse from her shoulders. The soft cotton fell down to her wrists. A jerk and one sleeve slithered to the side. His fingers unclasped her bra. A second later it disappeared. The blouse quickly followed. Her breasts chilled. Whimpers came from her throat. She needed to fe
el his skin and to be touched by him.

  “Shh, relax. I promised to take care of you. Let me.” He lifted her into his arms.

  As she longed to do for the past several hours, she placed her fingers on his chest, caressing the tight muscles, stroking up to his neck. A tug and he drew closer to her.

  He gave her a smile and an intense powerful stare held as he laid her on the soft comforter. She placed her hands on her nipples, covering them and providing warmth.

  Naked, he climbed on the bed. “You’re beautiful.”

  An urgent need rippled through her, she wanted more.

  “I think we should have an equal playing field, don’t you?” he whispered.

  She didn’t understand what exactly was happening to her insides, but her fast-paced heartbeat created breathlessness. He nodded to her waist. She lifted off the mattress. His nimble fingers released the latch on her wool slacks, the unzipping adding cadence to their puffs of air. His hand slid through the small opening and touched her backside. In a flash her pants were down around her ankles, and in a whoosh the garment left her body. Every square inch of her skin was caressed as he slowly made his way back to her stomach.

  His fingers plucked at one of the tiny bows holding her green underpants together. The ribbon separated and the cloth fell to the side. She rolled, slow, trying to utilize every upper body muscle. He painstakingly unknotted the other tie. Fancy undergarments were her weakness. The panties freed, he removed the material. Nothing existed between them except air and time.

  Her skin heated as his tongue wrapped around first one nipple then the other. Tiny fires ignited everywhere. His fingers stroked. Gentle caressing. She oscillated and moaned. The intense pressure became unbearable. How could her body crave to ease the ache between her thighs, knowing the pain was coming? But she did want him. Fear was shoved to the back of her mind. Desire and need took over. She became a free spirit wanting his massive cock to enter her.

  She touched his face, wanting to convey her thoughts. He stared at her. Her lips latched onto his mouth. Hot. Those tiny fires merged, heating her limbs to inferno levels. Her hips pressed against his. He broke the kiss then trailed his lips down her side. He spread her thighs and inserted a finger or more into her vagina. His mouth touched her inner thigh skin, kissing his way to her clit. Skyrocketing off the bed, she gasped. He held her hips. Caressing her soft skin, he murmured calming words, creating a new desire.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered and lowered her hips to the bed.

  “Making love to you. You’ve never been eat…er…touched in this way?” He held her thighs, refocused his attention and continued to kiss her inner thigh, blowing on her private area.

  “No,” she gasped.

  “Relax. If you don’t like what happens, I’ll stop.” His tongue flicked.

  She moaned and pressed against the bed. Her arms lifted, trying to clutch a grounding point, a center of gravity. At a loss, she grabbed the dark blue comforter instead. His strong firm legs rubbed against hers. A mad rush heated her, exploding into a vortex of white fire. Sucked into the tri-fold assault of mind, body and spirit, her senses overwhelmed her. She rocked, digging her heels into the mattress.

  “Please help me,” she stammered.

  He wiped his mouth with the sheet and settled on top of her. Lips nibbled on her neck as his cock found her swollen throbbing entrance. She vibrated with the longing for fulfillment.

  His fingers entwined with hers as he kissed her. He slid inside. She expanded. No pain. The urge to move remained strong. She stirred. He moaned, lowering his other hand beside her left shoulder.

  He thrust, dipping deep into her sex. She gripped his rear and met his driving force. Their bodies became sweaty as their skin slapped in the ebb and flow of their bump and grind. Her breath became ragged, getting near the end, hoping to find that need to release. Would she die?

  She’d never experienced this thrill, this desire to hold a man inside her. She clamped her muscles tight. He hissed, and then groaned. They merged, and like the colors on a palette, blended to create a beautiful loving sexual union.

  His seed heated her core as their ragged breathing slowed to normal. She wanted to scream in ecstasy and in horror.

  They’d failed to use a condom. Damn, she knew from her mother’s lectures, reading material at the free clinic, and her own experience. There was no doubt it took only one time of unprotected sex to create a life.

  A fear of the truth squirmed in the back of her mind. She wanted to get pregnant and that’s why she hadn’t mentioned a condom. There had been plenty of opportunity to slide one on. She knew his character. Morgan would ask her to marry him--for real. He’d want to tie the knot the minute he found out she was with child, but would she feel good about the reason for the marriage?

  No. If she were lucky she wouldn’t get pregnant. Tomorrow, she’d go to the bank and cash out the CD. She’d pick up some condoms and always, always use them.

  Morgan pulled out. Holding the weight of his body off hers, he kissed her and then dropped to her side. “Shania, I want--”

  The landline telephone rang. Simultaneously, his watch alarm chimed.

  “Damn, I forgot.” He snatched the phone off the deck and sat on the side of the bed. “Yeah. Sorry, lost track of time. I’ll be there in twenty.”

  He placed the unit on the table and gazed at her. A sheet partially covered his lap. He looked …happy. His smile created new warmth in her, a glow from deep within. She did that, put that look of elation on his face.

  “I have to go to work. I promised or I wouldn’t leave. I’ll return around nine or ten.” His voice held an exuberant joyful rhythm.

  “I understand. Justin’s probably awake. I’ll go get him.” She slid off the bed, afraid to glance at the sheets. Had blood stained his blue linens?

  “I’ll shower.” He hugged her and walked into the bathroom.

  When water splashed in the bath, she leaned across the bed and shoved the cotton aside. Nothing. No spots. No blood. She twisted her leg to look deep on the thigh. Semen. No pink or red substance. What did that mean?

  Shania slipped on Morgan’s polo and went into the guest bath. Finding a washcloth under the cabinet, she cleaned off and then wrapped a towel around herself, knotting it at her breasts. She went into the master bedroom and laid his shirt across the arm of a hard ladder-back chair. The splashing of water continued. She pulled on her jeans and top. As she buttoned, she considered what the lack of tinted residue meant. Her hand on the doorknob, she stilled and glanced toward the bathroom. Realization came to her, true love paved the way for a painless and blood-free lovemaking session.

  Chapter 13

  “I’d like to get a payout for a CD that matures today, under the name Shania Anne Miller.” Shania tugged Justin’s hand, hoping he’d realize kicking the bank teller’s wall to make his shoes light up was a bad thing.

  “I need to see your driver’s license and another form of ID.” The gray-haired woman fitted her black rimmed glasses higher on her nose, causing the frame holder chain to jingle. She glanced at Justin and smiled. Apparently she didn’t feel the vibrations as his toe connected with the fabric-encased ply-board.

  Shania dug out her state license and Briarwood University ID, and slid them across the smooth surface. She needed cash. Justin needed a winter coat. Morgan had purchased shoes for Justin, but she wanted to get him a pair of snow boots. Above all, she’d planned to monitor her money better this quarter.

  The bank teller evaluated the identifications with precision. Shania held her breath. Although she was from Cyan and had been a member of this particular branch for the past ten years, she didn’t recognize the cashier.

  The cash would be used for meals, food, books, tuition and travel back to Briarwood. She touched her short hair. Could she look that different from a year ago when the photos were taken?

  “Just a moment, Miss Miller.” She wrinkled her nose and slid off her stool, then sashayed to a desk n
ear the back wall.

  Relieved, Shania wrapped her arm around Justin’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Stop hitting your shoe against the wall. It’s not nice to kick other people’s property. When we’re done here, I’ll take you to the park. You can knock around a ball or jump on the pavement. Please don’t kick anything else.”

  “Here you go, Miss Miller.” The teller was back with a handful of cash and a few pieces of paper. “Let me count it out and then you can sign your name and be on your way.” She winked. “It looks like the little guy is anxious to be out in this sun. Snow is expected later today.”

  The amount was correct. Shania signed her name. “I’d like to deposit half of this into my checking account please.” She counted half the cash. “Yes, Justin likes to play in the snow. How much is expected?”

  “Just a sprinkle, not enough to build a fort.” The teller smiled.

  The clerk wrote out a deposit slip. Shania signed the piece of paper and shoved the original and the currency to the woman. She confirmed the amount. Shania stuffed the other half into her wallet. The money deposited, she pushed her printed copy of the receipts into her purse and turned to leave.

  She glanced back. “Thank you.”

  And bumped into a solid wall of flesh. Shania bounced back, almost tripping over Justin. He slid to the side. A hand snatched her arm, preventing her from toppling over. Upright and steady, she glanced at her rescuer. Beck held her in his thin-fingered grasp. Too Many stood at his side.

  “Beck,” she mumbled. He hadn’t released her arm. She shook his fingers loose and stepped away. “Hello, Too Many.”

  Tom, or Too Many, had football player shoulders and bright blond hair. His shirt sleeves always fit snug against his upper arms, making him appear to be dressed in too small clothing. In contrast to Beck’s frown, Too Many had a smile and a glint in his eyes as if barely restraining laughter.

  Justin took her hand into his.

  “Shania,” Beck replied and glanced at Justin.