by Kahlen Aymes
“Oh, God! Wha… what am I… g… onna do?” I cried brokenly into the darkness, uncaring of whether the water or makeup would seep into the rug or if the beautiful designer dress was now completely ruined from the storm raging outside. I felt embarrassed by Jane’s confrontation. I’d been so sure of Ryan and of us. I wanted to rewind the world two months; to scream, to pull my hair out… to die.
I curled into myself, praying for the pain to end. I couldn’t die, but I could scream, and I did—as loud and long as I could. The sound split the air, high-pitched, screeching and shrill; shattering the air like an angry siren. My hands wrapped in my wet hair and pulled until my scalp burned. Some of Elyse’s pins landed with a barely perceptible thud next to me. The pain in my heart was unfathomable—unimaginable—even worse than when I’d remembered losing our baby. At least then, I’d had Ryan to hold onto. I needed him. Even though he was the source of the horrible pain, he was also the only one who could take it away. “Please…” I wasn’t sure if I was begging or praying, but all I wanted was to feel nothing. “If this is real, I don’t want to love him anymore…”
“Julia!” The voice on the other side of the door was frantic. The key rattled in the lock, and the door flew open with a bang against the opposite wall. I scrambled in the opposite direction as quickly as I could, panicked at the potential confrontation with Ryan. My pulse raced as I tried to run down the hall and put a locked door between us.
“Julia!” Ryan bellowed behind me in the hall, his voice frantic. “For God’s sake! Are you all right? Is Turner in there with you?”
“Shut up, Ryan!” Fuck him for asking that after what I’d just witnessed! I tried to slam the door behind me, but he stopped it with a muscled forearm. “Just leave me alone!” Ryan grunted in pain as the wood slammed into his flesh, and I pushed on the door with all I had. He used his weight to force his way into the room, and I stumbled back, helpless to stop him despite using all my effort to close the door.
“What in the hell?” he railed. His hair and clothes were wet like mine, the tuxedo jacket and bow tie were missing, and two buttons undone; the fine white linen was plastered to his body and ruined.
“Why the fuck did you leave?” His eyes showed a mixture of anger, pain, and confusion. “And, would you mind explaining this?” His arm bent at the elbow, he held the bracelet in his clenched fist.
I turned, like a cornered rabbit, waiting to be eaten by my predator. My eyes widened and I stared at my husband. I was still shaking and my throat ached. Everything hurt.
When I didn’t answer, he took a step toward me. I couldn’t help flinching away, which only pissed him off more.
“Julia, answer me!” he yelled, the outburst making me flinch again. “Jesus Christ!” he muttered. “You’re acting like I’m going to hurt you.”
“You have hurt me! So much, I can’t see straight! I can’t breathe! I saw you with Jane, and you’re accusing me of shit with Mike?”
His handsome face flashed recognition and then quickly hardened again. “You saw me comforting a friend! Andrea told me you left with Turner.” The volume of his voice was lower now, but the tone still hard. “I’m so Goddamn sick of you not trusting me!”
“Well, I’m sick of you choosing that bitch over me! I never see you! You spend all of your time with that woman!”
Ryan ran a hand through his wet hair with a huff; I wasn’t sure if it was disbelief or disgust. “It’s fucking New Year’s Eve, Julia! I had something special planned for us, and now it’s completely fucked! Why didn’t you talk to me about what you saw? Instead, you run to Andrea and ask her to give me the bracelet? To give to Jane?” he railed. “Is that what you’re implying? And, then you run out into a storm like a child? You’re acting insane!” His expression was incredulous, but surely he knew what Jane was up to.
My face crumpled again as tears continued to flood my eyes, and I began to cry in earnest. “You don’t know her like you think! She’s nuh… not all unicorns and ruh… rainbows. I won’t let you tuh… turn me into the bad guy on this, Ryan! She’s truh… trying to break us up!”
“No, she isn’t!” he said in disgust. “She felt bad tonight. She’s alone. She knows I’m committed to you!”
“Then she’s one up on me!” I put both hands over my face and fell against the wall with a painful bang, my shoulders shaking with the effort of my sobs. I wanted to tell him about the conversation in the bathroom, but I was so angry that doing so was even necessary; the words couldn’t get past the ache. “Talk about not trusting someone! A year ago,” I cried, defeated, “you would have believed me.”
“Oh, fuck this!” Ryan rushed toward me and grabbed both of my wrists, prying my hands away from my face, his fingers pressing hard into my flesh as he yanked me toward him roughly. “What do I have to do? This is bullshit!” I struggled against him as he pushed me to the wall with his body, struggling to force the bracelet back on my left wrist. “This is us! Not me and Jane! Us, Julia! It makes me fucking sick that you could think I’d take it from your wrist and put it on hers! Or anyone else’s!” He shouted in my face, his chest heaved against mine.
When Ryan had the bracelet once again ensconced on my wrist, he angrily shoved a knee between my legs and lifted me off the floor with it, both hands now pinning my arms to the wall over my head. My feet were left dangling off of the floor and one of the high-heeled pumps dropped off and smacked against the wall before landing with a soft thud on the carpet.
“This is madness!”
We were both furious, and the heat between our bodies began to seep steamily through our wet clothes. The smooth wool crepe covering Ryan’s hips brushed the of inside my thighs. I began to struggle and pushed against his hands with all my might, but he held me still as if I lay docile in his arms. Frustration welled up in my chest. I was conflicted; part of me didn’t want Ryan touching me when he’d just touched her and part of me needed the affirmation that he was still mine. He smelled like cologne and the gel he used on his hair. I fought inhaling deeper, silently praying not to find any traces of Jane’s perfume lingering.
Despite my tears, my jaw jutted out in defiance, and my eyes flashed angrily at my husband. I was helpless physically, but I wouldn’t let him break me.
“I didn’t get a New Year’s kiss from my wife.” Ryan’s voice had dropped to the low, sexy tones he used when he made love to me, but somehow it hurt this time. How could he act like touching me would make the last two hours disappear?
“No… no, noooo!” My struggle renewed as I frantically turned my face away; the vision of the kiss he’d given Jane reappeared in my mind, kissing Ryan. Kissing my husband, on this, the first New Year’s Eve of our married life. He rested his forehead on the side of my face, and I could feel the warmth of breath rush over me, the scent of expensive scotch wafting into my nostrils.
“I don’t want to kiss you. I don’t want you to touch me right now.” The words weren’t true, but my pride insisted I say them. I tried to hide the pain in my eyes, but knew I wouldn’t succeed because my brow was rumpled and my chin trembled. I’d never been able to hide anything from the man who knew me better than I knew myself.
His anger was tangible, his breathing heavy, his expression enraged. I could feel it, but his lips were gentle as they moved across my check toward my mouth, leaving a trail of fire that weakened my resolve. “Liar,” he almost whispered.
When he felt the fight drain out of me, his hands released my wrists and strong fingers circled around my thighs, pulling my sex flush with his throbbing erection. Ryan groaned against the curve of my shoulder as my hands wound in his hair, and I wondered if he tasted the salt from my tears on his tongue. My heart was broken, and still, I couldn’t deny him.
“I know you love me, so stop this,” he demanded. I started to sob, hating my weakness; hating that he was right. “Do you feel how I want you? How hot I am for you? Julia,” he groaned. “Tonight was going to be glorious.”
I closed my eyes aga
in, the pain still so fresh. I tried to deny the desire Ryan stirred within me. “All I can see is you kissing her."
He pulled back, and his frenzied blue eyes locked with mine and hardened. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he spat out. “Happy fucking New Year! She kissed me! Barely! If you’d bothered to wait ten seconds…” Ryan paused and huffed. “Fuck this! Actions speak louder than words.”
Exactly, my mind cried.
Strong fingers closed around my chin and forced my face to his, his tongue parting my lips and plundering my mouth in a thunderous kiss as he ground his pelvis into mine in a series of thrusts to show me his arousal. I hated my weakness, but my mouth finally responded to the fiery kiss, my hands tugging at his hair to bring his tongue in even deeper. When Ryan groaned into my mouth, the air left my lungs and I gasped for breath. His lips ripped from mine to let me breathe, his hands frantically ripping at my already ruined dress, his hands greedily seeking my breasts.
“That was a kiss,” he said as his lips dragged across my cheek and to my temple, one hand moving between us to open his pants and push down his boxer briefs to expose himself. “What you saw meant nothing. This,” he pushed his engorged cock against me again, the thick shaft pressing against my damp flesh through the silk panties, and rubbing in a slow, methodical rhythm, “belongs to you.” Ryan’s fingers kneaded and rolled my left nipple painfully. Still, it puckered and grew in his hand. His hips held me up as he reached down and roughly ripped the crotch of my panties away. I gasped in surprise when his fingers parted me, feeling the dampness of my desire. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “We fucking own each other, and you know it. Nothing or no one can ever change it.” Two fingers sank inside me and I instinctively arched into them. “I know you know it, baby, so stop this.”
“Ryan…” I whispered achingly. My heart still hurt, but I needed him desperately. His body, his mouth, his love… would take away all of the aches he created in me if I let it happen. I didn’t want to think about tomorrow or if Jane would still be between us, I just wanted to drown in his love and his words and never let go. I wanted to let him mend the break in my heart and fill me with his body and his love.
“Say it!” Ryan commanded. My eyes snapped to his. “Tell me that you know,” he said more softly.
“I know, Ryan.” His mouth crashed into mine once again, our tongues tangling and laving deeply with each other; roughly, but deep and with purpose. He was showing me he loved me, making me acknowledge it. My heart swelled with love. He groaned when the thick head of his cock probed my entrance and he started to enter, stretching me wide as he pushed in deep. I arched, aching to take his thick length inside me inch by glorious inch.
“Uhhhh,” I sighed in pleasure and squeezed around him when he was fully inside. Ryan stiffened against me, feeling my muscles milk at him. I wanted to burn my presence into his mind and onto his body; make him come harder and in ways no one else ever could. I loved him beyond reason, and I needed him to know no one could ever make him feel like I could.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he murmured before his mouth took mine again. We were angry and hungry and ardent in our passion for each other. I clung to him, ripping at his shirt, my fingers parting the material and splaying out over his chest. He began to thrust, long and deep, each one punctuated roughly enough to bounce me against the wall, my breasts swelled in his hands as he teased and tugged at the nipples then letting the fullness fill his hand. His fingers closed around the mounds of flesh and he began to knead gently. The kisses softened, our lips lifting and feasting with determination as our bodies moved together. Ryan pulled at my bottom lip and licked at my top one before his tongue entered again. I sucked it deeper into my mouth.
My legs began to tingle as Ryan used his leverage to find my G-spot with the head of his dick. My breath hitched, and I squeezed around him and held it.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly between breathless kisses. “I can feel you starting… come for me, Julia.”
“Ryan, I want you,” I breathed. “Come with me.” I concentrated hard, biting my lip, wanting it to last longer, but my fragile emotions and Ryan’s urgency made it impossible.
“I love you, baby. Just let it go.” His guttural words pushed me over the edge, and the orgasm washed over me in delicious waves that left me jerking against him. He pulled me off the wall, and my legs wrapped around him. Ryan held me tightly to him as he carried me to the bed and laid me down. I knew he hadn’t come and I didn’t want him to leave my body.
“No, Ryan.” My fingers curled into his shoulders and the hair at the back of his head when he began to pull out. “Don’t!”
“I’ll be back. Let’s take off these wet clothes, sweetheart.” He kissed my mouth in gentle reassurance that he’d come back to me. The cold air that rushed over my damp skin caused goose bumps to pop out and made me shiver.
I watched him retreat in the dark, the white of his shirt a shadowy image as he peeled it off and stepped out of his pants and silk boxers before walking into the bathroom. A sloppy splat signaled he’d deposited the articles in a heap on the ceramic tile before returning to the bedroom completely naked, his erection still at full attention, to begin peeling my sodden dress, tattered panties, lace corset, and thigh high stockings from my body.
“It’s a shame this dress is ruined. You were stunning in it.” His voice was silken, but held a trace of sadness.
He was so beautiful; his hair still clung damply to his nape and forehead, and his muscles moved gracefully beneath his smooth skin. He was a trace thinner than he was a year ago; the lifestyle and rough hours of a medical resident clearly taking its toll.
I lifted my hand and ran it down his arm from his shoulder to his hand, tenderness flooded through me. I sucked in my breath. I loved this man beyond words, and suddenly, I regretted the loss of whatever he had planned for the remainder of the evening.
Ryan’s deep blue eyes turned black in the darkness but glittered as he paused and studied my body, now left naked and vulnerable to his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as the remnants of my clothes were tossed into the bathroom with his. I could sense his immense sorrow at the emotional barrier between us. Even when we were making love and we were locked together in our desperate closeness, there was melancholy beneath it. Suddenly, I was overwrought with the need to make sure he knew I loved him as much as I ever did and that I trusted him. I could see his pain, and I hated it.
“Ryan,” I called softly.
“Mmm, huh?” he answered. He was standing at the foot of the bed, and I raised my arms, beckoning him to me. Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate and crawled up the bed on his hands and knees toward me. One knee parted mine, and he settled into the cradle of my body in one fluid motion, his hands framing my face, thumbs tracing my temples at the same time as he came inside my body again. My leg hitched and curled around his hips, the heel of my foot pressed into his firm ass and my arms sliding up his muscled back.
“God,” he groaned, his lids dropping slowly over his eyes. He dipped his head to kiss me softly, then with increasing ardor. Where our coupling had been hard and frenzied minutes before, it was now unhurried with tender urgency, the point this time to prove depth of love, not mutual ownership.
Ryan pushed into me with a steady and deep rhythm, our mouths giving and taking, licking, hovering, and then sucking madly on each other’s. My fingers curled into the silken strands at the nape of his neck, and cupping his head possessively, I pulled his mouth closer to mine.
Ryan’s breathing and low moans told me he was getting close, and he slowed and then stilled inside me. I could feel him fighting for control.
“Baby, don’t stop,” I whispered.
“If I don’t, I’ll come.”
I didn’t speak, but squeezed around him and arched my hips, pulling and then pushing on his body with mine, determined to do the work he refused to do and take him over the edge.
“Jesus,” Ryan gasped, and then h
is body arched as he succumbed, thrusting into me again deeply and spilling hotly inside my body. I kissed his shoulder several times—my lips moving softly over his flesh; my legs and arms holding him tightly to me as he rode it out and groaned my name into my neck.
When it was over, Ryan pulled back and held my gaze, his breathing heavy as he pushed the hair away from my face, but he didn’t say anything. His face looked pained, and it hurt me in ways I couldn’t articulate. Neither one of us spoke. When he finally pulled out of me and moved to my side, he gathered me back against him. We both lay on our sides, his breath softly brushing my skin. My hand lay on the pillow beside my head and his slid up to thread tightly through mine. Ryan used the leverage to pull me back tighter, and I brought the top of his hand to my mouth at the same time as his lips tenderly brushed a trail across my shoulder. I trembled despite being held in the iron vice of his arms, and our hands were still locked together. His fingers tightened in silent command that I understood, without words, all he needed to say.
We owned each other, yes, but we loved more than anything. A love like this was once in ten thousand lifetimes, and despite Jane and the pain she’d caused, I was sure of two things: Ryan meant everything; he was my beginning and my end.
*****
I woke as the sun cast a rosy glow over the room. I was sprawled on my stomach across Ryan’s naked body, his warmth seeping into me everywhere our skin touched. His knuckles traced lightly over my shoulder blade, just above the sheet and comforter that rested just across us both. The feather-light stroking sent tingles of contented peace through me. I could hear his heartbeat beneath my ear, his skin smooth under my cheek. I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted more of his arms and to pretend everything since Christmas Eve hadn’t happened; except that amazing poem. I’d keep that. I tightened my arms around him. Last night was the worst fight we’d ever had, but my heart was still so full of him; like I could eat him alive and still not be close enough.
