by Kim Karr
I kiss him and he smiles through our kiss. “I wasn’t finished. I wanted to hear you scream my name again.”
“Oh you will, I promise.” I unbutton his pants and run my hand inside his boxers, just needing to feel him. He stands up and pulls me with him. I love the way it feels to be in his arms. Setting me on the bed, he quickly removes his boots, pants, and boxers and stands there looking so incredible—his taut muscles on full display. He takes my hand. “Dahlia, can I make love to you now?” he asks and I melt. Every move, every motion is done with an almost unbearable slowness.
I nod my head and pull him to me on the bed. But I want to feel every inch of him so I roll us over and hover over him. He groans and pulls me down to him. He traces his tongue around the shell of my ear and then whispers all the things he wants to do to me. Dragging my tongue down his neck, his chest, I take him in my hands, gently stroking him and he groans even louder. Placing a knee on either side of his legs, I glide my lips down his stomach. My hands continue to move up and down his length and when my lips meet his tip, he shudders. I lose myself in the moment. This is the intimacy that I’ve missed. But when my mouth covers him, he pulls me back up to him.
I lie against him, pressing my naked body into his, and look at him. “Why’d you stop me?”
He lets out a sigh and groans, “I want to be inside you when I come.”
I move my mouth to his ear so I can whisper, “You can be.”
“No Dahlia, I won’t be if you do that.”
He molds my breasts with his palms and whispers things in my ear in that hot, raspy tone that makes me ache for him. Moving my hips he pulls me on top of him and he’s right where I need him to be. Elation sweeps through me as he easily slips in. His hands move to my backside, pressing me into him. When I fold my knees beneath myself and sit up, he lets out a long groan. But when I try to control the pace by interlocking my fingers with his on either side of his head, he grins and shakes his head.
He leaves our hands there for a few moments and I rock into him over and over, rolling my hips. Before long, his hands are on my hips. But I got this. Leaning back, I rest my palms on his knees and move slowly, rising up just far enough so we both feel the thrill of him sliding back inside. With every passing moment, I sink faster and deeper but stay closer. My pulse pounds with excitement. Before I know it, he’s clutching my legs, focusing on my every move. Our eyes meet and we are hypnotized by each other’s expressions of pure pleasure. When I reach down between us and alternate stroking and squeezing whatever flesh I can get my hands on, he groans and curses so loud I lose myself.
Continuing with this rapid pace, I feel nothing but complete bliss. The pressure builds swiftly and I am quickly on the brink of climaxing again. It’s heavenly. He pulls me to him and seals his lips to mine, thrusting his hips up. Breathing heavily, I know he’s close. He rolls us over, never breaking our connection. Pulling my hands over my head, he takes control and it’s perfect.
I watch as his body flexes rhythmically with mine. He moves faster, kissing me furiously. I’m pushed over the edge the second his tongue hits the roof of my mouth. “Oh God yes, River yes,” I scream once again and he stills, shouting my name as my waves of ecstasy bring on his own climax.
When we are both spent, we fall into each other’s arms and cuddle close together. “I love you, River,” I say and I’m going to tell him this over and over again.
“I love you, Dahlia, I love every single thing about you. You’re perfect, really.” I can’t contain my smile. I haven’t heard him say that in so long and hearing the familiar words sends shivers up my spine.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
He smiles at me. “Tu m’as manqué.”
I look at him questioningly. I know he’s speaking French, but have no idea what he just said.
Tracing his finger around my lips he says, “Brigitte told me once that in France they don’t say I missed you, they say you were missing from me, and you were.”
I have to compose myself before placing a soft kiss on his lips and nuzzling his nose. That is the perfect way to say it. It’s how I have felt, too—like he was missing from me.
As I settle back in his arms, I think about how when we were together, there was no need for instant gratification because there were no doubts between us. We both knew we had the rest of our lives together. I kiss him again and close my eyes, laying my head on his chest. He strokes his fingers up and down my bare back and I feel myself fade. His soft tender voice awakens me. “Hey, when was the last time you ate?”
I playfully start biting his chest. “Well, I was planning on having you, but you stopped me.”
He laughs and it’s the first time I’ve heard that sound in a while. “No really, I want you to eat something.”
I look up at him with a wicked smile on my face.
“Food, Dahlia. Food.” Then he smirks his devilish grin and says with a wink, “Then you can have me for dessert.”
I sit up. “Do you think it’s too early for a grilled cheese, a chocolate milkshake, and French fries?”
Without answering he sits up and grabs the hotel room phone to call room service. “I’d like to order two chocolate milkshakes, two grilled cheeses, and two orders of fries, please.”
He slips his jeans on without boxers and I wrap myself in the hotel robe. The food arrives and we eat, dipping our fries in each other’s shakes. We alternate feeding each other and licking the shake off each other’s mouths. We laugh and have fun like we haven’t in what seems like forever.
Once we’ve finished eating we sit down and finally talk, and I mean we actually talk, we don’t yell, accuse, avoid, or blame.
He settles against the bed. “Okay, let’s do this.”
I nod in agreement as I sit at the foot of the bed.
Sighing, he drops his eyes. “Bell came over to see me as soon as you left Mom’s house. I know she told you everything.”
His eyes rise up to meet mine and he crawls down to me and lifts my chin. “First, you need to know how very sorry I am . . . how many times I tried to tell you . . . I just could never get the words out. I couldn’t hurt you like that.”
I close my eyes, his apology so sincere that pain pierces through my heart from the weight of the secret he kept, not just for me, but for him as well. The burden had to be almost unbearable. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and look at his gorgeous face for the longest time. Then I bring my lips to his and kiss him. It’s not a burning-with-desire kiss—it’s a kiss that lets him know he doesn’t have to apologize anymore. I understand. When we break away we smile at each other and he lets out a long sigh before moving back to where he was sitting.
“Bell’s pregnancy and decision to not keep the baby was really hard on all of us. Mom wanted her to keep it. Xander and I stayed out of it but we also knew she wasn’t ready to be a mother. But her decision to give up the baby was her own. I never voiced my opinion either way. I just told her I would be there for her. The day she had the baby she didn’t want to see it or to know if it was a boy or girl. Mom was in there with her and she saw the baby and held it just once. To this day, we never talk about it.”
Wiping my fingers under my eyes I think about what he just said. Regardless of the fact that Ben fathered that child, the situation was heartrending and I could only imagine how torn Bell was. That could not have been an easy decision to make.
“River, I called Ben and confronted him about the affair, but I didn’t tell him about the baby. I’ll never tell him about the baby. It’s not my place.”
He nods somberly, agreeing with me. He rakes his fingers through his hair and I can tell he has more to say.
“What is it?”
“There’s more. Bell is not the only reason I didn’t tell you. When he was dead I didn’t want to hurt you that way. It didn’t make sense, so I didn’t say anything. When he came back, when he was standing right there in front of us, I wasn’t sure if you’d go back to him. So I didn’t tell you,
but this time it was because of me—I needed you to pick me because you wanted to be with me. Not because of how you’d feel about him when you found out.”
I’m not mad or angry with him for his admission; I had already let that go. Getting off the bed, I go sit next to him. I need to tell him how I feel. How I’ve always felt about him. I need to tell him what I should have all along. I never did because it felt wrong when Ben was dead—like if I said the words out loud Ben would hear me.
Cupping his cheeks I speak from my heart and divulge something I’ve never once said out loud. “River, it’s always been you. From the minute I saw you at the bar, I think it’s always been you. I never even set a wedding date with Ben and maybe that was why. Because you were the one for me, you are the one for me.”
After a moment passes, he sighs and brings me to his chest and just holds me, whispering, “Thank you.”
We stay that way until he dips his head to mine. “By the way, Bell probably isn’t speaking to me. I got really pissed when she told me she had talked to you.”
I allow one small smile and tell him, “I’m sure she’ll get over it, she’s used to your moods.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess she is, and, besides, she’s so happy right now with her new job I don’t think she could stay mad at anybody for long.”
I smile big at that. Then I sit back on my knees. “I talked to Grace yesterday.”
He looks at me with concern. “How did it go?”
I smile. “Really well. We’re fine, more than fine. And after I talked to her I only wanted to come home and talk to you, but Ellie was there and I couldn’t face her. I was so upset to see her there again. I just knew it would piss me off to go inside and I wanted so much to talk to you without any anger. So that’s why I decided to go see Bell first and make sure she knew I wasn’t mad at her.”
He nods. “Ellie dropped by and I was in no mood for her crap, but she tried making one last-ditch effort to get me back on the tour, and when she knew it was a lost cause, she left and I waited for you to come home. I drove out to Laguna, couldn’t find you. Came home, found your phone in the closet, then stayed up all night. I called Aerie, even Caleb. Then I wrote a song to pass the time just not to go crazy.”
I start crying again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call or come home. I wanted to. I have no idea why I didn’t.”
“Shh . . . don’t cry. We’re okay. We’re together now and nothing like that is ever going to happen again.”
Wiping my tears, I kiss him for a long while then break free and decide it’s time to talk about our jealousy. Ellie is easily put to rest and surprisingly so is Ben. He still half flinches when I say Ben’s name, but I don’t think that will ever pass and I’m okay with that.
River tells me, “Once I read the note you left me, I knew I had nothing to worry about, no reason to be jealous.”
He believes me and I believe him; we both trust each other because, after all, isn’t that what love is—knowing someone can crush you, but believing they never will, trusting them not to?
We talk about everything else that has happened between us over the last few weeks—our urgent sex needs, his tantrums, my running away, my avoidance, and his need to protect me. These are talks from the heart and they open up many old wounds for both of us, but it is okay. We even discuss his fervent need to protect the women he loves. He has a hard time explaining it, but I get it. I think it stems back to his father’s selfishness. In the end we both decide we will work toward communicating better.
We also talk about the tour. He doesn’t want that life and I respect him for knowing when too much is just too much. He tells me Xander, Nix, and even Garrett aren’t talking to him right now. He makes a joke that he’s glad his mother is out of town or he’s sure she would have organized a sit-down. We both laugh at the thought, but we’re also laughing because the seriousness of this rift among the band is more than we can bear.
Finally, we talk about what happened the last two nights, and how that couldn’t happen again. We both agreed. I regretted that I didn’t go home and stayed the night here alone the same way he had the night he stormed out. He knew why I went to a hotel, but I needed to know why he didn’t come home. He explained that he went to Smitten’s and was pretty drunk by the time Xander, Nix, and Garrett found him there. They all went back to Garrett’s house and spent the night arguing. Xander and Nix walked out and then Garrett and him drank until they both passed out. When he woke up Garrett took him back to get his car and then he came home, but by that time I was gone. All that was left was my note. He told me after he read my note he, too, found the strength to look past the chaos. So much had happened in such a short period of time and we just weren’t prepared for it. Neither one of us ever doubted the true strength of our relationship, but we doubted each other’s investment in it and that was the scariest part.
After baring our souls to each other we lie together, embracing as if we are one. We know our love is strong; we have withstood what we hope to be one of the biggest issues we will ever have to face—Ben’s return. I know we are much stronger because of it.
Once the hard conversations are over we enjoy the peacefulness of just being alone together. I’m lying on my side, mindlessly twirling one of my diamond stud earrings and he’s watching me intently.
“Did I ever tell you my parents had a thing for birthdays?”
He smirks. “Most parents do, Dahlia.”
“No, I mean really. They had an obsession. They would start asking me what I wanted for my birthday months ahead of time. For my twelfth birthday I told them I wanted a carousel. Now I meant a musical one, but they rented out the merry-go-round at Griffith Park for an entire Saturday afternoon. It was amazing.”
With a wicked grin he slides his fingers down my bare stomach. “I could rent it out for your next birthday and we could have some fun if you’re still into merry-go-rounds, that is?”
“Hey.” I feign offense. “What can I say?—I was twelve and liked riding the ponies!”
He laughs so hard he’s almost crying. “You walked right into that one.”
Laughing along with him I say, “Yeah, I did.”
Holding his stomach, he takes a deep breath and manages, “Okay, tell me about another outrageous birthday present.”
“See these?” I say, pointing to my earrings. “Well, for my thirteenth birthday I told my parents I wanted something that sparkled like Ariel’s mermaid tale. And these are what I got.”
He kisses my forehead. “They’re beautiful. And Dahlia, I can understand why your parents wanted to always make you happy. They loved you.”
Then, as if deep in thought, he starts caressing my back and humming the “Happy Birthday” song. I suddenly have a strong desire to hear him play. It’s been so long since we’ve shared that intimacy and I’m craving it. “River, can I ask you to do something?”
He leans over and kisses me then he whispers in my ear, “Sure. Are you ready for dessert?”
I almost forgot what I wanted to ask him when his lips meet mine again, but I quickly remember. “Well, of course, but first will you play ‘Never in Pieces’ for me?”
He props up his elbows. “Now?” he says as he leans back down and resumes kissing me, this time trailing feather-soft kisses up my neck.
“Yes, please,” I beg.
He sits up and gets off the bed. “God, why can’t I ever say no to you?”
“Because you love me so much?” I smile at him.
“Yes I do, my girl, that I do,” he says while pulling up his boxers. And I notice what I didn’t notice before, that he’s wearing his Pac-Man boxers.
My breath quickens just watching him. I suck in a breath and happy tears form in my eyes. “You wore my favorite boxers.”
He grins his familiar heart-stopping grin and winks at me as he tugs on the waistband and nods. Then he picks up his guitar and sits on the edge of the bed. The muscles in his back flex in a way that makes me want to lick a line around
each one. He twists sideways and his abs and pecs ripple with each movement. I bite down on my lower lip in anticipation as he sets himself up. His strong arm cradles the guitar as he rests it on his thigh. He looks over at me and pats his free hand on the bed, motioning for me to sit next to him. Closing the distance between us, I study him further as he begins to play. His nimble fingers pick the fret board and I am mesmerized as he moves with an effortless ease. Watching him I can almost feel his fingers touching me with the same gentle ease. My eyes travel from his fingers up his arm. I study the muscles in his forearm, how his leg bobs up and down as his shoulders rock back and forth.
I look at his face—even with his eyes closed he’s beautiful. Strong jaw, sculpted nose, smooth skin—as I soak in the sight of him he’s fully entranced in the music he’s creating. And then he opens his eyes and smiles and I melt. His green eyes gleam and his dimples come to life. He’s the epitome of sexiness and he’s mine. He glances over at me as he sings the chorus and my smile couldn’t be any bigger. And just as his body sways to the beat of the chorus so does mine.
There are no pieces, I promise you
Glass can shatter and bones may break
But I will always call, I will always find you
Our love is strong
Let me ease your mind, let me in, I will always love you
