by N. Alleman
“Get the fuck outta here, kid.” Coach takes my keyring and removes my key to the gym from it. “I’ll give this to you once you get back here with that bike.”
“Are you fucking kidding with that?” I stare at him like he’s lost his mind.
Coach doesn’t meet my eye. “Hey, I’m sick of having to arrange rides for you everywhere. You’ve got a bike. Bring the damn thing up here, and you can use it to get around. Save the rest of us from having to be your car service all the time.”
“All right, geez.” I storm off. I wasn’t such a problem to them when it came time for paychecks, was I?
In the end, I get over myself and decide that Coach is right. I book a flight home, and when I get there in the middle of the afternoon, I have a cab drive me over to my old house.
I’ve spoken with the realtor, and they know I’m coming so I should be able to just let myself into the garage, get my bike and be on my way.
And once I get there, I realize why I’ve been putting this off.
Standing there, on the lawn that connects my old house and Olive’s, all the memories of the past come rushing back. I’m overcome with emotion.
I should have come back with her.
The corners of my mouth lift up thinking how amazing it would be to have Olive with me right now. How much I’d love for us to be sharing our memories with each other. With our daughter.
I swallow hard. That’s not the way it worked out. Might as well get on with the job at hand. Retrieve the damn bike, so I can get out of here.
Walking to the side of my house toward the garage, I’m just about to open the door, when I turn to take one more look at where my precious Olive grew up.
Just then the front door of the house opens.
I freeze, my eyes glued to it. I know Olive doesn’t live there anymore, and her father passed away so I’m not expecting him.
But what I do see is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
My precious daughter Lark skips out the front door, holding the hand of my other most beloved girl—Olive.
“Come on, Mommy. You’re too slow!”
And maybe what I do next isn’t playing fair, but I’m tired of losing in this game of love. The last thing I want to do is spook Olive and have her run back inside and refuse to see me.
So I play a little dirty, because everything is on the line.
They say all is fair in love and war, and I finally intend to win this war.
“Hey there!” I wave and call to them. “Lark, come here.”
27
Olive
I hear his voice, but it can’t be real. As much as I’ve tried to erase Axel from my mind, I haven’t been able to. How could I when I have a little reminder of him underfoot every day?
When I look in the direction of his voice, I see her running to him.
He picks her up and twirls her around. The pair of them are smiling like they’ve just found their best friend after a long absence.
Wordlessly, I stare at them.
He runs to me, our daughter still in his arms.
My legs go weak, and I’m glued to the spot.
It all happens in slow motion as he throws his arms open, and smacks into me as he hugs me. The momentum is too much, and we all go crashing to the grass. Lark giggles like this is the funniest thing ever, but Axel brushes my hair away from my forehead.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” he asks, concern evident in his eyes.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, wrapping my arms around him. Can this be real? I laugh at the craziness of it and wonder if I’m losing my mind.
“Good.” He nuzzles his nose against my skin, moving his face to the nape of my neck and settling in there.
It takes him a few minutes to get off me. When he finally does, he rolls over so he’s lying next to me in the grass. Then he grabs me by the waist and pulls so I’m almost lying on top of him.
“Well,” he says, his voice more confident and sure of himself. The Axel I’m used to. The Axel I love, even though his voice is trembling—he’s weak with emotion and so am I. “Looks like I’m definitely buying my old house now.”
“What?” I cling to one of his arms, wanting this all to be real so badly.
“Now that I know you’re here, it seems like the right thing to do.”
“Uncertainty isn’t like the Axel I know,” I tease him, but look away. If he is real, I can’t let him see how hurt I am.
But then I stop myself. I’ve run away from this man way too often. I owe him the truth. If he needs me anywhere near the way I need him, he needs to know.
“And running away isn’t like the Olive I know.” He strokes my cheek, and props up on an elbow so he can look at me.
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and force myself to look up at him again.
“Okay,” he teases, “maybe it is exactly like you.”
“If Mommy runs away, you should try to catch her,” Lark pipes up.
Axel and I laugh. In case we needed a reminder that little ones have big ears.
Axel tweaks Lark’s nose playfully. “I think you’re right. That’s my intention, sweetheart.”
“Axel,” I whisper, “we need to talk.”
I jerk my head toward Lark to indicate that I mean when she’s not around. He nods in agreement.
“And I need to get into that house.” He stands up, and offers a hand to both me and Lark. When he lifts me up, he holds me close for a minute before letting me go. He gazes wistfully at his old house. Only twenty feet away from mine, just like it has been since we were little kids.
“I’ll join you in a minute. Let me just take Lark’s over to the neighbor’s.”
“Do I have to go?” Lark pouts. “Axel just got here.”
“We’ll do something special tomorrow, I promise,” he tells her, and that makes her happy for now.
I take Lark’s hand, and we walk down the street to Mrs. Prentice’s house. She’s always glad to watch Lark. I’m not sure who Lark is more thrilled to see—Mrs. Prentice or her cat Beatrix.
“I just need to—” I start to tell Mrs. Prentice.
“You do whatever you need to do. Lark can stay with me as long as she likes. It does this old woman good to have a young’un around.”
“Thank you so much.” I practically sprint down the street back to Axel’s old house. Mrs. Prentice’s grandchildren live on the other side of the country, and I know she misses them. Any chance she gets to spoil Lark she takes.
I find Axel picking the lock to his front door.
“Your porch needs some work,” I observe. “And you need a key.”
“Hey,” he defends himself, not looking up from the knob. “I’ve got access to the garage, but now that I’m thinking of buying the place, I want in the rest of it, and the door to the inside from the garage is locked. I used to have a key …”
“You’re back in the habit of losing things?” I ask, moving as close to him as I can without interrupting his break-in.
The lock clicks open, and he raises his arms triumphantly then pushes the door open and turns on the light switch next to the door.
Everything looks the same as it did a few years ago, except for the rug at the entrance. That’s new. Axel mock bows to me, indicating that I should go first. I do, wiping my feet on the rug as I go.
“I don’t lose what’s mine,” He says with such confidence that I realize he’s not talking about the house. He closes the door behind him.
We’re left with the scent of each other and this old house. He’s not wearing cologne. But there’s something about him that smells undeniably …
Axel.
He smells manly, like the ocean—of water and salt air. Maybe something else. I can’t place it, but I want to press my nose against his skin, to smell him, to taste him.
I came here to talk. Instead of looking up at him and saying anything that could possibly embarrass me even further—God, if he only knew how depressed I was withou
t him.
Strolling through the living room, looking for the couch I was so familiar with when I was a child, I trip.
Axel catches me before I fall though, and for a second, we gaze into each other’s eyes.
Before I can turn away, he presses his lips softly against mine.
The kiss is gentle. The desperate need between us is so strong it threatens to steal my breath, so when he pulls back I gasp for air.
While I struggle to calm my rapidly beating heart, he touches my hair with his hand. It’s innocent, but I moan. And I can tell from the electricity passing through us that he’s filled with lust too.
“Do you remember how we’d sit on this couch and watch movies together when you couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.” My hand is on his chest, touching him again, needing to explore his skin. “And then we’d go to school in the morning without any sleep, exhausted.”
“But not in high school,” he reminds me. Then he drops onto the couch and pats his lap for me to sit down on it.
“Let’s not talk about when things got complicated.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Like it’s not complicated when you run away from me.” Placing both hands on my waist he pulls me onto his lap and holds me close.
I scoot closer to him, wiggling my butt against his dick to make him smile, to make him hard. I gulp, needing to explain myself but so distracted by the way he feels below me. “I saw you, that day.”
He tickles the back of my neck. “At the fight?”
I nod.
“I saw you, too. Olive, I was never going to do anything with those girls. Never. I’ve been looking for you for ages.”
“I ran away from you, again. I’m sorry.”
“You’re here with me now.” He presses a small kiss against my skin, and I can feel myself getting aroused. It’s not helping that his erection is rubbing right against my sex.
“Olive,” he says, running a finger over my eyelids as I close them in delight. “It’s not like that. Please, believe me, it isn’t. I only want you. I want to be the best I can be for you. I want to be here, with you forever, to take care of you and Lark. I love you, and now that I’ve found you— you’re not getting rid of me.”
And even though he’s hurt me so much, I know it was all a mistake. I shouldn’t have run away from. I turn so I can straddle him and wrap my arms around his neck.
“I love you, too, and I’m glad you’re here.” I kiss him on the lips, my hands going to his chest as I tug at his shirt playfully. “But if you’re buying this house … Hmm.”
I kiss him again, bumping noses. “Which house should we live in?”
“That depends on which bedroom you like better,” he says, his hand dipping down the curve of my back to my ass. He squeezes gently, and I grind against his manhood. I forgive him completely for everything we’ve been through, and I want to show him that in the way words never will be able to.
“Olive, do you want to be with me?”
“Yes, more than anything.”
I’ve been waiting for him for so long. Every thought I try to banish from my mind is just replaced by two more.
I could never forget Axel. Never move on from him. And the fact that his house was being sold. He’s back for a reason. I knew about the house being for sale, but I just didn’t know the details.
He kisses me on the neck. “I promise I’ll explain more later. For now we need to focus on something else.”
One of his hands slides up my stomach over my shirt, and he squeezes my breast. Then he tosses me onto the couch beside him.
“Olive,” he groans, his voice low. “Do you remember where my old bedroom is?”
I’m already standing.
Of course I do. We’ve never … not in there. We’ve played games there, had sleepovers as young children, and I went in there once as a young teen, with the door open as we did homework, even though our parents knew there was nothing to worry about.
I look at Axel. There definitely should’ve been something to worry about. We’re both thinking the same thing.
And we race each other up the stairs.
28
Axel
Once we get upstairs, Olive drops down on the bed. I don’t know if she means to or not, but her legs are open just enough that I can’t help it. I’ve got to get between those deliciously creamy thighs of hers.
All of the pent up frustration I’ve had about us being apart, this fucked-up game of cat and mouse where neither of us is actively hunting the other, and we’re both just running away …
It ends now.
Pushing her back on the bed I climb on top of her. She makes a funny noise, and I wonder if I might have hurt her. Sometimes I forget my own strength.
“Are you okay?” My voice is low, almost a growl.
“Yes.” She gazes up at me, and I notice that she isn’t doing that thing where she half-closes them. I swear she will when I make her come, but for now I love the way she’s looking at me. I never want it to end.
My lips crush hers, my tongue forces hers apart and I invade that lovely mouth of hers. I make it mine. She squirms underneath me, adjusting her hands to try and touch me. I allow her to caress my chest and sliding down the deep V leading to my cock before I stop her.
“Olive,” I say, turning her on her side and holding her arms so they’re bent carefully behind her and she can’t touch me. “Don’t.”
That’s all I say, and she moans her understanding. I lift her hair from behind her and kiss the back of her neck. This sends a shiver down her back, and I get a thrill from pressing her down against my old bed. I’m on top of her back and shoving her underneath me, trying to get as close to her as I can through the fabric of our clothing.
I slide one hand delicately down over her ass then I slap it, hard.
She squeals, bumping back against me, and I grind my cock hard against her bottom. I’m not going to make love to her, and I’m not going to have sex.
I’m going to fuck her.
I take both her arms and place them on the headboard. “Leave them there.”
Next, I pull her shirt away from her body and trail kisses down her back. I tear off her jeans, leaving only her panties. They’re light blue, my favorite color. Too bad. They have to go too.
My hands shake as I try to slow myself down, but I just fucking can’t. I rip the seams open and she gasps as the air hits her beautiful, pink pussy. I tap her sex, making her push back against me as my hand connects with the skin there—
I tease her with my fingers, dipping into her cleft and clenching my fingers before removing them to her protest. I’m on my knees behind her, my tongue dropping from the bottom of her spine to her butt. I bite a cheek, my mouth still moving down as I run my tongue over her inner thighs, kissing her on her pussy once before going back to her thighs, darting back and forth.
Her moans turn into begging.
My cock feels like it’s made of steel, and I can’t tease her anymore. I need to make her come, to make her climax over and over again as I mark her as mine. I kiss her pussy, deeper, harder, running my tongue along her slit from her folds to that sweet little button. I catch her clit with my tongue and suck it hard. Her legs shake and her hips move away from me, but I grab them, pull her back into my face as I taste her. I torment her until she bucks and finally collapses in front of me, spent.
“My God, you taste so fucking good.”
She’s still panting, but manages a wanton smile.
But I’m not done. I grip her legs and her body is limp in my hands as she gasps, and I flip her onto her back, giving me full access to those gorgeous breasts of hers. I kiss her pussy one more time, sucking at it as she pulls her hands through my hair, begging me not to torture her.
Fuck, I want to, so bad.
I kiss up from her pussy to her stomach, then I suck a nipple into my mouth. I align my cock with her slit, rub the head along her opening, and push the head inside her as she moans. I bi
te her nipple so gently it’s almost impossible to tell I’m doing it, and then I move to the next one, and I’m back at her throat. I pull her hair, pushing another inch of my cock into her as she arches her back for me.
Fuck.
I can’t do this slow shit any longer. I need her.
Her hands aren’t on the headboard anymore. She clutches the sheets at her sides and I kiss her hungrily, shoving my dick as deep into her as possible. Cries of passion escape her throat as I thrust into her, again, and again.
Finally, I stop and pull out. I run a hand along her pussy and slap it.
“Oh!” She’s shocked, but dripping. I move that hand to her ass, slapping it and watching her ass move. Her tits jiggle, and I hit her ass again, sitting down behind her and then taking her waist in my hands.
“Get on my cock,” I growl against her neck as I bite it, pulling her onto my lap. “Now.”
She’s ready to obey but not fast enough. I pull her back to my dick, enjoying this new position as impale her wet pussy down on my rod. My cock twitches inside her, and I’m not fucking her anywhere near as hard as I could be.
Fuck.
Her pussy pulses and clenches around my dick, and I can’t hold myself back anymore. I thrust into her hard, using deep, long strokes. One of my hands pushes down on her stomach so she fucks me back even when she’s not trying to. She gasps, and I feel her muscles tighten around me like she’s about to come again.
“Please,” she gasps. Her chest is heaving and I grab one of her breasts, flicking a nipple there as I suckle on her neck. That does it for her, and she breaks into shards of ecstasy.
Only the grace of God keeps me from spilling myself inside her right then. She collapses, still shaking, her pussy convulsing. I pull myself from her and grin down, stroking the curve from her hip to her ass.
“I’m not done with you, woman,” I groan, grabbing both of her legs and pulling her closer to where I am at the end of the bend. She turns herself over, obedient, tired, but still so ready to please. Her nipples are hard and her face is flushed. My cock is about to burst, and I just want to dive into her again …
