Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

by Wendy L. Wilson

  His eyes widened in shock and sure as I thought, his smile relaxes into a stunned expression. I know he doesn’t think it, but I am ready. Let’s do this.

  MY EYES WIDEN AND I damn near cut off the circulation to my hands as I grasp her waist.

  “…Oooo, ouch…”

  I look down, immediately loosening my grip, but nearly having little to no control over any of my body. My ego instantly swells along with other parts of me that may very well explode at any given moment. Subconsciously, I’m completely stunned and my brain is screaming at my hands, Rip the damn drawer of the nightstand open and get one of those suckers on. I can’t do it fast enough; but I pause, needing to be sure.

  “Okay, so you’re ready for this? Because I’m gonna tell you right now,” I point my thumb at the nightstand, still looking at her with a bit of held in laughter as I start to joke, “I think I only have one non-latex condom in that drawer, and I sure don’t want to waste it.”

  Her lips rise at the corners into a bright beautiful smile as she leans back and her chest vibrates on a small laugh. It’s pretty damn enticing. As her eyes light up in recognition, I can see the wheels in her head turning; I know exactly what she’s thinking.

  “Didn’t think I’d remember that, did you?”

  “I didn’t know if you would or not,” is all she says.

  The first time we tried, as soon as I ripped that condom open, the smell reached her nose and reality was history. That was the worst blackout I had experienced with her. She was in my arms in a matter of minutes with me reciting the words I’ve always had to say to bring her back.

  “Of course I remember.” I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for her to see I have a drawer full of condoms, but what else can I do? I’m not taking this journey bareback; perhaps a little explanation beforehand? Reaching over with one arm as I hold tight to her waist so that I don’t bump her right off my lap, I awkwardly twist my wrist and pull the dresser drawer open. “Okay so don’t flip out and over analyze this, or anything that you chicks do.”

  “You chicks, huh?” She folds her arms across her chest, covering a view I’d rather see.

  I pause for a moment. Am I putting my foot in my mouth again? I ignore that small technicality and go on, nudging the drawer all the way open exposing a shitload of condoms.

  “This is not what it looks like,” I annunciate my words dramatically. “About 90% of these are from Judd’s room… He had a ton of them after this past summer and well, they just sort of made their way into my nightstand.”

  Of course, I exaggerate the truth. It’s not like they sprouted legs and walked their way in here; I had a big part in that. It would’ve been a travesty to let all of these go to waste. Although now I’ll just need to pitch them all. I will never use a latex one with Piper again and as long as I have her, I don’t have a need for the others. She’s all I want.

  As soon as she chuckles and shakes her head, her usual reaction to my bullshitting, I relax my worry on inserting my size elevens into my big mouth. I don’t waste any more time. Quickly flipping my finger through foil package after package, my eyes land on the one purple square amidst about forty mustard colored wrappers. I dig it out and use the back of my hand to shove the drawer shut. Pinching the package between my fingertips, I can make out the raised, circular edge of the rubber as I hold it up before our faces and try my best not to look too eager.

  “Okay…” I stop, meaning to go on and tease her some more, but my mouth goes dry as every part of me becomes aware that this is going to happen. It’s almost an emotional overload, realizing that the first girl I ever touched, the first girl I ever felt this way about is right here with me now; naked. I glance down taking in all of her curves before my eyes go back to her face. I forgot how beautiful she was.

  “Okay,” she says so sweetly, interrupting my thoughts and disbelief on what is actually going on.

  Just like always, my brain and mouth get mixed up, “We’re really going to play hide the salami, aren’t we?” I say out loud, totally thinking it and not meaning to say it.

  Usually when my mouth runs wild, I have this instant reaction to slap my hand across my face and shake my head, but it happens so often anymore, I just skip that part.

  She laughs, “I think we are,” not skipping a beat.

  My smirk grows to a shit-eating smile as I keep my eyes trained on hers and the condom package between us as if all of this needs to be done at eye level, just in case she would decide against it. She doesn’t say a word, watching my hands the whole time; the quiet, subtle ripping of paper rises into the air and she still doesn’t look away or even show me the slightest sign that this may not go down today. Holding the torn off piece to the floor, I lower my hands to continue on my mission of practicing safe sex. It takes less than a minute for me to toss the trash back onto the nightstand and get the raincoat in place. Piper stays entranced the whole way. She says she wasn’t impressed before, yeah right.

  “Ummm, so…ahhh, do I…” she looks around for a place to sit or lay or go or maybe hide, but stays straddled over me.

  Placing both of my hands at her waist gently, I stay absolutely still. I don’t want to scare her off. Now that I’m sitting here, casually with my back against a propped up pillow that rests against the headboard, plus with my erection on full salute wrapped up like a present, it is all more than real now. This is gonna happen, but only on her go ahead.

  “Look…” I start up, shoving down all of my sarcasm, teasing and playfulness for just this second. I have no clue what she is thinking or what could be racing through her head. This was tough before, so it may always be a hurtle for her to jump each time.

  Placing her hands against my chest, I flinch at her touch but instantly stop talking. “No, don’t,” she says through heavy breaths that make me wonder if she may be beginning to have a black out episode, but I listen anyways; keeping my mouth shut. “I need to tell you something first. I haven’t done this with anyone; no one…since you.”

  My mouth falls open and a tidal wave of pride washes over me. All I truly want to do is close the space between us and feel her again. Only me; how? A million questions threaten to surface in my mind, yet I refuse to think any further than her words. I’m the only one; the only one.

  “Ok…” I say in a husky tone that sounds as if I badly need a drink of water. I smile, licking my lips and preparing all of my senses to be alert and fully aware of everything through this. “Come here.”

  She allows me to pull her forward, her breaths already gaining momentum as she nervously looks down and uses her knees to rise up a bit.

  “Oh…like this” she stutters out, looking down and back to my face all the while her chest is pulsating in and out with each labored breath. “Oh…”

  “Hey,” I stop her, ready to send the mothership into orbit, but I can already tell this position may be uncomfortable for her. “We can lay down if that would be better…I just thought this way, I can help and well,” I search for the right words, needing to be serious, yet easily wanting to spew out a smartass remark to balance out all the sappiness; of course I take the road less traveled at a time like this, “Show you just how this bull likes to be ridden.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth a goofy ass smirk forms across my face, covering the sudden thought that has crossed my mind. WTF is wrong with me; think before you speak, Evan, think before you speak!

  She shakes her head, all the tenseness beneath my fingertips and at her waist relaxing on that motion; and so do I. It’s not very often that I become aware of my non-filtered mouth, but when I do, I give it a rest for a while.

  “Seriously, we can do this a different way, if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

  “No,” she says slowly, moving her hands up to my shoulder and using that momentum to gradually lower down; I’m suddenly speechless.

  I know what I’m supposed to do, I should be helping her out, but I’m in too much shock that she is making the first move.

  �
��I’m a little scared,” her voice trembles.

  I immediately react, opening my mouth to speak, but she keeps going, easing down. Before I can even get a word out, a wave of heat, and lightning bolts of sensation wash over me. For a brief moment, as my head knocks backwards into the headboard with a clunk, my eyes roll back from the euphoric rush, and all I can wrap my head around is how damn good she feels…that is until I hear a sharp intake of breath and nothing else.

  Shoving aside the blanket of bliss that has fogged my mind for a second, I bring my focus fully to her.

  She’s down…on me, I’m in, ready to move and feel everything I’ve thought about for the past few years, but she has to be one hundred percent on board. I stare at her, gripping her waist firmly and holding her steady. Her eyes are squeezed shut and I can already tell she’s not here with me; her mind is undoubtedly floating back to a dark time where it does not need to be.

  “Piper,” I move my face forward, a breath away from her as I whisper, “Open your eyes and look at me.” She does, her lids peel back in slow motion, like a scared animal dreading the view of her possible predator. “It’s just me; stay with me, ok,” I tell her, speaking in a soft tender tone that I’ve only ever used with her. Once I have her attention, I hold dead still, even though I am being slowly electrocuted with a throbbing sensitivity in every major organ in my body and a burning desire to move; to thrust back and forth until we are both catapulted into a fiery coma of ecstasy.

  Her chest lifts, grazing over mine as she sucks in a gulp of air.

  Smiling, I start in, just like it was our first time again. Slowly and securely, I roll, using my arms at her back to brace her as I flip us over and onto the mattress. My hand stays at her back, keeping us locked together as I softly find a resting place with me crushed on top of her and our faces only inches apart. She keeps her eyes on me the whole way, still struggling to take a breath as if she’s back and forth between here and another time, and that’s exactly what is probably going on.

  “Piper,” I say again gently. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Listen to my breaths,” recognition sparks in her eyes as I speak, so I go on. She’s with me now. “…keep your eyes on me, watch my mouth…” Her eyes flick down to my lips as I keep talking, “…and Piper… Breathe with me.” I gently kiss her lips, softly, then lean back enough to go on in a soothing whisper, “Do I need to stop?”

  She shakes her head frantically, her breaths coming quicker as she looks from my eyes back to my mouth, watching each swallow of air that I suck down.

  With that, I go on, slowly pulling my pelvis back; she opens her mouth, heaving in another deep breath. I move at a leisurely pace, my body ticking with the need to push harder and faster, but I stay steady and deliberate in my pace as I pulse my hips forward. Her mouth opens wider and her eyes flutter.

  “Keep looking at me,” I keep going, back and forth, slowly and meticulously with my heart thudding its approval. “I breathe…” I place another tender peck against her lips, “…you breathe.” I look into her eyes and she looks back at me, a pool of passion and longing appearing in them, that signals me to pick up the pace; I do.

  I rock forward, holding tight to her body as her soft skin melts against me like a warm pat of butter. Another deep thrust and her eyes flicker shut as her head pushes back into the pillow on a whimpering exhale of pleasure. I start to speak up, to instruct her to open her eyes, but they do automatically and fall back to my lips. Unable to keep any sort of control for too long, I crush my mouth to hers, devouring her lips and tasting her as I move excitedly in an overanxious pace now, knowing the finish line is right around the corner. Her tongue and body moves with mine, her hips pulsating to the same rhythm that my body is rocking to as the level of exhilaration within me builds and builds to the point of exploding.

  Lowering my brows and pulling back to look at her, my abdomen contracts and stiffens, my biceps tense up and my ass turns to stone as I push forward one last time with all the zipping sensations centralized and releasing like a cork being popped off a champagne bottle.

  My vision flicks to her face, taking in her elated expression with her mouth still open wide in excitement before it blurs; I collapse, trying vigorously to replenish my air supply. Closing my eyes on a deep breath, my body vibrates in an epileptic-type shockwave every couple of seconds as I work to bring myself back to earth.

  “Whoa,” I breathe out, barely able to form words and my body ready to hit the hay, but a sudden, unexpected noise has me on high alert.

  I jerk my head back, startled and pleading inside that this didn’t turn out as it did so many times before. She holds so tight to me, clinging with her arms wrapped fully around my torso. As soon as my face is above hers, my fears are confirmed. I look down at her tear-streaked face and puffy eyes. Regret, pain and a truck load of un-relinquished sorrow hits me all at once. How did I miss her crying?

  She sniffles, her brows bowed and crinkled above the bridge of her nose.

  “Oh God, Piper…” I hoarsely say in a quaking voice that sounds as if it has just broken in two. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I would have stopped. I looked at you and I thought…” I ramble on, only stopping when she presses her lips to mine. I kiss her back, a soft, sweet, gentle kiss, devoid of lust and any sexual intentions.

  “Stop it,” she whispers through a weepy tone and another onset of tears. “I didn’t want you to stop. I wanted to, no, I needed to…” she trails off and the regret in my heart amps up.

  I’m not even sure how to feel about that. “No…” it comes out quickly before I have time to think. “I don’t want you to be…like that with me, because you need to move on or need to…” I nearly say the word fixed, but that’s wrong; I’ve never viewed her as broken. I rephrase it, walking softly on my words; a feat I didn’t even know I was capable of. “…listen,” I clear my throat and go on, “I think we should only do this if we are both one hundred percent sure, no doubt and most of all there should be no regrets afterwards…”

  “Oh, no, no, no…I don’t regret it…” She raises her voice, anxious to be heard and frantic to let me know where she stood through it.

  Furrowing my brows, my chest tightens. She may not regret it, but I refuse to do this if the end result is tears. In my opinion, if a girl’s crying then something hurt her, and I will not be the cause of that; years ago, every time we would try to get handsy and act out what most would consider a normal puberty-stricken and un-chaperoned teenage activity, nine times out of ten it ended with her crying and the guilt I felt from that was unbearable.

  I want to tell her that me going into that with the mindset of two people wholeheartedly wanting it, and her entering into it as a form of therapy or a means to get past that tragic memory, in a way it’s not fair to me. Her heart is in it, no doubt and it’s obvious that she wants me, but just like back then, sometimes I believe there is still so much healing that is needed; I don’t know how to do that for her. It’s something she has to figure out on her own, unfortunately.

  I continue to tread softly and compassionately over the subject, but there are some truths that need to be voiced. “I know you don’t regret it and I hope you don’t ever regret any time I’ve touched you because I’ve always tried to make sure and be absolutely positive that we were on the same page, but when you cry after I just get…” I stop myself, keeping my words respectful.

  Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I grit my teeth. What I need to say may come out as harsh and she may totally misinterpret it at first, but we need to be clear in order to move forward. It was a long road before, and after so much time there are sure to be tons of potholes in need of being filled before we can smooth it out, but we’ll get there again.

  I go on, deciding to say just what I’m thinking even though I’ll probably have to iron out the edges afterwards. “When I see you cry afterwards, in a way, it almost makes me regret it.” I move quickly, doing damage control as soon as the words are out of my mouth and as soon as
I see her eyes widen. She’s not mad, but with any woman’s overactive imagination, regret is not a good choice of words. “I do not mean I regret what we just did. It kills me to see that something that felt so amazingly out of this world to me could make you cry.” She keeps her mouth open as though she wants to say something, but I keep talking, “I know I’m always playing around and teasing, but you mean the world to me…” My heart pounds fiercely as I think about how I want to word that, knowing I should be saying something different; something I meant to say years ago to her. “It just… crushes me to see you hurt and when I think about what is in your mind when we are having sex.” A lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard to get past it. “…you crying makes me feel like I did something wrong,” I just spit it out.

  Her expression softens as she tips her head to the side and brings her fingertips up to my face, smoothing them over the back of my jaw up into my hair. The touch relaxes my anxiety and sorrow over not stopping earlier.

  “Oh, Evan, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I raise my brows, scrunching my forehead up and doing my best to mask all my apprehension and go back to my smartass self. “Wait, I know I didn’t do anything wrong, let’s just be clear on that. I said felt, but I know without a doubt I did everything just right.” Plastering on my best grin, I lean down and give her a quick, soft peck on the lips then nudge my head back to look at her. “You get what I’m saying, though, right?” I return to seriousness, unable to keep up my usual façade of playing.

  “I do…” She smiles, but a few small trickling teardrops bear as a reminder that tonight I may have taken it too fast; back to square one. “It was just an overload of emotion, I think.”

  Biting her lip, she looks at me as if she’s gauging whether I’m buying her excuse or not.

  “Well whether either of us like it or not there’s a lot of things we need to talk about. I can only help you through this if we’re open about everything and so far we’ve kept the door to the past pretty closed.” I shift subtly, the added weight of my raincoat making its presence known as all hysteria and thrill of excitement in my body dies down. I chuckle, trying to stay brutally somber, but also knowing this condom may very well be glued on by the time this conversation concludes.