by Harlow Stone
“Fuck babe.”
He presses his lips to mine in a sweet kiss.
“We’ll find him babe, or I will alone if you’re not ready. This will end, Elle. I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I promise you one day, as soon as I am able I will make sure that this shit is dealt with. I promise beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-four
I managed a bit of lasagna and after the carb overload, albeit small, I knew I needed a bath.
My go to for calm.
I lay in the hot water with my soft tunes playing thinking about how it felt to get that off my chest to Ryder. I assumed it would have been worse, telling the story and reliving the emotions was as painful as ever. But Ryder's reaction to it is what I reflect on.
He’s an amazing man to handle me the way he did. Allowing me to speak when I needed. He knew when to put a word in, and when to be quiet.
A woman would seldom ever describe a man as perfect, or a man a woman. I think it’s ludicrous to even think it. People fuck up, people make mistakes and people take shit for granted.
It’s a part of life and one cannot go through it without these things and making many mistakes along the way.
Mistakes are simply that, a mistake. So long as you learn from it. When you make the same mistake twice it is no longer that but has now become a choice. Which, if it was originally considered a mistake then this would mean that it’s a bad habit.
Ryder is not a man who would make the same mistake twice. He has learned and lived enough that he knew exactly when and what I needed. Right down to rubbing my back, giving me gentle kisses, and soon returning the wine glass to my hand.
I don't drink to forget. I don't drink because I’m a drunk. I won’t lie, I have been. I once drank for five days straight; along with the odd pain med. Laura finally took the pills away because she knew I hated them, but added some soda to my next wine and told me I needed to tone it down before I died of liver failure.
That’s her.
She knows me.
She knew then that I would never in my life become an alcoholic, and anyone that said someone who drinks every day is one is a damn liar.
When you grow up in a household where it’s customary to come home and share a cold one after work to reminisce about your day, then quickly switch to water after dinner is not an alcoholic.
Have I used cigarettes and alcohol in time of need?
Absofuckinlutely.
Would I cry if you took my drink away and poured it down the sink?
No.
But sitting in the bath, reflecting on my life while gazing at the water, and having an extreme come to Jesus with a man I could love while having a glass of wine does not once make me question myself.
Some people like to knit; some people like tea, some people like to fuck their problems away.
I like wine, cigarettes, good music and currently a good rub down by a deliciously tasty man named Ryder Callaghan, who knows how to make a woman think about nothing but the act in which he is performing.
It’s time.
I get out of the bath and proceed with my own usual rub down of coconut oil. Getting everything on my back is a chore but I always continue with cirque de soleil act, arms bending in ways which they shouldn’t to try and tame the mess that is my back, in hopes that one day it will fade. The ridges have lessened and the color gone from bright red to a deep purple.
I lather from top to bottom on my front and put on my robe. I exit the bathroom to a quiet and dark house, minus the bedroom.
Ryder is sitting on my bed, shirtless, leaned against the headboard and concentrated on his IPad. He notices me the minute I cross the threshold of the bedroom and sets it on the nightstand.
He climbs out of the bed and pulls the covers down. He’s in nothing but his boxers and it’s all I can do not to jump him right now.
I need to feel him out first.
I make my way around to the end of the bed and he walks slowly to meet me there.
I look up at his beautiful face and hope I’m not making a mistake. I hope he doesn't think less of me and in a sick way I hope he still sticks around because at the end of the day, I do need his help.
I reach into the pocket of my robe and pull out the container of oil. I reach for his hand while maintaining eye contact and set it in his palm.
“I can’t promise you yet that I will be here next week, or next month. That’s not to say I don’t want to be, it’s because honestly, I don’t know. I’ve been doing everything on my own Ryder for a long time, and that's what I’m used to. Me, on my own.
“I can’t promise you anything, other than the fact that I’ll try.”
I close his hand around the oil and try to read his eyes. He doesn't give me much chance before he speaks.
“I know that Elle, you just have to know that I don't want you to have to do it on your own. And I’d like to be here to help you to do that. As much as you’ll let me babe. If the best you can do is promise that you’ll try, then I’ll take that. I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
He opens his hand and looks down at the product and back up to me, confused.
I need to clarify it for him. And I look into his eyes to do so. This isn’t a moment to be had while staring at the floor.
“The only other person in this world that has looked at me, at my back, was the doctor and potentially the nurse that helped him put it back together. I do my best to keep oil on it so that it doesn’t look so terrifying, but it’s not always easy, especially in the beginning with fractured bones and a dislocated shoulder. I don't like asking for help. I don't like to look at it, much less have anybody else do so.”
I take a deep breath and move my hands to the belt of my robe.
“If you do this, it’s not because I asked you for help. It’s because you want to. It’s because you don’t feel pity towards me, but you feel the need to take care of the woman that you miss watching drink coffee on her back porch in the morning.
“It’s because you want what's best for the woman who’s cooking for you and who calls you out on your shit.
“It’s because you want to, never because you need to.”
I loosen the tie on my kimono and let it go. It slips down my shoulders and onto the floor. I remain eye contact the entire time and, props to him, he doesn’t lose it either, despite the fact that I’m only wearing what I was born with.
Ryder sets the oil down on the bed and reaches his hands up to my neck. His thumbs caress slowly and he moves them up into my hair.
His lips descend on mine and he kisses me deeply. I open my mouth in invitation and he takes it with abandon.
No holds barred, nothing held back.
One hand moves down along my torso and he curves it around my ass before pulling me close to him.
It’s hard, but not rushed.
Gentle, but firm.
He pulls my face into his chest and moves his hand down the back of my neck. It slowly makes its way past my shoulder blades and begins to touch the awful markings that reach deep to my soul.
“Your beauty reaches deeper than these marks do, remember that beautiful. If you don't, let me know and I’ll remind you.”
I nod my head and he presses a sweet kiss to my temple. I can feel him against my stomach and I’m impressed with how well he can hold himself back.
“Lie on the bed babe, on your back.” he whispers into my ear.
I’m confused, seeing as I brought the oil in for him to do just that, my back. An offering that means more than my virginity as far as I’m concerned, but he halts that train of thought.
“Trust me babe, we start slow.”
He gives me a gentle nudge and I sit on the bed and, elegantly as I can, I crab crawl backwards towards the pillows.
I settle down and lean back, while he still stays planted at the foot of the bed.
Ryder leans down and grabs the oil while his eyes roam my body. I’m more toned than I used to be, with all the training t
hat I have done with Brock. To be honest its hard work well earned. It’s paid off in more ways than one and if the way Ryder is looking at me is any indication then I’m pleased.
I just hope he remains pleased when I turn over.
He puts a knee to the bed and climbs on, making his way towards me. My legs are stretched out, slightly bent at the knee and eventually he’s straddling me.
“Gonna start at the top babe, and make my way to the bottom. Then, you’re going to turn over and I’ll repeat the process.”
I have nothing to say so I simply nod and watch him remove the cap and gather the oil in his hands.
He rubs firmly and his eyes come back to mine while his hands move towards my shoulders.
His firm hands touch my skin and regardless of them being in a non-erogenous zone for me I break out in goose bumps.
He notices.
“Glad you respond to me that much beautiful. It’s the same for me with you.”
He says sincerely while remaining eye contact. I feel what he means and see it by the bulge in the front of his boxers as his hands move down my arms.
Every finger is given the same attention before he moves downward to my thighs and calves, completely ignoring my bare chest and center.
Many mewls and moans are softly let loose from my mouth and when he reaches my feet I’m gone.
Any woman that has ever been pregnant and lost sight of them will forever appreciate a good foot rub, and he doesn't disappoint. No toe is left untouched and when he lowers his mouth and begins kissing the arch of my foot with his eyes on mine I’m lost.
His fingers work deep in between my toes and too soon he moves his hands up my calves, under my knees and eventually they rest on my bottom. He leans down and places a kiss above my belly button, one to my chest and then settles at my lips.
“Time to turn over beautiful.” He softly says.
Judgment Day.
I hold his eyes and reach my hands up to cup his beautiful face. The scruff still there, the dark eyes staring back at me, and his thick dark hair falling down around his face.
“If it’s too much, or you can’t handle the sight of it. You talk to me or you stop Ry.”
I won’t be disappointed in him if it’s too much to handle up close. I’ll be upset, but that's a natural feeling in regards to someone that you care about seeing a part of you that you deemed to keep hidden.
His strong hands hold me tight while those dark eyes implore mine.
“I told you I’ll take it all, now turn over babe.”
He kisses my forehead and releases his firm hold. Letting me know it’s up to me. He’s still straddling my body and I take a deep breath, release with my eyes on his and nod before I turn over.
I may have imagined the low growl that came from his chest, or it may have been real. However the only thing I can currently feel is his lips at my neck and the continuation of them slowly making their way across my back.
His hands frame my ribs and his forehead soon rests at the center of my back, his breath is warm against it.
His hands don't move, his grip gets tighter, and for I moment I do fear that maybe, regardless of what he’s seen and been through, it’s too much.
“Ry? You don't have to baby.”
I softly whisper. I knew it might be too much for him. Maybe this was a bad idea.
His lips press firm and make their way back up along my spine, not sexually, just reassuring.
“I knew before you made me lunch the day I cleaned your gutters that there was no turning back babe. This doesn't change things” he says as his hand runs down my back.
“Just makes me upset, and makes me want to inflict some serious pain on the man who did it.”
He confirms as his hands continue their journey around the road map that has become my back.
He knows enemy number one is eliminated, he’s seen that in the files on the kitchen table, but he doesn't know how. Unless he was searching that on his iPad.
I feel the warmth of the oil connect with my back and Ryder wastes no time in making me forget the previous comment.
His strong hands work my body like no other before. Shoulders, hips, thighs, calves, and back to the top again. He reaches my hips on round three and if it weren't for the mess in my head I would have fallen asleep by now.
I feel the warmth of his lips above my ass at the bottom of the longest scar. It starts above the right buttock and crosses up to below my left should blade. His lips travel the length of it and when he gets to the top, he starts at the next one and works his way back down.
I don't know how much time has passed, a few minutes, an hour? But when I feel his hands turning my hips to roll me over onto my back I open my eyes.
Ryder moves so his weight is settled above me and his face is inches from mine. His hands cradle my head and his fingers sift into my hair.
“Met a lot of women in my life babe. Some good, some shit, and some extremely messed up. Not one person in life you meet is perfect, but Elle, I’ll tell you right now, regardless of what you may think of yourself, you’re the closest to perfect I have ever met.”
“Ryd-”
“Your beautiful babe, and not just because of what's on the outside, but because you recognize things in people that others don't. Because you know how to look after yourself without others having to do things for you. Your beautiful babe because regardless of what happened to you, regardless of the marks on your skin, you stick up for yourself and tell people, including me, how it is.
“You’re beautiful because you help old people like Mr. Clemens when he fell. And before you freak out and think I was following you, I got a hit on your name through the 911 call you made.”
I chuckle a little and he leans down and presses his lips to my jaw, working his way to my ear before he continues.
“I’m not here just because of those beautiful green eyes and your wonderful body babe, I’m here because I know that your you. And regardless of what other people may think, or regardless of the way people may want you to act, men included, you still remain the same person.
“That's what’s beautiful about you Elle, and I’m going to hang onto it as long as you’ll let me.”
He pulls his face out of my neck and I can’t hide the tears that have formed in my eyes. One sneaks out and rolls down my face but before it has its chance to reach the pillows, his lips catch it and the other two that follow.
Its time.
I reach my hands up and push them into his long dark hair. I pull his face away from mine and settle my eyes on his.
“Show me how well you’ll hang onto me Ryder.”
I whisper before bringing his mouth down to mine.
It starts off as a slow kiss but quickly turns heated when I press his mouth harder to mine.
I want him now, more than ever. This is not just lust; this is wanting to feel something deep with another human being that you have an intense connection with.
One of his arms snakes under my back while the other fists in my hair. I move my hands between us, down his firm hard chest and over the ripples of his abdomen before I reach his boxers.
No holding back, I hook my hands underneath and over his firm rear pushing them down as far as I can before letting my feet take over and pushing them the rest of the way.
He cooperates, of course, and kicks them off the end of the bed. I allow my hands to wander over his firm backside as his hands move towards my breasts. When his fingers meet my nipples and my hands pull his groin to mine we both moan out in unison.
“More”
I moan as his hands tease and pull, he moves his mouth to latch on as my hand moves round to his front.
I grab him and move my thumb over the tip and his hiss of breath does not go unnoticed. I move my hand further down and back up again as his teeth trap my nipple and he runs his tongue across it.
“Ahhhhh shit Ry!”
I exclaim and grind my core up into his.
“Say it again”
He growls against my chest but I’m lost.
“What?”
I rasp. Not knowing what he means.
“Ry, baby. You rarely ever call me Ry, its handsome, or Ryder. But Ry and handsome are yours beautiful. Say it again.”
He says as he latches on to girl number two.
His hands are everywhere and finally one sneaks down between my legs and he cups me while settling his finger in between my folds.
