Nocturne

by Andrea Randall

  “Gregory!” She called after I made it into the lobby, moving rather quickly for wearing such high heels. I stopped but didn’t turn to face her until she caught up. “Gregory,” she said again, breathless as she put her hand on my shoulder.

  “We can’t do this, Savannah. Not again.” I gritted my teeth as I faced her, shrugging my shoulder so she would drop her hand.

  She did, scrunching up her forehead, shaking it slightly side to side. “Do what?”

  “This … I … I—” I ran a hand through my hair and set it on my hip, barely able to look her in the eyes. I took a deep breath and continued. “Look, Savannah. I could very easily get hung up on you … swept up in you. Again. And, I can’t. That would just be … disastrous to my life.”

  “Again,” she said pointedly. Not really a question, but I sensed she wanted a response.

  “Yes, again. Five years ago we—”

  “Were in love, Gregory. At least that’s what you said. That you were in love with me. Remember?” Her bottom teeth pinched her top lip before she continued. “But, if you were just swept up then … I guess … that’s that.” She crossed her arms and stared right through me.

  I leaned in close, to avoid causing a scene. “Damn it, Savannah, I’m married.”

  “I know you’re married,” she hissed back. “I also know that I can’t stop fucking thinking about you. That the anger I harbored toward you for the last five years was just wounded love. It never went away. The pain of you casting me aside on your front steps and the bottomless love I felt for you. None of it has gone away.”

  Her voice shook as she vocalized the identical feelings I’d felt off and on over the last five years. I was in love with her.

  Still. Always.

  And, once again, there was nothing I could do about it. This time, it was killing me.

  I panicked and said something I never should have said.

  Ever.

  Still whispering, I said, “I suggest, Miss Marshall, that you find someone else’s life to ruin. Mine is off limits.”

  Savannah

  The words hadn’t even finished spilling from his lips before I landed my open palm across his cheek. He winced. I’d hit him with enough force he had to take a step backward.

  Despite my refusal to cry, tears fell. He’d just told me I was a problem. A distraction that could ruin his life. I didn’t care that he looked pained, anguished even, as he said it.

  He said it. I heard it. It hurt.

  “Jesus Christ, Savannah!” Gregory kept his voice low and measured. But I could see the red finger marks appearing across his face.

  “Breaking my heart in front of your best friend once wasn’t enough for you?”

  I knew it wasn’t fair to call his bluff on his emotions. Not now. Not when he was married. But, Christ, when you’re in love with someone, you tell them.

  You don’t make them feel like dirt.

  “It was for both of us—”

  I put my hand up. “We’ve rehearsed this scene before, remember? I know what comes next. I walk away.” With a trembling voice I turned on my heels, ignoring the gaping stares from passers by.

  Just put one foot in front of the other, Savannah. You’ve walked away from him once before, and you can do it again. Even if it kills you.

  Straightening my shoulders, I took two even steps before Gregory’s long, soft fingers tightly gripped my upper arm, stopping me in my tracks. I tried to tug it away without turning around, but in a second, I was spun around to face him. I only caught a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before his lips were on mine.

  Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pressed one hand into the small of my back, the other hand cradling the back of my head. Our mouths were open and our tongues searching each other’s before I had a chance to fight back.

  I didn’t want to fight back.

  “I’m so sorry, Savannah,” his voice was husky in the milliseconds our mouths separated. “I’m sorry.”

  The tears continued pouring from my eyes as I kissed back with equal force. “I’m sorry, too,” I replied.

  I didn’t want to fight back. I was done fighting against my feelings for Gregory. Thoughts of Nathan’s phone call from the car, accusing me of publicly flirting with Gregory on national television, thoughts of his wife on the other side of the country—they all fell easily by the wayside as I was wrapped up in the arms of the only man I’d ever loved.

  “Come with me.” The words were barely audible through his ragged breathing.

  Discretion was the furthest thing from my mind as he took my hand and rushed me through the lobby toward the elevators. Everything was far from my mind. All I was doing was feeling. And it felt good. An elevator was ready right away, welcoming us inside before either of us could change our minds.

  I wonder what would have happened if we’d been forced to wait.

  As soon as the doors closed, Gregory pressed the 7 before taking both my hands in his, his tired eyes alive with passion I’d missed for several years. Gregory slowly glided his hand up my arm and over my shoulder before wrapping his hand around the back of my neck.

  His lips were on my neck, and I threw my head back as I heard him rumble the words against my skin, “I’ve missed you, Savannah.”

  The elevator doors opened and we were moving, quickly, down the hall. The rational part of my brain screamed I was making a mistake. That Gregory would only break my heart again. That he wasn’t even capable of real love, and that the one thing I’d never wanted was to be something he got on the side. That he was married.

  And yet, I kept moving with him as he unlocked the door. He kissed me again when we entered the room, swollen lips on the side of my face, near my ear, murmuring words I couldn’t understand as I ran my hands over the expanse of his back and shoulders. My lips slightly parted as I tried to catch my breath.

  Without thought or volition my hands were under his jacket, yanking his black t-shirt out of his waistband and sliding up his back, my fingertips digging into his skin. Toned muscles that I’d seen move with the notes from his cello were now flexing beneath my touch.

  “Gregory …” My voice was a husky whisper as I lifted his shirt.

  He took a step backward and shook off his jacket. When he looked up I saw everything had changed. There was no orchestra, no tour. No classroom. No Karin.

  Karin.

  His wife.

  The harder I tried to picture her, the fuzzier her face became in my mind. Now was the time to stop if I was going to. To slide the shoe back on that I’d just kicked off and leave the room with as much dignity as I could.

  As if he sensed my hesitation, Gregory took a step forward. I placed my hands on his shoulders and we both took a deep breath. As we exhaled in unison, his hands slid down my sides and over my hips. My eyes closed as I recalled Madeline’s guest room five years ago. Dawn threatening as we had recklessly torn off our clothes and gave in. The way his muscles flexed underneath me as he held my hips. The way his arms had encircled me as he cried out my name. Watching his eyes as he told me he loved me. That’s where I ended my trip down memory lane, choosing to push aside everything that happened in the moments that had followed.

  “God, Savannah,” Gregory sighed as his hands slid down my backside. Now he was looking at me the same way. With the reverence I was certain he only held for his cello.

  “I ... we ...”

  I started to say it. I did. I started to say I can’t do this, or maybe, we shouldn’t do this. Or maybe what I started to say was I love you or we belong together. I don’t know which. The emotion washing over me was too powerful, too confusing to reduce to a few simple words. The moment for reason passed as his lips touched mine again, as our bodies touched, as his hands ran down my back and he pulled me toward the bed.

  Gregory

  From the moment she slapped me, the moment I kissed her, I knew I was lost.

  I stumbled through my apology because I’d been wrong to say what I said
. I’d been wrong to blame her. I’d been the one to ruin my life. And I hardly thought as I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms, as I kissed her, but I felt. I felt so much, so much that I’d lost since the day I let her walk away.

  And as I pulled her to the bed, even then, I was split, confused, my mind and emotions everywhere. It was as if I had a voice in my head, telling me this was wrong. But on a much bigger level it was so right, because I felt a passion for her that I’d never felt before in my life.

  Not since the last time I'd had her in bed.

  I closed my eyes as she dug her fingers into my back. It wasn’t the physical sensations. It’s that it was her. It was Savannah, the woman I loved, the woman I’d always loved, the woman I lost. And then it was too late for thought. I pulled her to the bed, laying her on her back, and she was pulling at my shirt, lifting it off of me, as my eyes and fingertips touched the delicate white skin below her breasts and our lips touched again.

  My fingertips slid along the base of her breasts, just a feather touch, but neither of us could withstand the anticipation. She reached out and pulled me closer, so we were holding each other tightly, both of my arms wrapped around her as we lay on our sides, my right hand cradling the back of her neck, our lips together.

  We were scrambling to make up for lost time.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and I broke off our kiss for a few seconds and stared into them. Brown, beautiful. I’d always loved her eyes. They watered, just a little, and she whispered, “I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

  My whole body shook at the words, because I hadn’t either. I brought my lips back to hers, and our mouths opened, tongues exploring. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of her body touching mine. Her breasts were warm and swollen against my bare chest, and as my left hand slid down to the curve of her back, she pressed her entire body hard against mine. My breath was ragged, and I was utterly overwhelmed by the emotion, the sensation, of having Savannah Marshall in bed again after all these years.

  She let out a small groan as my hand slid down to cup her ass, and I pulled her tighter, the pressure of our bodies together almost too intense to bear. I wanted her clothes off right then and there. We had a crazy, confusing, frustrating moment where our bodies were too close to each other to manage getting clothes off, and I literally had to tear myself away from her to get up on my knees. I kissed her as I felt at her back, trying to find the zipper for her dress.

  “Under my arm,” she spoke through clenched teeth, lifting her arm to expose the zipper.

  I unzipped her dress, loosening it enough to slide the entire dress up and over her head, and then I found myself sitting back on my heels, staring at her, my heart beating even faster. Her skin looked almost porcelain. Incredibly smooth, flawless. Like her.

  In that moment she stared up at me. Vulnerable, but strong. Here was someone who understood who I was on so many levels. Who I’d loved since I first laid eyes on her.

  Here was the woman I’d hurt, badly. The woman I’d promised to walk away from, because of worry about my career. And her reputation. The woman who I lost, because I didn’t fight for her. And even though she was right here in front of me, it didn’t feel entirely real; everything had the texture of a dream.

  But it wasn’t a dream.

  She reached for my belt, her hand pressing against me, and I groaned, closing my eyes for just a second. I eased out of my pants, and our bodies were back side-by-side again, and now I felt her skin against mine. I hooked a leg around hers, tangling our limbs, and slid my right arm underneath her shoulder.

  She brought her lips to my neck, just below my ear, and I involuntarily sucked in a breath. She continued kissing, down my neck, then to my chest.

  “I love you.” As her lips formed her words against my skin, my back arched and I let out a groan.

  The feeling of her breath and her teeth against my skin was almost unbearable. I couldn’t take just being next to her any longer. Nudging her back slightly, she raised her knees, allowing me to settle between them as I stared down at her. With her hair scattered around her, I wanted to drink her in. To savor every essence that made her who she was. Shifting my gaze to her eyes, I found them slightly clouded with tears. But she looked happy. Content. Right.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, taking a hand and brushing a strand from her face.

  “Always,” she whispered, sliding her hands to my buttocks, pressing her fingertips into my skin. Giving me unspoken permission.

  I shook my head slightly as I leaned down to kiss her. “God, you’re exquisite … ”

  With those words, Savannah let out a soft moan as I slowly slid inside her. She opened up her body for me and I was humbled by her trust, given everything we’d been through. Everything I’d put her through. Suddenly I wanted to touch her everywhere at once. I didn’t want a single inch of my skin to be separated from hers.

  “Oh …” She closed her eyes and rocked her head back on the pillow as her mouth formed around the word. My eyes traced along the smooth line of her neck, her jawline.

  “Mmm,” I moaned onto her breast as my tongue desperately circled her nipple, feeling it get harder under my touch.

  I moved faster, pressing my forehead into her chest. Beads of sweat rolled down my cheek and onto her skin.

  “Hey.” Breathlessly, Savannah grabbed the sides of my face and hunted my eyes, perhaps looking for answers to five years of questions. “Go slow. I don’t want this to end.”

  Slowly she lifted her hips, and lowered them again, teaching me how to move with her. I couldn’t look away from her as I waited for her to close her eyes again. She didn’t. I slid into her carefully, and backed out at the same cautious speed, watching her eyelids react to my motion. As I watched her reactions, my own body responded. Minute after minute I watched her as I felt every curve of her body move against mine. Making love to the only woman I’d ever loved.

  As if sensing my need for more, she dug her fingernails into my shoulder blades and grazed her teeth against my earlobe. “Roll over.” Intense authority tore through her whisper, and I complied.

  My view of her was paralyzing as we repositioned our bodies and Savannah straddled my hips. She ran a hand through her hair to move it out of her face, and it cascaded in careless waves over her breasts. Reaching up, I brushed her hair over her shoulder and let my hands slide down her arms, working their way to her calves. As she began to slowly rock, I arched my back in response. Trailing my fingers up her calves, her hips, her waist, soaking in every inch of her body. Committing every curve to memory.

  My hands reached her breasts, cupping them, my thumbs grazing over her nipples as I stared at her in humble worship. Her head dipped to the left, as she moaned.

  Biting her lip as she pushed harder against me, she commanded, “Harder.”

  I worked my fingers deeper against her breasts and she threw her head back for a moment, exposing her neck. I wanted more than anything to sit up and run my tongue from the base of it up to her ear, but feeling her hips circle against me kept me in place.

  I dropped my hands to her hips as she moved faster, with urgency. Savannah lowered her head, her hair falling down over her shoulder again, curtaining around my face. I leaned up on my elbows and kissed her.

  I wanted to tell her she was beyond compare. I wanted to beg her for more. Harder. My words failed me as I strung together a mess of inaudible gasps and groans. With a low growl escaping from the depths of my need for her, I grabbed her hips and rolled her to her back.

  “God, Gregory.” She swallowed hard as she lifted her knees.

  Sitting back for a second, I grabbed one of her ankles, then the other, and set them on my shoulders. She straightened her legs, bringing me even deeper as we cried out in unison at the raw intensity of the feeling.

  Savannah’s long fingers wrapped around the backs of my thighs, holding me in place, as I pushed harder and faster. The pitch of her cries climbed each time I thrust into her. Each time her nails dug harder int
o my skin.

  “Yes … Savannah … ah …”

  Her eyes closed tightly as she cried out one last time, every muscle in her body tensing underneath her glistening skin. She released her grip on my thighs, clawing at the sheets, balling the fabric in her hands as her back arched. Driving me insane. Watching, feeling her come undone, overrode my sense of self, and I was completely lost in us. I buried my face against her neck, a moan escaping my lips, as I felt her entire body shuddering against mine. My eyes forced themselves closed as my mind went utterly blank. My body spasmed against hers once, twice, three times, before I collapsed onto her, my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing ragged.

  Both of us lay there, gasping for breath. Our bodies were slick with sweat, and I leaned my head back and looked her in the eyes and said, “You are so fucking beautiful, Savannah.”

  “I love you, Gregory,” she whispered for the second time since we’d been in my room. The words hurt this time. Because I did love her. I’d always loved her. But how did I reconcile that with my life?

  I slowly and carefully rolled off of her, shifting so she could rest her head on my chest. Our breathing had finally slowed, but I could feel her heart beating against my chest. With one languorous arm stretched across my chest, her fingers curled up on my right side. My head tilted to the left, and if I leaned down, I could have kissed her forehead. I wrapped my left arm behind her and the fingers of my right hand intertwined with hers. Our legs were tangled, hooked around each other’s, and goosebumps sprang up across her skin.

  “Are you cold?” I asked.

  “No,” she whispered.

  But I reached down with my right arm and pulled the blanket up anyway. Darkness had long since settled in the room, though very faint light shone around the curtains, just enough to illuminate the hair framing her face.

  I was as relaxed, as calm, as happy as I’d ever been. Part of me wanted to drift off to sleep, right where we were. Which made no sense, because I didn’t like touching anyone when I slept. I never, ever slept touching Karin.