The Stories We Whisper at Night

by Sky Corgan

  They call my section to board the plane, and it takes everything in me to stand. I watch the people pass me by, some smiling and laughing. Others holding briefcases, obviously traveling for business. People who will get on this plane and go on with their lives, oblivious to the service that Kit provided to their country. Oblivious to the loss. Oblivious to his death. The world short one more hero. It's a profound thing to think about. Something that keeps my feet from moving. Deep emotions have me standing there like a statue, knowing I won't be able to live with myself if I don't at least try to do for Kit what he did for me.

  I leave the airport and take a taxi back to his apartment, knowing it's probably a lost cause. More than likely, he returned to the cabin, and while I remember the name of his apartment complex, I have no idea how to get back to the cabin. Perhaps if he's not at his place, I'll go to his mother's condo next. Time isn't on my side, though. If he's as determined to kill himself as he seemed, it will likely be too late. But I have to try everything I can.

  As the scenery passes me by in the passenger window, I wonder how wrecked I'll be if I show up at the cabin and find Kit's lifeless body there. Already, regret is tugging at me. I should have never let him kick me out of his jeep at the airport. It would have been worth the fight that would have undoubtedly ensued just to know that he was okay. But I was so shocked by his sudden change in mood that I didn't know what else to do but obey him. There's no doubt in my mind that if I am too late, I'll blame myself for his death, even though it logically wouldn't be my fault. He would have unknowingly burdened me with the same suffering that he's been going through all these years. Would I hate him for that or hate myself more? I don't even want to think about it.

  The taxi driver pulls off of the highway into Kit's apartment complex. I don't even bother holding onto hope that his jeep will be there. That's why when I see it parked in front of his unit, the relief that flushes through me is so strong that I clutch my chest. He's still here. I'm not too late. I don't have to continue to worry and stress out about all of those horrible thoughts that were going through my mind.

  I hop out of the taxi and jog to his unit. There's a part of me that's concerned that maybe he didn't even bother going back to the cabin. Perhaps he decided to have a pill buffet from his backpack. There were definitely enough in there to kill a horse.

  I knock, feeling nervous energy zinging through me. I may be young and naive, but I'm not dumb enough to think he's going to be excited to see me. Right now, I'm just a roadblock to him. But I plan to stand my ground.

  He opens the door and seems genuinely surprised to see me. It only takes a second for his brow to furrow. “Ivy. What are you doing here?”

  “I didn't get on my plane,” I say, as if it wasn't obvious.

  “I can see that.” Kit crosses his arms over his chest.

  “I thought you were going to go straight back to the cabin,” I comment, my voice dipping from the sadness that thought brings.

  He doesn't respond but simply stares at me disapprovingly.

  “Can I come in?” I glance past him.

  He breathes out a sigh but steps aside for me. I inch past him, feeling him towering over me. Imposing. Intimidating.

  I can't even make eye contact with him as I muster up the courage to say everything I need to say to him. I've never been good at this kind of stuff, and he's definitely not making it any easier. After his mood swing earlier, he feels almost like a stranger to me. But I know that he's not. And being in his presence tells me that my feelings for him didn't go away just because he tried to offload on me.

  I steel myself and turn to him, hugging myself for protection from fear that he might yell at me. Whatever he has to say though, I'll take it. I'll endure whatever I have to until I get through to him.

  “You can't keep running away.” I lock my gaze on his chest.

  “I didn't run away,” he tells me firmly.

  “Yes, you did,” I insist. “You ran away from me because you were upset that I found out what you were up to.”

  “You don't have any idea what I'm going through—what I've been going through,” he snaps at me, making me sink back a little.

  “No.” I shake my head. “But I don't care what you've been through. All I care about...is you. Is that you're okay. Because...” I begin to tear up despite myself. “Because I love you.”

  “You don't even know me.” His words sting like the crack of a whip.

  “Then let me get to know you.” I force my eyes up to his. The way he's looking at me, like a wild animal cornered and ready to lash out, tears my heart out. “I don't care that you feel broken. I want to know it all. Want to see it all. Want to help you through it all. The good. The bad. The ugly.

  “You said I was yours, and then you just cast me aside.” I gesture for effect. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel?”

  Remorse takes over his features, and he shifts his gaze away from me. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to push you away.”

  “I know you were. You were running. But you were running in the wrong direction.” I cautiously approach him, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his attention back to me. “I know what you planned to do after dropping me off. That's running, too. If you keep blaming yourself for things that you couldn't prevent, then you're never going to heal and move forward with your life.”

  “There's no point in moving forward with my life,” Kit huffs.

  “Yes, there is.” I absorb the pain in his expression, and it makes my chest tighten. There's no way I'm going to let this man get away with killing himself. “Do you even understand how significant our meeting was?”

  He gives me a confused look.

  “If you had killed yourself back at the cabin even moments earlier, I'd be dead too. I'm only alive because you were there. You being alive made a difference. You saved me. I needed you, and you were there. How do you know that something like that can't happen again in the future? That you being alive could save someone else who wants to live.”

  He exhales, and the muscles in his face begin to relax a little, the tension melting away.

  “You may think that no one in the world needs you. But I need you. You are my hero. We still don't know each other very well, but I can tell you that we're both good people and that I deserve a hero. I won't settle for less than you.”

  “There's better than me.” He pulls my hand from his cheek and holds it in his.

  “Men don't get better than you, Kit. I knew that when I met you. You were brave. You rushed to my aid without a second thought. You took care of me with precision focus. Never once did I feel uncomfortable around you. You put my needs before yours. You were willing to freeze and starve so that I was okay.”

  “I wasn't going to starve,” he mumbles.

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him for being a brat about semantics. “The point is that you're stuck with me now. Now that I know what it's like to be cared for by someone like you, I won't settle for less. And for everything that you've been through and are still dealing with, I still want you. It might make me want you even more.

  “You saved me. Let me save you. Let me give you a reason to want to live. If you have no other reason, just live for me.” I press my head against his chest. “Please. Live for me.”

  The emotions inside of me are coming to a head and spilling out from my eyes. I begin to tremble as I feel the sobs traveling up my throat. Kit reaches to stroke my hair. Then he pulls me against him, clutching me in his strong arms.

  “I don't want to hurt you,” he whispers.

  “If you push me away and go kill yourself, you'll doom me to the same suffering that you've been feeling. A cycle of blaming myself for something that I feel I should have been able to prevent, even if I realistically couldn't have.” I inhale his masculine scent, getting lost in it. The conversation is so intense that I shouldn't even be thinking about my desire for him, but it's definitely there. Being pressed against him like this makes me want him. I wan
t to show him exactly how loved he is.

  “I didn't even think about that.” He kisses me on top of my head.

  “Well,” I gaze up into his eyes, “it's time for you to start thinking about someone other than yourself.”

  Kit's thumb trails across my bottom lip, and I see the affection in his eyes that I'd so been yearning for but didn't even know it. “Alright. I'll live. For you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  KIT

  Ivy is wise beyond her years. I know that everything she's said to me is true. I've been so lost inside my head that I haven't been able to see beyond to the outside world. Having her in my arms at the cabin was a small glimpse of everything I've been missing out on because of my grief. Will I really be able to move past it, though? That's the question.

  Most people would have gotten on that plane and never looked back. I was cruel to her. A broken man. An animal lashing out at someone trying to care for it because it's so deeply wounded, not realizing that perhaps that person is the only way to save it. She's seen the ugliest side of me. She had a chance to get as far away as she could—to find someone stable. Yet here she is, pressed against my chest. I can feel her little body trembling against me as she quietly cries. Her tears are for me—for what she felt like she was going to lose.

  It's never crossed my mind before that my death might affect someone else. My mom, sure. It's a mother's job to weep for her dead children. But over the years I've pushed everyone else away who might have cared. Become a recluse, perhaps to prepare for the inevitable moment when I took my own life. In truth, I'd seen my suicide attempt coming for years. I'm not sure why I even put it off for so long. Maybe I was just trying to punish myself for all those people I couldn't save. To endure as much suffering as I could handle until the weight of it finally pulled me under. Like those religious zealots who engage in self-flagellation to atone for sins that they haven't even committed.

  I know I'm sick in the head. I know I need help. But I've never had a source of it that actually made me feel like I was worth saving. Not until now.

  I bury my nose in Ivy's hair, inhaling the scent of my shampoo mixed with her own natural smell as I murmur my apologies to her. Knowing that I hurt her makes me feel like the world's biggest asshole. She didn't deserve that. Even if I just did it to try to protect her, she didn't deserve it. “Please forgive me,” I whisper, feeling my own eyes beginning to water. Fuck. I don't want to cry in front of her.

  “You're a jerk.” She curls her fingers into the front of my shirt before pulling away to look at me. “But I know how you can make it up to me.”

  “Anything, baby. I'll do anything for you.” I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb, sucking back my own before they have a chance to spill over.

  She bites her bottom lip, a soft pinkness taking over her cheeks. My gaze is instantly drawn to her mouth. That innocent look on her face has inappropriate things stirring in my mind. “Make love to me,” her voice is so small that it's barely audible.

  “Make love to you,” I parrot, taking a moment to process the words. It's like we're instantly in sync again.

  “I need to know that you care about me.” She draws near again, gazing up into my eyes.

  My need to love and protect her fills every cell of my body. “I care about you more than anything in this world.”

  “Then show me.” She stands on tiptoe to reach my lips, her eyelids growing heavy.

  I fist my hand into her hair, my mouth crashing down on top of hers. I'm pretty sure I was rock hard before our lips even made contact. That look she gave me has my slit leaking pre-come. Claiming her is the only thing on my mind. Fixing what was broken. I'll do it with my body. My heart. My soul.

  I hurriedly back her into the bedroom. She giggles and wraps her legs around my waist as I lift her up, then fall onto the bed with her. Her arms are draped over my shoulders, her mouth barely leaving mine as I grind between her legs.

  “Too much clothing,” she murmurs against my lips as she tugs at my shirt.

  I couldn't agree more.

  I stand to pull it off, and she watches me with a lecherous twinkle in her eyes. As soon as I toss the shirt aside, I'm on her again. If she's not going to undress herself, then the job falls to me, and I don't mind at all.

  I unwrap her like a present, my lips kissing each exposed patch of skin. She purrs from my affection, craning her head as I lick up her neck. I strip her down to her bra and panties before I finish undressing myself. When I go to drop my boxer briefs, she stops me, hooking her index finger into the waistband before pulling me to the edge of the bed.

  “Lie down,” she tells me, her seductive expression drawing me in.

  Everything in me needs to ravage her mercilessly, but I'm putty in her hands, wanting more than anything to give her what she wants. I stifle my overwhelming desire to dominate her and do as I'm told, climbing onto the bed and lying on my back.

  “You've done so much for so many people, I think it's time for a bit of pampering.” She crawls up my body like a cat stalking prey, her ass in the air, her tits filling the cups of her bra and drawing my gaze to her cleavage. My cock is tenting hard, throbbing needily beneath the thin material of my underwear.

  Ivy's hands trail up my inner thighs before teasing over my boxer briefs. She strokes me on top of them, feeling me grow even larger beneath her palm. A soft hiss escapes her lips. “This would definitely be a loss to the world.”

  “A loss to only you,” I assure her.

  “I'm sure I'm not the only one who enjoys looking at you.” She claws her nails down my abs, and I shiver from the slight sting of it.

  “I think you're just biased.” I smirk, tangling my fingers in her hair to gently pull her to me for more of her sweet kisses. I don't know how I'm going to hold myself back from being aggressive, but I have to try.

  I reach behind her to unclasp her bra, wanting to see more of her naked skin. She straddles me and allows her bra to fall away from her tits, and I can't resist the urge to sit up and suck on them, taking one swollen nipple in my mouth, then the other. Ivy moans, her head tilting back as her hands slide into my hair to draw me closer.

  I wrap my arms around her, overwhelmed by the thought that she's mine. That she still wants me, despite everything. This girl is fucking amazing, and I need to bind her to me forever. I need to show her that I can give her everything she could ever possibly desire. But right now, I just need to enjoy these moments with her. Enjoy feeling whole with her again.

  She places her palm in the middle of my chest and playfully pushes me back onto the bed. The mischievous grin she gives me makes my cock jerk. Ivy leans over, her hair tickling my skin as she kisses a trail down my body, moaning as if it's the best thing ever. Her hand strokes my cock over my boxer briefs until her mouth comes to meet it, licking the material before she grips the waistband and slowly pulls it over my tip. My glans is already slick with seed. She keeps my gaze as she slides my underwear down my legs and off the rest of the way.

  I know what she's going to do, and my body is practically begging for it. I grab my dick at the base, pointing it at her, and she descends on me, her tongue darting out to circle my tip before her pouty little lips wrap around me.

  My eyes roll as she pushes me to the back of her throat, her mouth making sucking sounds while she bobs up and down on my cock. I relax and enjoy the ride, letting her give me the sexual pampering she thinks I deserve. She gazes into my eyes as she sucks me off, licking down my shaft before pulling one of my balls into her mouth and rolling it with her tongue while she strokes me with her hand.

  I'm doing my best to let her have control, but the beast inside of me is stirring. When she takes me into her mouth again, I start bucking my hips, wanting to fuck her pretty face. Ivy moans, doing her best to keep pace with me. She's being cautious, pulling back when I push forward.

  “I think you can take more than that,” I tell her with a wicked smirk, tightening my grip on her hair to force her down wh
en I buck up. Her gag reflex goes off as I fill her throat with my cock. Tears come to her eyes, but instead of instinctively pulling back, she plunges down on me further, her tight throat squeezing my cock head. “Holy fuck!” I suck in a breath, feeling my balls pulling up and come shooting from my slit. Not a full load. I'm saving that for her pussy. But it's hard not to lose my shit when she does that.

  I use my grip on her hair to pull her away from me. A trail of sticky seed clings to her bottom lip. She's looking at me like she could eat me alive, which is making my cock leak like fucking crazy. I almost don't want to look at her in fear that she's going to push me over the edge, but I can't tear my eyes away.

  “You're a very bad girl.” I catch the wetness at its source and push it into her mouth with my thumb. She moans around the digit, sucking and gulping and making the heat level in my body skyrocket with the need to fuck her ragged.

  “Your very bad girl,” she tells me, wiggling her butt.

  “Get up here.” I cup her chin, drawing her to me for a kiss. She tastes like my dick. Like me. Pride surges through me to know that I linger on her lips. My scent on her body. I want to cover her with everything me so that every man in a ten-mile radius will know that she's mine.

  I grab her waist and toss her onto her back. She clings to me, her lips seeming to never want to leave mine. Ivy spreads her legs, hooking them around my hips, pulling me down to her. My cock aches as it rubs against her panties. I can't tell if it's her wetness I feel or mine. I need to get a closer look.

  I kiss down her chin to her chest, giving her hard nipples a bit more attention before I continue making my way down her body. My hands hook around her thighs, keeping them nice and spread as I descend between her legs. The scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, and when my tongue passes over the material of her underwear, I find them dripping with lust for me.

  I keep her legs spread as I give her the same teasing treatment she gave me, dragging my mouth over her engorged lips, denying her skin to skin contact by keeping her panties on.