I See You (Seeing You #2)

by A. P. Hallmark

  "Okay, let's," she says happily.

  After getting Conrad fed and watered, we set off to the local market where we fill the cart for a week's stay. I had only planned on a three to four-day visit, but Emma's instability changed that, and I fear that once the police release her on bail, she’ll come after either Joy or me in one way or another.

  After returning home, the big white elephant in the room is looking straight at me, and I need to get rid of it.

  "Joy, I was wondering," I begin, turning to look at her. She’s busy with her laser cane, getting familiar with where the furniture placement is, counting steps from one place to another.

  "Yes," she says, urging me to continue.

  "We are here for a week, and I was wondering if you would mind postponing our talk for a few days? I’d like to relax and enjoy our time together with everything we’ve gone through this past month."

  "I don't mind it at all. We’ve both been rather stressed, and it's not a bad idea to just decompress a little, right?"

  "Right." I can’t help but smile at her easy nature and continue to watch her maneuver the room with the aid of her cane. Turning it off, she tests herself to challenge her memory. She starts at the front door, counting her steps to the small living area. She then finds the couch and turns toward the chair. Calling out each piece of furniture, she then returns to the front door, making her way to the bedroom. In under an hour, she’s mastered the layout of the house.

  "Come here, Joy," I call to her. Turning around, she smiles at me, coming straight to me. I take her into my arms and place a gentle kiss on her lips. Reluctantly, I break away and feel her hot breath against my neck.

  "I need you, baby," I whisper, my breathing labored and raspy. When she steps away from me, my hands follow. Licking my lips as she unbuttons her blouse, as soon as she drops it to the floor, I hastily pull my sweater over my head.

  She reaches out, running her hand down my chest to my belt buckle, smiling all the way. After unbuckling and loosening my belt, she unclasps her bra at the center of her beautiful breasts and it’s difficult not to take them into my mouth.

  Cupping the soft mounds in my hands, I graze my thumbs over the hardened tips, watching them pucker with desire.

  When she unbuttons her jeans, she slowly unzips them, seemingly waiting for me to do the same. I oblige, and when she hears my zipper, she smiles, licking her lips.

  Here we are, standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but panties and briefs. Unable to restrain myself, I scoop her into my arms and carry her bridal style to the bedroom, gently lowering her onto the bed. The feel of her soft skin carries me back to the very first time we made love. Gently grazing my fingertips down her body, I hook them inside the lace waistband of her yellow panties, pulling them down her thighs and taking a long deep breath, I smell the sweet scent of her arousal.

  Tossing her panties onto the floor, I step out of my briefs and lower my body over hers.

  "So beautiful," I moan into her ear.

  "You make me feel beautiful, Matthew," she whispers.

  Lowering myself down her body, I stop at the center of her. Gently parting her thighs, my mouth is eager to kiss her there.

  Placing my hands under her knees, I bend them, opening her to me and shudder in anticipation of finally tasting her again. Slipping my tongue between her parted lips, I find her swollen and sensitive bud, relentlessly teasing it with light, swift flicks. Seeing the slick moisture pooling at her opening, I slip my fingers inside her, gently stroking her and her body responds by arching off the bed.

  "You like that, baby?" I breathe against her, trailing my tongue over her in one slow, firm movement, savoring every inch. Feeling her tighten around my fingers, I know she's there. "Come on, baby," I say, working my mouth and fingers, sending her over the edge.

  "Oh … please, Matthew," she begs breathlessly.

  Drinking all of her sweet nectar as she rides out her release, she lies flat against the bed’s surface again. She tugs on my hair, silently begging me to come to her, and I gently lay over her, touching her wet center, waiting for permission to enter.

  After burying my face into the crook of her neck, she twists her fingers through my hair, pulling my lips to hers. The passion of that single kiss says it all and as I thrust deep inside, her legs wrap around my back, melding our bodies together as one.

  "God, Joy," I growl into her mouth. "I … can't go slow. I need you."

  "Yes, Matthew," she says lifting her legs even higher near my shoulders. I quickly rise up on my knees, thrusting deeper than I ever thought possible. Her arms are outstretched and her knuckles turn white from grasping the duvet.

  When I see her head burrow into the pillow, I know she's ready again. Lord knows I am.

  "Let me hear you. Let me feel you come around me, baby. I need you to come, because I can't hold off any … long … er." Throwing my head back, my body feels its much needed release.

  "Oh, Matthew," she purrs.

  Covering her body with mine, I slip my arms around her and hold on to her like a life-line while I move long and slow inside her until she's completely sated. When I hear her breath shudder in my ear, I smile and know she’s satisfied.

  I moan, rolling us onto our sides. "I've missed you so much, baby."

  "It was hell for me," she whispered. "I'm so lonely without you." Her voice breaks, and she nuzzles into me, and cries.

  "Hey … hey, I'm here. I'm here now," I say, gently stroking her long hair that falls like heavy silk from my fingers. After her quiet sniffles end, I look down upon her face, "I was lonely without you too.” Rolling her on her back, I kiss her thoroughly. "I tried. God, I tried but I couldn’t do it. It's impossible."

  "I'm so glad. I thought it was too late for us. I had no idea what I was going to do. I thought about moving, but that would mean I would be away not only from you, but from Laura and Brian, too. And I've grown fond of your family as well," she says, stroking the hair from my brow.

  "Trust me, my family would miss you, too," I say, lowering her fingertips to my lips where I place small kisses along the tips of them. Holding her hand in mine, I tuck them between us and nuzzle her neck once more.

  “Let's go raid the larder, m'lady."

  "Mm, kiss me first, m’lord."

  After I thoroughly grant her wish, we enter the kitchen to begin dinner of grilled steak and baked potatoes. Joy busies herself by preparing a green salad, and again, I’m amazed at how adept she is in her environment.

  "I can feel you watching me, Matthew," she says while she cuts tomatoes for the salad.

  "And how can I not? You are beautiful with the glow of lovemaking still upon your cheeks, my fair maid," I say, teasing her.

  "I'm not sure that's the afterglow rather than naughty thoughts running through my mind," she retorts with a giggle.

  "Is that right, Ms. Johnson? What kind of naughty thoughts are we talking about here?" I quiz her, smiling at the bright blush that immediately takes over her cheeks.

  "Perhaps I'll show you, rather than tell you?"

  "Hmm, I'd like that. I'd like that very much," I say into her ear, running my tongue along the shell, sucking on her tiny lobe.

  "Dinner first … we need sustenance."

  "Yes, of course. I'm starving. I ran home to pack a bag and then to pick you up, not thinking we needed lunch. Then a beautiful woman flirted with me and got naked of all things, and I wound up with my pants off."

  "Really? What a hussy!" she teased.

  "A sexy hussy," I reply, playfully. "I'd starve myself every day just to be with her again." I press my lips to the tender place behind her ear and smile when she gives me total access. I feel a suspicious twitch and think of nothing but being inside her once again.

  "If we don't stop this right now, those thick steaks will burn."

  "Um … yeah," I say, feeling totally cock blocked. Turning, I hurry outside to flip the steaks while Joy finishes the salad. When I come back inside, she's at th
e refrigerator pulling out the apple pie I brought with us.

  "I only have one of those left at home. Rebecca put it in the freezer for me," I say when I enter the room.

  "That's a good idea. I'm glad you like them," she says, looking for the silverware. She searches the drawers and I search the cabinets for dinner plates and between us, we set the table.

  After a very delicious dinner, we clean up, and Joy suggests taking Conrad for a walk. Looking at my watch, and although it's just after eight o'clock, a walk for some fresh air sounds nice. We bundle up for the cool weather and head out with Conrad taking off in a dead run, sniffing all the new smells and making a few of his own.

  Putting my arm around her, I pull her close to me and offer her additional warmth. She responds by wrapping hers around my waist, holding on to me tightly for support. I find a comfortable pace and she adjusts her step to mine and as always, she adapts with little or no effort.

  While we walk down the mile-long lane and back, Joy tells me a little more of what she remembers from her childhood and her parents. I share a little more of myself with her as well, ending with a whistle for Conrad to come into the house with us.

  "I'll start a pot of tea if you want to get a fire going?" she says, turning toward the kitchen.

  Setting fresh logs over the flame, I hear her soft movements in the kitchen. She doesn't need my help with virtually anything she does because she's done perfectly fine without me for twelve years. How egotistical of me to assume that she needs me in order for her to survive without sight. She's done it half of her life, for God’s sake.

  The fire pulls me into a deep trance when a realization comes over me. I wanted her to see for my own selfish reasons only. It wasn’t for her … it was for me. I wanted her to look into my eyes. I wanted her to see the world. I never asked her what she wanted. Dropping my chin to my chest, I sigh. No wonder she's pissed.

  "Davis, you're a bastard," I scold myself.

  "Why do you say that?" she says, standing at the couch with the tray in her hand. I rise up to help her, setting the tray on the coffee table.

  "I think we need to have that talk."

  "Oh, dear," she whispers. She sits while I pour the tea. I'm nervous and don't know where to begin.

  Sitting back, I stare into the fire for a moment before I start. "Have you ever thought about seeing again? I mean, have you ever dreamed it could be possible?" I ask, slowly turning to look at her. I need to know her feelings on this since I've never asked her.

  She picks up her teacup and takes a sip, then quietly places it back in the saucer. "I used to ... all the time. It consumed nearly every waking minute. I would cry myself to sleep and ask 'why me?' It made me an angry person," she admits, contemplating that time of her life. "My grandmother was always trying to find ways to make it happen. She would talk about this doctor or that doctor. She studied homeopathic remedies and then started studying the extreme. That's when they opened my skull. That was the deciding factor for me. It was too much, Matthew. The pain was unbearable. The doctors had me so drugged up that I couldn't function normally anymore. I nearly became addicted to the meds they fed me. I had no control of my life because they were making decisions for me without consulting me."

  There it is. Why did I not see it before?

  I stare at her after she makes that last statement. They were making decisions for her, just like me.

  "What if you knew that there was a procedure out there that would work?" I ask, gauging her reaction.

  "Oh, Matthew, don't you know? They all work," she says sarcastically. "Every one of them believed it. I would sit and listen to them wow my grandmother, sucking her in with their big words and having an answer for every one of her questions. However, at the end of the day, I was the one that suffered. I was the one that they experimented on. They didn't care about me," she says with anguish.

  "Joy, I'm sorry you went through that. I really am. But if I can convince you, would you be open to it?"

  "Matthew, I've given this a lot of thought over the past few weeks. I've thought 'what if he's right? What if he can make me see?' But in the end, the thought of another surgery makes me physically ill."

  "I understand that, baby, but what if I have my research and procedure written in Braille for you to read and understand, would you be willing to do that?" I ask hesitantly.

  Again, she sits quietly, contemplating my offer. I can see she is at war with her decision until she finally gives in and releases a heavy sigh.

  "I'll read it, but please, Matthew, don't expect anything from me, all right?"

  "All right. I brought the binder with me. I had Krista send my study out to have it transcribed for you. Although there are years and years of research, I've had what I produced to the Center copied into Braille. It's still rather lengthy, but I hope it will answer any questions you might have," I explain, confident that she will understand the contents. "If you decide, after reading it, that you don't want to do it, I promise never to bring it up again."

  "Exactly what is the hypothesis of your research?" she asks.

  "That if stem cells are injected into the whites of the eye, they will take on a cone-like appearance and attach themselves to the retina, cleaning the dead or damaged photoreceptors, constructing new ones, restoring vision."

  I watch as she contemplates what I've said. "It doesn't sound invasive."

  "It isn't. Read my study, then I’ll answer all your questions, okay?"

  Again, she sits silently. I can almost see her brain churning.

  "Okay," she agrees, smiling.

  Well, that went better than I had hoped, and after we finish talking, I put on a CD from Jim's collection. I smile when I see some of the artists, because it looks like he's brought a lady or two here. There's Barry White, Frank Sinatra, Isaac Hayes, and a few I've never heard of before. I choose These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding. When the tune begins, I reach for Joy's hand.

  "Dance with me?" I ask. She gets up from her seat and instantly melds into me. This is more like it. I tuck her hand between our bodies, and rest my cheek on top of her head as we slowly rock back and forth to the soft melody. We just listen to the music, feeling each other, not saying a word.

  After the song ends, I tilt her chin so her face looks up at me. Her blank eyes look over my shoulder, but I can still see the golden color of them. Lowering my mouth to hers, I kiss her lightly, and then look at her again. Her eyes are barely closed, and she has a faint smile on her lips. I continue the soft play until the tip of her sweet tongue peeks out and strokes my lips. Watching her face change from playful to sultry, I take her full in my arms and run my hand up her back to her neck, her hair flowing between my fingers. I close my hand, fisting her hair, pulling her head backward further, giving me total access to her warm mouth. Her hands slowly graze up my back and anchor over my shoulder, using them for support to rise up on her toes as our kiss deepens. The only thing we can hear is the deep, heavy breathing, the passion of our kiss has caused. Finally, desperate for air, we slowly part, still clinging to each other.

  "Ah, Joy, what you do to my body." I breathe rapidly, my lips touching hers with every word spoken. She lowers her forehead to my chest as she struggles to resume normal breathing, her hands still holding onto my shoulders for support. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I close my eyes to the building desire inside my stomach.

  "I need you, too, Matthew," she whimpers.

  Hearing those words come from her, I clasp her head in my hand and hold her tightly to me. Like I've done so many times before, I quickly gather her in my arms and carry her to the bed.

  Both of us are intent on one thing and one thing only. After relieving each other of our clothing, I lower myself next to her. Gently stroking her hair, I remove a strand that is stuck in her long lashes.

  "Matthew," she whispers, “I want you.”

  Hearing her soft plea, I steal her words when I clamp my mouth over hers, thanking God, because I don't have it in me to go slo
w tonight.

  Pulling myself over her body, she immediately wraps her limbs around me and I chuckle when she uses her legs to pull me to her. Impatiently, she reaches between our bodies aligning my erection with her entrance. Raising her body to meet me, she gasps when I push completely inside her. A strong shudder comes over me when I withdraw slowly only to push into her again.

  "Oh, god, Matthew …" she cries as her desperate movements match mine. Looking down at her, she has her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Her body is trying to tell me something.

  "Baby, are you in the mood to fuck?" I whisper in her ear.

  "Oh, yes. Yes. Yes," she repeats with each thrust.

  With that last yes, and my last thrust, I flip her onto her stomach. Holding her shoulders down on the bed and raise her beautiful ass in the air, I realign my body with hers and drive into her.

  "Oh, god … yes … just like … that," she gasps. With her arms outstretched, she fists the bedding with each thrust.

  "Touch yourself, baby," I pant, looking down, watching my cock disappear inside her. She does as I ask, and I feel her fingertips graze along the length of me as I enter and withdraw from her. Covering her fingers with mine, I can feel her touch herself, which is fucking sexy as hell.

  "That feels … so … good," she whimpers between breaths. "Don't stop … please."

  "Christ, baby," I growl, knowing I'm not far behind her. Feeling the pressure building, there's no way I can stop now even if I tried. "Ah, fuck, now!"

  When she whimpers my name, I thrust into her one last time, emptying myself is her hips move against me, riding out her climax.

  "Damn, babe," I growl, feeling her muscles clamp down around me as she slowly rocks back and forth, teasing me.

  We both drop onto our sides, and I hold her back against my chest, still securely planted inside her.

  "I love you, Joy," I breathe into her hair.

  "I love you, too, very much," she returns. "Let's not ever go through that again, all right? We need to talk things out, and we can't do that if you are making decisions for me."