SAVAGE: The Kingwood Duet

by Scott, S. L.

  “You want me to what, Firefly. Tell me.”

  “I want you to make love to me.” When he starts to turn, I add, “I want you to fuck me, Alexander. I want to feel your cock deep inside my pussy, so much that you’re still a part of me long after we’re done.”

  A smirk slides into place. Leaning down and kissing me on the cheek and then my lips, he whispers, “Don’t you know, baby, we’ll never be done. You’re it for me.”

  “You’re it for me. I love you.”

  Slowly, he undresses me, my schoolgirl uniform replaced by raw, bare skin that radiates to life. Just like when I met him, he brought my soul to life. I’ve never been touched like this. He treats me like I’m the most beautiful treasure. He treats me like I’m his. And though I’ve said it before, now I know what it feels like to be his.

  Our connection runs more than skin deep. He fucks my body and makes love to my soul. We lie in the aftermath of our love, my purity destroyed in a blissful annihilation.

  “Promise me, Firefly, you’ll never leave me.”

  “I’ll never leave you.”

  “No, that was too fast. Don’t answer yet. I want you to think about it, and then answer when you know. When you feel it inside,” he says, rubbing my chest over my heart.

  I kiss him and lie back down. Rolling to my side, he covers me from behind, and I close my eyes, knowing the answer already. But I wait, because when I say it aloud, I want him to believe it.

  . . . Lifting my head, I feel groggy after sleeping and turn to see the time. Three hours. It’s almost ten. I see the bottle of wine and feel the frustration instantly return. I get up and use the restroom, my head still full of the memories of losing not just my virginity, but my soul to Alexander.

  I could break the top of the wine bottle. I dismiss the idea since it might put small glass shards in the wine. When I come back out, I see the floral dress hanging from the top of the bathroom door. I decide to change into it with no real reason other than I need a change in my routine. I put on a little makeup, keeping it light, and pull on a pair of wool socks. Grabbing the old hiking boots I bought on closeout from the shop, I put them on. I pull my hair down from the rubber band and fluff it. I won’t spend too much time getting ready or guilt will settle in and keep me here.

  Walking out the door, I lock the bolt and tuck the key in my jean jacket. Growly’s sign is glowing red in the distance, the “r” flashing as it threatens to burn out. It only takes a few minutes to walk down the street, but each step feels heavy. It’s these moments when I miss Shelly and Chad. Even before I met Alexander, we hung around mostly just with each other. Cutting myself off from Alexander has also cut me off from my friends. And I wonder how they are. If they ever wonder where I am or worry if I’m okay. I’ve never gone out on my own. I’ve never even been to a bar. I’ve never started my life over before either, so I go anyway, needing something to numb these memories crowding my mind and suffocating my heart.

  The music is heard from outside, so when I open the door, it seems the whole town has come out tonight. I hesitantly walk in and head to an empty barstool at the far end. I slide on top and when the bartender, a diner regular, spies me, he comes over. “Hey, Alice. Good to see you. What are you drinking?”

  Before I can answer, a deep, friendly, and familiar voice, says, “Get the lady whatever she wants and put it on my tab.”

  25

  Sara Jane

  Three beers in and I’m feeling the effects. Country music is something I would have never listened to at home, but here in this town, in this bar with the laughter, the dancing, and the drinking, I kind of like it. Eric leans on the bar next to me, a smug grin on his face. “Dance with me.”

  “I don’t dance.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s more relaxed and drawn out, kind of like the people in this town. Maybe I fit in more than I thought.

  “Go on,” Della says over my shoulder. I can hear the laughter in her voice. My boss at the diner is having her first night out since she filed her divorce papers almost a year ago. Like me, Eric sweet-talked her into stopping by for a drink. Leaning against my back, she whispers, “He sure is cute.”

  “Listen to the lady. I sure am cute.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Anyway, you’re not the first city girl I’ve taught to two-step.”

  “How do you know I’m from the city, country boy?” I lean on the bar, angling in his direction.

  “Well, I know you’re not from around these parts. I would have heard about you.”

  “I think I believe you. This town keeps tabs on everyone.”

  Della laughs. “Boy, do I know that.” Patting me on the back, she says, “I’m going home. One drink is enough for me.”

  Turning to hug her, I say, “You have a good night.”

  She whispers, “Dance with him. You’re young. Have fun.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Be safe.”

  “Will do.”

  Eric tells her good night, and then squints at me with a wonky, pursed smirk. I raise my shoulders and ask, “What?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Your eyes are like Pandora’s box. Full of intrigue and secrets.”

  “I’m not that exciting. I work and I go home.”

  “Home. The motel isn’t temporary?”

  Turning the bottle of beer around by the neck, I think about my slip. “The motel is not my home, but something that’s become a habit.”

  Leaning over just a little bit, he whispers, “Sometimes we’re lucky enough to have habits grow into more. You think I could ever become one of your habits?”

  “That’s very forward considering you don’t know me at all.”

  He takes a long swig of his beer, and then says, “I know enough to want to know more.”

  His niceness is tempting in ways that shouldn’t be for a girl caught in a whirlwind of unresolved affections for another. “You’re a nice guy—”

  “Nope. Let’s not go there. The kiss-off hurts my ego more than my feelings.” He pushes off the bar when a new song starts playing. “I like this one. Come on. Dance with me,” he says, his hand out for me.

  “If you know I don’t dance, why do you insist on wasting a perfectly good song on me?”

  The smile I’ve grown accustomed to fades. “’Cause I think you could use something to take your mind off your troubles.” The grin returns, and he moves closer, his middle against my knees. When his hands rest on my legs, I look down.

  Alexander.

  Coming here, to this town and to Growly’s, I thought I was escaping a life that consumed me. I left the chaos of that world behind.

  I thought. Feelings don’t let you forget. Memories are there to remind, to bring back the emotions you felt, still feel.

  “Give me a chance, Alice.”

  Take a chance, Sara Jane.

  “I’m gonna go.” I land on my feet and start walking backward. “Thanks for the beer.”

  Reaching forward, he grabs my hand. “Don’t go yet.”

  Slipping out of his reach, I smile. “I’ll see you around, Larry.”

  He laughs and tips his cap to me. “See you around, Alice.”

  I’m glad I came out. It beat sitting in that motel room another night watching bad TV. I push the door open and step into the cool night. It’s quiet out here, the gravel under my feet the only sound in the air. I shove my hands in my jacket pockets and look up at the stars as I walk. I’ve never seen so many. Stars like this don’t shine where I’m from. I wonder if they ran away to this town too. A smile creases my cheeks as my breath comes out in white puffs.

  I chalk up my good mood to the beer and company and continue walking and smiling like this is real life, like it’s natural to feel this good. I’m starting to feel like myself, the good parts finally starting to heal the bad.

  Looking down the highway at the motel, my breath shortens, my feet stop, and I stare ahead. I don’t need light to recognize the silhouette and that motorcycle parked out fro
nt. The stars provide enough light, and my body is instinctively drawn to him. Without waiting for an internal nod of permission, I start walking again.

  Alexander stands, his arms uncrossing when he sees me. I want to run into his arms and pretend none of the past year happened, but we both know that’s not possible. So my pace stays steadier than the beating inside my chest. When I reach the motel, his face comes into view. Those blue eyes I love so much trained on me as if I had the strength to run away twice.

  “Alice?”

  I turn back, and Eric is jogging toward me. No. No. No. No.

  “Sara Jane?”

  Closing my eyes, I don’t know what to do. When I open them, I head back to Eric. I’ve got to make him leave. Alexander won’t understand, just as Eric doesn’t now. He looks over my shoulder at Alexander when he approaches. “I wanted to make sure you made it back safely.” Nodding in Alexander’s direction, he asks, “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m working all day.” His eyes narrow, not satisfied, my nonchalance not believable. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I plaster on a fake smile I’ve mastered and am about to placate him when we both hear, “She’s fine.”

  Shit. Pleading with my eyes, my tone reflects my panic as the words rush out, “I’m good. I promise.”

  I hear the crunch of the rocks under Alexander’s boots. “Go back to the bar and mind your own business.”

  Eric’s eyes dart from me to Alexander and back again. Time ticks like the rush of blood with each heartbeat. When he steps closer, panic rises inside and is reflected back in his eyes. “My name’s not Eric. It’s Jason, and I’m not from anywhere near here.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because if you’re not here tomorrow, if I never see you again, I want you to know my real name.” When he speaks, my breath halts in my throat. I can feel Alexander within a few feet of me, but I don’t look back. Not yet. Jason continues, “We’ve all come here to escape something. You can stay. We can go somewhere else. You don’t have to go back. I can help you.”

  Good. He’s so good. Looking into the comfort of his eyes, maybe I should have taken that offer for the dance. But standing between the two of them, I will always choose Alexander. “I may have been escaping but it wasn’t from him. He won’t hurt me.”

  Jason stares into my eyes, and when he finds what he’s looking for, he glances back at Alexander. I see the relief in his forehead as the lines smooth. The war was over long before this battle ever began. He’s knows which side I’m on without having to ask. “Okay.” He acknowledges Alexander with a nod, then says, “Take care of her.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look back over my shoulder at Alexander. He’s staring at Jason, but there’s no animosity. An understanding passes between two men who appear to be on the same side. The name feels foreign, and makes him vulnerable, but he trusted me with it, so I give him the same respect. I exhale, and say, “Take care of yourself, Jason.”

  “I always do.” He shrugs, gives me a wink, and heads back to Growly’s.

  When I face Alexander, his arms—the arms I’ve missed each night as I’ve gone to bed—go out wide, and I embrace him fully. Home. The tears come easily and I break down under the stars I was too blind to see before tonight. Letting my love pour out, I say, “I love you.”

  Whispering into my hair, he kisses my head, and says, “I know, but do you know how much I love you?”

  Leaning back, I nod. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

  “Don’t be. I was proud of you.”

  “You were?”

  “It was a long time coming.”

  The wind picks up along the deserted highway, and I shiver. “Want to come in?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “I do.” I take his hand and we go in together. He looks around the small room, a disapproving expression coating his handsome face. He’s nice enough to not voice his real feelings on the matter.

  I shut the door and lock it. “It’s not the manor.”

  That makes him laugh. “You got out.”

  Tossing the keys on the dresser, I sit on the edge of the bed. “I took a break. That’s all, Alexander.”

  “You could have taken me with you.” He leans against the dresser and looks right at me. “Or was I what you were taking the break from?”

  “It wasn’t because of you. You were the only thing keeping me there anymore.”

  “What about school?”

  Swallowing my disappointment and the credits I’ll lose, I reply, “It’s just a break.”

  “What about that guy outside? You can tell me, Sara Jane.” Not Firefly. “I’ll still love you. Is he just a break too?”

  “He’s nothing.”

  “He seemed to really care about you for someone who’s nothing.”

  I stand and walk to the dresser, leaning against it with space between us. “I’ve been here a month, and I just learned his name today. So when I say he’s nothing, I mean it. He’s just a nice guy caught up in my mess.” I step closer. “I expected you sooner.” I hoped deep down.

  His eyes focus on mine, trying to read my thoughts. “I didn’t know if you wanted to be found.”

  “I’m still not sure.”

  “You don’t have to be. I just needed to know you were okay.”

  His heart was always bigger than the both of us. I close the distance and lean my head against his chest, our arms remaining by our sides. Raising my hands, I rest my palms on the front of his shirt, inside his leather jacket. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” His response comes quickly, then he holds me, and kisses the top of my head. “Not without you, so you need to tell me how long this break is going to last, or if I need to come to terms with losing you forever.”

  I lean back, the passion I always felt for him in full effect. “Can you? Can you come to those terms? Because I can’t. Not when it comes to losing you.”

  “I told you once that there is no one else. You’re it for me. So if this break turns into forever, I’m not moving on like you didn’t change my life.”

  Lifting up on my toes, I kiss the lips I’ve missed so much, the lips that speak words of love and forever so naturally with me. Those soft kissable lips that embrace mine, showing me that I’m his whole world. And he kisses me back telling me I am his. Forever.

  I take hold of the opening of his jacket and work it down over his shoulders. He does the same with mine. Our lips separate, but we remain silent, not using words to express our love, but our bodies. I take my boots and socks off, then start on the buttons of my dress. He pulls his shirt and undershirt off.

  It’s only been a month, but my memories of his perfection weren’t doing me justice. I follow the lines that carve into his stomach, highlighting his ab muscles and the top of a V that trails down to ecstasy. His biceps are cut, all his muscles more defined. Standing with my dress open in the front, I release the buttons to run my fingers over him. Valley to peak, each muscle is distinct and hard. He says, “I’ve been working out in my free time.” His voice is huskier, the air between us thickening,

  “You sure have,” I reply with a grateful grin. His skin is firm and smooth, beautiful like him. I move to kiss his chest, but when his scent—soap, leather, and the open road—infiltrates my senses, I press my tongue against him and taste him instead. My dress slides from my shoulders and puddles around my ankles, the rough pads of his fingertips scraping against my skin. I welcome the damage. I welcome him back—the beautiful torture to my soul, the miniscule demarcation between pain and hope, the desire that only comes from him and for him.

  With his palm flat to my belly, his fingers dip below the lace of my panties and takes what he knows is his. He’s not gentle or rough but somewhere in between, a lot like us. Moisture coats his fingers, and he smirks. “So wet. So wet for me, baby.”

  “I’ve missed you touching me.”

  �
��I’ve missed being inside you.” His thumb finds my clit and teases.

  Watching my chest rise and fall, his hand abandons me and his belt is undone. I pull the leather loose and drop it to the floor. Together, we strip the rest of our bodies till we’re naked, standing in front of each other, bodies exposed, souls bared.

  I move to the bed, not shy or embarrassed to be followed by his watchful gaze. Folding down the blanket, I lie on top of the sheets while he waits for me to settle. When my eyebrows cinch together, he comes over and sits on the bed next to me. “You’ve changed, Firefly.”

  My heart soothes from hearing my name from his lips once more, taking immense pleasure in its comfort. But then the statement creeps into my insecurities, revealing my anxiety. “I’ve lost weight. Do I look bad?” I ask, bringing my knees up to my chest, and hiding myself. What if he doesn’t find me attractive anymore?

  “No,” he says with such confidence while loosening my arms and spreading me open again slowly. “You’re beautiful, although you didn’t need to lose weight.”

  “I didn’t on purpose.”

  “That’s what worries me.” Leaning down, he kisses my chest, and then sits back up. “I was going to say you’re softer around the edges. Your eyes, your reactions, the way you carry yourself. Is that what I did to you? Did I make you hard?”

  “You made me come alive.” Taking his hand, I bring it to my breast. “Make me feel that way again, Alexander.”

  He stands, goes to the bathroom, flips on the light, returns to my side, and turns the lamp off. The room is now dim, but we’re left with enough light to see each other’s intentions. I move away from the headboard, and he levels himself next to me.

  I admit, “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be, baby. It’s me, just me and you.” Alexander caresses my cheek and kisses me lightly. My body reacts as my mind welcomes him back. Our kiss deepens, and I wrap my hands over his shoulders. His hand slides to my chest. Lightly pinching my nipple, a moan follows before I even realize it came from me, so easily from his touch. With a roguish smile turning me into putty, he moves lower and takes my nipple into his mouth while I run my fingers through his hair. “You’re so beautiful.” Moving on top of me, he aligns until the tip of his cock is touching my entrance. He kisses my jaw and my lips again and whispers, “I love you so much,” and presses into me.