THREE-DAY RULE. EVER HEARD of it? It’s when a date waits three days to call you. To make themselves feel like they have the power. They don’t want to look too eager. Well, this can go for fighting as well. But my limit is three mother truckin’ days. And he has hit his max. I am Christina mother flippin’ Daniels. Like my effort to quit swearing? I recommend hours of Disney channel for word replacements.
Back on track, I was playing nice. I was calling to plead and beg for his forgiveness. But now? Nope. He will come to me. I’m done chasing after him. I am, after all, a woman, and we can only beg so much, not including bedroom fornicating.
Ha ha. I said fornicating.
So, as the infamous saying goes, all’s fair in love and war. Therefore, I call Patti and ask her if she can take Pippa again after school. She, of course, agrees. I ask to speak to Henry next. He’s not as easily persuaded to fulfill my second request, but he gives in, if only because Patti is in the background threatening meatloaf the rest of the week if he doesn’t agree. Patti convinces him that it’s totally acceptable behavior if the end result is true love. Oh, Patti. We are hugging in spirit right now. I hang up and get to work.
Two hours of primping, shaving, plucking and scrubbing, I’m ready to go. Right on schedule, I hear the front door crash open and slam slut, and then Ian’s shouts erupt through the living room.
“Chrissy! Pippa!” His shoes smack the floor as he sprints down the hallway. He bursts into my bedroom where I’m waiting for him. “What happened? Are you okay? Where’s Pippa?” he blurts out all at once, his gaze searching the room for her.
“She’s at school,” I say, waiting for him to stop frantically searching and focus on the bait.
“But Henry said he heard a distress call coming from this address.” He looks at me.
Then he looks down.
And back up.
“What’s going on here, Chris?” He’s now sounding less worried and a wee bit angry.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why did Henry tell me someone broke in and why are you standing here looking just fine in . . . in that?” He has to choke out the last word, pointing at my attire.
If you want to know what that is, it’s black thigh-high stockings, a matching thong and a barely there bra. AKA bait.
“Because I needed you to talk to me.” Uh oh. Losing focus.
“So, what, you set me up? You had Henry lie for you?” His angry face tells me he’s not impressed with my tactics. “You are something else,” he spits out and turns to walk away.
“Wait!” I run after him and grab his shoulder.
He whips around. “You really got me there. Pulling one trick after another. Well, you win. You can completely deceive me and it looks like I’ll still run to your rescue. You win. Point proven.”
Totally wrong point.
I jump in front of the doorway, blocking him. “That’s not why I did it. You wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t know what else do to.”
“So pretend there’s an emergency? I thought you were hurt,” he snaps back.
“I am hurt,” I reply somberly.
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
“Here.” I point to my heart. “All in here. I didn’t lie to you, but I know I didn’t tell you the whole truth either. I swear, though, I’m not engaged, and I wasn’t when we started this either.”
“I hate to break it to you, but your fiancé thinks otherwise. Maybe you should go work it out with him.” He moves forward to nudge me out of the way.
Again with the exit attempts.
I plant my feet, refusing to move. “Just listen to me. That’s why I always brushed you off or avoided what was going on between us. I couldn’t do it knowing where I stood back home. After our fight in the closet, I left. I went home. You had me so confused I needed to clear my head and figure out what to do. I mean, come on, the last person I expected to see when I came here to bury Amy was you.” I pause to catch my breath. “Seeing you turned my world upside down. And no matter what I did to try to avoid you or ignore what I was feeling, I couldn’t. My heart wanted you.”
Ian’s glaring at me, his chest puffing in and out. “So you just went home and broke it off?”
“Yes. Well, kind of. I went home and found him in bed with a set of twins. Then I broke it off.”
“Oh, so it wasn’t for me. It was because he was cheating on you.” His anger is back. I’ve lost the progress I’ve made, and he takes a step sideways, ready to leave.
“Listen to me!” I push at his chest to back him away from the door. “Brent can sleep with every woman in California. He can have an orgy for all I care. My heart belongs to you and it always has. I’ve accepted guys into my life, but no one else has ever touched my heart. No one ever, except you. If catching Brent cheating hadn’t sent me running back into your arms, then it would have just taken time. And by time, I mean days, hours, minutes. I was a mess of emotions. I knew I was done for the moment I woke up to you holding me. I just knew it. I just needed time to work it all out in my head.”
The angry creases in his forehead are starting to smooth. I think he gets it. And I don’t think he expected such an award-winning speech from me either.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Chris?”
“Because I was being selfish. I was having too much fun playing whatever game we were playing to worry about the reality of it all. My sister just died. I found out I had a niece. And you, you were back in my life. At what point did I have time to stop and say, hey, before we fall deeply in love again, I was engaged for a short time?”
“What do you mean short? How long were you engaged?”
“Huh? Um, I don’t know, less than a week?”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, Ian, if you had given me the chance to explain, you would know that. Brent practically just gave me the ring and before I could say no thanks, I got the call about Amy and left.”
Thank you, baby Jesus. I finally witness the fight start to fade in his eyes.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me, Chrissy, because I swear to God, I can’t handle another blow like that.”
“No, I swear. That’s it,” I reply confidently.
Looking torn, he thrusts his fingers through his hair. “So I assume this is all for me then?” He gestures at my outfit. That fiery look in his eyes may be beginning to be from another cause.
“Yes. All for you,” I reply, a hint of coyness in my voice.
He gives me one good look over. His eyes are glazing over and I recognize the moment he surrenders. He sweeps me off my feet, wasting no more time and wraps my eager legs around his waist. “Thank God,” he growls, “because dammit, I’ve missed you.”
And then we’re off as our lips collide in the best make-up kiss known to man. And if you’ve ever kissed someone and it’s so glorious it practically numbs your toes, then you will know what that feels like.
“I thought just when I had you back, I’d lost you again,” he confesses, kissing my jaw then back to my mouth.
“Never. I’m all yours,” I declare, grabbing his face to give me what I need. His mouth. His heart.
We both spill onto the mattress while his tongue explores every inch of my mouth. God, he is so good with that thing. I bet he has a shelf at home full of awards. Kissing awards. Why am I thinking about Ian winning awards kissing other women?
Focus!
I claw my fingernails down his back, then glide them back up, threading my fingers through his thick hair. I clutch at him. I’m so turned on you can practically smell my arousal.
Ian is in no better shape than I. He rips free of my lips to place his greedy mouth over my lace-covered breast. His teeth scrape and bite my nipple through the fabric, sending me deeper into a crazed sexual frenzy. His suckling is as frantic as I feel. He yanks aside the thin barrier between us, and I moan as his lips close around my bare flesh.
With every lick, I moan more, urging him on when he devours one nipple and pinches the othe
r. I push my hips upward into his very hard erection, grinding against him. He groans, releasing my nipple and finding my mouth with his.
“I need you, Chrissy. God, I need you.” He nips at my lips, sucking on my neck, moving even lower until he finds the hollow just above my collarbone. I feel the pressure of his mouth build and I know he’s leaving his mark. “You’re mine.”
“Promises. promises,” I pant. “No time like the present to show me.”
His feral growl confirms there’s no need to beg. He’s on a mission. He sits up quickly and rips his shirt clear off. Um, hello! My vagina just clapped. The determination in my eyes can’t be missed as he stands, reaching into his back pocket for protection. He discards his jeans as fast as humanly possible and slides on the condom. He then proceeds to rip my panties clear off. The next thing I know, he’s on top of me again and granting my wish.
With one powerful thrust, he’s inside me, hitting the deepest part of my core. He pulls out almost all the way, just to crash home again, sending my eyes rolling toward the back of my head. If this is what Heaven feels like, then seriously kill me. Quick and hard, he thrusts and thrusts until my insides begin to clamp around his huge cock and in unison, we are both flying. My nails scrape down his slick back as I let go and my orgasm explodes through me. I’m clenching around him, and one last final push sends him over the edge, allowing his own release.
Ian’s tensed position breaks and he falls on top of me. We’re both breathing unevenly and I hope he hasn’t blacked out because his heavy body might become an issue.
“Am I dead?” I hear him mumble from the crook of my neck.
“I have no idea. I’m not fully conscious.” I can’t seem to open my eyes. I still feel the pressure of that mind-blowing orgasm and I think it momentarily blinded me.
Ian lifts up, placing his elbows on each side of my ribcage for support. I miss the contact, but I am thankful to be able to breathe. He waits for me to make eye contact with those shiny greens and when I do, I feel my heart flutter.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t need to. His beautiful eyes say it all.
In those shining greens, I see love, understanding, and let’s not forget lust. It’s all there.
Needless to say, I think he forgives me.
I COULD LIE IN this bed forever. As a matter of fact, I plan on doing it. When you find your heaven, you certainly don’t attempt to leave it. My head is on Ian’s chest and I’m listening to the strong beat of his heart while he plays with my hair.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, anything,” I respond.
“Why did you start going by your full name?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“Christina. I heard him refer to you as Christina. And that wasn’t the first time. When I spoke to Henry about contacting you, he said you went by Christina now. Why?”
That random question came out of left field.
“Um . . . well, I guess when I got to California, I wanted a fresh start. I didn’t want to be the person I left behind, so I thought by losing a name that was me, and using one that was never tarnished, it was a fresh start.”
I remember meeting Lexi on one of my first lonely nights in California. A night I may never truly banish from my memory. If anything, she’s stayed consistent to her flamboyant personality, because no matter what shape I looked like that night, she was still yelling and yapping about some crazy nonsense. Her over-the-top personality struck me as strange at first, but with her not-a-care-in-the-world attitude and no reference to my disheveled self, I took a bit of comfort in it. After a solid forty-five minutes of her doing all the talking, she asked me what my name was and out of left field, I blurted ‘Christina.’ And I’ve used it ever since.
“Chris, your name was never tarnished, why would you say that?”
“Ian, every time my name was used, it was followed up with ‘you worthless little brat,’ or ‘I wish I never had to see your face again.’ Yeah, Ian, it became tarnished.”
“I remember whispering your name while kissing you and feeling my life was perfect. I also remember screaming and laughing your name when we would play tackle football in the back of the school field and you wouldn’t even bother paying attention to the game, once the whistle blew, you would just come straight at me and tackle me.”
That memory makes me smile. “That’s because I wanted any reason to be touching you. And at the age of sixteen, that’s all I wanted to do,” I finish, laughing.
“I also remember the first time I asked you what your name was and you refused to give it to me.”
This settles my giggles. I remember too. “That’s because I didn’t know why you were talking to me. And I thought you were pulling a prank on me.”
“And remind me again why?” he asks, laughing, holding me more tightly.
“Oh, you know. I thought someone was putting you up to it as a dare. I was only a freshman and you were a junior; it’s like, unheard of for people to talk to freshmen, and ratty-looking ones at that.”
He laughs softly. “You weren’t ratty. You were shy and kept to yourself.”
“Sounds like just a nicer way to say ratty if you ask me.”
“Whatever you say. What I remember is the moment you looked at me with those eyes. They looked so mysterious. Like you held the secret to all the world’s problems and just wanted to find the right person to share it with.”
Ha! At that, I laugh. “Ian, I was trying to ditch class, and you caught me in the cafeteria kitchen about to open the employees’ door. I think I looked more like a deer in headlights about to get myself detention.”
“Well then, you were lucky it was me who caught you.”
I sit up and catch that glimmer in his eyes. “I guess I was.” And I truly was. I was on my last strike with the office and if I was caught by anyone who gave a crap about their hall monitor duties, I might have been finishing my high school education at a GED center. Luckily for me, Ian not only helped me out the door that day, but went with me. We walked to the high school park, and sat and talked about anything and nothing. He never asked anything too personal or too deep. He never questioned my clothes. Or my sadness. He just listened to whatever it was I wanted to say, which wasn’t much.
That day led us into something that I’m not sure to this day we can explain. Love. Pure and simple. We met every day after school, mostly for him to walk me home. Met in the mornings or sneaked out in the middle of the nights just to swing on the school swings in silence. I never understood what he saw in me. I was nobody, a suffering kid who looked even worse on the outside than she felt on the inside. But he cared. And he never left. It was almost a year into our friendship when Ian made the first move. He kissed me.
Shocked as I was, I ended up shoving him clear off his swing instead. I think I was just more shocked that he finally did it than anything else. I remember he looked extremely hurt. I knew he had feelings for me. The way he would hold my hand in private or the way he would just look at me. He didn’t have to use words for me to know because I was screaming the same ones in my head day and night. The next time he tried was a few weeks later, and that time, I let it happen. I had never kissed a boy before so the first round I think I panicked because I was afraid he was going to be disappointed in my inexperience, get tired of me and move on. Thankfully, between his first and second attempt, I practiced, as every teenager does, and made out with my hand. A lot. French kissing your hand is never the best practice, but when it happened again, for real, the emotions that shot to my toes made me feel that we were definitely doing something right.
We had snuck out and walked to the school playground. As usual, we sat on the swings in silence, swinging with our thoughts. I could tell Ian seemed a bit off, but I never pressed. Before I knew it, he had stopped my swing and was standing in front of me. I remember his words like they were yesterday. “Chrissy, I wasn’t very proper the first time I tried this, but I can’t go a mi
nute longer without trying again. Because I just can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going to be a gentleman and give you a fair warning this time, so get ready. Chrissy Daniels, I’m going to kiss you, so please let me.” Poor kid was breathing heavily, scared to death at what I might say. I could see the worry in his eyes that I would say no. So when the whispered, “Okay,” fell from my lips, he almost didn’t hear me. He looked like he was going to start round two of his argument, but then I grabbed his flannel and pulled him to me. Our lips touched and it was the most powerful connection till this day that I have ever felt. Young love poured out through a simple kiss is a beautiful thing. And what we shared was just that. Beautiful. I thought nothing would ruin us after that kiss that night. We would have it all. We would figure it out. Because we had each other.
“Hey.” Ian’s voice brings me back to the present. “Where’d you go there?”
“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Should I be worried? Every time you seem to do that it doesn’t end well for me.”
“Ha ha. You’re so funny. And no, you shouldn’t be. Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about how life is strange sometimes. That’s all.”
He squeezes me closer to him and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve missed you, Chris,” he says into my hair.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“How’s Pippa? I mean, is she doing okay? Healthy?” His chin caresses the side of my face, brushing along my hairline.
At that, I sit up, pulling my head from Ian’s chest and lock eyes with him. “If you’re asking if I’ve fed and clothed her in your absence, then yes,” I snap back, partially playful. “But you might have to step in and give a lesson . . .” I stall. “Okay, maybe both of us a lesson on the four food groups. We’re having some trouble getting off the breakfast, lunch, and dinner pancake/cookie train.”
My So Called Life (Love Not Included Series Book 3) Page 16
