by Aria Ford
“I know what I want first,” I said.
I parted her thighs and slid into her. She cried out. I sighed. My cock throbbed and the feeling of her wetness around me was so good, so safe. I drew out and pushed in again, and then did it again a bit harder. There was a wall behind me, which made it easier to brace myself as I withdrew and thrust, withdrew and thrust.
I could feel the ache building inside me, and that strange, heating, almost painful feeling as my climax grew and grew.
I was pushing into her fast now, my breath panting and heaving, and then suddenly my body knew what it was doing, throbbing and pulsing and moving faster and faster and…
I yelled aloud as I came. I felt amazing. I leaned back and let my body do what it had to do and then collapsed on her.
She sighed and reached up. I felt embraced and safe as she held me close, my body pressed against her soft, cool skin.
She lay beside me for what felt like ages. I could smell the sweet floral scent of her skin and feel its coolness.
“Oh, Jay,” she said.
“You’re crying.”
I smiled down at her and she smiled up at me, her face streaked with tears.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I am crying.”
I smiled at her. “You’re silly.”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “And you always make me cry.”
I smiled. “I suppose I do.”
“For a good reason, though,” she sniffed. “A good reason.”
I sighed. I was almost crying too. I had never experienced anything quite like this before. Not only was the lovemaking amazing, the fact was she loved me.
And I did her.
I rolled off her and lay on my back, holding her in my arms.
“I love you, Margo,” I whispered into her ear.
She stiffened and moved, looking into my eyes.
“Oh, Jay,” she said. “I love you too.”
I was tired and elated and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Margo was stroking my shoulder and the sky was pale outside.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Margo
I woke up feeling amazing. I rolled over and smiled up at Jay. He smiled at me.
“Margo?”
I sighed. Hearing my name on his lips made me smile. “Oh, Jay.”
He chuckled and lifted up a bit. “I’m sorry I just collapsed last night,” he said ruefully.
I smiled. “Well, you know what?”
“What?”
“It’s Saturday.”
“Oh yes.” He smiled. “That’s good.”
“It is.” I was feeling particularly naughty that morning and I let my hand stroke his chest, feeling a delight as I felt him tense.
“Margo,” he whispered.
“What?”
“I want you so much.”
I giggled. “I’m glad to hear that because I want you.”
He drew in a breath as I shifted, moving so that my body was sitting up beside him. I watched his eyes widen in alarm and then wonder as I sat on him.
“Margo”
I laughed. “What?” I said gently. I moved so that my body pressed against his. He sighed and I let myself move back so that he went into me.
I had forgotten how good it felt. I raised up and lowered myself again, raised and lowered. I did it slowly. It was a pleasure to feel him inch into me, bit by bit.
I could see his face as I sat down and I loved the look of almost pain on his face. He was enjoying this almost as much as I was. I moved a bit faster, hissing in a breath as I changed the angling of my hips so that he rubbed that pleasure spot inside me.
I felt the ticklish, delicious beginnings of my own orgasm start as I rocked and rode him.
I heard him grit his teeth and I could feel the changes inside me as he started to thrust, letting me know that he, too, was getting close. I moved faster, letting my body slam down onto his as he shifted and thrust and met my motions in turn.
I drew in one breath after another, shivering and shuddering and gasping as he pushed into me and thrust into me, and I let my butt rise and fall, rise and fall.
I was lost in the sweet sensations he was evoking in me, not able to think of anything besides my own sweet need for relief as I pounded onto him and my body started to shiver.
He gritted his teeth and cried out and I cried out in the same instant. I collapsed on top of him and felt myself relax.
He held me and we lay like that for a while, arm in arm.
He stroked my back. I rolled over and let his hands explore me. It felt so good.
“I love that,” I murmured as he kneaded my back, easing out the tension in it.
He smiled. “Well, I like touching you.”
“Mm.” I purred. I felt silly and happy and I rolled over and let him massage me.
“You’re so good at it.” I moaned as he kneaded my shoulders.
“I learned a bit from physio,” he confessed as he finished. My body felt as if it had been remolded.
“Oh?” I asked after a long moment of nothing.
“Oh, what?”
“I didn’t know the physio had taught you massage?” I said inquiringly.
He chuckled. “Not necessarily on purpose.”
“Oh. You mean you just picked it up there.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. He was lying beside me. “I mean, it was about a year in total that I had to go there. I had to do something with the time. Or I’d just have been lying there.”
I chuckled. “That’s what most people do, Jay.”
“I suppose.”
“It’s what you’re supposed to do. If you’re lying there all stiff and focused, it probably just makes their job harder.”
He laughed. “That poor physio. I must have been hell.”
“Probably,” I chuckled. “I can imagine. You’re a stubborn guy.”
He chuckled. “Thanks. I think.”
“Mm.” I felt myself drift off into sleep but remembered something. “You had to go for a year?”
“Mm,” he sighed. “It was pretty bad.”
“Jay?”
I wasn’t sure whether it was safe to ask, but I was going to ask anyway.
“Mm?”
“What exactly happened?”
He went tense and then seemed to decide he could tell me.
“My spine got damaged,” he said. “The nerve was…well…we don’t really know what happened to it. It’s not severed, just severely damaged. And so I can’t move my lower leg.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. It seemed to be the right thing to do, because he started talking.
“When it happened, they weren’t sure if I’d be able to walk. At first, I couldn’t bend the knee. But it seemed like, after a year, some things got sorted out. I can walk, now.”
“Mm.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to seem disinterested by not replying, and I desperately didn’t want to scare him off. The neutral answer seemed to be the right one.
“I sometimes wonder if anything…well, never mind.”
“Any what?”
He sighed. “I just wonder if I’m stuck like this. Or if maybe…maybe one day it will be possible to fix it. I dunno.”
I didn’t say anything for a few minutes. There was such wistfulness in his words. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I don’t know enough to say,” I said carefully.
“I guess nor do I,” he said softly. I looked up at his face. It was hard, the cheeks tense, eyes tight at the corners.
“I’m so sorry, Jay,” I whispered. “I had no idea how this…how it preyed on you.”
He smiled. “I guess not,” he said gently. “But really, I shouldn’t complain.”
I chuckled. “Of course you should! If you want,” I added. “It’s not an easy thing.”
This time he did smile. “Well, thanks. I’m glad you don’t mind me being grumpy.”
> “Mind?” I was laughing again, sheer incredulity welling up inside me. “Jay…I’m only now starting to see what a big deal it is for you. Of course you’re grumpy, as you say. I would be too.”
He laughed. Rolled over and kissed me. I sighed, feeling my body melt in his arms. I loved the feeling of his arms around me, holding me close and safe.
“Oh man,” he sighed when he rolled back. He sounded sad.
“What?” I said. I sat up and looked down at him.
“Well, trust me to go getting comfortable today.”
“Comfortable?” I frowned. “It’s Saturday. You don’t need to go anywhere.”
He made a wry face. “I do. It’s Saturday. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
I remembered. He was only here for a week. He was leaving tomorrow.
I was surprised by how much that hurt.
“Well, I guess you can always come back,” I said gently.
“Mm,” he nodded. His eyes were sad. I blinked, not wanting to think about his leaving and make myself sad about it too.
“Dammit, Jay. You don’t live far away,” I said with some asperity. “You’re just over there in Michigan. It’s quite close.”
He smiled. “I guess.”
I stopped feeling mad at him and just lay down beside him, resigned to the fact that tomorrow he’d be leaving.
“I might as well enjoy today, then,” I said.
“Mm,” he agreed. “Me too.”
We made love again and then made coffee.
“What is it you do to coffee?” he asked me.
“What?” I asked, laughing incredulously. “What do I do?”
“Well, it tastes so good when you make it.” He grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe it’s the brand? You know I’m snobby with these things.” One thing I didn’t compromise on was coffee. I bought Lavazza or nothing.
“It’s not,” he said, glancing over at the box that stood on the countertop. “I buy the same.”
I pulled a face. “It’s not different then.” I laughed. “It can’t be!”
“It is,” he insisted. “It tastes bad when I make it.”
I chuckled. “Maybe you experience it as different,” I conceded.
He made a face. “Maybe.”
“Well, I can tell you.” I smiled. “It doesn’t taste this good when I drink it on my own.”
I was surprised by how his face transformed when I said that. His eyes went all melting and his cheeks flushed. Hell. I should think sometimes about the impact words can have. I can really shoot my mouth off at people. And why, when a few caring words can make all the difference?
“Thanks,” he said. I laughed.
“You are silly, Jay,” I said gently.
“Why am I silly?” he asked with genuine bemusement.
“Because.”
Because you’ve never guessed how much you mean to me. Because you honestly thought your leg ruined you. Because…how could you think I wanted you to leave me because of some stupid injury? How could I even begin to tell him?
He smiled. “Well, I guess I am silly. So are you sometimes.”
“I am?” It was my turn to be confused. I think I’m sophisticated and sensible. Pragmatic. Realistic.
“Yes.”
I laughed. He squeezed my hand. It was ten am and my kitchen was full of sunshine and warmth. I hadn’t felt so happy for a long time.
We made toast and then made more toast. Made more coffee. Talked a lot. The kitchen was full of sunshine and steam and the sweet scent of butter, melting.
“You’re still enjoying your work?” Jay asked.
I nodded. Right now, the thought of work made my head hurt, but yes—I did normally enjoy it. “This new contract could be amazing,” I said. I didn’t think about much else at the moment—besides Jay, of course. The promise of that contract meant the world to me.
“Mm.” He swallowed his coffee. “I can imagine it’ll make a big difference.”
“Yeah,” I said emphatically. “A huge one. It’ll give me work for the next five years. Good work.” And having been the face of such a well-known company would give me solid grounds for the rest of my career. Give me chances to branch out into other things, like maybe starting my own brand one day. My future rested on that thing, at least the way I saw it right now.
“Hell.” He nodded. “That’s good.”
“It is.”
We sat quietly in the haze of coffee-scented steam and sunlight. So many thoughts went around my head. Happy ones in which Jay and I spent the rest of time just glued to this table, this moment frozen forever like some Mad Hatter’s tea party that never stopped. I could live with that.
He sighed and stretched. “I guess my parents must wonder where I’ve gotten to,” he said with a self-conscious laugh.
“Mm.” I nodded. I felt lazy and warm and I didn’t want to move. I especially didn’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of tomorrow loomed ahead and I didn’t want him to leave.
“I should go,” he admitted.
I sighed. “I know.”
He pushed back his chair. I stood up too, gathering the breakfast things and taking them to the sink. When I looked round he’d gotten to his feet again, one arm leaning on the crutch.
“I’m flying at four tomorrow,” he said hopefully.
I made a face. “You’ll have to spend that day home.”
“I know.”
He was standing in the door of the kitchen, the sunlight a warm gold haze spun into his soft hair. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to move. It felt as if, like precious glass, everything would shatter if either of us moved, or spoke or breathed.
I shook myself harshly. “Well,” I said, turning to the sink, breakfast plates in my hands, “We should go. There’s a lot to do today.”
“Oh?” He sounded a bit hurt. I could hear the harshness in my own voice but I wasn’t softening it for him or anyone. I wanted to be mad. If I was mad, it was just possible I could walk away from him.
“Yeah. I have to go to the gym, and I promised Lance I’d see him, and then there’s my tax statement to fill out…”
I didn’t have to do it today, but there was no harm in a bit of willful self-distraction. Not when the alternative was my heart breaking.
“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, didn’t move.
“Right,” I said tightly. “So. You need help getting back home?”
“No,” he said, frowning. “I mean, thanks. But I’ll call a cab.”
“Oh. Okay, then,” I said. Dammit, why was this so hard? I sniffed and looked fixedly out the window. The sky was a watercolor painting, all pale yellow and blue. I looked at it and tried to forget my own sadness.
“Should I go?” he asked softly.
“Probably,” I said.
I turned around. I had schooled my face into a mask of careful neutrality, but I was surprised by what I saw on his face. He looked sad. He made no attempt to hide the wistful care in his eyes.
Dammit.
I drew in a shuddering breath, scared that if I didn’t my heart would break.
“Jay, maybe you should go,” I said carefully.
“Okay,” he said.
I stayed where I was, struggling for control. He stayed where he was.
“Come on,” I said, finding the energy to say it gently. “I’d better open the door, huh?”
“Thanks,” he said.
We went to the door.
In the doorway, he leaned against the frame and kissed me. I let my body melt into his, a sweet, gentle, tender and satisfying kiss. His lips were soft and tender on mine and I clung to him, the embrace soft and warm and loving.
“Right,” I said. My voice was commendably still. “Come on, now. You have to go.”
He nodded. “I guess.”
“Yes,” I said.
We walked out the door together. I called the lift for him. He just stood there with that soft, sweet sadness on his face. I clenched my hands by my side
s and tried, very hard, not to feel.
The lift made its mournful ting, and the door opened. He limped in. The door shut and I stood there with tears running down my face.
“Come on, Margo,” I scolded myself. “He’s not dead.”
All the same, it felt to me as if he had left my life for good. I shivered and went back inside. Where was the sensible, pragmatic Margo? This wasn’t like me at all. I rolled up my sleeves and finished washing the dishes, feeling all the time as if my heart might break.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jay
I got home somehow. I couldn’t really remember any of the trip. All I could think of was her. The way she kissed me. That last embrace, so tender and so unlike anything I had ever known. I had been with plenty of girls before the accident. But no one had made me feel like that—like my heart knew where home was at last.
“Jay!” Mom greeted me at the door. “There you are! We were getting worried…”
She trailed off when she saw the look on my face. I don’t know what my face was doing, but I could imagine it wasn’t a happy expression.
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
“It’s fine, son,” she said softly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I went upstairs to the study and shut the door. I just wanted time to think. I felt elated and wonderful. At the same time, I felt like my world had caved in. It was weird. Somewhere in the back of my mind there was something about serotonin and new love and despair—how they often all arrived at the same time. But that was all chemical stuff. This was more.
I still couldn’t imagine inflicting myself on Margo for the long term. There was that funny hesitance inside me, like it wouldn’t be fair. I sighed. Maybe I was just being silly. A good distraction—that was what I needed.
And it wasn’t like I didn’t have plenty of work to do. I was busy answering emails when someone knocked at the door.
“Yes?” I called.
My mom came in. “Son,” she said gently. “I wanted to talk. You look sad.”
“Mom. I…” I sighed. “Okay. I’m sad. What did you want to tell me?”
She smiled. “Well, I’m glad you can tell me you’re sad. But why? What happened?”
I let out a long sigh. “Nothing bad. I just…well…okay. It’s this girl I met.”
