by Jenny Hayut
His jeans and boxers gone, he stands before me naked. I slowly drop my gaze to take in every inch of him. The moonlight sneaking through the curtains dances off his body. Sublime. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. His hard, muscled build, his ripped and lickable abdomen, his strong, broad shoulders. All so easy to lose myself in.
My eyes stop at his cock, remembering how frightened I was the first time I saw it. The mere sight of it now, hard because of me, stirs the fire he’s started between my legs. I wait for his touch. He slowly sinks to his knees and spreads my legs. I shift my hips as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and puts my legs over his shoulders. I can’t speak. As much as I ache for him to be inside me, I don’t resist, because I remember just how good he is with that mouth.
My eyes roll back in my head as he submerges his face in me. As he licks and sucks and thrusts in and out of me with his tongue, my moans get louder and my grip on him tighter. I don’t ever want to let go.
He lifts his head. “Still just as sweet.” He licks his lips.
Oh my God. That’s it. I have to get my hands on him. I can’t take it anymore. I drop my legs to the bed and slide away, pulling him with me. Just as he begins to shift his weight on me, I force him down to his side and mold my body against his with the fearlessness that comes out of hiding when Holt and I are together. He makes me a different person. I’m not chained by my insecurities. I act on impulse. I listen to what my body tells me it wants.
I trail my lips across his chest to taste him. A sweet saltiness fills my mouth as I lick down his abs until I reach that tantalizing V. I trace its ridges with my finger until I get to his cock. I grasp him in my hand and squeeze as I hungrily take him into my mouth.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans as he caresses my back then my hair, moving it away from my face, pulling at it the way I love. I begin my onslaught of pleasing him—the way he taught me to do so long ago.
I loved doing this to him before. Making him lose control. Sending him into the same throes of ecstasy.
I find the sensitive spot at his tip and twirl my tongue around and around. He groans as he lifts his hips. “Nicolette.”
I can’t wait any longer. I know how he feels in me. What he does to my body.
I rise up and straddle him, letting him impale me. I scream at the sheer pleasure of him filling me. “Holt!”
I rock my hips into his, building to oblivion. He grabs my ass with both hands, controlling my thrusts. It’s going to be fast again. I can feel it. With him, I can’t help it.
“Baby, you keep moving like that, moaning my name, I’m going to come right now.”
His words are a challenge, and I ride him harder, faster, ready to explode. I’m there, right there, when he rips me off him and throws me to my back. Fuck. I was so close.
“The only way that’s happening is with me looking down at you while I’m shoving my cock in and watching you take it. Now, say it. Beg me to take you, baby.”
“Holt.” I almost cry out. “Please, Holt.”
He shoves himself in me so deep, I flinch for a moment as my body adjusts to him. I squeeze his shoulders, not wanting to let go. He’s thrusting in and out of me hard, demanding. I wrap my legs around his ass, with my boots still on.
I lift my hips, inviting him to go even deeper, and he accepts. I’m approaching the orgasm I was so close to having before he pulled me off.
“Holt.” I moan. “I’m…” I can’t finish. My words have been stolen.
“Come for me, baby. Call my name. I want to hear it as you come, baby.”
Those words take me over the edge. I plummet as I let go, feeling the tension collapse all around me. Tension that had been building in me for the past three years. I scream, “Holton,” without thinking.
He jolts for a moment then grinds into me harder. I’m going to come again. I can feel it. I clutch his shoulders when my body tremors as he thrusts deeply into me one final time. I feel his pulsating warmth as it enters me. My legs tighten their grip around his ass. I don’t ever want to let go.
****
I open my eyes to the sunlight and Holt’s weight lying next to me. He’s asleep, with his arm and leg across me. The goosebumps tingle as they travel across my body. I’ve dreamed so desperately of this moment, right here, waking up next to him like this for so long. To have it again, it’s bittersweet. In some ways, it would’ve been better not to have it at all. If you have it, you know what it feels like, so when it’s gone, its memory haunts you. To the very core of your sanity. No escaping it. It overpowers your life. It controls all your thoughts, all your decisions, your everything. Controls you.
The heaviness is in my chest. The knife back again, twisting, reminding me of the pain. Tears well up as I silently watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep. My emotions overwhelm me, and the tears escape.
“Baby.”
I lift my face to his, and he’s watching me cry.
“That’s not something I want to wake up to. Why the tears?”
I brush them away quickly. I can’t do this with him. Confess what the last three years of my life have been like. I can’t. It would only show him how pathetic I am. Just how right Amber really is. That I’m dull. Boring. Not the woman for him. He needs a strong woman. A woman who won’t back down. A woman not afraid to speak up. I can never be that kind of woman. Because I’m weak. Fragile. Broken.
I avoid his question. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Waking up beside you isn’t something I would ever be sorry for.”
I take in a breath, and his words warm me as I lie there, trying to smile.
His lips slowly lift into a smile of his own as he raises his hand to cup my face and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
I fight back the tears again. I can’t lie like this with him. As much as I’ve dreamed about it, played it out in my head over and over again, now that I have it, I don’t want it. The feelings he brought back last night, his song, his kisses, his touch. It was a mistake. All of it. Reality has sunk back in. All my thoughts, my insecurities, my pain. Seems I’ll never be able to escape them.
I desperately want to ask him what he’s doing here, what his plans are, but I’m afraid to hear the answers, so I don’t. I squirm away from him as I pull myself upright in the bed. Now that its daylight, I’m self-conscious about my body again, so I wrap the sheet around myself as I get up.
“Where you going?” He tries to pull me back, but I don’t budge.
“Bathroom.”
“You aren’t running from me, are you?”
I look at him, shocked. It’s as if he can read my mind. Am I that fucking transparent? “No, I’m just going to the bathroom.”
As I shut the door behind me, I catch my reflection in the mirror. Good Lord, my face and hair are out of control. In the midst of our passion last night, I hadn’t taken off my makeup or brushed out Lita’s creation. As a result, I look scary. I mean scary. I can only imagine Holt’s first thought at seeing me like this. Doesn’t really matter though.
I stand and stare at myself. I look into my eyes. I know what’s behind them. Falling fast. Just like before. I have to stop this. I can’t trust myself enough that I won’t throw it out there again, giving him everything only to be ripped apart again.
I glance down to see my pajamas neatly folded on my hamper where I left them the night before. Thank hell. I wash my scary face and brush out my even scarier hair. I drop the sheet to the floor and quickly slip on my pajama shorts and tank top.
I take a deep breath, but when I open the door, I stand frozen. The sudden impact of seeing my bed empty leaves me dizzy.
This is not happening. This is not happening.
I stare at the ruffled sheets where Holt’s body had been.
I walk out of my room on a rampage, headed to the kitchen, where my cell is, to call Cass. He left. Again. He baited me so easily with all his bullshit. I’m sure he’s on his way to Amber right now, to laugh at how naïve I sti
ll am.
As I stalk down the hall to the kitchen, I hear voices. Cass is home already. Did she see when Holt left? Better yet, did she lay him out on the sidewalk? Perhaps that’s her on the phone, calling the paramedics to come scrape him off the curb.
Yeah, like that would ever happen. Holt would never hurt her. At least, not physically. Fuck with her head. Likely. That seems to be his thing. I secretly hope Cass was packing her mega-fuck-you-up mace spray when she saw him and put two and two together and gave him something to remember me by. The vision makes me laugh out loud.
As I get closer to her, though, she doesn’t sound angry. She doesn’t sound like she’s on the phone with the paramedics either. She’s laughing. I make it to the kitchen and my jaw drops. Cass is sitting on one of the barstools at the bar, laughing at Holt.
He’s standing in front of the stove and, judging by the wooden spoon in his hand and the sound of something sizzling, he’s cooking. In my kitchen.
Not gone. Still here.
After we just had raging sex less than six hours ago. My heart is suddenly in my throat, and I almost collapse right there as the sudden rush of emotions overtake me.
They both turn to me as I stand motionless in the doorway.
“Hey, hun, what’s so funny?” Cass giggles.
My words fail me for a moment as I turn my attention to Cass. “Nothing.”
I think she can hear the hesitation, the uncertainty in my voice, because she gives me a strange look.
“How do you like your eggs, babe?”
I can barely keep it together, and Cass is watching me intently, clearly worried. What is this? Holt’s been back barely two weeks and already he’s in my kitchen, half-naked with loose-fitting black shorts riding low on his hips. Almost every inch of his enticing body now in the daylight. He turns to me, catches me gawking at his body, and gives me that delectable smile of his
“Well?”
I shift my gaze to Cass, who’s still staring at me. I know she’s wondering what’s going on in my head.
I don’t answer him. I don’t want him to cook me anything. I don’t want him to know how I like my eggs. I want him gone. I need him gone. I want to tell him to leave. I want to tell him how much I regret last night. But the words don’t come.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
He doesn’t try to stop me as I walk back to my bedroom.
****
I walk out of my bathroom, towel wrapped around me, and see Holt, sprawled out across my bed with his hands locked behind his neck. He was waiting for me. Thank God those enticing black shorts are gone, replaced with jeans and a rocker band t-shirt.
“It was too soon. You regret it. I know. I shouldn’t have pushed you, but I couldn’t help it. I needed you, baby.”
His passionate words make me dizzy, yet I feel the slash of the knife at the same time. He nailed it, though. Sensed my tension.
“Holt, I—”
He gets off my bed and walks over to me, touching his fingers to my lips. “Shh. Wait.”
He rests his arms on my shoulders, and I try to push aside the electricity his touch ignites in me. Standing there in only a towel, it’s not easy.
“No fucking way am I ever going to let a job take me away from you for that long again. Not going to happen. I can’t promise you I won’t have to leave. I’m not going to lie. Can’t control that shit. It’s my life. But you make me want to stay, baby. Right here. I’ll give everything I can give. As much as you’ll take.”
I tremble and swallow the lump in my throat, pushing down the sobs that are begging to come out.
“You tell me what I have to do to make you trust that.”
“I—”
He shushes me again as he rests his hands on either side of my face. “Baby, I’m going to kiss you, and I want you to tell me what you feel.”
He gently presses his lips against mine before I have the chance to object. This is not like any of his kisses before. Not hungry. Not forceful. Delicate. He’s making love to my lips.
I soften in his arms as he drops them to circle my waist. He pulls his lips away, and I dip my head to rest on his shoulder. I want him. I need him. God, the power this man still has over me.
He lifts my chin to face him. “Tell me.”
“I—”
“Nicolette. Tell me.”
“A desire to want more. Always more. That’s what your kiss feels like to me.”
“Then go with it, baby.”
“I can’t.”
“You will. I can wait. I will wait.”
“You don’t understand, Holt. I’m different.”
“I know you’re different, and at some point, I’m going to need you to tell me how you got that scar across your back.”
I stiffen in his arms.
“What’s not different is that woman I found hiding three years ago. The woman who took me last night and threw me across that bed right there and took what she wanted, what she needed. You keep her hidden well, and I don’t think she comes out to play very much. Does she scare you, baby?”
Our conversation has suddenly taken a turn too reminiscent of a talk with my shrink, who’d asked me that exact same question in a session. A year-and-a-half has passed since my last visit to him, because I’ve learned how to control my life better. And bury the things I have no control over. Push forward. Holt coming back...yeah, all that shit went out the window.
I discovered that side of me, the one he says doesn’t come out to play much, because of him, and I buried that side of me, because of him. That is, until it snuck out when I saw him again.
He lifts my chin. I’m certain he can see the torment in my eyes as I look into his and see confusion. He wants to know.
I can’t pull my wounds open, allowing the infection to spread.
“It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to tell me. I think I already know the answer.”
My body relaxes. Thank God, he’s not going to push it.
He gives me another gentle kiss, as his cellphone chirps. I try not to melt away, still caught up in his kiss, his words, as he drops his hand to his pocket and pulls out his phone.
“Maddox. Talk. No shit? Yeah, yeah, give me twenty. No. Right. Be there.”
That had to be the shortest conversation, using the least amount of words possible.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “I have to go, baby. As much as I would love you to drop that towel so I can take you to your bed and make love to you, I can’t. Got work to do. I’ll call you when I can.”
“Okay,” I breathe.
My legs are still weak, my heart beating so fast, I’m certain he can feel it as he hugs me. He reaches down to push the hair away from my neck then leans in to my ear. “Thank you for what you gave me last night. I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but I couldn’t help myself.”
He kisses me gently, barely touching my skin, and then he’s gone.
Leaving me breathless.
The door shuts as Holt walks out. I hear Cass’s footsteps bolting down the hall toward my bedroom.
“Okay, Nik, what the hell is up?” She plops down on my bed.
I walk into my bathroom to get dressed and come back out with my hairbrush, brushing the strands of wet hair Holt had just touched, and sit down in my reading chair beside the window.
“I can’t do it.”
“What do you mean, you can’t do it? Uh, pretty sure you already did.” She laughs. “Just sayin’.” The way you two looked this morning, fucking absolutely took place between the two of you last night.”
“Just now, before he left, I could feel the honesty in his words. It was there. I know it.”
She lets out a roar of laughter. “Okay, honey, I’m not understanding. What’s the problem?”
I take a deep breath. “It’s just that... Cass, I know what he said. He was lonely, just like me. He missed me.” I throw my hands in the air out of frustration with my schizophrenic emotions when it comes to him. “
Okay...so I’m missable. But am I stayable? He says I make him want to stay, but does that really mean he will? I still don’t know if he’s on a job or not, but after what he said just now, I’m pretty sure he is.”
“Well, have you asked him?”
“No.”
She squints her eyes and wrinkles her eyebrows as she shakes her head. “Um, why the hell not? Nik, honey, you need to talk to him. Don’t be afraid. Ask him. You have to know. You deserve to know. You need to know.”
“What if I don’t want to know? What if I’m afraid of what his answers will be?” I turn my head to look out the window, my fears crowding my mind, relentless once more. I’m falling again already, and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I was pretty sure I loved him back then. And that feeling, yeah, it never went away. I just pretended. “All those visits, talking to the doctor, it was pointless. I am exactly the same now as I was back then.”
“Nicolette Stringer, I swear I’m going to slap you. You are so not that person anymore. Nowhere fucking near. You are strong, talented, and an independent, successful doctor. You’ve overcome that shit, and I refuse to let you think for a second that you’re going back there.”
I close my eyes. Her words hit me deep. I know she’s right, but it’s too hard to explain to her how just the sight of Holt makes me lose control. Makes me vulnerable.
“Hun, you need to talk to him. You need to ask him.”
“It’s not just that. This morning when I walked out of my bathroom, I froze when I saw he wasn’t in my bed. I thought the worst and shut down, that fast. Only to discover he was here the whole time.”
“Um, Nik, sweetheart, that’s a good fucking thing, a man cooking you breakfast after he’s fucked you senseless.”
“Don’t you see? I haven’t let go of what him leaving did to me. It’s still there. Like a fucking incurable disease.”
“Hun, I think he’ll be the one to make it go away. The only one.”
I break down then, the sobs coming in uncontrollable fits. Only with Cass have I ever been comfortable enough to show my fears, my anguish.
“I can’t live like that, Cass,” I cry. “Living in fear of him disappearing again.”
