by Ivy Jordan
He held me tight, his weight pressing into me, pushing into the hardness of the ground. My tail bone ground against the thin blanket we’d spread at the bottom of the tent as I worked my hips with the same rhythm as his. I wanted to whisper in his ear, tell him how much I loved him, but I knew better. Instead, I leaned in, biting the flesh of his shoulder to hush the urge to blurt out my emotions, and dug my nails into his back. He groaned and grunted with each thrust like an animal mounting its mate. It was so primal, so raw, that my body detached from my mind, my heart, and my soul, letting only my arousal take charge. I had to push the rest back, deep down inside of me, somewhere it couldn’t escape. I wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but at some point, I’d fallen for Elijah, and my heart knew he’d leave, so our bodies fucked, hard and passionate to avoid the intimacy of making love.
He was so close to climax, I could feel his cock throbbing against the tight muscles contracting in my cunt. I wasn’t ready for it to end, not yet. “Fuck me from behind,” I whispered, hoping to escape the love in his eyes. It had to be my imagination, my hopeful heart that saw that emotion in him. It was just sex. We were fucking, not making love. I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes any longer. I knew that those three little words were edging off my tongue, and one more look from Elijah with emotion-filled eyes and those words were going to leap from my tongue to his ears, and probably break my heart in two.
I slid from Elijah’s cock, feeling the craving for him to be back inside of me as soon as he left. I turned to my stomach, lifting myself onto all fours and pushing my ass towards him as he rose to his knees.
His cock quickly entrapped itself back in my tight pussy, but his hands were free to roam my body. His fingers traced my spine to my tail bone and then rested just above his cock, guiding himself to a new angle and bringing me to new heights of my arousal. “You like that?” he whispered.
“Ye-Ye-Yes,” I gasped, pushing my body onto him, letting my weight guide him even deeper into my body.
His hands reached around my body, playfully teasing my clit with round, circular motions. I groaned, pushing my body down towards his teasing. Just as I was about to come again, he squeezed my clit between his finger and thumb, and slowed his thrusts, pulling back further, so the entire length of his cock was felt against my sensitive walls. “Nice and slow, and we’ll come together,” he instructed. His words turned me on; his orders nearly caused me to erupt right then. “Slow,” he whispered as my hips tried to push against him. “Let me make you come,” he insisted.
It was torture to hold my body still, to not push against him, to push him deeper into my cunt. His hands moved to my navel, then up my belly and to my breasts. He gripped them tightly in both hands, his cock still pushing in and out of me with slow, steady motions. My nipples pinched between his finger and thumb, tugging from my breast with a gentle pull.
I was aching between my legs, my pussy dripping with arousal that I could feel on my inner thigh. Elijah’s balls were heavy and tight as they swayed towards me. I knew he was close. I was so close I wasn’t sure I could wait for him. “Not yet,” he whispered, releasing my breasts and letting his hands slide back the path they’d come. He pinched my clit again, and then released, and then again, causing me to moan out with torturous pleasure. “Are you close?” he asked, his voice breathless and raspy.
“Ye-yes,” I gasped, wanting so bad to push him deep into my body. I knew with one thrust, I could, and I’d get my release. But, I waited, allowing him to control my pleasure, loving every second of the teasing.
His thumb pushed the hood of my clit back, and then his finger rolled around my pearl, just barely touching my flesh. The sensation was wildly erotic, and my pulsations sporadic, uncontrolled, at least by me.
“Come with me,” he breathed, his voice dripping like honey from his lips. I was ready, but I waited. His cock flinched inside of me, and then throbbed as his pace picked up. His finger rolled my clit like a marble on glass, and my body erupted around him as his erupted in mine. The spasms between us were synced perfectly as the words I’d been holding back fell out of my lips in a series of gasps. My ears rang as I thought what was only my voice was actually deeper, Elijah’s, saying the same forbidden phrase in sync with me. No. I was certain I’d imagined it. My body tensed at the fear he’d heard me. I didn’t want to ruin what we had, to scare him off before he actually left.
I’d daydreamed about him staying, deciding that he couldn’t leave me, but I knew he would. He’d never promised to stay.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elijah
The house was coming along nicely. It was coming along so nicely that I barely recognized it. With the couch my dad passed out on gone and the pool sparkling and full in the backyard, it didn’t feel like the hellhole I’d ran from when I joined the service at eighteen any longer. I could still hear my dad’s voice though, his yelling, his insults. I saw his fist coming towards me, and sometimes, I could even feel it smash against my cheek.
All those thoughts about my dad made it tough to make the decision about Bailey, about being a father. I still didn’t know what kind of father I would be, that I could be. Xander’s words rang in my head, and I knew I needed to make a decision, even if it wasn’t the one he thought was right. I was the only one that could make the right decision.
I knew Taylor was eager to get back to work, and since it was Monday, she’d be talking to Milton, and then doing his shopping for the week after work. We’d spent an entire week together; with both weekends it was actually nine full days. I wouldn’t push her to see me, not tonight. I knew she’d be worn out after her first day back, and I had things to sort out in my head anyway.
I thought about that night in the tent, where I heard her tell me she loved me. I’d said it too, but I was certain she hadn’t heard over her own moans. I hoped she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. It had been a great week, and we’d grown really close. The time spent with Xander, talking about her dad, memories of Tommy, and the decision about Bailey, it all had me twisted.
I turned off the floor sander and picked up my phone. I at least had to see Kellie, to talk to her; maybe that would help me make the decision. “This is Kellie,” her voice was high-pitched and nasally.
“Hey, Kellie, it’s Elijah,” my voice cracked as I spoke.
I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if I could meet up with you and talk.”
“I’m at the beach right now, but Bailey is with me,” she explained.
“Would it be okay if I brought you lunch?” I asked, knowing that seeing Bailey was beneficial to me committing to a decision.
She hesitated with a long pause, and then agreed, giving me her location. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I said.
My heart raced as the reality sunk in. I wasn’t ready to be a father, but that wasn’t fair to this little girl. She didn’t ask for any of this. “Man up,” Xander’s words sounded in my head.
I stopped at the burger joint by the beach and picked up three burgers, an order of chicken nuggets, and three fries. I wasn’t sure what kids ate, but the only happy memory I could think of as a child was when my dad stopped at the burger place on the way home.
I parked across from the beach and sat in my car while working up my nerve to go find them. I took a deep breath, stepped out of my car, and walked towards the sandy beach. It wasn’t crowded, it never was, but there were enough people spread out on the sand that I didn’t see Kellie or Bailey at first glance.
The sand pushed into my sandals and under my feet, between my toes, and then up my ankle as I began to sink in the soft surf. “Elijah!” I heard my name called and turned towards the sound of Kellie’s nasally, high-pitched voice. I assumed we didn’t talk much the night we hooked up. There was no way I could keep an erection with that noise squawking in my ear.
Kellie’s arm waved high in the air, motioning me towards where she sat. As I got closer, I noticed the little dark-haired girl playing in the sand a f
ew feet from where her mother had spread out a large blanket. She was building a sand castle diligently, even though the soft sand lost its shape and fell before her walls could be built properly.
“I brought burgers and nuggets,” I said, handing Kellie the bag.
I sat down beside her, staring out at the little girl for a moment, lost in my own thought, my own torturous thought. “Looks like she’s having fun,” I said with a smile.
“She loves the beach,” Kellie said, staring at me intensely as she spoke. Her stare made me nervous, and I knew she wanted an answer from me. I didn’t have one. Not yet.
“So, why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked, curious as to why she never tried to reach out, to at least tell me I’d created a life.
“You were deploying the weekend we hooked up. We were both drunk, stupid, and I didn’t think you’d be excited to find out you had a kid to take care of as you left to go overseas,” she explained.
“But, I could’ve helped, sent you money, something,” I pointed out.
“I didn’t need your money,” she sighed.
I’d forgotten Kellie was the daughter of the richest man on the island. He ran the local airport, owned over a dozen planes, and flew people, mostly tourists, from island to island. He’d cornered the market when he was just eighteen, and by the time he was thirty, he’d already been featured in Forbes magazine twice. “Still, you could’ve told me,” I protested.
Bailey was still working on her sand castle, building and rebuilding the same wall over and over again. I wanted to go help her, to show her how to use the damp sand so it would pack into a sturdier shape. I knew it was best that I didn’t. Not without knowing what I was going to do.
“So, why tell me now?” I asked.
Kellie sighed and reclined back on her arms. “I wasn’t planning on it, but then I ran into you. It isn’t fair to Bailey to deny her a strong male role model, but it isn’t fair to her to give her one that is weak and uninterested either,” she snapped.
Wasn’t fair to Bailey? What about me? I get this dumped on me without warning. Boom, you’re a dad, and she’s already three. I hadn’t had the chance to bond with her since she was an infant like Kellie had. How would I know if she even liked me if I decided to be in her life?
Bailey ran over to us, stopping to stare at me with dark, large eyes. “I know you,” she smiled.
“I know you, too,” I smiled. “I brought burgers and nuggets. Are you hungry?” I asked.
She wrinkled up her nose. “Do you have any sushi?” she asked, her little voice almost as squeaky as her mothers, but somehow not offensive at all. It was sweet. Something about it melted my heart and made me want to reach out and grab her, protect her from the world, but I didn’t. I still wasn’t sure that she didn’t need to be protected from me.
“I don’t. I’m sorry,” I half-laughed, surprised that the three-year-old had such a sophisticated and finicky pallet.
“She’s not a big fan of fast food,” Kellie explained.
It just made me feel that much more distant from the child. I didn’t even know what she ate; how in the hell was I supposed to know what was best for her, for me?
Bailey bored quickly of us and ran back to her sand castle. I watched her, my heart tugging hard as I noticed something in her familiar, something that resembled me when I was a kid. I wasn’t sure if it was her eyes, her posture, or her mannerisms, but there was certainly something that made me feel she was mine.
“So, you coming here, does that mean you’ve decided what you want to do?” Kellie asked, not beating around the bush at all.
“I haven’t,” I admitted. “I just needed some answers I guess. Can I let you know my decision Friday?” I asked.
“Sure,” Kellie agreed graciously. I was impressed, and a little shocked at how easy she was being, how flexible. This was her child’s life we were talking about, but she told me to take all the time I needed. “I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret, for Bailey’s sake,” she added.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Taylor
Milton looked like a new man sitting across from me in the big comfy chair. He sat one of the colorful throw cushions in his lap and squeezed it as he told me the good news. “I have my flight booked,” he beamed.
His hair was clean and slicked back from his face, his clothes pressed, and he even looked like he’d gotten some sun from the glistening of his skin. “I’m really glad,” I sighed, feeling a relief that he was going to be okay.
“I owe it all to you,” he gushed, his eyes filling with the wet tears he tried to hide. “Thank you,” he smiled, pulling back his emotion.
I couldn’t speak. I knew if I did, my voice would crack and tears would fall from my eyes. I’d grown so attached to this man in such a short time. He was the link to all of the guilt I felt about my own father. He was helping me just as much as I was helping him, if not more.
“So, when do you leave?” I finally managed to speak clearly.
“Next week. I’ll visit my son for a week, and then my daughter for a week,” he grinned.
“You should stay longer,” I encouraged.
“I can’t be away from the island that long,” he said softly. I knew he meant he couldn’t be away from his wife that long. He visited her every week, leaving fresh flowers on her gravestone that he picked wild. He took very good care of her, even when he couldn’t take care of himself.
We talked a little longer than usual, but he was my last patient of the day, and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave. I was enjoying listening to him talk about his grandkids, and how much he enjoyed talking to them through Skype.
As I was walking him out, I reminded him of the shopping arrangement. I was surprised, but he’d actually written out a list of items he needed. It was short, but I knew he was leaving next week, so I didn’t fight him on it. “I’ll be by later this evening,” I promised, taking the list from his wrinkled hand. I fought back the urge to reach out and hug the old man, knowing it wasn’t exactly the professional thing to do.
I stood by the front doors, watching him walk to his car. His stride was stronger, his back straighter, and something had definitely changed within him.
“Taylor, can I have a minute?” Mitchell stuck his head out from his office.
Chills ran up my spine as I walked towards him. What have I done now?
“Have a seat,” he offered, motioning to the hard chair in front of his desk. I smiled, took the seat, and looked around his plain, cold office.
“Did you have a good week?” he asked, trying to sound interested even though I knew he wasn’t. I hadn’t been here long, and already taking a week off. I was waiting for him to lower the boom. Give it to me, Mitchell; I can handle it.
“It was an amazing week,” I smiled, trying not to let him induce fear into my soul. I was feeling good, and that’s how I wanted to stay. He wasn’t going to ruin my great mood, my feeling of accomplishment.
“I’m glad you took the time for yourself. I know this job is overwhelming at times. I hope I haven’t overloaded you too quickly,” he sighed.
“No, not at all. I’m actually enjoying the workload,” I explained, suddenly panicked with guilt.
“I was just concerned. I know you took on an extra day with Milton, and on top of everything else…” he paused.
“No. I took the week to visit a family friend. Getting to his place is a full day hike,” I smiled. I wasn’t going to let him push Milton’s days back to twice a week, not using my week off as an excuse. I wasn’t overwhelmed at work; if anything, I was content. I loved my job and my patients.
“Milton seemed to be a lot happier,” he admitted.
My heartbeat slowed to normal, and my palms released the sweat forming on them as my panic reduced. “Yes. He’s a changed man,” I beamed.
“He spoke very highly of you. He said you helped him get organized at his house, and that you’re doing his shopping for him,” Mitchell questioned.
&n
bsp; I couldn’t tell by his tone if he was irritated or impressed. “That’s not exactly orthodox treatment,” his eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he pushed his glasses down to his nose. His stare was intense, leaving me helpless against the anxiety that arose within my soul.
“I understand, but I felt it was necessary,” I stated firmly.
“I agree,” he said, and then leaned back in his chair. My heart raced. “I believe that those extra steps you’ve taken with him brought not only trust that was needed, but confidence that had been lacking for some time now. I’ve spent several years with Milton, and I’ve never seen him this happy, this confident,” he boasted.
My eyes were locked onto his, still in disbelief that he was praising me, not reprimanding me for my nontraditional methods of treatment. “People often don’t realize that life on the island, especially a small one like this, is much different than in a big city. People are different, and they should be treated differently. That’s why I was so excited to get you here, someone who’s lived on the island, who understands the close bond of the people here. I have to say, I’m impressed,” he gushed, his eyes beaming with pride.
“Thank you,” I smiled. I’d never been praised so highly while in New York. Maybe the island was where I belonged. It was in my blood. I had roots here. I was one of these people.
“I’m prepared to make you a full partner once your six-month period is complete. I didn’t want to wait to tell you. I thought you should know now, so you have the time to decide if you plan to stay,” he smiled brightly.
When I came here, I had planned on going back to New York, when I wasn’t certain. But, a full partnership, that meant a commitment to stay here forever. “I really appreciate that. Thank you very much, Mitchell,” I replied.
