Every Night

by Lexy Timms

  I found myself wanting to bare it all for her. I wanted to let her shine her bright light into the darkest parts of my soul and break up the black she had painted on the background of my portrait.

  She lifted herself up off the table and toward me while her hands began to dance over the button of my pants. I pulled my shirt from my back before I undid her bra, feeling her hands push my pants down as my erection sprang free. The smile on her face brought joy to my soul, clenching around my heart as I felt about being deep inside of her. I kicked our discarded clothes off to the side as I bunched her skirt up, pulling her panties off to the side as I climbed onto the table.

  She was so wet for me, and I groaned as I slid my fingertips slowly up her slit.

  “Oh, Bryan,” she said breathlessly.

  “I can’t wait. Please don’t make me wait.”

  Her legs curled around me, and I soon found myself sinking into her. The swirling smells of paint and canvas twisted around my head as the scent of her womanhood trickled up our bodies. Goosebumps broke out all around my body as my hips sat against hers, and for a split second I simply reveled in how warm and inviting her body was. The way her walls gave way to my intrusion as I slid deep between her legs. The way my trimmed curls sat against her swollen clit, causing her to shiver every time I rolled my hips into hers. I could see the growing lust darkening her stare, covering her body in a red flush I soon hoped would shine for me by the time I was done with her body.

  I dropped my lips to hers as her hands roamed along my torso, but the moment I drew back and slammed in, she moaned out into the room. I could hear the sounds as I dipped into her body, slicking my cock as I coated myself in her. She was my favorite scent. She was my favorite taste. She was my favorite meal, and now she was going to become my favorite recreational activity. Her walls let me in. Her body opened itself up to me. I could see her beautiful breasts bouncing for me with each thrust I took, and the more I rocked, the more her body gave over to me.

  Over and over again, I pounded into her hips. Her hand reached out for the painting, grasping it before it fell to the ground and destroyed the very painting she was trying to finish. My lips traced her outstretched arm, smirking as goosebumps appeared all along the dips of her body. I could feel her wetness trickling over my skin, dripping into places only her body had ever found on me.

  I traced every inch of her exposed skin as she writhed against me. I picked her up from the table, and she released the painting, listening to it as it fell onto the table. I pressed her back against the wall, rolling my hips into hers as she panted and sang out for more, and all I could do was assault her body in every way I knew that pleased her. She wrapped her arms around my neck while our bodies danced as one, and I could feel her heart hammering fast against my skin.

  “You’re breathtaking, Hailey. I love you so much.”

  She whimpered into my ear at my admission, and it brought a smile to my face. She was clamping around me, pulling me deeper into her body as my lust for her overwhelmed me. I could feel her healing me. Picking up the pieces of my broken soul and gluing them back together with her love. I could feel her reaching into my broken sternum and cradling my heart while she warmed my cold body with hers.

  “I love you, Bryan. So, so much,” she said, whispering.

  I pinned her wrists above her head and slammed my lips down onto hers. Our teeth clattered, and her breasts pressed against my chest, and I rolled my hips while I caressed every inch of her trembling body. Her legs locked around me and pulled me closer, squeezing me with the strength of her voluptuous curves as she arched into me. Never in my life had I felt so melded together with another person in my life.

  And I was lucky it was her.

  “I’m so close,” she said breathlessly. “So close, Bryan.”

  I peeled her from the wall and brought us down to the floor. I cradled her head in my hands, my eyes dancing along her pink tendrils that were slowly growing longer with each passing day. I nestled against her body, her skirt bunched up at her hips while our sweat drenched our skin. I lost myself in her beautiful eyes while my body swam around in her healing powers.

  She was a babbling brook of fresh water, and I was a man who had been wandering the desert for years.

  I wanted to drink up her depths and never come up for air.

  Slowly, I began to roll my hips. Her eyes fluttered shut as my forearms held me up. I felt her legs lock around my waist as she met me, thrust for thrust, and I could feel the way her body massaged me, beckoning for me to dive into the brook and drink up its current.

  Faster and faster and faster I went, slamming into her while her fingernails raked along my biceps. I groaned as her body massaged mine, drawing my cock in deeper toward her heart. My lips danced along her neck and breasts, kissing and nipping and marking what was mine. So long as I had her in my arms, I’d do anything in my power I could to keep her around. I’d tell her anything, buy her anything, provide her with anything she needed just so she would stay, and I wouldn’t have to go back to living the life I had before I met her.

  Before I needed her.

  “Yes. Bryan, yes. Keep going. Please. Oh, yes!”

  Her body stuttered as I dug my knees into the floor. My toes curled and breathing picked up, and I could feel my motions stuttering as she clamped down around me. Her body clung to me like it always did before she was about to pop. It was as if she was holding onto me, so she could fling me over the edge with her. Fall with her into the deep, dark hole pleasure afforded us whenever I could caress my skin against hers.

  “Hailey. Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

  I thrust into her one last time, and that was all it took. Her lips crashed into mine as she fell apart, my mouth swallowing her moans as she quaked against my naked body. My cock pulsed deep within her, giving into her body’s massages as I released and fell over the edge alongside her. I groaned into her lips, feeling her smile as I filled her with my presence, and I could feel our arousals trickling down to the floor.

  I plummeted to her body while she held me close, and I buried my face into the crook of her neck as her fingertips danced around my back.

  The two of us panted for breath. If walls could talk, they would breathe our very sounds into the room, replaying the lust and desires we had for one another.

  “You make me feel powerful, Hailey,” I said into her skin. “You make me feel like a whole man again.”

  I felt her embrace tighten around me as I slid from between her legs. She graced my skin with her lighter-than-air kisses, and I closed my eyes while I took her in. I memorized her smell. Her touch. Her taste. I memorized how her arms held me tight while her legs stayed parted to embrace the whole of my body. I took in the silence of the room as the air conditioning kicked on, circulating the sex-soaked air from the small back room and refilling it with air we could debauch with our own actions once more.

  I scooted myself down and planted my head between her breasts, taking in the sound of her rhythmic heartbeat against my cheek. She ran her fingers through my hair as her body stayed open for me, and I could’ve fallen asleep just like that.

  I could’ve laid there for centuries, never moving, and felt like my life had come to completion.

  I knew the men would be coming back from lunch soon, but I didn’t care. I knew they would start to question things if they saw me coming out of this backroom with Hailey, but I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was soak up life with her the way I knew she did. All I wanted to do was take advantage of the moments in front of me instead of always reeling myself in. If there was one thing Hailey had taught me while her sister was here, it was that the only moment guaranteed to us was the moment we were currently living in. She lived every single second of her life to the fullest extent, and there was a part of me that felt guilty.

  That was a lesson I should’ve learned from my brother’s death, but I had been too wrapped up in my guilt and anger toward the situation, toward my parents, that I hadn’t allowed
myself to learn any lessons from him.

  Which is what I should’ve been doing to honor his memory instead.

  As my arms drifted around Hailey, I felt her pull me closer. It was as if she was trying to wrap me in her light and shield me from the dark that was looming over our heads. I thought back to the painting, how dark and brooding it felt, and it was like she was physically trying to squeeze it out of me. The closer she pulled me against her beautiful body, the more whole I felt. It was like she was setting the glue she’d sprayed onto my broken pieces, making sure that when she let go, I wouldn’t go clattering back to the floor.

  That’s why I loved Hailey they way I did.

  Because she completed me in a way no one else had.

  Not even my brother.

  Chapter 24

  Hailey

  I was shocked when Bryan told me he wanted me to meet his parents. I knew he had a strained relationship with them, and I guess I simply assumed it was like mine. I never in a million years would ever think of caring about what my parents thought of Bryan. In my mind, they stepped out of my life the moment I took up art instead of some medical career. They didn’t take my calls or send me holiday cards. They didn’t call me on my birthday or reach out to me in any way. I simply assumed Bryan had the same tense relationship with them.

  But apparently, it wasn’t quite like my relationship with my parents.

  I told him I would love to meet them, but deep down, I was nervous. I didn’t really know what to expect, but when Bryan showed up at my place in a suit coat I realized I was vastly underdressed. He kept telling me I looked just fine, but I started rummaging through my closet trying to find something else. All I had were oversized sweaters, painted-on jeans, leggings, and skirts. I didn’t have one single nice dress I could put on for this dinner.

  But I did manage to find one lone pencil skirt from my college days.

  I slipped it on and really had to suck it in, so I could zip it up. It really hugged my curves... much more than I thought was appropriate... but the way Bryan’s eyes darkened when I stepped out of the room made me smirk. I paired the skirt with the only pair of heels I owned and slipped on one of my nicer tops. It still fell off the shoulder, but it was looser around the bust area, so I wouldn’t look like I was flaunting every aspect of my body known to man.

  Or to Bryan’s tongue.

  He held my hand and traced loving circles on top of my skin to try and calm me down. I could feel myself trembling in the seat of his truck as we pulled up to their house, and all I could do was gawk. If I’d thought his house was massive, then theirs was a behemoth. Bryan opened my door and gave me his hand, so I could slip out easily, but my eyes couldn’t peel away from the decadence of it all.

  They had a massive fountain in the front yard filled with birds drinking from it. Their grass was routinely maintained, and flowers lined their pristine concrete driveway. The looming brown house had dark green shutters and a six-car garage, and I’m sure if I dared to walk out back there would’ve been some sort of forest oasis complete with a hot tub.

  “Just keep in mind, my parents aren’t always the nicest people,” he said.

  “Then why in the world would you want me to meet them?” I asked.

  “It’ll be the only time you have to do it. Just understand they are the epitome of snobs.”

  “They sound a bit like my parents,” I said. “Do I look all right?”

  “Hailey, you look outstanding. That skirt. Holy shit, you shouldn’t have worn it. It’s going to be hard to concentrate on dinner.”

  “Remind me again why we’re doing this?” I asked.

  “Because you’re an important part of my life, and I want them to understand how important you are to me.”

  I looked up at him and smiled as the front door slowly opened. I could smell the light scent of chlorinated water wafting from the back of the house, but the rapture and the beauty of it all soon died when his mother raked her eyes over me. I was worried about this from the very beginning, but I was familiar with the look she was giving me. I wanted to be strong for Bryan. I wanted to get through this dinner and show them how much I loved their son. But the look she was giving me the moment her eyes stopped at my hair was one my mother gave me the first, and last, time she saw my hair different like this.

  It was blue at the time, but the reaction was still the same.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen that color in my salon before,” she said, smiling. “It’s very ... unique.”

  “Oh, I did it myself. It’s called ‘hot flash’.”

  “Yes, I suppose because it induces them. Won't you come on in?” she asked.

  I looked up at Bryan and clocked his stare on his mother. It was wholly disapproving, but his hand on the small of my back ushered me into the home. We followed her into the dining room, and I couldn’t help but look around. The vases were trimmed in real gold and the furniture was large and plus. There were windows that spanned from floor to ceiling, looking out over a backyard that boasted of a bubbling hot tub. We rounded the corner and came upon a massive table that sat twelve people, and a kind man with a broad smile got up and offered his hand.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Hailey. I like the hair color,” he said.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. McBride.”

  “Please, call me Michael,” he said.

  “You can simply call me Mrs. McBride,” his mother said.

  “Now, sweetheart, play nice,” Michael said.

  But all she did was huff.

  We all sat down to dinner and the cooking was phenomenal. The filet mignon was cooked to perfection, and the green beans must’ve been fresh out of someone’s garden. I couldn’t help but hum and moan over the bites of food I took, and I smiled every time I caught Bryan’s stare.

  “Mrs. McBride, this dinner is delicious,” I said. “Where in the world did you learn to cook like this?”

  “Me? Cook? Oh, sweetheart. No, no. Our chef made this. Sweetheart, did you tell her nothing of how we live?”

  I looked over at Bryan who was eyeing his mother darkly. I knew what she was doing. It’s a tactic my mother had tried many times before. We didn’t have a personal chef or anything, but she did attempt to separate herself from people she felt were beneath her.

  That’s what his mother was doing to me, and I could handle it.

  “Well, my compliments to the chef, then,” I said, smiling.

  “A woman with a taste for food! I love it,” Michael said.

  “Just know it’s important to follow up a meal like this with a bit of exercise. Wouldn’t want anything sitting on anyone’s thighs,” his mother said.

  “Don’t worry. We get plenty of exercise,” Bryan said, grinning. His father let out a broad bout of laughter as my face reddened, but the look on his mother’s face was less than pleased.

  “Mhm,” was all she had to say with her pursed lips and her icy stare.

  “The renovations on her gallery are almost finished,” Bryan said. “It’ll be opening soon, hopefully by the beginning of August.”

  “Oh, I’m really excited about it,” I said. “Bryan’s been a massive help. He came up with the entire concept for the sign and the outside of the building. You guys really should come by and check it out.”

  “I think I might enjoy seeing some of our son’s handiwork,” Michael said.

  “Depends on the date. We have a very busy social calendar, and the value of the artwork we would be seeing would be the only thing that could justify a trip to that end of San Diego. There’s a great difference between making a drive to see Caravaggio and a drive to see finger paintings.”

  “Well, of course the girl isn’t putting finger paintings in her art gallery, Dorothy,” Michael said. “She’d never sell anything. I’m sure she’s got a wonderful painting or two to put up. Maybe by Pollock? You strike me as a Pollock girl.”

  “No, there are no finger paintings,” I said, “and there is no Jackson Pollock.”

 
“Rembrandt?” Michael asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Dali?”

  “Nu-uh.”

  “You must have a Picasso. Something to draw the public in,” Michael said.

  “It’s interesting that you feel infamous artistry has to pull people in from the streets. Art is just as healing as it is beautiful. Many people walk into galleries to partake in its beauty as they do to actually engage in it.”

  “Which is why you should have something beautiful hanging on the walls, dear,” his mother said.

  “You know, man was producing art tens of thousands of years ago. Cave drawings and storytelling on rocks with mashed berries and painted on dirt,” I said.

  “What cavemen should’ve been doing was inventing corporations. Think of the progress we could be in now if they weren’t so absent-minded.” Michael exclaimed.

  “Does a child ever run before it walks, Mr. McBride?”

  “Please dear, call me ‘Michael’,” he said.

  “No, thank you,” I said. “Did Bryan run before he could walk?”

  I could feel Bryan’s eyes on me, but I wasn’t backing down. They were insulting the very thing that kept me alive and afloat for years. They thought that art only existed when there was money because they were short-sighted and closed-minded.

  I had this speech prepared for my own parents, but this venue would do for now.

  “No, he didn’t,” Michael said.

  “So, how do you expect cavemen to build corporations without having, say, heavy machinery to build their skyscrapers?” I asked.

  “That isn’t the point,” his mother said. “The point was, the beauty of art is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it.”