Craving Shannon

by E. D. Brady

  After a long while, Allyssa cried out in agony.

  “What is it?” Thirsting teased. “What do you need, Allyssa? Tell me.”

  “I need…I need…” she trailed off and bucked her hips, hoping he’d take the hint.

  “No, say it?” he urged.

  “Touch me, please,” she cried out.

  She felt him kiss her mound softly. “Like that?” he asked.

  “No,” she screeched. “Harder!”

  “Patience,” he murmured. He kissed up and down her legs for ages, only lightly skimming her center with the tip of his tongue, until Allyssa was sure she’d go mad from the teasing. She was growing very impatient with Thirsting.

  Finally, he made his way back up her body once more. “What would you like me to do?” he purred into her ear.

  “Fuck me,” she moaned.

  “Say it louder, Allyssa,” he ordered.

  “Fuck me, Thirsting,” she called out. “Fuck me hard.”

  He chuckled against her skin, obviously satisfied by her response, hearing her beg for it. “Spread your legs wide,” he requested.

  Allyssa obeyed.

  “Wider!” he demanded. “I want to see how wide you can spread for me.”

  She pushed her legs in opposite directions until she couldn’t move another centimeter.

  “Good girl,” he muttered.

  She felt him grip her upper thighs then in one swift move, he rammed into her and buried himself entirely. She arched her back and screamed.

  He moved slowly in and out at first, but then picked up momentum. True to his word, soon he was pounding her mercilessly. “Is that hard enough?” he asked through guttural moans.

  She, overcome with physical relief, was convinced she never felt anything quite like it. “It’s…so good,” she whimpered. “It’s the best.”

  “I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had?” he questioned.

  “Yes,” she screamed. “Please don’t stop. It’s so good…”

  He put his hand on her pelvis then moved his thumb downward until it found her mound. He rubbed his thumb in circles over it, causing Allyssa to scream and cry with pleasure. He reached his other hand under her ass. He angled her up and held her in place tightly, allowing him deeper entry.

  After many long mind-shattering moments, Allyssa finally came hard, her body practically levitating off the bed. As she floated back down, Thirsting drove into her one last time then emptied himself inside her.

  She lay still, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. “That was…so good,” she gushed.

  Thirsting’s lips were at her ear once more. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” he replied. “The night has only just begun.”

  For the next two and a half hours, he brought her to heights she never thought possible. He entered her over and over, seeming to possess an unlimited amount of energy and stamina. His hands and mouth rubbed and licked at her vigorously while he rode her hard and fast. Before long, the sheets, damped with sweat, were a tangled mess beneath them, a statement to the chaotic, frenzied sex that had her gasping for breath.

  Finally, when her body was thoroughly depleted of energy, and she had lost count of the orgasms, he asked her if she’d had enough.

  “Yes,” she answered, nodding. “I’m exhausted.”

  She felt him remove the binding on her wrists. Her arms ached from being in the same position for hours, not that she minded that much, it was a tiny price to pay for sex that great. She reached her arms out in front of her and spun them around to work out the kinks.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she replied.

  He put his hand on the material that covered her eyes. He pushed the fabric off.

  She blinked a few times to adjust her vision to the light.

  He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her forehead then smiled down at her. “Happy almost anniversary, Baby,” he said.

  She smiled back at him. “Happy almost anniversary,” she replied.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving,” she answered, nodding.

  “Let me just rest for a few minutes then we’ll go grab some dinner,” he suggested. “You’ve completely worn me out, woman.” He flopped down next to her and flung his arm around her waist. “Did you see the kids?” he questioned.

  “Yes. Chloe and Jillian came by the hospital. Brian was at a football game,” she answered.

  “Where did you tell them you were going?” he asked.

  “I told them I was going out with Nora and that you had an after work meeting,” she responded.

  “And they bought that? Chloe bought that?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Allyssa queried.

  “She’s always so clued in,” he answered. “It’s hard to put anything past her.”

  “It’s completely believable,” Allyssa countered. “It’s a lot more convincing that telling them I was heading out to cheat on their dad…with their dad.”

  He snuggled into her and chuckled.

  Allyssa leaned up on her elbow and looked down at her husband. “I’m really going to miss Mr. Thirsting,” she said. “I loved all his sexy emails.”

  “Mr. Thirsting will be back someday,” he promised. “Probably when you least expect him.”

  “Swear?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She ran her finger over his bottom lip and marveled at how handsome he was. His hair was more gray than brown these days, and his laugh lines more defined. He lived well, though and that helped to keep him looking years younger than his actual age. He ate well and got plenty of exercise, but most of all, he laughed all the time. He adored his family, his wife and kids. He treated every moment with them as though it was a precious gift. Most people that met him took him for a man in his mid-forties. It was hard to believe that he was going to be sixty in a few weeks. But like an expensive cut of meat or a fine wine, Chad Clarkson only ever improved with age.

  ⃰ ⃰ ⃰

  Chad lay on his back and looked up into the face of his beautiful wife. He was a lucky man to have her. He loved her more than life itself. As she ran her finger over his bottom lip, he thought back to a young man, an idiot who didn’t believe in the kind of love he had with her, a much younger version of himself. That was back when he was free from the pain of loss, the agony of separation, but he was also ignorant to the joy of being with that one special person.

  Then, without prompting, she popped into his mind, the girl who taught him how to love, the young woman who first captured his heart. He winced, feeling the old familiar pain.

  “Are you alright?” his wife asked.

  “Yes,” he said. She didn’t need to know how the memory of those dark days still haunted him, still pierced his heart from time to time.

  Allyssa lay down next to him and snuggled up. He held her tightly, his head resting against hers. The comfortable silence allowed him to submerse in the dark thoughts, to exercise the demon until the next time, to let the memory run its course:

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  He sat in an ambulance, holding her cold hand, his heart breaking in half, the agony threatening to consume him.

  His mind played strange tricks with him, shutting down for long periods at a time. He seemed to be alone in a hospital waiting room one minute, but then his mother was with him the next. Where she had come from, he never could piece together. His father was there also, but seemed to disappear and reappear as the long, dark night wore on. At one point, he was sure Alex was sitting next to him, talking to him, but what he said, Chad could never recall. It was a blur of pain and torment.

  How long that night lasted was anyone’s guess, but sometime, hours after the sun came up, a doctor came out to deliver the news. They had done all they could but Shannon was gone.

  When he thought the pain couldn’t get any more severe, he fell to his knees and wept.

  The next memory that registered was of his old bedroom. He was home in Connecticut. He was
in his bed with no intention of ever leaving it. He heard Rosa come in every so often. He could tell by the nauseating smell of food that she was trying to coax him to eat. The only thing he wanted from her was the little tiny pill that made the pain go away, the one that made him numb and sleepy. His mother and father came in from time to time to check on him, both worried sick.

  Then came the day when Rosa refused to give him a pill. He had to get up. He had to look presentable for Shannon’s funeral.

  Shannon’s funeral!

  How was that even fucking possible?

  He barely survived the day.

  A few days later, his mother asked him to try to come downstairs to see his cousins. It was Christmas day. He pulled the blanket over his head.

  Sometime after the New Year, the pills were cut off completely. His mother was afraid he was going to end up with a drug addiction. Did that even matter?

  He made it out of bed almost every day to sit at the window bench and look out at the Long Island Sound. Something about the water managed to bring a slither of peace to his black soul. Unconsciously, he would pick up the tiny velvet box off his side table and twist it around his fingers as he gaze out the window for hours.

  The days bled into weeks, each one an empty void of misery.

  He knew there was talk between his parents of mental illness, of not coping with grief in a normal manner. He told them firmly that if they even considered bringing in a professional, he would head back to his apartment in Manhattan. He made them a deal, he asked for more time, another month or two, then, if he still couldn’t cope with his loss, he’d gladly see a shrink.

  On no special day in particular, his father stopped by his room to check on him. Charles sat down at the far side of the window bench. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like I’m a prisoner in this hellhole,” Chad replied in a voice void of emotion. He didn’t bother looking at his father, he kept his gaze on the vast body of water.

  “Why don’t you leave the room, then?” Charles asked, exasperated.

  “Not a prisoner in this room,” Chad clarified, “in this world. I can’t live without Shannon and I can’t join her without destroying you and mom.” He looked over in time to see deep concern flash in his father’s eyes, causing him to feel a twinge of guilt. “Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal,” he added quickly.

  Charles nodded. “Why don’t you open the window, Son,” he suggested. “It’s a beautiful spring day.”

  “Spring?” Chad asked, confused.

  Charles nodded. “Yes, it’s spring. You’ve been sitting in this room for over three months.”

  “Three months?” Chad repeated, hardly believing his ears. “What date is it?”

  “It’s April first,” Charles replied.

  “Holy fuck!” Chad said. “How?”

  “You’ve been in a thick fog for a long time, Son,” Charles said sadly. “Too long.”

  “I can’t believe it…” Chad mumbled, wondering how time had gone by so fast.

  “What’s that in your hand?” Charles questioned suspiciously.

  Chad stopped flipping the little black box between his fingers. He pulled open the lid and held it out so that Charles could see the two and a half carat diamond resting on the soft, velvet cushion.

  “You bought that for Shannon?” Charles questioned.

  Chad nodded. “The day before I left Israel, I went to buy her a Christmas present and ended up dropping fourteen thousand on this instead. I wanted to give it to the funeral director before she was…she was… buried…” The words burned his throat on the way out. He shrugged. “…I still wanted her to have it, to take it with her, but I guess I forgot. It was a crazy day.”

  “You wanted to marry her?” Charles asked.

  Chad nodded. “I wanted her forever,” he replied and gave his father a bittersweet smile.

  Charles squeezed his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at his son intently. He leaned over and squeezed his son’s knee. “I’ll be right back,” he announced and left the room.

  Chad stared back out the window and let the water hypnotize him.

  When Charles returned, some twenty minutes later, he didn’t bother knocking before he barged in. “Jump in the shower and get dressed,” he ordered.

  “What?” Chad asked.

  “I want you to take a ride with me,” Charles explained.

  “Dad, I don’t think—”

  “Please, Son. We’ve allowed you to wallow in here for months. I’m asking you to please leave this room for one afternoon.”

  Chad blew a deep breath through puckered lips. He could read on his father’s face how important it was to the older man. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Give me twenty minutes to get dressed.”

  Charles led Chad to his two-seater Beemer. He stuck in a Franz Liszt CD and raced down the long driveway. For a man who travel by limo often, Chad knew his father still enjoyed the art of fast driving.

  As soon as they merged onto I-287, Chad knew they were not heading for Manhattan as he had surmised. “Dad, where are we going?” he asked.

  “For a drive,” Charles replied. Something in his tone told Chad he was withholding information.

  They made small talk as the miles went by. Charles filled Chad in on some family drama involving a feud between two of his cousins, then went on to talk about every single thing that happened in his office over the last three months.

  After some time, Chad noticed that they were riding on I-380. “Pennsylvania?” he asked skeptically. “What’s in Pennsylvania?”

  “Just something I wanted to show you?” Charles confessed.

  “Did you buy land?” Chad questioned.

  Charles shook his head.

  Twenty minutes later, they were driving down a residential street.

  “Where is this?” Chad asked, looking perplexedly out the window.

  “Scranton,” Charles answered matter-of-factly. He slowed down, scowling at the road works that was consuming the entire left side of the road.

  “Water main break,” Chad guessed.

  Charles nodded and pulled the car to the right. He stopped just before a convenient store. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chad watched his father walked half a block up then cross to the left side of the road. He stopped in front of a small, two-story house. He jogged up the steps and reached the top just as a slender young woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair, opened the door.

  Chad was surprised to see the girl throw herself into his father’s arms and hold on for dear life. “What the fuck!” he said aloud. He leaned forward and watched the exchange between the two. From the distance, he could tell the girl was upset by the way she put her hand over her mouth.

  Although it was too far away for Chad to see her face, something about the girl’s stance was strangely familiar, and caused a flutter in his gut.

  His father walked quickly back toward his son.

  The young woman stood on the top step of her house, looking down the street in the direction of the car.

  Chad exited the BMW and leaned over the top. “Who is she?” he called out when his father was close enough to hear.

  Charles didn’t answer until he was right in front of his son. “Her name is Allyssa Mathers,” he exclaimed.

  “Allyssa Mathers,” Chad repeated, noting that the name did not ring a bell. He looked back toward the girl and shook his head. “Dad, there’s something…there’s something about her…”

  Charles looked deeply into his son’s eyes and nodded once.

  “Something about her reminds me of…” he shook his head again.

  Some bizarre compulsion had him pushing away from the car and walking toward the girl.

  As he grew closer, he realized that the young woman was crying—hysterically. Her eyes were glued to his approach and spilling heavy tears down her pretty face.

  And then, he realized that it wasn’t just her stance that was familiar
, it was everything about her, everything except…her hair…the hair was all wrong.

  Chad stopped short and froze.

  No, it couldn’t be…it just couldn’t be. Clearly, he was losing his mind. He was experiencing some sort of illusion.

  His body trembled uncontrollably.

  He bent over and put his hands on his knees, trying to calm his breath. He felt faint and wondered if he was about to collapse.

  He inhaled deeply and looked back up to see the girl still glaring at him, her hand up to her mouth, her pretty, green eyes still gushing tears.

  He put his hand on his forehead and stared back at her, his head swimming. Their eyes locked tight, neither one of them moving.

  And then, the word pushed passed his lips, the word that was choking him, clogging up his throat. “Shannon?” he called out.

  She scrunched her face and nodded vigorously.

  He put both hands on his head and turned in a complete circle. What sick joke was this? What kind of a person would pull an April Fools prank of this nature?

  He let out a loud sob and looked back at the strange girl, expecting to see her as she really was. She was still crying, still gazing at him. She still had Shannon’s face!

  “Shannon!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. She tore down the steps and ran toward him. She crashed into him full force. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back and fell to his knees, taking her with him. He kissed her face, her head, her hair, over and over, crying along with her.

  Charles was suddenly beside him, coaxing him up.

  He held on to the girl for dear life as he followed his father.

  The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a small living room with Shannon on his lap. His face was buried in her neck as he told her he loved her repeatedly.

  He heard his father cough abruptly, a reminder that he was present.

  Chad looked over toward the older man with pleading eyes. “Dad, what’s going on?” he asked in a broken voice. “I’m so confused.”

  Charles senior sat with his hands folded on his lap, regarding his son carefully. He lifted his head slightly. “Understand, Son,” he began. “The Cartel would never have stopped looking for her unless they believed she was dead.”