She leans back, her hands light on my sides. "I think we have a date, don't we?" Her hand slides down the front of my pants. "Something about taking your cock for a test drive."
"I might die if you don't stop with the bad jokes." But her hand feels good, driving away the darkness, leaving only the soft pleasure of her touch.
"But they made you smile," she whispers.
I kiss her then, my tongue sliding deep, filling her, tasting her, telling her without words what I can never say.
Because she did more than make me smile. She brought me back into the light.
Chapter 30
Abby
“What about these?” Josh holds up a box of red-hot-flavored condoms. Who knew the prophylactic aisle at the drug store had gotten so risqué?
I lift one eyebrow and try not to laugh. “Those are not going anywhere near my girl parts.”
He slips his index finger into the waistband on my pants and tugs me forward. “What, you don’t like the idea of a fire pussy?”
“No, no I don’t. I imagine it’s somewhat like Icy Hot and that just doesn’t strike me as a good idea.” I have never in my life done anything like this. It is awkward and funny and sweet.
I brush my lips against his mouth. What is meant as something light and teasing turns suddenly serious. Heat snakes down my belly and I very much want to be out of here. “Can we just get some and go?”
It’s bad enough that the clinic had been closed today for inventories or something.
“I think that’s a good idea.” His voice is thick and rough, all teasing gone.
We get what we need and leave. It is a painfully long walk to my apartment.
Then I close the door behind us. I turn the lock. And then we’re standing, together, apart. Not quite touching, not quite not. His chest is there, brushing against mine. I am afraid to move. Afraid to break the spell.
Afraid to face what I feel for this man. It is twisted in the heat and the promise of pleasure.
“I don’t really know what comes next,” he whispers against my mouth. He is still barely touching me, his hands hanging by his sides.
“Tab a into slot b?”
He grins and just like that the spell is broken. He threads his fingers into my hair, pulling me against his mouth. Tasting, his tongue a slow glide against mine. I lean into him until I fall against him. His arms come around me, pulling me close. The space between us disappears and I resent my clothing and his.
“Are you ready for this?” I whisper. I need the answer. I need to know this is the right thing–for him, for me.
“I’ve never been more ready in my entire life.” He cups my face. “I need you, Abby. Only you.”
“I—that’s nice to hear,” I whisper. Because it is. I don’t know how to hear it, how to really feel those words but they vibrate across the space between us and settle around my heart.
He kisses me then and I’m not sure I said the right or the wrong thing as he lifts me and carries me the short distance to my bed.
“How about you tell me what you want?” he whispers. His long body is pressed to mine. The urgency is still there. Still potent and simmering just beneath the surface.
I slip my fingers beneath his shirt. His skin is hot and smooth beneath my touch. The hair on his belly is springy against my palm as I slide my hand lower, lower. Under the band of his pants.
I have never seen such pleasure on a man’s face from a simple touch. His eyes are closed, his lips parted. His breath is rough and ragged as my fingers close around him. He’s not quite hard, not quite soft. I squeeze him gently and beneath my touch, he swells, stiffening.
“I want to touch you.” The words are strange, filled with urgency and need.
He flicks the button open on his pants, giving me access to his cock. He thickens as I stroke him. His hands fall away, clenching at his sides, letting me set the pace.
“I love it when you touch me,” he whispers. “It feels so fucking good.”
“I love touching you.” I lean in, my lips near his ear. “It gets me wet.”
He jerks as the words drift over his skin, his hips rocking gently in time with the slip of my hand over the moist tip of his cock.
I release him and push his t-shirt over his head. Then his pants are gone and he’s there, naked and glorious in front of me.
“Tell me, Abby.” His breath is hot against my skin.
It doesn’t last. The moment my pants hit the floor, he is behind me, his big body surrounding me.
It doesn’t last. I can feel him, hard and urgent against my ass. I rock my hips against him. He shivers. “Do that again.”
I slowly, so slowly, slide my hips against his. His cock is nestled between my cheeks, pressing somewhere intimate and unfamiliar and erotic.
“Christ, you’re driving me crazy.”
He turns me in his arms, lifting me until his cock is pressed to my core.
“You have no idea.”
It is torture watching him roll the condom into place, wondering how this will go.
And then he steps back between my thighs. “I want to watch,” he whispers against my mouth. “I want to watch my cock slide into you. I want to watch you come.”
I twist my arms around his neck and kiss him, hard, drawing him close until his cock presses against my heat, sliding against my clit where I am aching and swollen. I need this. I need him. I rock my hips, and he slides against me again, the sensation erotic and new.
He scrapes his tongue across my throat, nipping gently. He nips at my breasts and pleasure spikes through me, hot and needy. “Please.”
He drops to his knees, and I close my eyes at the sight of him between my thighs. “Beautiful,” he whispers.
Then he touches me with his tongue and I am lost.
Josh
She is beautiful when she comes. Her lips part and the shivers run through her body and into my mouth. She tastes like vanilla and honey. I could feast on her for days, just to watch her come again.
I love that I get to share this with her. That I am the one tasting her, teaching her how it feels to have a man’s mouth on her pussy. It’s something I never considered before but with Abby, everything is about discovery. For her and me.
I slide one finger into her where she is tight and wet and pulsing. I want her ready for me. The idea of hurting her, even during sex, is enough to make me shrivel. But I stroke her, with my tongue, with my fingers, driving her closer to the edge a second time.
She’s making tiny noises in her throat, mewling, urgent sounds that are driving me a little crazy. I reach down, stroking my cock, the condom sliding over my skin. My balls tighten and I’m close, too damn close.
I kiss her belly, her deep, dusky rose-colored nipples, her throat, finally claiming her mouth as I edge my cock where she is calling for me.
She wraps her arms around my back, her thighs tight around my hips. “I want you inside me.”
I cup her neck, lowering my forehead to hers as I slide a little inside her. She’s tight, so fucking tight. “Oh god.”
A prayer. A curse. A plea. I have no idea. The pleasure overwhelms me. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this.
She is heaven. Tight and squeezing and pulsing. I slip my thumb over her clit, stroking her as I slide into her fully, deeply.
Her breath is unsteady and quick. Her breasts rise and fall with her quick gasps.
“I can die happy now,” I whisper.
“Don’t you dare.” Her words against my lips. Her legs slide around my hips and she rocks against me, urging me to move. Slipping from her body, then back in, slowly, slowly feeling her adjust to me. Claiming me fully.
“More.”
Her head drops back, her nails dig into my shoulders. I’m driving into her now, losing myself in the rhythm, the tiny cries she makes as the distance between us is consumed until there is nothing between us but sound and sex and belonging.
This. This is where I
belong. With Abby.
My balls tighten and my orgasm rips through me. I am lost. I am found.
I am home.
“I love you.” The words tear from me. I am clinging to her. To the life she has brought me back to.
She releases her nails from my back, slipping her palms over my skin as she pulls me close.
Her response slides over my ear and wraps around me, a balm on my heart.
“I love you.” The words I didn’t know I needed to hear.
Epilogue
Abby
I understand now. I understand what it means to find someone who fits you and what it means to love them no matter what.
I understand what it feels like when someone loves you for who you are. Not who they want you to be.
I know Josh isn’t done dealing with everything from the war. I know there will be more dark times.
But as I step into the darkness and find him waiting for me after my shift, I’m willing to take the chance. I’m willing to walk through the darkness with this man.
I press my lips to his, my heart full tonight.
“What’s that for?” he asks.
“Just because.”
His lips crease at the corners just like they did when I first met him. “Sounds like a pretty good reason,” he says lightly. He cups my cheek and deepens the kiss and I don’t care who is watching. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” I brush my thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
“I’m supposed to say let’s be responsible adults and study for our exams.” He brushes his nose against mine. “But instead, I’m going to suggest we stay in bed all day.”
I make a tsking sound. “I’m not sure how I feel about you leading me down the path of irresponsible behavior.”
“I know how I feel about it.” He leans close until his breath is hot on my ear. “I can’t wait to hear you make those sounds you make when I’m inside you.”
Heat slides over my skin and settles between my thighs. “We won’t talk about the expression you make when you’re getting ready to…”
He claps his hand over my mouth. “I’m not secure enough in my manhood for you to start picking at my masculinity.”
Beneath his hand, I laugh, then slide my arm around his waist as we walk down the dark path away from work.
I don’t know where things are going with him.
I only know that I love him enough to go with him. Into the darkness.
And hope there will be enough light to guide our paths.
Keep reading for a look at the first book in the Falling series, Before I Fall.
I thought I could do this. I thought I could leave the war behind.
I was wrong. I can’t do this. I can’t go to class and pretend like everything is normal. That I’m normal. I’m not. I’ve lost everything that matters to me. But I made a promise.
And if I’m going to keep that promise, I have to focus. I have to pretend that I belong on this southern campus that drips with old money.
And I have to pass stats. That’s where Beth comes in.
I’m terrified she’ll see through me. That the careful lies
and easy smile won’t be enough to convince her that everything is fine.
That she’ll see how broken I really am.
But there’s something about her that draws me closer. A
sadness in her eyes that am powerless to resist.
I should walk away. Protect her from the broken, darkness in me.
Before we both fall into something neither of us can control
Chapter 1
Beth
My dad has good days and bad. The good days are awesome. When he's awake and he's pretending to cook and I'm pretending to eat it. It's a joke between us that he burns water. But that’s okay.
On the good days, I humor him. Because for those brief interludes, I have my dad back.
The not so good days, like today, are more common. Days when he can't get out of bed without my help.
I bring him his medication. I know exactly how much he takes and how often.
And I know exactly when he runs out.
I've gotten better at keeping up with his appointments so he doesn't, but the faceless bastards at the VA cancel more than they keep. But what can we do? He can't get private insurance with his health, and because someone decided that his back injury wasn’t entirely service-related, he doesn’t have a high enough disability rating to qualify for automatic care. So we wait for them to fit him in and when we can’t, we go to the emergency room and the bills pile up. Because despite him not being able to move on the bad days, his back pain treatments are elective.
So I juggle phone calls to the docs and try to keep us above water.
Bastards.
I leave his phone by his bed and make sure it's plugged in to charge before I head to school. He's got water and the pills he'll need when he finally comes out of the fog. Our tiny house is only a mile from campus. Not in the best part of town but not the worst either. I've got an hour before class, which means I need to hustle. Thankfully, it's not terribly hot today so I won’t arrive on campus a sweating, soggy mess. That always makes a good impression, especially at a wealthy southern school like this one.
I make it to campus with twenty minutes to spare and check my e-mail on the campus WiFi. I can't check it at the house - Internet is a luxury we can't afford. If I’m lucky, my neighbor’s signal sometimes bleeds over into our house. Most of the time, though, I’m not that lucky. Which is fine. Except for days like this where there’s a note from my professor asking me to come by her office before class.
Professor Blake is terrifying to those who don't know her. She's so damn smart it's scary, and she doesn't let any of us get away with not speaking up in class. Sit up straight. Speak loudly. She's harder on the girls, too. Some of the underclassmen complain that she’s being unfair. I don't complain, though. I know she's doing it for a reason.
"You got my note just in time," she says. Her tortoise-shell glasses reflect the fluorescent light, and I can't see her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am." She's told me not to call her ma'am, but it slips out anyway. I can't help it. Thankfully, she doesn't push the issue.
"I have a job for you."
"Sure." A job means extra money on the side. Money that I can use to get my dad his medications. Or, you know, buy food. Little things. It’s hard as hell to do stats when your stomach is rumbling. "What does it entail?"
"Tutoring. Business statistics."
"I hear a but in there."
"He's a former soldier."
Once, when my mom first left us, I couldn’t wake my dad up. My blood pounded so loud in my ears that I could hardly hear. That’s how I feel now. My mouth is open, but no sound crosses my lips. Professor Blake knows how I feel about the war, about soldiers. I can't deal with all the hoah chest-beating bullshit. Not with my dad and everything the war has done to him.
"Before you say no, hear me out. Noah has some very well-placed friends that want him very much to succeed here. He's got a ticket into the business school graduate program, but only if he gets through Stats."
I’m having a hard time breathing. I can’t do this. Just thinking about what the war has done to my dad makes it difficult to breathe. But the idea of extra money, just a little, is a strong motivator when you don’t have it. Principles are for people who can afford them.
I take a deep, cleansing breath. "So why me?"
"Because you've got the best head for stats I've seen in a long time, and I've seen you explain things to the underclassmen in ways that make sense to them. You can translate."
"There's no one else?" I hate that I need this job.
Professor Blake removes her glasses with a quiet sigh. "Our school is very pro-military, Beth. And I would consider it a personal favor if you’d help him."
She's right. That's the only reason I was able to get in. This is one of the Southern Ivies. A top school in the southeast t
hat I have no business being at except for my dad, who knew the dean of the law school from his time in the army. I hate the war and everything it's done to my family. But I wouldn't be where I am today if my dad hadn't gone to war and sacrificed everything to make sure I had a future outside of our crappy little place outside of Fort Benning. There are things worse than death and my dad lives with them every day because he had done what he had to do to provide for me.
I will not let him down.
"Okay. When do I start?"
She hands me a slip of paper. It’s yellow and has her letterhead at the top in neat, formal block letters. "Here's his information. Make contact and see what his schedule is." She places her glasses back on and just like that, I'm dismissed.
Professor Blake is not a warm woman, but I wouldn't have made it through my first semester at this school without her mentorship. If not for her and my friend Abby, I would have left from the sheer overwhelming force of being surrounded by money and wealth and all the intangibles that came along with it. I did not belong here, but because of Professor Blake, I hadn’t quit.
So if I need to tutor some blockhead soldier to repay her kindness, then so be it. Graduating from this program is my one chance to take care of my dad and I will not fail.
Noah
I hate being on campus. I feel old. Which isn't entirely logical because I'm only a few years older than most of the kids plugged in and tuned out around me. Part of me envies them. The casual nonchalance as they stroll from class to class, listening to music without a care in the world.
It feels surreal. Like a dream that I’m going to wake up from any minute now and find that I’m still in Iraq with LT and the guys. A few months ago, I was patrolling a shithole town in the middle of Iraq where we had no official boots on the ground and now I'm here. I feel like I've been ripped out of my normal.
Break My Fall (Falling #2) Page 19
