Never Standing Still

by Anie Michaels

  He pressed a small kiss to my lips. “You need to give yourself more credit. You wouldn’t be friends with the kind of people who could hurt him. Give them the opportunity to know him. Odds are, they’ll be better for it. I am.”

  My heart immediately swelled at his words, my breath catching in my lungs. “How in the world did I get lucky enough to find you?” I whispered, my eyes welling with tears.

  “Hmmm, we’ll debate later who’s the luckiest between the two of us, but in the meanwhile we should probably send Lexi Black a thank-you note.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and then pressed another chaste yet electric kiss against my lips. Just then, Marcus returned to the table, hand out, and smile bright.

  “Can I have some more money?”

  “Please?” I insisted, raising my eyebrows at him for not being polite.

  “Please, may I have some more money?”

  Riot handed him another ten dollar bill, but kept his hand captured in his as he took it. “This is the last one, buddy. Then we have to head home, all right?”

  “All right,” Marcus agreed.

  “Good man,” Riot said, letting his hand go.

  An hour later Riot was leading us into his temporary apartment.

  “It isn’t much, I’ve only been here for about two weeks,” he said nervously as he opened the door. Marcus clomped in, heading straight for the couch in the living room and I swept my eyes over the white, stark, bare walls and nearly empty rooms. The living room had a couch and a tiny, wheeled cart with a TV atop; the dining room had only a small table with two chairs. There were no curtains, no pictures on the walls, no character at all. “The couch pulls out so I thought Marcus could sleep here.” Riot’s eyes narrowed a little, as if he were trying to communicate something nonverbally. “You can stay on it with him if you want, or….” His voice trailed off and I finally grasped what he was trying to say.

  “It’s okay, Marcus is a bit of a bed hog. I’ll stay with you, if that’s all right?” I asked, laughing. I saw his shoulders relax as he exhaled.

  “All right.” He dropped Marcus’ bag on the floor next to the couch, then took my hand. “My room is back this way.” He led me down the narrow hallway through one of two doors. The room was tiny and just as bare as the rest of his apartment. He set my bag down on the bed and turned to me, his hands finding my waist. “I’m sorry about that out there. I didn’t want to just assume you’d be sleeping with me, and I didn’t know what was all right to say in front of Marky.”

  My hands cupped the sides of his face, completely loving the way he not only thought about those sorts of things, but also that he used my brother’s nickname. “You’re fine, babe. He doesn’t think about those kinds of things. At least, I don’t think he does.” I rose up onto my toes, trying my damnedest to reach his lips with mine, but he had to lean down to reach me and we both laughed as our lips met each other’s.

  His arms wrapped around me, lifting me, and we both breathed into the kiss. It was a relief to be in his arms; everything felt better when I was wrapped up in him.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said against my mouth, backing up until his legs hit the bed. Then he sat and arranged me on his lap so I was straddling him.

  “I’m happy to be here,” I mumbled in response, my body reacquainting itself with his, my hands running up along his arms and shoulders, back down his chest, over his ribs. His hands traveled quickly to my ass and stayed there, making me smile.

  “Your apartment is a little sparse,” I noted as his mouth moved down my throat, kissing and licking his way to my collarbone.

  “This is just some place the studio threw me for a few weeks. I can stay here if I want,” he said, then placed more wet kisses back up the other side of my neck. “But then I’d have to give up my apartment in San Francisco.”

  “I’ve never even seen your place,” I said with a frown.

  “I’ve got a few weeks there still if I choose to give it up. You’ll just have to come back soon.”

  I saw in his eyes he was asking me more seriously than he was letting on. My heart both expanded and hurt at his words. There were times when we were apart where I missed him. It mostly came at night when I had time to lie in bed and think about him and how far away he was, but usually I wasn’t spending a lot of time lamenting the fact that we were apart. Perhaps it was because the whole relationship was new, or relationships in general were new to me, but I hadn’t gotten to a point where I was upset for missing him.

  But as I sat there on his lap, with him, witnessing the look in his eyes, I wondered if he was happy with our situation, or if he was beginning to regret starting a long-distance relationship.

  “Is this too hard for you?” I asked, apparently out of nowhere because Riot’s eyebrows rose and a confused look came over his face.

  “What? You sitting on my lap?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head and moving away from him slightly. “This. Us. Is it too hard for you to be with me because of the distance?” I was asking because I was curious; I wanted to know if he was happy and I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure he was. He still wore a confused look. “I mean, like, do you miss being with someone regularly?”

  “Are you asking if I miss having regular sex?” his voice was louder and his eyes narrowed even more.

  I shrugged.

  “Do you miss having regular sex?” he asked accusatorily.

  “I was never having regular sex,” I defended, then climbed off his lap. The motion of getting off him seemed to offend him more than the question and he grabbed my hand, pulling me back toward him.

  “Don’t go away, just stay here,” he said, bringing me right to his knees, which he spread and then brought me even closer. “Why are you asking me these questions?” Both his hands gripped both of mine, holding me close to him.

  “You just seem like you missed me a lot,” I said, my voice meek and mousey.

  “And…?”

  “And it occurred to me that you might not have realized what you were signing up for when we decided to be exclusive.”

  “I was only aware that I was signing up for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.” I sighed.

  “You don’t think I can handle a few weeks without sex? I don’t miss sex, Kal. I miss you. I don’t miss sex with random women, sex with women who are only there because they think I’m somebody famous, or going to be famous, or can introduce them to someone famous. When I think about you, and miss you, I’m not missing the sex. Sure, I think about sex, fantasize about it, but I don’t miss sex. I miss sex with you. I miss holding you while you sleep. I miss that perfect smile that comes across your mouth when you think of something funny, even if you don’t tell me what it is. I can’t see that on the phone, I can’t hold you through the phone. I can’t trace the freckles on your shoulders on the phone. I miss you, Kalli.”

  “What if eventually it becomes too hard?”

  “What do you mean? What kind of difficulties are you anticipating?”

  “What if the phone isn’t enough? Or one day you decide you don’t want to date someone so far away anymore?”

  “I think, eventually, we will get to the point where the phone won’t be enough, and I won’t want to date someone so far away. I think that’s the natural path a relationship takes. Eventually, if you see this working out between us, we’ll have to figure out a way to be together.” He must have noticed the panic in my eyes, must have felt the breath that stalled in my lungs, because he started shushing me and running his hands over my body. “Don’t freak out, baby. That is so far away right now, I’m not trying to scare you.”

  “I’m not worth all this,” I found myself saying. The words surprised even me, as I’d always been a pretty self-confident person. But in that moment, all I could think was that I wasn’t worth all the trouble he was going through, all the lonely nights and long phone calls. Eventually, he’d be done with me, anyway, right?

 
“Hey,” he said as he stood, pressing closer in to me. “Listen, you are worth it. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. And you don’t get to decide who I want to be with. If you decide you don’t want to be with me one day, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’ll fight like hell before I’ll let you walk, but like I said, we’ll cross that bridge. But you don’t get to tell me who I love, or who’s worthy of my love. I give my love freely to you, because it belongs to you.”

  I tried to nod but it was useless with his hands clasping me. “This is all just a little overwhelming.”

  “What is?” His eyes were worried.

  “Being here, with you. It’s just so right that going back to being away feels almost cruel, and I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to be happy, even if it’s without me.”

  “You stubborn woman,” he said, laughing. “Isn’t that pretty much the definition of love? Wanting the other person to be happy, even if their happiness doesn’t involve you?”

  I gave a pathetic nod again.

  “Then let me love you, yeah?” he asked with a smile. I couldn’t help but smile back, and then his lips bent to mine. It was a softer kiss than we normally shared. He kissed me as if he were afraid I would break or crumble beneath his lips. He was being careful with me.

  When he finally pulled away, I whispered, “I should probably go get Marcus ready for bed.”

  “Okay,” he replied, only pulling far enough away to let his hands still linger on my face. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Show me where the bathroom is?”

  “Easy. It’s the only other door in the hallway,” he said with a laugh. He led me out of the bedroom, showed me the bathroom, and then we walked into the living room to find Marcus lying on the couch watching TV.

  “You ready for bed, Marky?” I asked, trying to sound upbeat after an emotional conversation.

  “Can I watch TV while I’m in bed?”

  “I’m okay with it, but you have to ask Riot.” Marcus’ eyes shot to him, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen.

  “Listen, you get ready for bed fast and don’t give your sister any grief and I’ll let you order a movie. Deal?”

  “Deal!” he practically shouted as he jumped up from the couch, digging in his duffle bag for his pajamas.

  Fifteen minutes later, Marcus was lying on the couch Riot had pulled out into a bed, quietly watching a movie, completely satisfied with his lot in life at that moment.

  “Good night, Marky. I’ll just be in the room down the hall if you need anything, okay?”

  “Night, Kal,” was his only response so I figured he was all right. I did a mental check before leaving the living room: Marcus had the water bottle he liked to keep with him at night, the hallway light was on in case he woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t figure out where he was, and he had the one stuffed animal I’d agreed to let him bring, Scruffy the Squirrel, a ridiculous and mangy-looking stuffed squirrel that his dad had given him when he was about three. He’d looked out into the front yard and become fascinated with the squirrels running through it and my mom got so tired of listening to him talk about the squirrels, that my stepfather finally just went out and found one for him. He’d had it ever since and it was definitely one of those childhood possessions that made him panicky to be without. So, Scruffy was tucked up under one of his arms as he watched his movie and I let my fears subside, silently telling myself that Marcus would be okay for the night.

  I returned to Riot’s bedroom and walked in to find him lying on his bed, looking at his phone.

  “Whatcha doing?” I asked, as I reached for my bag.

  “Halah sent me a text. Apparently she’s at a port and has a good signal, so she just updated all of us that she’s still alive and well.”

  “Still living the good life on a cruise ship?”

  “Apparently,” he sighed. “What are you up to?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Would you mind if I showered? I always feel a little gross after a day of traveling.”

  “Of course not. I think there are extra towels in the cupboard in the bathroom.”

  “Thanks,” I said, leaning down and placing a small kiss on his mouth, then turning and feeling his hand slap me playfully on the ass. I yelped and then laughed, caught off guard. I shot a feigned look of annoyance over my shoulder, but really just swooned on the inside at the boyish grin across his face.

  I took a longer shower than usual, relishing the idea that if Marcus needed anything Riot would be there to help. So I let the hot water work out the kinks I’d gotten in my shoulders from traveling and from being on high alert all day with Marcus in a different city, outside of my comfort zone. When the water started to cool, I reluctantly turned the knob and stepped out of the shower. I’d really steamed up the small bathroom and there was no use trying to dry in there. I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped into the hallway, sneaking toward the living room. As I suspected, Marcus was asleep on the couch, sprawled out across the full-sized pull-out bed.

  I turned back toward the bedroom, walking softly to not disturb my brother. When I cracked the bedroom door open, I noticed a soft light flickering from inside. The door opened further and I saw small candles placed all over the room, all lit, creating the soft light, and Riot standing at the foot of his bed wearing only jeans.

  My heart sped up as my eyes drifted around the room, taking it all in, including Riot’s bare feet. There was absolutely nothing sexier than a man in just jeans with bare feet. Something about it made me feel comfortable. Riot, not surprisingly, also looked sexy in candlelight.

  “Come here,” he said with an adorable nod. So I walked to him, still grasping the towel around me. When I was standing directly in front of him, he reached up and took my hand off the towel and then pulled it open slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re all wet,” he whispered, making my skin erupt in goose bumps.

  “I took a shower,” I stupidly replied. Luckily, he laughed.

  “Turn around,” he said through his soft laughter. So I did.

  He took the towel and ran it over my long hair, squeezing the excess water out. Then he continued down my back, slowly making small circles with the towel, making sure to wick up every drop of water. When he kneeled to move the towel lower, I gasped as he left a trail of soft kisses starting at the top of my thigh and moving toward my calf. Then he moved to the other leg and kissed his way back up. The towel moved over my ass and he gave me a less than gentle squeeze, causing me to moan.

  “Turn back around,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. So I did. My gaze fell to him, kneeling in front of me, his eyes dark and filled with lust. He dropped the towel and I tried to rein in the pounding of my heart when he hooked one hand behind my knee and brought it over his shoulder, his other hand grasping my ass and pulling me toward him.

  I had to grab the footboard of the bed to keep my balance, but my eyes were frozen on Riot and his mouth as it descended upon me. In all our time together, this was the first time he’d used his mouth on me, and it was glorious. His tongue swept through me, warm and rough, kissing me. His hands pulled me closer to him, and his voice rumbled through me as he gave an appreciative moan.

  As his tongue moved over me, my body instinctually tensed, all the muscles tightening, preparing for the onslaught of sensation coming my way. With one hand still on my ass, he moved his other hand to slide two fingers inside me, gently stroking me from the inside as his tongue caressed my clit, taking leisurely strokes over it.

  I moved one of my hands from the footboard to his hair, both to stay upright, but also to keep his mouth close to me.

  “Riot, oh,” I moaned, eyes closed, teeth clamping down on my bottom lip. He replied with a hum right against my clit, sending shockwaves through me.

  The combination of his fingers and his mouth sent me over the edge and I cried out as my climax crashed through me. Before I could regain my composure, he’d stood and lifted me o
nto the bed, splaying kisses up my stomach, stopping to pull my nipple into his mouth.

  “You taste amazing, Kal. Every part of you,” he said, then sucked the hard point of my breast into his mouth again. I arched into him, offering up every last part of me, wanting him to take it all, knowing he’d give me himself in return. I felt his breath on my lips and opened my eyes to see him, my hand automatically coming to the side of his face.

  “I missed you,” he whispered just before taking my mouth with his, kissing me deep, letting me taste myself on him. I reached between us and unfastened his jeans, then took great pleasure in sliding my hands down over his ass to push them off, using my hands and feet to rid him of them entirely.

  Once he was naked he settled between my legs. I sighed my contentment into his mouth, humming with pleasure at how wonderful it was to feel him between my legs, to feel his warmth pressed up against mine.

  “Oh, God, Ri…,” I whispered as his mouth moved to my neck, his stubble scraping the skin there, heightening my already soaring nerves, making every single touch that much more intense. “I need you, please,” I whimpered.

  “Fuck, yes. You’ve got me,” he said harshly, pulling away and reaching for the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out a condom. He wasted no time opening it and pulling it down his length, his movements urgent and speedy.

  He leaned all the way back so he was sitting in the middle of the bed and motioned to me with his finger. “Come here, baby,” he said, his voice low and a serious look on his face. I sat up and made my way to him on my knees, never taking my eyes off him.

  He guided my knees to either side of his thighs so I was straddling him, then pulled gently down on my hips with one hand, while the other guided him into me. I sank down on him and watched as his mouth fell open in awe. By the time I was fully seated on him, we were nearly face-to-face and his eyes found mine.

  His hand came up to push my hair from my face, threading through, then landed on the back of my neck as he gripped me firmly and pulled my face to his.