“Jesus, Kalli,” he said, holding me still, pulling me down onto him, and forcing me to take him so deep. “God, I love you,” he said, his forehead pressing into mine, then kissing me seconds later.
I rotated my hips, grinding down onto him, gasping as the direct friction against my clit sent electricity through my body. “I love you, too,” I moaned quietly, rocking back and forth on his cock, afraid to lose the connection, afraid if I backed off him one centimeter I’d never feel that close to him again. “Promise me,” I rasped, shamelessly using his body to bring pleasure to mine, throwing years of worry and constant fear away, letting all my walls down. “Promise you’ll never leave me.” I said the words with both hands clasped to the sides of his face, eyes looking directly into his, voice hitched, breathing ragged.
“Never,” he growled, pulling on my hips, matching my rhythm, doing his part to bring me to orgasm. “You’re a fucking part of me, Kal.” His words sent me over the edge, caused every muscle to contract, squeezing him, then release as a loud moan escaped me and my head fell back.
Mid-orgasm, his lifted me up and placed me back on the bed, positioned one of my legs over his shoulder, and then entered me again, but achingly slowly. He eased in, inch by inch, drawing out my orgasm, filling me completely. Once I’d come all the way down, he pulled out and stroked back in, his eyes glued to where our bodies connected, one hand running up and down my thigh at his side, the other holding on to my waist.
I couldn’t watch, the sensations taking over, so I closed my eyes, wanting just to feel him. With my fingers gripping the sheets below me, feeling him pumping in and out, his hands gripping my ass to bring me to just the right angle, and all the sexy groans he was making, my body was in overdrive.
“Fucking Christ….” I heard him mutter as he thrust one last time. When he finally pulled out, he collapsed on the bed next to me, pulling me in to his side, breathing heavy with a sexy grin on his face.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself,” I managed after I’d caught my breath.
“Oh, I’m pleased all right. But I’m more pleased with you than anyone else.”
“Is that so?” I asked, smiling while trailing my finger in small circles over the damp skin of his chest.
“Baby, I’ve spent weeks fantasizing about getting back inside of you, but you just blew all my fantasies out of the water. Nothing compares to watching you ride me, feeling your tits up against my chest.”
“Tits?” I scoffed, pretending to be offended by the term.
“You don’t like the word tits?”
“It’s a little objectifying, don’t you think? I mean, they’re my breasts.” I waved my free hand over them, trying to emphasize my point.
“Babe, they can be your breasts any other time, but when I’m inside you, they’re tits.”
“So, I can only call it your cock when we’re having sex?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Feel free to refer to my cock whenever you want.” I laughed as he placed a quick kiss against my lips and then hopped out of bed, pulled on some workout shorts, and quietly snuck to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, he slid back into bed, pulling my back to his front and wrapping his arm around my middle.
“All jokes aside,” he said quietly as he twined his fingers with mine at my belly, “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve missed you more than I could have ever imagined.”
My heart swelled at his words, knowing it was perhaps rare to find a guy who was so forthcoming with his emotions, so open to discussing how he felt or what I meant to him. It was becoming more obvious each day I spent with him, either in person or from a distance, that Riot Bentley was not a typical man. It had also become clear to me I was a very lucky woman to have him, so I snuggled in deeper and replied, “I missed you, too.”
Chapter Seventeen
Accepting Help
Riot returned from his scheduled workout to an anxious and hyper Marcus, jumping up and down, begging Riot to hurry so we could leave for Legoland. Riot moved at warp speed, showering and dressing faster than anyone I’d ever seen, and in minutes we were in the car, heading south. Marcus was occupied in the car by a tablet and I was happy just to sit in the passenger seat with Riot’s fingers laced through mine.
Legoland was a sight to behold and I was instantly nervous about bringing Marcus someplace so big with so many people. I didn’t want him overwhelmed, but I also didn’t want to become overwhelmed myself. I was so very glad Riot was there with us. Probably for the first time ever I was accepting help from someone who wasn’t paid to be there. This was a big step, and it almost reminded me of the days when Marcus and I were a part of a real family. I looked at Riot, whose arm was wrapped around my shoulders as he laughed and said something funny to Marcus, and I let my heart expand just a little.
Any single thing you could possibly imagine, this place had built it out of Lego blocks. It was amazing. There were buildings made of Lego blocks, replicas of actual cars, even Darth Vader and Yoda. Each and every one we passed Marcus would exclaim, “I want to make that!”
“You’re going to need a lot more blocks to make that, buddy,” Riot said, clapping him on the back and laughing as they admired a life-size locomotive made of Lego blocks.
We saw all the demonstrations, rode the Lego roller-coaster, drank frozen lemonade, and even managed to find a store to buy a lifetime supply of Lego in every color imaginable.
Around lunch time we found a stand that sold hot dogs with every type of fixing one could imagine. Marcus was sold on the idea so we got in line, but my previous bottle of water had me looking for a restroom.
“Marcus, tell Riot what you’d like and then let’s go find a bathroom.”
“I don’t have to go,” he said defiantly.
“Well, I do, so please just tell him what you want.”
“Kalli, can’t I just stay here with Riot? I don’t want to go to the bathroom.”
I rolled my eyes because I could feel the tantrum coming and my need for the restroom became more evident with every second.
“Kal, I’m fine if you want to go. We’ll probably be in this line forever anyway,” Riot said, rubbing his hand down my back.
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely, just hurry back,” he said with a wink.
“I just want a plain hot dog, nothing fancy,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Marcus, listen to Riot and I’ll be right back.” I had the mom finger out, pointing it at his face, as if that would make my words sink in any more than usual.
I followed the signs to the restroom and was met with a huge line and I sighed, trying to keep my mind off my bladder. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Facebook and answered a text from Megan about helping Ella plan her bachelorette party. Finally it was my turn and I nearly gave a victory cry.
When I returned to the hot dog cart I saw neither Marcus nor Riot. I spun in a slow circle, looking for where they would have sat down to eat, but I still didn’t see either one of them. My eyes narrowed and I searched again, but when, on the third pass, I still hadn’t seen my brother or my boyfriend, I began to panic.
I pulled out my phone and called Riot, but it just rang and rang and then went to voicemail.
“Marcus?” I called out, still spinning a circle. Where in the world would he have gone?
“Kalli!” I heard Riot’s voice above the buzz of the park and turned to see him running toward me, dodging and weaving between people to get to me.
“Good God, Riot. You scared me. I couldn’t find you guys. Where’s Marcus?”
“I don’t know.” He breathed heavily. “We were in line and then I turned around to ask him something and he was gone.”
“What do you mean he was gone? Where’d he go?” My heart started beating faster and I could feel the prickling of panic start to course through my veins, adrenaline making every one of my senses wake up.
“I don’t know,” he repeated, obviously frustrated, running a quick hand
over his head as he turned, searching for my brother.
“You lost him?” I yelled.
“He just disappeared, Kal. I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze finding mine, his eyes full of apology.
Just then a park employee walked past us and I snagged his arm.
“Where do I go if I have a lost child?”
“I can take you to the family center,” he said immediately, obviously used to dealing with missing children and their frantic parents. He took my elbow and started leading me through the park.
“Shouldn’t we stay where we lost him?”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll get all the employees looking for him and when we find him, we’ll bring him to you. Now, can you give me a description? What’s his name? What does he look like? What was he wearing? How old is he?” He was still gently pulling me through the park, walking quickly and making his way through it much more efficiently than I would have, obviously because he knew the park like the back of his hand.
I tried to answer his questions but my eyes kept darting to every head of dark hair I saw, trying to find Marcus, and I couldn’t concentrate on describing him.
“His name is Marcus, he’s about five foot eleven, shaggy brown hair, and he was wearing blue jeans with a red Lego Movie t-shirt. He’s seventeen years old.” I heard Riot’s voice describing my brother and I was filled with rage I didn’t quite understand or have time to analyze at that moment.
The guy walking with me turned his face toward me. “He’s seventeen? I thought you said he was a child?”
“He is,” I exclaimed. “He has a mental disability and, for all intents and purposes, is just like a seven year old. He looks like a teenager, but he’s not. He’s just like a little boy.” At that, I began to cry. “He doesn’t know where I am. He’s probably scared.”
“Ma’am, it’s all right. Listen, most of the time when we find kids, they’re having the time of their lives and haven’t even realized they’re separated from their parents.”
I didn’t bother correcting him by mentioning that I wasn’t his mom. I just nodded and hoped he was right.
He finally brought us into a building and sat us down in chairs while he made an announcement into his walkie-talkie, describing Marcus and his special circumstances.
And then we waited.
After ten minutes I began to pace through the small building.
After twenty minutes I began to cry again.
At thirty minutes I tried to leave and look for him myself, Riot stopping me and making me sit.
Finally, after forty-five minutes, someone’s voice came over the walkie and said they’d found him and were bringing him to the family center. It took another ten minutes for the door to open and my baby brother to walk through.
I ran to Marcus and wrapped him in a hug, crying inconsolably, caring not one bit how crazy I looked.
“Marcus, you scared me,” I cried.
“Kalli, don’t cry. That was awesome! I got to meet Lego Batman! He was super nice and gave me this hat.” He pulled away and pointed to his head where he did, indeed, have a new hat.
“Marcus, why did you wander off? You know better than that,” I scolded.
“I didn’t wander off. I told Riot I was just going to go see Batman for a minute.” He looked at Riot, his eyes confused. “I told you. I didn’t just leave.”
“Yeah, but buddy, I told you to wait until your sister got back. I asked you to stay with me.”
“Then what?” I asked, my voice cold and angry. “You just turned your back on him? You dismissed him? You can’t do that, Riot. You have to keep an eye on him, you have to make sure he stays with you.” I was yelling and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be in the room or in that building or in that state. I wanted to leave.
“Come on, Marcus. Let’s go.”
“Kalli, I’m not ready to go. We haven’t even seen everything,” Marcus whined.
“Kal, we don’t have to leave. Let’s just calm down and take a breather,” Riot suggested.
“Calm down? You lost him, Riot.” My words and my tone must have communicated exactly how extremely angry I was because both Marcus and Riot stopped arguing with me and simply walked with me out of the building and back to the car.
Once it was unlocked I motioned for Marcus to climb in the backseat and I got in right behind him, needing space from Riot. I could tell he was biting his tongue, wanting to say something to me, but he was smart enough to know I didn’t want to listen to him at that moment.
The entire ride back to LA I stared out the window and wiped away single tears as scenarios played out in my mind, scenes in which Marcus wasn’t returned to me unscathed, or wasn’t found at all. In the back of my mind I knew I was being a little dramatic or unreasonable, but I couldn’t argue with the part of my brain that knew if I hadn’t left him with Riot, he would never have gone missing.
We arrived at Riot’s apartment and I quietly asked Marcus to pack up his bag.
Kalli, your flight isn’t even until tomorrow,” Riot pleaded quietly. “Please, you don’t have to leave.”
“I’m too angry to stay here right now. I just need some space.”
“I’m not ready to go!” Marcus complained.
“Come on, Marky. Don’t do this. I just need you to pack your bag.” I turned to Riot. “Can you call us a cab, please?”
“You won’t even let me take you to the airport?”
I shook my head and walked back to his bedroom, but I heard him following me. “Kal, please, you have to believe how sorry I am about Marcus. It was an honest mistake. He just disappeared.”
“An honest mistake?” My voice rose with my anger. “An honest mistake? Do you have any idea what could have happened to him, Riot? Any number of things could have happened, and I’m just lucky that someone found him while he was still safe and unhurt.”
“God, I know that. You don’t think I know that? I was just as freaked out as you were.” His hands swiped furiously through his hair, his agitation evident.
“No! You don’t get to pretend like you have even one tenth of the love for him that I do. I’ve been there for him his whole life. His whole life. You can’t crash into our lives and possibly care for him as much as I do after a few months. If it weren’t for you, he never would have gone missing to begin with. It’s your fault.”
I watched as my words hit him like an arrow slicing through the air, connecting with the red circle, splintering its target.
“It was an honest mistake,” he said, his voice a whispering ghost of what I was used to—empty and sad.
“Yeah, well,” I said as I threw my clothes into my bag. “It’s a mistake I never would have made. Coming here, obviously, was one though.” From the corner of my eye I saw his mouth open to say something, but then it closed and his head hung low.
There was one tiny part of me that immediately regretted saying those harsh words, but the majority of me felt justified and too angry to even consider it being out of line. When I was sure I’d packed all my stuff I sat on the couch with Marcus, waiting for our cab.
The cab came and honked, Marcus grumbled about having to leave, and Riot refused to let us carry our bags. I wouldn’t look at him as he took mine from my hand, anger still coursing through my veins. I climbed into the back of the cab, not giving him a second look. I did notice him hand a hundred-dollar bill to the driver to cover the ride, and the nastiest part of me thought it was the least he could do.
We managed to make it onto a flight that left at dusk, and as the plane climbed into the sky, I couldn’t help but feel I’d left something behind.
Chapter Eighteen
Fear of Being Left Behind
Three weeks passed and I hadn’t spoken a word to Riot. When we arrived home from our flight there were flowers waiting for me with an apology note, but I was still too angry to appreciate them. Not hearing from me, however, hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. Flowers arrived three times a week, always with a sweet
note, begging me to forgive him, explaining he missed me, urging me to just call him.
I received a text two times a day; once in the morning, once around bedtime, all from Riot, mostly telling me that he loved me, trying to convince me to call him. Some of them were funny, some of them were normal texts one would send to one’s girlfriend, just telling me about his day. It was emotional warfare.
At first, I was legitimately angry with him. Perhaps ridiculously so, but I felt it was justified. But a week passed, the flowers came, the texts continued, and my anger waned.
Nancy had gotten the low down on what had happened, but she got her information from Marcus, as I didn’t have anything to say about the matter. Until, one night, about ten days after we’d come home early from California, she cornered me as I did dishes.
“When are you going to forgive that poor man?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, Kalli; it’s not becoming.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn’t see me. “I’m not sure I haven’t forgiven him,” I said quietly.
“Then why haven’t you called him? Why are the Please Forgive Me flowers still arriving like clockwork?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.”
“Kalli, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been a particularly stubborn person. Strong? Yes. Opinionated? Definitely. But not stubborn, and not to the point of throwing away something wonderful.”
“You weren’t there, Nancy,” I said quietly as I turned off the faucet. “He was just gone. Vanished. Anything could have happened to him.”
“And it could have happened to anyone,” she said quickly. I felt those words in my bones because I knew they were true. I’d lost him before, taken my eyes off him for just a moment only to realize he was gone. I knew it wasn’t Riot’s fault that Marcus had wandered away.
“I know,” I whispered. “I overreacted.”
“Good, well at least you can admit that much. But I want to know why.”
Never Standing Still Page 19
