She’s beautiful in the tall, skinny, blonde Victoria Secret model way. At first, I couldn’t believe Matt hadn’t slept with her. She’s gorgeous. Hanging out with the two of them, I learned there are two sides to Tiffany. The person she is with Matt is carefree, relaxed, loving, happy, and easy to be around. The person she is away from him is judgmental, rude, snarky, snobby, and overall as stuck up as I’ve ever seen. That side of Tiffany was challenging for me in the beginning. I saw so much of the real her, I slowly ignored the catty side; eventually becoming blind to it.
Matt’s mother is coming today. Tiffany is concerned both her father, as well as Matt’s, may accompany her. The less drama there is for my ex, the better. I don’t know that she is remotely prepared for the emotions today will bring.
Closure, that word again; that’s what they say funerals bring - closure. I don’t buy it for a minute. There is no closure in tragic, unexpected loss. Rather, there is no closure in loss at all. It’s just simply that, a loss. Matt’s life was cut all too soon. Today will not make that loss any less. It will not close the wound left at his absence. This is about honoring a man who sacrificed it all for his country. I will stand at Tiffany’s side, hold and comfort her as best I can. Honoring my best friend, by stepping in where he can no longer. Matt never would want Tiffany to face this alone.
Today, we lay you to rest, as your casket lowers in the ground, we will mourn your presence here on Earth, and the impact you made on our lives. Rest in paradise, my brother. Take your angel wings, fly free, soar above the clouds, watch over us, and know that we are waiting for the day we can fly free with you. Tonight, I will pour out a beer for my friend, a drink we will never again be able to share.
Chapter Eight
Not the Time, Not the Place
Tiffany
The ride behind the hearse is surreal. If Harrison didn’t have such a grip on my waist, I’m sure I would have fallen by now. My legs are shaking, knees weak as we are watching the military pallbearers remove the flag covered casket. Following our deep routed small southern town tradition, Matt is being buried in his family cemetery. I was astonished when his mom requested this, but couldn’t deny her. Settling into the rows of chairs for family under the tent, I stop myself multiple times from reaching out to the coffin; reaching out to feel connected to him somehow, just one more time. My brain registers that I can’t, but my heart won’t let go.
The chaplain begins the service. Slowly, reality is washing over me. He is gone. The words of the service aren’t registering as the emptiness is consuming me. I hadn’t noticed the lineup for the twenty one gun salute previously. As the cadence is called for seven Marines to begin the routine of the three volley shots, I feel a prickle throughout my body. The shots ring out, my loss filling me. Hollowness further engulfs me as the first sound of the bugle over takes me. My entire body is now trembling, as I can no longer contain my sobs through the sounds of Taps playing by the solitary Marine.
The movement in front of me doesn’t register immediately as my brain is in a fog. Matt’s flag is being folded. I lean into Harrison. I cannot accept this. Yes, I lost my friend, practically my brother. His mom, she lost her son. The only moment of composure I manage is to nod my head to the chaplain, giving him the sign with my hand to present the flag to her. Lost in my own grief, I can hear the sobs beside me as she engulfs the flag within her arms.
It’s time now, time to move on, and time to find out who Tiffany Richelle King really is. Matt was right. I will never be happy here. His life may have been cut short by numerical standards, but he was full of life. Matt was always taking chances, up for a new adventure, and not one to be held back. Loyal to those closest to him and always kind to everyone. He was brave, full of honor, a true friend, a kind soul, and a great man.
Who am I? A cold, snobby, and insecure bitch. That’s not who I really am, that’s who I let everyone see. I’m really loving, loyal, and sensitive. I’m also weak; very weak. Matt was always there to pick up the pieces, now he’s gone.
Time to be brave, Tiffany. Time to broaden your horizons and step out of what’s expected of you. Time to claim your life.
We are escorted back to the waiting limo for our return to the funeral home. Things are still happening around me like an out of body experience. I feel a hard tug on my arm as I’m being pulled away from Harrison.
“What do you think you’re doing young lady?” My father’s voice sharp in anger.
“Ummm, I’m not sure what you’re referring to sir.” I stammer out in reply.
“Who is this beside you? Why would you come arm in arm with some stranger to this event? Have you no pride?”
I can’t contain my anger. “The man beside me is Harrison. He’s no stranger to me or to Matt. This is no event, it’s a funeral.”
Before I manage say anything more, Harrison steps between my father and me. “Sir, this is neither the time nor the place.”
“Who are you to tell me when the time or place is to speak to my daughter? You’re a jarhead, nothing more. People who can do no better join the Marines.”
Without warning, Harrison swings, punching my dad. This is going downhill fast. My dad recovers, looking at me as he’s wiping the blood from his nose.
“Who are you to disrespect the sacrifice a Marine makes? Who are you to disrespect every single man and woman who give up their lives to be committed to the corps? We go where we are needed, when we are needed, to protect your freedoms. Having zero say in where we live, being deployed for months sometimes over a year, going on floats that are six to nine months out at sea, being away from our families with zero communication at times. We do all of that so a jackass like you can stand here in your stuffy suit and tell me I’m a fucking jarhead. Well, yes fucking sir, I’m proud to be a Marine. I’m proud to have served side by side with men of honor, courage, and commitment such as Matt. I’m proud to be the son of a Marine who served his country for twenty years. I’m proud of the man I’ve become because of the Marines. You can think less of me and my fellow service members all you want, in the end you look like the jackass you really are.”
My dad now stunned to silence glares at me. “Are you ready to go Tiffany? The limo is waiting.” Harrison says, interlacing our fingers.
“Yes, Harrison, I am. I have nothing left here.” I manage barely above a whisper. I’m not sure either male caught the double meaning in my statement. I mean it, though, every last word. I’m ready to leave. There is nothing left here in South Carolina for me.
Harrison
The ride to the funeral home is one in silence. I need to get myself under control. Pride overtook my self-control back there. I never should’ve let Tiffany’s dad rile me like that. That was not the time, not the place, and certainly not the way I needed to react to his goading.
After arriving at the funeral home, Tiffany is handed an envelope containing the cards of condolences. We silently finish up and leave there in her car to head back home.
We arrive at Tiffany’s condo. Both of us exhausted with the emotions of the day, the evidence is found in our somber expressions. I need to figure out when I’m returning to Charlotte. With Brayden and Maggie away on their honeymoon, I’m sure Ryder and Jake are drowning in work. I don’t want to leave Tiffany feeling alone, but my life is in Charlotte now.
“Tiff, do you need anything tonight?” I ask, looking for a general conversation with her.
“No, Harrison, I don’t need anything.” She whispers.
She’s so broken now, lost almost. Can she handle this loss? Matt always told me she wasn’t as strong as she seemed. He always said she was fragile, like glass, and needed to be handled with care. He was always worried that one day she would be too lost, gone, beyond repair.
As much as I need to return to Charlotte, now is not the time to drop this bit of news on her. We both escape the silence to change into more comfortable clothes. In her guest room, I’m feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. Now in sweats and a t-
shirt, I go in search of her.
As I approach her bedroom door, I can hear the sounds of her crying. Instead of knocking, I enter. She’s sitting on her bed. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tank top, holding a stuffed tiger tight to her chest while sobbing into it. Without a word, I sit on her bed, pulling her into me. We sit there for a while, her crying, me gently rocking her. Exhaustion overtaking, I pull us both back onto the bed. It wasn’t long before we were both soundly sleeping, me on my back, Tiffany in my arms, draped across my chest, clutching her tiger.
Chapter Nine
My Way Out
Tiffany
Tomorrow isn’t promised, I’m living for today. Waking up in Harrison’s arms is a good way to start my new beginning. I know he has something back in Charlotte with Sophia. We’ve talked briefly about her. I don’t want to mess anything up for him. I would like a chance at friendship, plain and simple. Knowing I will most likely, never again, find myself wrapped in his arms I take a few extra moments.
My doorbell rings taking me out of my reverie. Harrison wakes at the sound. I get up to answer the door with Harrison on my heels. Opening the door, I’m shocked. Although, I shouldn’t be surprised to find my father standing there. Outside of Matt, I don’t really have friends, and certainly no one to visit me. He hands me an envelope but never enters my condo.
“After your blatant disrespect to me and the years of your misplaced loyalty to Matthew, I’ve decided change is in order. You have ten days to be out of this condo. I’m here to retrieve the keys to the BMW.”
Stunned, I stand there motionless. Harrison is moving behind me. Before I can stop him, the keys to my beloved car are in my dad’s hands, and the door slamming in his face.
Harrison
What kind of prick does this to his only daughter? Matt wasn’t embellishing about the way they were both raised. Tiffany buried her best friend a mere twenty four hours ago. Now her dad is taking away everything else she knows. The girl in front of me looks lost and broken, beyond repair. Matt’s biggest fear becoming a reality.
Instinctively, I reach out and pull her into my arms. Gently rubbing her back I hear her whispering.
“What do I do now?”
Guiding her along with me, I take us over to the couch. What is she going to do? She works for her dad. I’m sure that job no longer exists.
“What do you want to do, Tiff? This is a chance to start over, do anything, and go anywhere.”
“I have no clue. Given the circumstances, I guess I need to buy a car and find a place to live. Then I can spend time contemplating my career as I’m sure my job is no longer my own.” She blankly states.
She’s not crying. She’s overly calm. Eerily composed, as if she’s given up on everything. The light is gone from her eyes. She’s going through the motions, feelings tightly tucked away.
“Come on, Harrison, let’s get dressed and go buy a car. I have enough in savings for that, if I get something other than a BMW. Matt had me on his bank account just in case and that should cover my moving expenses as long as I downsize. I was his beneficiary, the funeral home said I should get the life insurance money within thirty days. I can live off of that until I sort out my career.”
Again, she’s too calm, too collected. This is all too easily sorted. Shouldn’t she be falling apart?
She whispers, “Matt is still protecting me from the grave. He’s provided my way out, the way out I’ve waited to find the courage for.”
There it is. She is okay with this. She’s wanted out. Things from the past make a lot more sense now. She may not have expected this today, but she’s always wanted it. And Matt in his own way is taking care of her once again.
Chapter Ten
This Isn’t Goodbye
Tiffany
Harrison has been with me almost a week now. Judging from his phone calls, he’s needed back in Charlotte. Thanks to his help, I now drive a sensible, yet sporty, Toyota Scion xC. It’s a cute car, well within my savings account budget, but definitely not my BMW. I’m adjusting to my smaller condo, but I’m in the same complex as before.
What to do about my career? I have a college degree. The one my father chose and paid for. He always said, “The key to success in my business, Tiffany dear, is advertising and marketing. Educate yourself in that field for the longevity of the business.” I did just that. I hate the work, but it did prove useful in the business world.
My thoughts drift as I look up to find Harrison in the kitchen with me. He’s shirtless with sweats hanging so low that the bubble of his ass is all that’s keeping them up. The ‘v’ of his hips calling to be licked, the dark trail of hair begging to be followed to the gift hidden below. He’s still as muscular as two years ago. His tattoos on glorious display. The black and gray leopard’s tail wrapping his hip, ending in the hidden depths of the sweat pants, as the body wraps and claws its way up Harrison’s right side. I reach out, tracing the animal and all of his spots.
The words surrounding the under belly of the animal, written in a beautiful script, draw me in. ‘To thine own self always be true.’
“A leopard never changes its spots. He’s strong, fast, sleek, stealth-like, fierce, and focused. A reminder of who I am at my core, and to never change.” Harrison states, not removing my hand from his body.
This tattoo ends with the leopards head peeking out from under Harrison’s armpit facing his chest. Inching closer I take in more of Harrison’s ink. I sigh, remembering when he and Matt got their eagle, globe, and anchor Marine Corps tattoos. My attention moves away from that part of his chest to the words now inked in script over his heart. ‘Never settle for less than complete unconditional love and acceptance’. It’s then that Harrison places his hand over mine as he says.
“The words are true, Tiffany. Don’t settle for less. Love and be loved for exactly who you are. Accept no less.”
His words hit me to my soul. Captivated and intoxicated by this man, I boldly go up on tip toes and gently kiss him. Yes, I am playing with fire, but I can’t help myself. Briefly, I brush my lips across his. Anticipating the rejection, I begin to pull back. Only, the rejection doesn’t come. Harrison’s hand is now on my head, fingers in my hair, pushing me back to him for more. My mouth opens, ever so slightly, allowing him to take over, invading all of my senses as our kiss deepens, igniting in passion.
The kiss is fresh and familiar, all at the same time. The demand and dominance in Harrison is new and refreshing. Our tongues, however, explore each other in the same familiar routine as they did for so long; it’s like being home again. Wrapping my hands around his waist I pull him into me. His sweats unable to hide the erection he’s developing. Knowing I still affect him like this only heightens my desire.
He breaks away only long enough to remove my shirt. As he crashes down on my lips again, I moan in pleasure. His hands now on my breasts, I arch forward pushing them further into his caress. Finding my nipple rings, he gently rolls one as he tugs, almost harshly, on the other. The pleasure combined with the sharp, unexpected pinch in his tug turns my insides out. As I break away to breathe, Harrison chuckles against my neck.
“Oh Tiff, baby, I love those piercings.” Harrison whispers in my ear.
Lust overcomes both of us as I push his pants down taking his long, thick shaft in my hand. The velvety feel of his skin is a stark contrast to the firm hardness of his cock. The softness of his skin bodes of a gentleness that is overshadowed by the power, size, and firmness of his dick. He may feel soft, he may be the kindest man on a date, but Harrison is a beast in the bedroom. He’s growing even harder under my touch. Reaching the head of his penis, I feel the little metal balls that adorn his kings crown piercing. The multiple dydoe piercings surround the head of his penis, hold promise for complete ecstasy reaching nerve endings you never thought possible. Liquid pools deep in my core at the memories of feeling Harrison’s pierced cock deep inside of me. I leisurely stroke him as the power of our kissing over takes me. My tongue now craving the tas
te of his saltiness. My mouth seeking the fullness of sucking his cock. Before I can give into this desire, Harrison has removed my shorts and panties, lifting me onto my kitchen counter.
Kissing me fervently, his fingers now find my folds, rubbing and teasing me. My thoughts and hand now abandoning Harrison’s dick as I get lost in the sensations throughout my body.
It’s been two years since the last time he touched me, two years since I’ve had anyone touch me. As he inserts one finger into my core, I’m rocked deeply. He maintains an almost torturously slow pace. I want to push against him but his other arm is snaked firmly around my hips, holding me immobile. His head now pressed into the crook of my neck as he nips, sucks, and licks at my neck and collar bone. I moan, trying to clue him in that I need more.
He whispers with a rasp to his voice, “trust me Tiffany, let me go slow, I will give you the release you crave, but let me go slow.”
For us, it’s never been like this. Hard, fast, and shared control. I feel helpless to my lust, my desires, and to the power Harrison holds not only over my body but my heart. I hear an echo in my head, a simple reminder, ‘let him love you, Tiffany’. At that, I realize I need to let Harrison have his control, trust him to take care of me. Consumed in the slow, gentle pace, I manage to nod my head okay. At that, he removes his finger from my core; wrapping my legs around his waist he carries me to my couch. He’s over me, kissing his way down. At my breasts, his takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking in as he rolls my nipple ring over his tongue. I’m going to combust. He then continues south until he reaches the juncture of my hips. Breathing over my mound, he smiles up at me.
“I’m going to claim your pussy, Tiffany, it’s mine today.”
Love and Repair Series Box Set Page 31
