by Michelle Lee
Answering him the only way I know how in this instance, I lean up and pull my shirt over my head and his hands instantly cover my breasts. His warm touch causes my heated skin to break out in a billion goose bumps as always. My breasts fit perfectly in his hands, as if they were made just for him. His hands reach around and easily undo my bra. The straps fall down my arms, exposing my pebbled skin. He looks adoringly up at me as I straddle his lap. Dash nuzzles his face between my breasts, inhaling deeply. I do the same, my nose only millimeters from the top of his head. I instantly commit his scent to memory. Wishing I could bottle it up and take it with me, I’m afraid I’ll forget it.
Dash begins to place sweet kisses between my breasts and trails them up my chest to my neck, ultimately finding my earlobe and sucking it into his mouth. A moan escapes me. His mouth finds my ear and he whispers into it, “I love you. You’ll always be my Sunshine, no matter how far apart we are.” His words flow from his mouth straight to my heart. I am suddenly overcome with the sense that I can and will do this. His words drive home that knowledge.
I cradle his face in my hands and stare intently into his smoldering blue pools. “I love you. Dash, you are my everything now, no matter what.”
A wide smile spreads across his face before it settles into the crooked smirk I have come to love and adore. My lips reach forward to touch his, but before they can, Dash flips me over so his strong, muscular frame is hovering over mine. His hard length presses into my hot, wet core.
“Dash,” I breathe.
“Jules,” he answers back, his voice relaying in it so much emotion, love, and strength.
Our clothes effortlessly find their way to the floor. Our naked bodies mold together, becoming one. My legs part and Dash slowly and caringly enters me, filling me. My hips lean up to meet his, to take him deeper. He begins to gradually move inside me, his eyes never leaving mine as he does. They burn into me, holding me captive. It’s almost like staring directly into the sun, yet I can’t turn away. Dash continues to lovingly push in and out of me, never quickening the pace. He wants this to last as long as it can, just as I do. His hand reaches down between our bodies, easily finding my clit that he knows how to play so well and begins to caress it, causing a surge of intoxicating pleasure to erupt inside me. Even though we are moving as if time is standing still, I feel my insides coil up, my orgasm close to the edge. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside me. We are connecting like we never have before. I am no longer just Jules, and he is no longer just Dash; we are one being, one body, one soul, and one mind.
Dash thrusts inside me a few more times, his fingers still strumming my bundle of nerves, and then my body erupts in the most mind-numbing orgasm it has ever had. My body shakes and shudders as Dash pushes inside me one last time, his muscles tightening as he releases deep inside me. He places a tender kiss on my lips; our eyes never lose focus, never losing sight of the person before us. My arms snake around his back and I pull all his weight against me, wanting and needing to feel all of him. Dash nuzzles in my hair and long sigh escapes him, signaling what we both know… it’s time. Slowly he releases me, his length leaving me, and I feel emptier than I have ever felt in my entire life.
Dash hands me my clothes, and the two of us get dressed in complete silence. I make my way out of the bedroom suite, and before I can get to the door, Dash grips my wrist and spins me into him, tightly embracing me.
“I wish,” he begins.
“Me too,” I answer.
His hands cup my cheeks, and he passionately kisses me. His tongue seeks out mine, and I eagerly welcome it with mine. Our kiss deepens; our tongues tangle and tease each other. Both of us put everything we have into this kiss, knowing that it will be at least a month before we will see each other again. The thought is enough to make me crumble. We both pull away at the same time and walk torturously to the door. I open it, and his hand instantly closes it.
“Stay,” he begs.
“Dash, I can’t. You have another month here and Hank has been accommodating, but I really need to…” I can’t finish.
He simply nods his head.
“A couple of months, that’s it,” he adds.
“A couple of months,” I echo.
He kisses me one more time. This time our lips barely touch, but the electricity between us is palpable. He opens the door, and I step out into the hallway. I feel the tears trying to burst forward but will them to stay concealed until I am alone. I can’t bear to break down in front of him again. Neither one of us can handle it.
“I love you.” His voice is a raspy whisper.
“I love you,” I reply, my voice betraying me.
He stands in the doorway as I slowly turn and make my way to elevators. I feel my heart detach itself and flee, running back to the man standing alone behind me. He owns my heart completely. I turn around when I reach the elevator doors and see him standing completely still, his hands clenched into fists at his side. I want to run back to him, to hold him and never let go or leave him. But the reality of it sinks in, knowing that it’s not feasible to stay. The elevator dings, and the doors open. I take a small step inside, preventing them from closing and momentarily close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
When my eyes open, they are staring into a sea of blue. My dam breaks, and a rogue tear finds its way down my cheek. Dash reaches for my cheek, and his thumb gently brushes the tear away. He leans forward, his scent swirling in the air, and again I mentally commit it to memory, along with his face, the feel of his body near mine; everything that makes Dash, Dash.
“Soon,” he says.
“Soon,” I mimic.
His lips graze mine slightly and then he deepens our kiss, pulling me into him. The elevator doors begin to close on us, and both of us instinctively push them open. We break our kiss and he rests his forehead against mine, breathing deeply. His eyes tightly close and his face shows nothing but pain. I so want to wash it away, but I don’t know how because I’m sure my face mirrors his. I reach down deep inside me and pull whatever strength and courage I have. I kiss him one last time and enter the elevator. Dash hesitantly steps back, and the doors slowly begin to close. His lips mouth “I love you” and mine do the same. Before the doors close completely, separating us, Dash’s eyes begin to glisten and then he is gone. I push back against the wall and let my emotions wash over me. How am I going to live the next couple of months without seeing him, without touching him, without him?
The tears come more easily, and I make my descent to the lobby. The elevator dings its arrival to my destination and upon their opening, Val is there. I rush into her arms and she holds me close to her, words of love and encouragement whispered in my ear. We make our way through the lobby and out into the street to our awaiting car. I am numb, and if it weren’t for Val, I don’t think I would be moving. We make our way into the car and drive off to the airport. On the way, my dam breaks completely and I huddle against Val as she simply holds me. The car makes its way through the streets, and all I can think about over and over is that it’s hard to live when you’ve left your heart behind.
THE BRIGHT NEON-green glow of my clock announces that it’s one twenty-three in the morning, and I still haven’t fallen asleep. I stare at the ceiling, willing my eyes to close, willing my body to succumb to the fatigue that has settled in since working out with Tracy. Working out with Tracy; her idea of keeping my mind off Dash. Like that was ever a possibility. He is always on my mind. Always. Our moments together are just that—moments. Fleeting pieces of time where we connected via phone or Skype. Precious moments that never last long enough. I live for those moments. I live to hear his voice—the deep vibration coming through the phone and caressing my skin. Those phone calls come at random times whenever he can find the time. Lately there haven’t been as many. Actually the last few times I’ve tried to call him, it’s gone straight to voice mail.
Roland has been running the guys ragged. They do a concert, have a meet and greet, go
to interviews, and have done a few more photo shoots. A part of me gets the feeling that Roland is doing this all on purpose just to keep me out of Dash’s life as much as possible. I’ve voiced my opinion about it to Tracy, but she just says I’m being crazy and silly. This is what bands do; and Redemption is no different. I believe her because she’s the band guru and I’m not. She also said that Roland has more important things to worry about, and I am just a miniscule blip on his radar. A miniscule blip… I didn’t feel like a miniscule blip while in Rome.
It’s after we Skype that I break down the worst. Seeing him and not being able to touch him. I ache to touch him. And him telling me the same makes it hurt that much more. I try my hardest to stay strong while face to face—actually screen to screen—with him. I don’t want to add more to the pressure and stress he’s already under. I can tell this tour is taking its toll on him. His eyes don’t shine as bright, his smile isn’t as panty dropping, and his voice has lost its edge, so to speak. Dash says he’s just tired and that his next day off he will be doing nothing but sleeping. I can’t help but think it’s something more. I’ve wanted to say something, but I either chicken out or he has to go. I’ve chickened out on telling him about Blake as well. I don’t think saying something about it over the phone or screen to screen is the appropriate way to go about it. Russell has called to check up on me and has asked if I’ve mentioned to Dash anything about the situation with Blake. Of course when I tell him not yet, he huffs and puffs like the big bad wolf. He gives me a warning not to wait too long or… he never finishes. I know he’s waiting for me to do it and won’t do it himself. I still feel like the proverbial clock is ticking and hopefully not turning into a ticking time bomb.
I roll over, clutching my pillow; wishing it wasn’t my pillow. Wishing that it had strong arms to wrap around me, a chest I could nuzzle my face against, the warmth that only he can provide me. I grip the pillow tighter; tears threaten to spill forth. I’ve been lost since I got back a couple of weeks ago. My body goes about its business, but my mind has practically shut down. I almost feel like Adam Sandler in Click. My body is on fast forward, just going through the motions of day-to-day living, but my mind has checked out. Yep, I have his remote. Unfortunately I can’t fast forward to when Dash comes home. Dash. Home. And like every night I’ve laid in bed since coming back, my dam breaks and my pillow instantly becomes damp. I slowly cry myself to sleep.
I AM SUDDENLY jolted out of a fitful sleep. My bed is literally moving; actually, it’s bouncing. My head may be pounding, but this unwelcomed movement at this ungodly hour can only mean one thing or more appropriately, one person—Tracy.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Tracy’s shrilling voice cuts right into my pounding brain.
She is way too fucking happy. “Tracy, not now,” I mutter into my pillow.
“Jules, come on. I think it’s time you shake loose your ‘I’m lost without Dash’ routine and take on a healthier mindset. Don’t you think? Besides, this depressing attitude isn’t doing anything for your complexion. That’s why I’ve booked us a day of pampering at the spa,” she enthusiastically informs me.
“Tracy, I’m not…” I begin, but as always, Tracy is one step ahead of me and interrupts.
“Bullshit. Listen, Jules, I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, because I don’t. But I do know a thing or two about being depressed and letting it consume you. It’s not healthy, and it’s not going to change the fact that Dash is still on tour and will be home when it’s all said and done. In the meantime, you are going to suck it up and be that strong, vibrant woman not only Dash loves, but we all love,” she scolds me as if I’m a child.
What options do I have? None, really. When Tracy has a plan, well, let’s just say it isn’t pretty to go against her.
“Fine.” I submit to her will.
“I knew you’d see it my way.”
“Like I had a choice,” I mumble into my pillow.
“Nope, you didn’t. And when are you going to learn? Okay, so go shower and change,” she starts as she heads for the hall. “Oh. and one more thing. Lose the sweats; they are really unattractive and will clash with my outfit. Put on your skinny jeans and… and… oooo that red top with the strappy back,” she insists.
“Anything else?”
“Nope, that about covers it for now, but I’m sure I will think of something else sooner or later. Oh, and if I’m betting, it will be sooner. Now, just hurry up, I’ve got big plans for us today.” And she’s gone.
I hear the television turn on and instantly hear Tabitha dissing someone’s hairstyling abilities. Obviously Tracy has hijacked my DVR and taped Salon Takeover on Bravo. Great.
I slowly make my way out of bed and enter the bathroom, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror, and turn on the shower. Within seconds the bathroom is engulfed in steam. I inhale deeply, trying desperately to clear the cobwebs from my head. Tracy is right. This isn’t doing me or Dash any good. I need to woman-up; Dash wouldn’t want me to be like this. Woman-up—now there’s an idea.
With my mind made up, I decide to change my attitude and take a look at my reflection. What I see startles me. My hair has lost all its luster. There are dark purplish circles under my eyes, indicating that I haven’t been sleeping well. What really stuns me are my collarbones; they are protruding so much more than usual. Have I lost weight? When was the last time I ate, I mean really ate? I rack my brain trying answer the latter question, and I honestly don’t remember when I ate last. All I recall is every time I tried to eat something, it settled in my stomach like a lead ball and eventually found its way out. The vision before me is of a woman I don’t know, a woman I don’t want to know, a woman Dash will not know. I vow right here and now to start taking better care of myself. The thought of Dash seeing me like this crushes me, for I know it will crush him.
The ringing of my cell phone breaks me of my reverie. I dash out of the bathroom, stub my little toe on the corner of the nightstand, and dive for my phone before my body lands on the bed. I wince with pain as I hit the green button on my phone.
“Hellll-ooo,” I squeeze my eyes shut as I see stars behind them.
“Sunshine, are you okay?” a velvet, soothing voice questions on the other end.
Instantly, the pain subsides. Dash.
“I was a little clumsy and stubbed my baby toe. It was so worth the minor injury to hear your voice.”
“It’s so good to hear your voice too, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m totally good. How are you? How’s the tour?” I quickly ask, pinching myself, thinking that this is all a dream.
“I’m better now that I finally get to talk to you. I’m so sorry we’ve missed each other the last few times. The tour has been hectic. I feel like I never have a moment’s peace. I snuck away just so I could talk to you. I’m sure any time now Roland will come huffing and puffing around the corner to find me.” He chuckles.
I suddenly have an image of Dash hiding in the shadows, trying to blend into the scenery, his hand hovering over the phone so no one can hear him and find him. I giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
I can hear him giving me that lopsided grin through the phone. My heart skips a beat. Forget the hot shower; I’ll need a cold one. “I was just picturing you hiding out.”
“I’ve so missed your laugh. Are you really doing okay? Be honest with me.”
“I’ve been better, and I’m really better now. I miss you so much, Dash,” I answer, my voice wavering.
“I know, I miss you so much too,” he returns, his smooth voice cracking.
I clear my throat and shake the desperate feeling consuming my body. “So, you’ll be home soon, right?” I hope he says yes, but I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Roland has thought up something else for the guys to do and it will delay Dash’s homecoming.
“In sixteen days, seven hours, and eight minutes, give or take a second.”
“I’m count
ing too.” I giggle, looking at the calendar on the wall with its red Xs.
“Shit. All right, I’ll be right there. Jules, I’ve been found. I gotta go. I’ll try to call again as soon as I get a chance,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Um, okay.” I try to keep the disappointment from my tone.
“Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” Dash’s tender voice comes through the phone and wraps around me, comforting me.
“I love you too,” I give back, the tears beginning to spill forth.
“Soon,” he offers.
“Soon,” I mimic. And the line goes dead.
I don’t hold back as I enter the shower, my sobs overwhelming me. Neither a cold or hot shower is going to help.
I would be lying if I said the day at the spa did nothing for me, because in all honesty, it did. Of course, Tracy was her usual I-told-you-so self when I told her a day at the spa was what I needed. That was hours ago, and now I’m back at home—alone. I usually don’t mind being alone; actually I usually love my alone time, but lately not so much. It’s when I’m alone that my mind wanders and misses Dash the most. I try to keep myself occupied—researching vineyards I could visit, new chefs coming on the scene that show great promise, new wines from vineyards no one’s ever heard of; my list goes on and on, but still it’s not enough. It’s never enough. But it’s what I’m doing now, researching about Chef Montclair in San Francisco. He’s classically French trained but puts a modern spin on traditional dishes. Like Scallops A La Montclair—cognac flambéed scallops, with black risotto and an apple cider and cream sauce. My mouth waters just thinking about it. I will definitely have to talk to Hank about taking a trip to San Francisco, and soon.
