Goodbye to You

by A. J. Matthews

  He pulls me off the bed, crushing my breasts to his rock-solid chest, teasing the nipples to hard peaks again with the slight mat of hair. He slides down to the floor, hooking his thumbs into my panties on the way down. He skims the thin fabric down over my hips, and I lift one foot after the other so he can take the panties off.

  I stand bare before him, but I’m not the least bit naked or vulnerable as he gazes up at me reverently from his position at my feet.

  I’m cherished and admired and desired.

  And on fire as his tongue lazily circles my clit. His fingers trace a scorching path from behind my knee, up the back of my thigh, before drawing circles on my ass.

  He nudges me back a little, and my legs hit the bed, compelling me to sit down, lay down.

  I open my legs, inviting him to explore deeper.

  He laps at my wetness, sucking my nub and nipping with his teeth as he slides a finger into my tightness.

  He quickens the pace, his tongue impatient on my clit as his finger curves upward, massaging my g-spot. I pant, unable to catch my breath as my hands clench at the comforter and my legs convulse. He cups my ass again, this time to hold my bucking hips to his mouth until I stop shaking.

  As my ragged breathing slows, he slides up on the bed next to me, pulling off his boxers. His wet tongue dances along the curve of my hip, feathery kisses dust my belly and my arms.

  He nuzzles my neck, his warm breath in my ear stoking my desire even higher.

  I pull him to me, spreading my legs to invite him in.

  “No, beautiful. Not like that.” He fumbles around in his nightstand and pulls out a foil packet. He slides on the condom then holds me by the hips as he flips onto his back. He leans against the pillows and reaches up, cupping my breasts, staring at them.

  Spellbound by them.

  I’d felt powerful when he knelt at my feet.

  That was nothing compared to sitting atop this gorgeous, virile man. Being in control of his pleasure.

  I am truly a goddess now.

  I arch over him, taking his thick cock into my hand, teasing him with my wetness. He throws his head back and growls as he arches underneath me.

  I want to prolong his pleasure, like he’d done for me. I’m not sure, though, how much longer I can wait for him to fill me up.

  I slide over him, little by little, then in one fell motion, drop my hips over his pelvis, filling myself. He almost throws me off as he bucks up.

  I grind my hips against his, moving up and down and side-to-side to find the exact spot for both of us. The scent of sex—sweat and pheromones and us—hangs in a heavy fog around us.

  I can’t recall ever feeling like this. So enthralled, so beautiful, so abandoned.

  So in control.

  He tenses beneath me, every muscle in his body rigid as a guttural cry erupts from his throat.

  And the goddess I’ve become with his every touch pumps, slides, and shivers before collapsing atop my own Celtic god.

  Chapter 6

  Shay

  She’s sleeping so peacefully I hate to wake her, but I am starving since we skipped lunch. I ease my arm out from under her head, her silky hair tickling my arm as I slide it out.

  Success.

  My feet slap the cold tile floor, and I bend down to retrieve my discarded boxers.

  Wow. Her face, softened in sleep, had been so expressive when I touched her, tasted her. This had been a crazy few days.

  Not the way I’d expected some of my last days in Key West to be. I’m not complaining or anything. These had been some of the best days ever.

  I’m young, with my whole life ahead of me, but I’ll never forget this.

  Never forget her.

  I fish my phone out of the pocket of my discarded wet shorts and order a pizza from Brenda’s around the corner.

  I open the antique wardrobe and grab a dry shirt and shorts, throwing them on before slipping on some flip-flops. I scribble a note and stick it on the pillow. I ease down the narrow stairs slick with leaves blown free by the storm. The streets are mostly clear of people, but a few chickens had come out of hiding, pecking at the dark purple berries mottling the sidewalk. The rain hasn’t cooled the temperature. Instead, the heat and rain combine to create an outdoor sauna, which intensifies the pungent scent of orchids wafting from our neighbors’ backyard garden.

  Thea complains the humidity wreaks havoc on her hair, but I love it loose and wild. I especially love the way the strands slip through my hands and the way it had tickled my legs when she arched her head back when she was riding me.

  It sucks she’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. I wish I’d met her sooner on her trip. Two weeks with Thea would have been heaven.

  I’ll have to settle for one more night, even though that’s not enough.

  I whistle, something I’m not inclined to do, and it’s a happy song.

  Brenda’s is empty of customers, but Jack, the delivery driver, is stacking up boxes to throw in the car. Lots of delivery orders tonight. Storm clouds still loom in the distance, and folks don’t want to get stuck out in the rain.

  Brenda is working the counter. “Come to help out? Busy night with the deliveries. I could use an extra set of wheels.”

  My first job in high school was here, and I laugh. “My days of driving pies are done, thanks. Just here to get my own.”

  She checks the oven. “Cheeseburger pizza?”

  I nod.

  “Ready now.”

  The heat from the oven in the small kitchen blasts my face even from here. Even with the small A/C unit running, the store is scorching.

  I pay with a twenty, and even though the pie is fourteen dollars, I stuff the change into the tip jar. Key West always seems to be booming, but small businesses like Brenda’s struggled during the national downturn and I want to do what I can to help her get back on her feet.

  I walk out and start whistling the happy song again as I head back home.

  I take the steps two at a time and head into the apartment. “Hello?” I call out.

  No answer.

  The bed’s empty, the note where I left it, and the bathroom vacant.

  I check the floor.

  Her clothes are gone, and her purse, too.

  Crap.

  She’s gone. A vise crushes my chest.

  I grab my phone from my pocket, text her and wait.

  After a few minutes, still no response.

  Impatient, I dial her number, pacing, walking outside. I can’t stand still.

  From the landing of the stairs, I swear I hear her phone ringing from across the narrow strip of yard separating the garage and house, but no one answers.

  I hang up, and the ringing stops. I run down the stairs as fast as my legs can take me, and dart up the back porch to the airy kitchen of the main house.

  Mom and Thea sit in the homey, sunshine-yellow kitchen, sharing tea and perusing old photos at the farmhouse table.

  Thea smiles sheepishly, her face glowing red. What’s that all about?

  “Hey, honey!” Mom gets up and grabs a soda from the fridge for me since I’m not big on tea. She points at the chair next to her and takes her own seat. “Sit down. I’m getting acquainted with your new friend. Your father told me all about her last night. She’s even lovelier than he described.”

  She takes a sip of her tea, glancing between the two of us, her eyes questioning.

  Thea flushes again. “Thank you, Mrs. Kelly.” Her voice is quiet, her eyes cast down.

  “Please, call me Dina. I saw your light on, Shay, and went up to check on your dinner plans. Your dad’s working late and Mac’s staying on for a couple hours at Paddy’s. You didn’t answer your door so I went in and found Thea.”

  Another sip of tea. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and she hides a smile behind her mug.

  Glad she has something else to focus on instead of obsessing about Mac and the car accident.

  Mom wasn’t telling the whole story, so I’d ask Thea when we were a
lone. “Oh, yeah, dinner. I picked up a pizza. Let me go grab it.”

  I hate to leave Thea alone with Mom, but there’s no way Mom’s letting us both go, figuring we wouldn’t come back.

  I return with the box a minute later, and Mom’s got the china out. For pizza. Not a typical Kelly dinner, which would be served on paper plates with soda or beer right out of the bottle.

  “Thea, sweetie, what would you like to drink with your pizza? Soda, beer, iced tea…”

  I mouth at her, “Beer. BEER.”

  She covers her mouth and clears her throat. “Water is fine, Mrs. Kelly.”

  “Keep calling me ‘Mrs. Kelly’ and I’ll insist you call me Mom.” She guffaws, but Thea’s face flushes crimson.

  I cover my eyes with my hand. This isn’t awkward at all. I glance at Thea and mouth the words “Eat fast” while Mom has her head stuck in the fridge.

  I wash my hands and dole out two slices to each plate, putting the box in the center of the rectangular table.

  Mom’s still sitting between us, and with the photo albums piled up on the far end of the table, I’m stuck here on the opposite side.

  “Thea, are you still in school?”

  “C’mon Mom, can we just eat?”

  “Seamus…”

  I cringe, and stop talking. That’s her pleasant way of saying “shut your mouth now.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I still have to complete my student teaching. My mama was an elementary school teacher, and I’m following in her footsteps.”

  “So sweet. I love being around little kids, despite their propensity to spew bodily fluids all over you. They’re so much more pliable before they hit puberty.” Mom reaches over and pinches my cheek.

  I swat her hand away.

  Thea’s forehead is scrunched up.

  I explain, “Mom’s a pediatric nurse. She was working the ER the night we met her. We’d just moved here, and I was sick. High fever, chills, the whole thing. Da panicked and dragged all three of us to the hospital at three in the morning.”

  Mom laughs. “What a sight. Ed, this bear of a man, was near crying. A tiny one clung to his leg, and another ran circles around the waiting room. And this one, pale and shaking and sweating in his brawny papa’s arms.”

  Mom’s face is soft as she gets lost in the memory.

  “You reached down to take me from Da, and I puked all over you.” The thing I remembered the most, though, was how safe and warm I felt in her arms. Rose wasn’t the most…attentive, and favored my twin Liam over me anyway. Mom’s maternal touch was a welcome sanctuary to the sick, sad little boy I was then. Now, when I’m at school and need help with some task and think “I bet Mom would know,” she’s the one who comes to mind.

  Me being critically ill saved our family.

  Mom smiles again and touches my arm. She knows what I’m thinking. Understands how grateful we all are for her every day.

  Thea laughs lightly. “What a sweet story. Even with the vomit.”

  “Ha. More pizza, anyone?” We all chuckle as I grab another slice. I worked up quite an appetite earlier and need my strength for later.

  I plan to make the most of the hours left.

  With no clothes on.

  Thea licks her lips and skims her fingers across the base of her throat, drawing my eyes down to her chest.

  I need to think of a way to get out of here fast.

  Mom’s phone buzzes and she checks her text. “That’s your father. He’s not working late after all. The romantic old bugger has some ‘secret date’ he wants to take me on now, and told me to put on my ‘fancy dress.’”

  She gets up and heads upstairs, calling out, “You kids stay as long as you want.”

  Thea and I glance at each other, hand wash the plates and glasses, and make a mad dash for the door.

  ***

  Thea

  “Mmmmmmmm. Uh-huh. Oh!”

  I’m sitting on the floor in front of Shay’s futon as his magic hands massage the knot out of my neck I’d gotten from sleeping at a funny angle earlier.

  “Tell me.” His hands still. “Or no more neck rub.”

  I gasp, my hand flying to my chest. “Blackmailer!”

  He holds his hands up. “Doing what I must for the information I want.”

  “Hrumph.” I mock-pout, but tell him. “I was in the bathroom, and the water was running. I thought I heard the door creak open. If I’d know it was your mom, I would have climbed in the shower and hidden.”

  “But instead…”

  “Instead, I went in your wardrobe and threw on one of your dress shirts but left it unbuttoned, trying to be sexy. I’m sauntering to the bedroom door, calling out, ‘Come ‘n get it, cowboy.’” My face burns at the memory.

  He’s laughing so hard I think he might cry. “Did you really say ‘cowboy?’”

  I nod, unable to speak. I’m so mortified.

  He wiggles his fingers, gesturing for more.

  “Then your mom comes through the door and we both stop dead. She eyes me from head to toe, suspiciously of course.”

  “And all you had on is my shirt?”

  “Yes,” I squeak.

  “She found out you’re a natural blond, at least.” He chokes on his laughter.

  I pick up the pillow lying on the floor and whack him a few times.

  “Ow. Ow. OWWWW!” He throws his arms up in self-defense and grabs the pillow from me before clutching my wrists behind my back.

  His hazel eyes glitter with mirth. I am not amused.

  We’re kneeling on the floor and his warm body presses to mine, my chest making direct contact with his.

  What was I talking about? My mind goes blank, and my lungs constrict.

  He releases my hands and pulls his shirt off. He’s beautiful. I’d already seen him naked, or nearly so, a couple times, but I marvel all the same. The finely sculpted muscles of his chest, framed by sinewy arms, transition into a hard abdomen. The smattering of dark hair dusting his chest tapers to a fine point and disappears into the waist of his shorts.

  Treasure trail, indeed.

  He reaches down to undo his shorts, sliding them over his slim hips.

  If perfection is possible, I found it.

  ***

  Shay

  I bolt to the bedroom to grab a condom.

  I return and kneel in front of her again, pressing my palms against her creamy cheeks dotted with a pretty pink flush. The deluge we were caught in earlier did not wash away the scent of raspberries.

  I want to eat her up.

  Her forehead is warm under my lips, and her sigh tickles my ear as I move down to brush a kiss into the crook of her neck.

  My fingers weave into her silky hair. I need to taste her.

  I press my open mouth to hers, my tongue plunging into drink in her sweetness. Her groans mingle with my own.

  I touch her back, stroking and squeezing. Her whole body trembles against mine.

  I slide my hands between us, one thumb brushing over a pebbled nipple. I swallow her gasp, and a single thought crosses my mind.

  I would do anything, anything, to make this moment last forever.

  I tear my lips from hers, kissing her neck, burying my nose there and inhaling her fruitiness. Her delicate hands leave a trail of scorch marks across my arms and back.

  I suck on the sensitive skin of her neck then lick the red spot. She’s sweet and salty and irresistible.

  The shadowed crevice of her cleavage beckons and my tongue traces a path downward. I pull back and tug her shirt off before dropping a kiss on the top of each breast above the silky pink fabric of her bra. Her hands move to my head, gripping my hair and encouraging me.

  I capture a nipple through the thin material and suck until the bud hardens against my tongue.

  Her sharp gasp echoes through the small room.

  I continue teasing the peak, swirling my tongue around before repeating on the other side.

  Thea moans and tugs at my hair, pushing my head down.
<
br />   I lay her back on the worn area rug and kneel between her legs, kissing her soft belly before sliding down to lick one thigh, then the other, moving to the tender flesh inside each knee.

  Her hands tug at my hair, pulling my head up. I know what she wants.

  Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her breath coming in sweet little pants.

  I pause above the pale nest of curls between her thighs and grin. Her clean, slightly musky scent intoxicates me.

  She arches her hips to my face, and I grab on as I sink my tongue into her slick, hot cleft, lapping at her sweetness.

  She’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

  Her clitoris is engorged and hard in my mouth as I suck on the bundle of nerves, flicking my tongue back and forth. Her legs shake. It’s coming.

  She’s coming.

  I double-down and lave her clitoris as she rocks her pelvis against my mouth, and I come up on my knees as her shudders fade.

  She props up on her elbows and reaches one hand down.

  My breath hitches as her small, hot hand grasps my penis.

  She’s pushing me back, crawling on all fours as I inch backward to the couch. I pull myself up, the sofa cushion soft under my bare legs. She doesn’t follow, and instead slides a throw pillow onto the cold tile between my feet, kneels, and leans down.

  I raise my hand to touch her hair, billowing around her face, and am surprised to see I’m not shaking on the outside.

  Because my insides are whipping around like a Category five hurricane about to hit land.

  She licks the small bead of pre-come from the head of my penis, and my hips jerk at the contact.

  Then her lips encase me as her fingers dig deep into my thigh muscles. Encouraged by the loud groan erupting from my throat, her wet mouth slides up and down the shaft, pinpricks of hot pleasure blinding me.