Loved You Always

by Natalina Reis

  “Stop, Emily Rose! Please….” He sounded so desperate that I did stop for a moment. “If we go through with this right now, you won’t be able to look me in the eye tomorrow. This moment will grow into a wall between us.” Was he right? Would this destroy whatever hope there was for us? “I want us to get close, not further apart.”

  “I want this, Jem,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I did want this. I had wanted it since we were in college, but then Jem had left, and Dave had entered my life. Dave! My anger came back full force. “I want to make love to you, Jem. I thought you wanted it, too.”

  “God, Em. Of course I do,” he said, his voice a bit lower. “But this is not about me and you. You’re angry. This is about you and Dave. I don’t want Dave with us in bed. When we make love, I want to be the only one in your thoughts. I want you to do it because you want me, not because you want to hurt Dave.”

  The tears that had been absent for the past twenty-four hours made a sudden appearance, running down my cheeks like rivers of heartache. He was right, of course. This wasn’t fair on him or even me. Tomorrow I would regret it all bitterly.

  “It hurts, Jem,” I said with a sob. “It hurts so much.”

  Jem sat up and held me against him. “I know, I know,” he whispered in my ear. Then he pulled me down until we were lying side by side, my head buried in the crook of his neck. “I’m here for you, Emily Rose. I won’t ever go away again. I promise.”

  I cried for a while. Jem seemed to have a knack for releasing the waterworks in me. Little by little, I calmed down. The heat of his body against mine soothed my pain. His hand, caressing my head and face, comforted my soul.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I said, anger gone from my voice.

  He laughed softly. “You have good reason to be.” He kissed the top of my head. “And once I’m a little more healed, I’m going to kick Dave’s ass, and then I’m going to thank him.”

  I raised my head a little to look at him. “Thank him?”

  A little, wicked smile curved the corner of his lips. “For being stupid enough to clear the way for me.”

  “I hate when you’re adorable,” I said, even though I loved it. It made me love him that much more. He kissed me then. Not the down-your-throat kiss I had performed on him earlier, but a gentle, warm-your-toes lip suckling that made me sparkle to the core and left me panting for more.

  “Just to remind you what you could be getting frequently if you ever stop being mad at me and allow me to love you full-time,” he said with infuriating logic. “Good night, Emily Rose. I need my beauty sleep.”

  I settled back on his shoulder but couldn’t go to sleep. My body was on fire. I realized with a jolt that I hadn’t thought of Dave or how angry I was at everybody in almost an hour. It seemed like Jem was more than a friend—he was also a miracle worker.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  __________

  Forgiveness and New Beginnings

  “You’re going to be mad.” Those words never preceded anything good. I squinted at him, bracing myself for what was coming next. “I called Celia. She’s coming over to talk to you.”

  My teeth were clenched so tightly together, my jaw started to hurt. “I don’t want to talk to her.”

  Liar! I did want to talk to her. I missed my sister something awful. It had been almost a week since the whole Dave fiasco and, even though I was still mad at her, I was ready to forgive and forget.

  “Come on, Em.” Jem was walking easier now. He still favored one side, but he could at least walk around without major pain. His breathing was normal and the visiting nurse had just removed all his bandages that morning. “She’s your sister.”

  “She knew about Dave and she didn’t tell me!” My heart still dropped every time I thought about it. I wasn’t sure which betrayal hurt the most: Dave’s or my sister’s.

  Jem took a deep breath. He looked delicious—sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a plain black T-shirt that seemed tattooed to his chest muscles. “She was trying to protect you.” He combed his curls with the tips of his fingers. “Like you, she thought that Dave would be decent enough to tell you himself. But he didn’t, and she left it until it was too late. You have to see that she did it with good intentions.”

  “You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, mister,” I said, affecting what I hoped was an angry tone of voice. “You’re very annoying.”

  He grabbed me and pulled me to him. His face came down. “You love when I butt in,” he said, his lips sending shivers down my spine as they touched the sensitive skin of my ear. His hands tightened around me and I felt, against my backside, the telltale sign we were playing with fire. “Hell, now you got me all hot and bothered.”

  Laughing nervously, I disentangled myself from his arms and sat on the couch, my legs too weak to carry me. “So, when is she getting here?”

  As if on cue, the doorbell rang. I raised an eyebrow in question. Jem laughed. “You better open the door,” he said. He looked down at his pants. “I’m in no shape to be seen. I’ll be in my room, cooling off.”

  My cheeks burned as he walked into his room, obviously more than a little aroused. I stood on shaking legs and opened the door to my sister.

  Celia looked positively crestfallen and young. I was transported to our childhood, when she would look at me with those round blue eyes and make me do whatever it was she wanted me to do. I could never resist those puppy eyes. Without hesitation, I drew her into a hug.

  “I’m sorry, Em,” she said, her voice shaking. “I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Shush, it’s okay,” I said, rocking her side to side. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I overreacted. I was just shocked. It was all so unexpected.”

  We sat together on the couch, holding hands and talking in whispers like we used to do when we were little girls. It was better than therapy. My heart felt lighter, my anger dissipated—mostly—and I felt hope again.

  The thing with Dave was hard, very hard, but I wasn’t really in love with him. I loved him, but not in a romantic way. Not in a together-forever way. That love was, and had always been, reserved for my best friend, Jem. I was in love with the idea of Dave, the good, stable guy that could turn me into goo with a kiss. The man who would always be there, a solid figure in an ever-changing life. As it turned out, Dave was just as flawed as everybody else. The man I thought would always be loyal and present had been making out with another woman while I was a prisoner. Yes, I had also kind of made out with Jem, but I had stopped myself. I had made the very conscious decision to let go of the love of my life and choose Dave, the one I could count on—or so I thought, anyway.

  “Where is Jem?” my sister suddenly asked, looking around the room as if he could be hiding behind a piece of furniture.

  “He’s in the bedroom.” I blushed furiously. “He was having some… anxiety issues.” I cleared my throat. “Jem, Celia’s here. Can you come out?”

  The door opened and Jem came out, a big smile on his face. Celia jumped off the couch and ran to throw herself in his arms.

  “Ouch, girly,” he whimpered. “Watch out for the bruises.” But his laugh belied his words. He hugged her back with all his might.

  “So good to see you up and about,” Celia said on her tiptoes, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. “What the hell were you doing in that room for so long?”

  “I had to take a very cold shower,” he said, throwing me a sly look and making me blush all over again.

  My sister’s eyes ping-ponged between Jem and me. “Are you guys getting it on finally?”

  Oh God! My cheeks burned so hot, I thought I would burst into flames.

  Jem chuckled. “Come on, Celia, you’re making your sister blush,” he said. “No, unfortunately we are not, as you said, getting it on. More like starting at a simmer.”

  I went to make coffee and hide in the kitchen while my two uncouth sidekicks chatted away in the living room. When I came back with a mug in each hand, they were laughing u
ncontrollably.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, handing one of the mugs to Jem.

  “Celia was telling me about the fiasco with the repellent you got from Marcy.” Jem took the mug to his lips. For the hundredth time that day, my cheeks were set aflame.

  “Really, Celia? You told him about that?” I was mortified.

  Jem had that look, the one he always got when he knew he had something on me, something to hold over me. “And after all that, it didn’t even work….” A little smirk appeared on his lips as he turned to my sister. “Tell me again, Celia; why didn’t it work?”

  Saint Helpful opened her round eyes and her mouth without a thought. “Because it would only work on someone she didn’t love—”

  “Okay, that’s more than enough,” I interrupted, holding my hand in front of her. “And you.” I pointed at Jem. “Stop looking so smug. Marcy’s magic doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.”

  “It does, too!” Shit, Celia! Just shut up for once. My outraged little sister looked at me with accusing eyes. “Her stuff does work.”

  There was no winning with these people. I threw my arms up in the air and went back to the kitchen to get my own mug of coffee. I loved them, but there were times I wanted to strangle them.

  Celia stayed for a few hours, until she had to go to work at the hospital. She gave Jem another bear hug, and I saw her whisper something in his ear. Then she hugged me. Twice. “I love you, sis,” she said.

  “I love you, too, crazy.” She left while I waved good-bye from the door. For a moment I wondered where the undercover cops were, but then gave up. It didn’t matter who or where they were as long as they did their job. I closed the door and looked at Jem, stretched on the couch and ready to watch TV.

  “What did she tell you?” I asked, my arms crossed in front of my chest.

  He smiled. “None of your business,” he replied. “It’s between your sister and me.”

  Huffing a little, I walked to my room. “I’m going to change and do some yoga. You guys stressed me out.”

  When I came back after changing into yoga pants and a T-shirt, Jem was waiting. “Ready?” Ready for what? “We’re doing yoga, right?”

  Apparently we were doing yoga together. I turned on the music, unrolled my mat, and sat on it. “Do as you please,” I said, still a bit miffed at his refusal to tell me what my sister had told him.

  From the corner of my eye I watched him as he meditated to the sound of the ocean waves and the barking of the seagulls. My belly tightened as, in spite of all the abuse his body had endured, he flowed from one pose to another with the power of a warrior and the grace of a dancer. I closed my eyes to bar images of him from my mind, but they kept coming. I was so screwed.

  After savasana, I felt much more relaxed. As I was rolling my mat, I felt Jem’s body heat next to mine. I turned around to face him and he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were touching. A wave of heat ran through me, from my toes to the top of my head, dissolving everything in between.

  “In spite of everything, Emily Rose,” he said, his warm voice caressing me, “I’m so glad this brought us close together again.”

  Oh God, give me strength.

  He leaned forward a little and I thought he was going to kiss me, but his lips overshot mine and came to rest against my ear. “I love you, Emily Rose.” Shivers ran through me as our skin made contact. “Always have and always will.”

  Dropping his hands, Jem turned around and went into his room, leaving me standing in the living room, shaking with yearning.

  Damn you!

  ***

  I spent the first couple hours of my sleep time tossing and turning until the sheets and blankets on my bed were rolled up like a sushi roll. I kicked them off the bed and sprang up into a sitting position. Maybe a little yoga breathing will help. In through the nose, out through the mouth, belly breathing, three-stage breathing, focused breathing…. Damn it! Just couldn’t settle down. My mind was going a million miles per hour, and my senses were so alive my whole body was tingling with electric energy.

  I got out of bed and tiptoed my way out of the room and into the kitchen. To my surprise, Jem was there, too. He didn’t hear me come in at first, so I had a moment to admire the view. Still wearing the same joggers as before, hanging low on his hips, he now wore no shirt. His lean and yet muscular chest, stained still with bruises now starting to fade into a greenish shade, was bare in all its magnificence. I gulped.

  I should just go back to bed.

  Just as I was about to turn around and make a hasty retreat, Jem lifted his eyes and saw me. “Em. What are you doing up?”

  With what I hoped was a nonchalant attitude, I took a step or two into my small kitchen. “I couldn’t sleep.” My voice shook. “You?”

  He leaned against the counter and dragged a hand over his eyes. “Same here. Couldn’t sleep. Warming up some milk. Want some? We can spike it with….” He looked around, searching for some alcoholic drink.

  “Sorry,” I said, giggling a little. “The only alcohol I have is a bottle of red and some antiseptic.”

  Pretending to be disappointed, Jem lifted his hands up in the air. “Oy vey!”

  The movement of his arms had made the muscles tighten across his chest and his pants slide down his hips a couple more inches. I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open with a tiny gasp. He threw me a rakish smile, and I made a childish face at him. Why did he bring out that side of me?

  “Do you like what you see?”

  Asshole!

  “Don’t be so full of yourself,” I managed to say. “I was shocked at how dark your bruises still are.” Nice save.

  He chuckled, turning back to the stove. He poured us some warm milk and then handed me one of the mugs. I smiled. His mom had always given us hot milk when I slept over at his house as a child. “You’ll sleep better,” she would say. Funny how little things like that seemed to stick with us for the rest of our lives.

  Making no effort to go sit somewhere, we stood there drinking our milk in silence, watching each other from beneath half-closed eyelids. Could he hear my heart? I would be surprised if he couldn’t, because it was beating furiously in my chest. Something within me had liquefied and I didn’t want to move for fear of turning into a puddle.

  When he first took a step toward me, I almost jumped out of my skin. My pulse accelerated, and my fertile imagination came up with a million scenarios of what might be about to happen.

  Putting down his mug, Jem took a few more steps until he was standing right in front of me, his full six-foot-two stature towering over my tiny frame. He took the mug from my hands, set it down on the counter, and leaned in until my body was wedged between the wall and his.

  My heart was working its way up my throat when he bent down so his face was almost level with mine. Swoony was the only word I could come up with to describe what I felt when his intense blue eyes locked with mine. Oh crap! There was no way out of this now.

  His lips descended on the side of my neck and worked their fluttery magic up and down my overly sensitive skin. With maddening slowness, he suckled on my earlobe until a moan of pleasure escaped my lips.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath setting my skin on fire.

  I willed my lips to say yes, but all my senses betrayed me. I lifted my hands and crossed them behind his neck, drawing him closer. “Damn you, Jem,” I said instead.

  Our lips, hungry for each other’s, met and melded. As his tongue danced its way to meet mine, his arms tightened around my waist, sliding under my T-shirt and flattening themselves on my back. Of its own accord, my body rubbed against his, craving more contact, more heat.

  “Are you sure?” he asked against my mouth, his voice husky with desire.

  Deprived of the power of speech, I took hold of his waistband and began pulling his pants down. It was his turn to moan.

  His hands went to the lower edges of my T-shirt
and he pulled it over my head, leaving me bare. There was such hunger in his eyes as they roamed over my breasts, the fire in my core flared into a full blast. Bending down, he covered my breast with his mouth. My concept of ecstasy was rewritten at that very moment. Years of frustrated yearning flooded my thoughts and my body, demanding release.

  I arched against his mouth, wanting to be closer still. He lingered there, his warm tongue teasing me to the point of no return. My fingers were entwined in his curls, pressing his head against me, demanding in a way I had never been before.

  When Jem came up for air, I started pulling on his joggers, desperately trying to feel all of him. My hands fumbled with the waistband. Jem let go of me for a second, long enough to pull down the offending pants and free me of mine right after.

  Time stopped as we stood facing each other, naked and winded. I was in awe of the body that housed my best friend. Even covered in bruises and half-healed scars, he was a work of art. A masterpiece I wanted for myself alone. His eyes traveled and caressed the length of me, and I—normally so self-conscious of my flaws—melted beneath his scrutiny. His body trembled under my gaze, and I knew he liked what he saw.

  In a smooth move, Jem picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom as if I weighed nothing. It was a good thing he did, for I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to walk on my wobbly legs. I had waited so long for this moment that I was still not sure I wasn’t dreaming. He gently laid me down on the bed and then slid over me, wringing a low groan of pleasure from me.

  “Say you love me.” Jem’s voice surprised me out of my trance. His face was hovering over mine, his whole body stretched above me, a cocoon of heat and hardness. I looked up into the deep ocean of his eyes, drunk with desire, intoxicated by my feelings for him—physical and otherwise. “Tell me you love me. Please.”

  In a moment of clarity I wondered if it were possible that he didn’t know. I had always assumed he knew I was in love with him and had been for most of our lives. But at that moment he seemed almost desperate to hear me say it, as if he needed validation.