We’ve talked a little about our past “relationships”. I knew Mabry wasn’t a virgin when I met her, although I wished she had been. The thought of another man’s hands on her was almost too much for me to bear. Some of the females around the office had warned her to stay away from me. A few of them knew my reputation from high school. The rest I had fucked at some point during my summer internships. When I graduated from law school and came to work here at the firm, my past followed me. I had changed by then and wasn’t the same asshole these women once knew, but none of them believed it. Anytime a new female joined the firm she was immediately informed to stay away from me. It never bothered me before because there hadn’t been anyone I cared about until now. I told Mabry most of the stories were true a long time ago, but I’m a different person now.
I haven’t opened up about Becca and how she was the catalyst that caused me to wake up, grow up, and change. I struggle back and forth about my decision to tell Mabry everything. I mean, it was in the past. I’m not that guy anymore. What’s important is that I’ve changed. I love Mabry and I’m committed to her in every sense of the word. It’s because of that commitment to her that I know I need to be honest and tell her everything. I’m sure she’s wondered what caused such a dramatic change from the way I used to live my life, I just have to wait until the right time presents itself and so far it hasn’t, or I haven’t let it. I’m scared Mabry will leave me if she finds out I was even remotely involved with a girl’s suicide since she saw the way it destroyed her own family.
Since Becca’s death, I’d gone out with a couple of girls. I even tried to seriously date this one girl, Stacia. She was nice, smart, and exotic looking. All her stats looked great on paper. There was just something missing between us. Admittedly, I have been pretty gun-shy about even going out on a date since Becca. I never saw her death coming and I sure as hell can’t live through another experience like that. But when Mabry walked into the conference room that first day at the firm all my apprehension and fear evaporated.
In the beginning, I thought of Becca every single day after her death, because I never wanted to forget the way in which she changed my life. Her death forced me to look at myself and how my actions affected others. Now I think about our brief encounter and how, because of it, I could possibly lose the most important thing in my life, the woman I love. I’m not sure if I’m overthinking it or not. I mean, we’re in love so maybe it isn’t the biggest deal, but just the thought that it might destroy us makes my voice catch in my throat, stopping the confession. I wonder if I will ever truly be able to leave the past behind.
I love any time with Mabry, but Sundays are my favorite. We don’t plan anything. We just spend time together. We started switching off staying over at each other’s place. Today we are at my place. It’s late morning and we are still in bed, working. Being new lawyers, you never really have an entire day off. I glance up at her and smile. She’s sitting with her legs crossed in front of her, reading over case studies. Her hair is piled up on top of her head, all messy. She’s wearing one of my blue Duke T-shirts, loosely knotted at the waist exposing my favorite pair of her black lace boy shorts. Her face is still flushed from our early morning horizontal workout. Dark-rimmed glasses frame her beautiful eyes and she’s concentrating, which means her tasty bottom lip is drawn into her mouth. I’m leaning against the headboard, my legs stretched out in front of me, crossed at the ankles, wearing a pair of faded jeans, drawing up a few contracts on my laptop. We’ve been in these same positions before, doing the same exact thing, and still I can’t get over how perfect it feels to be with her.
“What are you staring at, buddy?” she asks, giving me a flirtatious smile.
“The most beautiful creature on the planet.” I wink at her.
“Well, aren’t we full of cheese this morning,” she teases.
“That’s one of the reasons why you love me so much, Sweetness. I provide you with your recommended daily dose of calcium.”
“That reminds me, I’m hungry.” She removes her glasses and places them on top of the files in front of her. Leaning toward me, she brushes her soft lips over mine and kisses me lightly. “Do you want anything to eat?”
A wicked grin slowly crosses my face. “Oh, you mean food? Nah, I’m not hungry for food.” She narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head before climbing off of the bed. I watch as her sexy little ass sways its way out the door.
My life has never been as good as it is at this moment. When I look at Mabry I have a thousand different emotions run through me. I’m happy, content, excited, and completely at peace. I feel wanted and needed. I have a purpose now. Mabry has given me a life I never knew could exist. The raspy sultry voice of Duffy singing “Mercy” from the other room catches my attention.
As I reach the kitchen I see Mabry standing in front of the fridge, looking in. With one arm resting over the door, her hips move back and forth to the music. I cross my arms over my bare chest, lean against the doorframe, and enjoy the view. She grabs what looks to be a yogurt. Closing the fridge, she absentmindedly starts singing as she dances over to the drawer and pulls out a spoon. She still doesn’t notice me staring at her. I can’t help but think that her singing and dancing in the kitchen is a trait she inherited from her mom. She gets into her performance a little more, using the spoon as her microphone. My smile grows so big it makes my face hurt. Closing her eyes, Mabry hits a high note and spins around toward me. Her eyes shoot open and she startles seeing me there.
“Dammit! You scared me,” she yells.
“Please don’t stop. This is the best floor show I’ve ever seen.”
“Dance with me.”
“Oh no, Sweetness. This is all you.”
She places the yogurt on the counter and seductively saunters toward me. “I know you have to be a great dancer.”
“Yeah? How do you know?” I ask.
She unfolds my arms from my chest, tugging me to the center of the kitchen. “Because, I’ve seen and felt your hip action.”
She guides my arms around her waist and then wraps hers around my neck. Our hips connect and our foreheads rest on each other’s as our bodies slowly move together.
“See, it’s all in the hips,” she whispers against my lips.
I glide my hand up her torso all the way to one of her tits and my thumb automatically starts circling her already hard nipple. Our breathing becomes heavier. With my other hand, I push on the small of her back, pressing our hips closer together. I feel her fingers slide up the back of my head into my hair. I move my hand from her back down to cup her ass as I bend her back slightly, slipping my tongue into her partially open mouth. We straighten up and I back her toward the corner of the counter. Both our tongues stay firmly planted in the other’s mouths. I reposition both my hands and grab the hem of her T-shirt, breaking the kiss long enough to slip it up and over her head.
Starting at her neck, I nibble my way down until I’m on my knees in front of her, bringing me face-to-face with her tits. Mabry’s fingers stay tangled in my hair as she pushes my lips harder against her body. Sliding my tongue out, I run it roughly across her nipple before taking it into my mouth and sucking hard. She loves it when I do this. My lips begin traveling down her stomach and circle her pierced navel, as my fingers hook around the top of her panties. The panties slowly slide down her legs, my mouth following in their path with slow open-mouth kisses, until I reach between her thighs. I linger there for several seconds flicking her clit with my tongue. A loud gasp escapes Mabry and I feel her knees buckle against my chest. I lean her towards the counter for support, coaxing her to lift her legs, so that I can remove her panties, tossing them to the side. I run both hands up along the back of her legs and to her ass, burying my face deeper between her thighs. Her hips begin to rock back and forth as she attempts to ride my tongue.
I slide my tongue out and kiss the inside of her upper thigh. “Fuck, I never get tired of tasting you,” I say against her skin. A loud moan rumbles
from her chest as her fingers dig into my hair deeper.
I stand, lifting her up onto the counter, position her hips at the edge while pressing her back to the wall.
“You consume me, baby,” she says breathlessly.
My lips glide up her chest, her neck, across her jaw until they reach her lips. “I adore you, Mabry,” I tell her just as breathless.
Unbuttoning my jeans, she pushes them down using her legs. She wraps herself around my hips and pulls me in as close as possible. Burying my face in her neck, I place my hands on either side of her hips, holding her still as I thrust into her. My breathing comes out in short quick spurts, my grip intensifies, and the air shifts between us. Beads of sweat pop up on our skin as my movements speed up. Mabry braces herself against my shoulders. I lift my head and look into her beautiful azure blue eyes and for the first time all I see in them is love. The sadness that had been a permanent fixture is gone. I make a vow right then to myself that I would spend the rest of my life making sure the sadness doesn’t return. She’s taken over every part of me, my heart, my mind, my soul, and my body. It’s as if our souls have fused together and I know she’s the one I’ve been waiting for my entire life. My dick begins throbbing intensely as Mabry squeezes perfectly around it. Our bodies are so in sync with one another’s, it’s overwhelming. We continue to lock eyes as our bodies shake uncontrollably. She feels it just as intensely as I do. Our connection is mind-blowing, causing tears to trickle down both our faces.
Trying to catch my breath, I rest my forehead against hers and ask, “Do you think it’s possible to love someone before you’ve met them? Because I think I’ve loved you my entire life.”
“I know it is because I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”
“Soooo, things with you and Hottie McGee are getting pretty serious?” Sylvie asks.
“Hottie McGee?”
“Don’t toy with me, woman. You know who I’m talking about.”
Between work and Brad I’ve missed the monthly book club brunches a couple of times and haven’t talked to Sylvie in a while. She insisted we meet tonight for drinks, dinner, and a little girl talk.
“Yeah, things are really good,” I say with some hesitation in my voice.
Sylvie looks at me trying to read my expression. “You don’t sound very convincing. What’s bugging you? Spill.”
“You’re going to think I’m nuts.” The word comes out of my mouth before my brain has a chance to think. Sylvie doesn’t know I self-harm, but she knows how terrified I am to become like my mom and that it’s one of the main reasons why I’ve never let anyone into my life. She also knows that certain words like “nuts, crazy, and insane” hit a nerve with me. “You remember when we were kids and we’d dream about what it would be like to have a boyfriend?”
“Yeah, mine was going to be Justin Timberlake,” she says wistfully.
“The boy would be hot, sweet, would do anything for us, and tell us how incredible and beautiful we were. But then when we got older and actually started dating we found out they’re not like that. They’re loud, obnoxious, self-centered, smelly creatures who think the ability to burp and fart at the same time is a talent to be admired.”
“To be fair, doing those two things simultaneously does take a bit of bodily control and an innate sense of timing,” she says with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Brad is the dream.”
A huge smile forms on her face as she reaches her hand across the table, placing it on top of mine. “That’s wonderful, Mabry. I’m beyond thrilled. You deserve the dream.” I cast my eyes down. “You believe that, right? You deserve to be happy and have someone special in your life.”
Looking up at her, I feel tears collecting behind my eyes. “When he looks at me everything horrible in my life disappears. For the first time I can see a future and I’m not alone in it.” She squeezes my hand and I see her eyes filling as well. “But then something triggers the realization that those horrible things aren’t gone. I’ll never be free of them.”
Sylvie squeezes my hand harder, looks me directly in the eyes, her expression stern. “You listen to me. You are not your mother, Mabry. You have got to stop letting her death dictate your life.”
“Depression runs in families, Sylvie, and I’ve had episodes,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“You had a mother who was sick and for whatever reason that day she lost sight of what was important. Your father buried his head in the sand and allowed her to slip away. The two people in your life who were supposed to love, protect, and cherish you let you down. I’d have episodes too if that shit happened to me. I know depression can be inherited, but it’s not guaranteed, sweetie. You need to talk with a professional and figure out exactly what you’re afraid of, living or dying. If you run from one then you’re headed straight towards the other. Since your mom died I think you’ve been at a standstill, not knowing which direction to go in.”
I know logically Sylvie’s right, but when fear possesses you most of your life, logic falls by the wayside. I’ve never been to counseling to help deal with my mom’s death or my father abandoning me emotionally. I dealt with my problems by self-harming, sleeping with nameless guys, and medicating myself with either alcohol or drugs. I guess that really can’t be considered as “dealing” with my problems. I’ve never faced any of my issues. I never had a reason or desire to, until now.
My plan after dinner was to head home and put in a couple of hours of work, but somehow I find myself sitting in my car outside of Brad’s place. I’m watching him through his window. The boy needs to invest in either blinds or drapes. He’s sitting on the sofa working on his laptop, as usual. He has on the blue Duke T-shirt that I love to wear because it smells like him. I was the last to wear it. I wonder if he’s got it on because it now smells like me. The sleeves hit right in the middle of his upper arm muscle. Those arms are so sexy especially when they strain against the material when he folds them over his chest or around my body. His baseball cap is in its familiar backward position on top of his head with a little of his chunky dirty-blond hair sticking out at the opening above the adjustable strap. His ever present stubble runs across his defined jawline that I love running my teeth up and down. Just a half hour ago, I was falling apart, allowing my fears to take control. Now, seeing Brad for a few minutes somehow melts all of my doubts away, and I can see my future with him. I pick up my phone and send a quick text.
Me: Hey sexy beast.
I watch as a big bright smile appears on his face and reaches all the way to his eyes.
Brad: SWEETNESS!!! I miss u.
Me: I miss u 2. U look mighty sexy when u work.
Brad: Where r u?
Me: In ur driveway.
Brad: What’cha doin’ out there?
Me: Swoonin’ & droolin’ over u.
He looks toward the window and waves. Holding up his index finger, he indicates for me to wait a second. He places his laptop on the coffee table. My phone chirps with a text.
Brad: Turn on 95 SX.
I find the radio station on my phone and click the live stream. “Wild Ones” by Flo Rida fills the car. I look up and see Brad through the window, doing his best Channing Tatum impression from Magic Mike. As he dances, his hips rock smoothly back and forth at first. He grabs the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it up and over his head. Somehow he manages to keep his baseball cap in place. Arms raised high in the air, the hip-gyrating speeds up as he approaches the window. Laughter bursts from me involuntarily.
I love him so much.
A heel groove followed by a deep grind to the floor are next. He throws a little “Sprinkler” move in before disappearing from sight. Just when I think the show’s over he crosses in front of the window performing the classic “Moon Walk”, ending with grabbing his baseball cap and tossing it to the side.
I get out of my car, run up to his front door, and knock. He fills me with so much joy and peace that I feel as if I’m going to explode with emot
ion. The door swings open. My eyes immediately zero in on his gorgeous upper body and I sigh deeply.
“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.
“Hey,” I say, holding up a dollar bill.
Looking at it, he narrows his eyes and says, “A dollar? Baby, I left my heart out on that dance floor.”
“A dollar plus this…” I lean in, pressing my lips to his. I glide the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip before sliding it in. Brad’s chest vibrates with a deep growl. I pull back and we stare at each other.
His hand comes up, cupping the side of my face. “Yum, appletini,” he says, grinning. “You had a good time with Sylvie?” His thumb runs over my cheek.
“Yeah, I did.” I pause briefly, then ask, “Do you ever get scared?”
“Of what?”
“This thing between us? It’s intense. It feels like more than love. I just don’t know what the word is or even if there’s a word for it.” I turn my head and look away.
He touches my chin with the tip of his index finger, guiding my gaze back to him. “No, I’ve never been scared of it. It’s always felt like the most natural thing in the world.”
“What if something happens?” I whisper.
“Mabry, there’s nothing in this universe that could happen to keep me from you. I don’t know how not to love you.”
I fling my arms around his neck and hold on tightly. Brad’s strong arms encircle my waist.
“I love you so completely,” I whisper into his ear.
My feet lift off the ground slightly as he carries me in to his place, closing the door behind us. I want to be the best person I can be for Brad. Sylvie is right. It’s time I start dealing with my problems. I’ve been standing still with no clear direction toward life or death. I don’t want to be like my mother or father. I want a life and I want it with Brad.
Past Imperfect Page 12
