If This Is Our Last Night

by Alexandra Page

  I cringe, wishing I could crawl into the wood behind me, wishing I could hide. He backs away, turning around to pace again.

  “I was so fucking mad at you! All day long I would hate you, but every night I would chase you through my dreams, begging you to stay with me, to love me again. You weren’t even there, but you still managed to torture me.” Stopping at the foot of the bed, he stares at me, his fury dissipating like smoke from a match. “Losing you was worse than losing Mom and Dad. It nearly destroyed me,” he whispers, sinking down onto the bed, his beautiful blue eyes bright with tears.

  The pain in my heart spreads like a forest fire after a drought. I slide to the floor a sobbing mess. I watch through swollen, watery eyes as he sits there, bent over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his fingers gripping his hair, shoulders shaking. Seeing me again is tearing him apart. It’s killing him. It’s killing us both. I curl up into a ball and cry my heart out, the reality of my mistake torturing me like nothing else ever has.

  I don’t know how long we cry before he comes over and scoops me up off the floor. He takes us over to the bed and sits down with me on his lap. Producing a damp washcloth, seemingly out of thin air, he starts softly cleaning my face. “Please, Jenna. Stop crying. I’m sorry.” His voice is thick and low, his words barely taking shape. “I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or scared you like that.”

  I shake my head and scramble off his lap, my skin crawling with shame from his gentle care. Escaping to the balcony door I look out at the city lights. I can’t look at him. “I deserved it. I deserve all that and more.”

  “No, you…”

  “I do. What I did to you, to us…I hurt you,” I whisper, choking on my words. “I never meant to. I swear I didn’t. That’s the last thing I wanted. I think I’ve regretted it every hour of every day for the last six years. You’ll never know how sorry I am. You might be happy to hear this though. All those things you said, I lived with them too. You’re always there just at the edge of my grasp. Hiding in my things, pretending to be some other tall guy with blonde hair. In a whiff of cologne, or in someone else’s laugh. You’re every good memory I have, but some of my most painful ones too.”

  He doesn’t respond and I let the silence unnerve me.

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  Yeah, that was a stupid question.

  “You didn’t give me any reason to stay, Jenna! I tried a dozen fucking times to get you to talk to me and you were so fucking stubborn you wouldn’t even answer the door or the phone!”

  “I was scared!” I turn around and scream, mad at myself more than him.

  He scowls at me, throwing his hands up. “Of what? Almost nine years! We had been together almost nine years. I loved you with every ounce of my soul for every single one of them too. You were never scared before.”

  I turn back around and stare out the glass, but my eyes only see his hazy, tortured reflection. I slam them shut. I can’t look at him and admit this. “I was scared you would…”

  “I would what? Tell me!”

  “I made shit up in my head, okay? I got myself all twisted up inside and mad enough at you that I could walk away before you walked away because you found someone better.”

  “Jen, you can’t be serious. What the fuck?”

  “I wanted to go for you, I swear I did, but I couldn’t!” I let my tears flow as I lower my head and wrap my arms around myself. As if any of that will protect me from his pain and anger—or my guilt. I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself before I can go on. “I had Gran to think about, and Michael, and my job…”

  “Gran? Is she…”

  I shake my head. “She’s gone. Last year.”

  I don’t turn around when I hear him take a few labored breaths. He loved her. She thought he was the most precious boy there ever was. We broke her heart.

  “I’m sorry. I should have been here. If I had known…” His voice cracks.

  “Don’t!” I cry, shaking my head, “Just don’t, please.”

  “Finish your story,” he says with an exhausted sigh.

  I glance up at his reflection. His head is in his hands again. This time I force myself to focus on him. “I tried to make it after you left. I thought I was strong enough, but Liz made me go to therapy after four months of watching me fall apart. I went for over two years before I worked everything out. Somewhere deep down I had known it was too hard of a choice for you to make and you deserved to chase your dreams.” I turn around and face him, tears streaming down my cheeks. “You deserved better than me. I left, so you could.”

  To say he’s shell-shocked would be an understatement. But slowly the confusion drains from his features and his brows gather over narrowed eyes as he shakes his head at me, his lips pressed tightly together. Then he opens his mouth, taking in a sharp breath, his eyes now cold and hard. He jumps to his feet, one finger pointing furiously at me. “You had no fucking right to force my hand like that Jenna! I would’ve stayed. I would have chosen you a hundred times! I would have married you. Had babies with you. Kept loving you like I always had!” His storm builds as he stalks closer to me—the executioner to my criminal. He stops a breath away, towering over me, his face angrier than I’ve ever seen it. His eyes burning blue, his jaw bulging and clenched so tight his teeth are probably in danger of cracking. I stand still, determined to take whatever venom he spits at me. “If I’d had any thread of hope that you still loved me I would have stayed! I fucking loved you beyond reason. And goddammit it pisses me the fuck off, but I still do!” He grabs me hard and crashes his lips to mine in a punishing kiss.

  I fight him for only a few seconds, shocked by the sheer force of him. He was a man when he left, but he’d loved me with the gentleness of his younger self—always sweet, careful, and giving. This man holding me now is powerful, only taking and demanding. His huge hands grasp my head, fingers buried in my hair, tugging and pulling me into him. It’s almost as if I can feel every spark of anger and frustration, all his pain, flowing out of his hands and mouth and seeping into my skin. I welcome it, pulling him closer, climbing higher up his powerful body.

  “I still love you too,” I whisper, the second he lets me breathe. “I never stopped,” I pant against his lips.

  He freezes and I slide out of his limp arms, watching as the anger leaks from his beautiful face like water from a broken dam. As his eyes wildly search mine for the truth, I still see his pain and I have a sudden, desperate need to ease it in any way I can.

  I have no right to ask, and I know it’s incredibly selfish, but I can’t stop the words from escaping my throat. “I won’t ask you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it, but let me love you. Let me ease your pain for a little while. Just for tonight. I know there isn’t a tomorrow for us, but we can say goodbye the right way this time. Let me show you I never stopped loving you. If this is the last time I ever see you, I need to leave you with a happy memory. I need one too, because once you’re gone I’m never going to love again.”

  My head is hanging in shame by the time I finish and I’m forcing myself not to bolt from the room. His hands grasp my face and lift it. Knowing he’s about to refuse me, I squeeze my eyes shut with a whimper. The air thickens between us, our breathing erratic.

  “Say it again.”

  My eyes pop open and there he is—my beautiful, beautiful love. Eyes of the coolest seas stare into mine, brilliant and unrestrained, begging me to love him.

  “Please.”

  I swallow deeply, pushing up onto my toes and brush my lips against his. “I love you.”

  This time his lips are gentle when they touch mine, as soft and hesitant as the first kiss we shared all those years ago. But it only takes a few seconds before they’re tasting me in a painfully familiar way.

  “Jenna.”

  I’ve never heard my name hold so much or sound so holy. I force back tears and pretend I never broke our hearts as I
kiss him with all the love I’ve stored up in his absence.

  He wraps one long arm around my waist and picks me up, bringing us face to face, before he moves us back towards the bed. Easing me slowly down his body, letting me feel how hard he is for me, he sits down, pulling me between his spread thighs.

  “I need to see you. All of you,” he whispers, reaching up and lightly dragging one of his fingers from the hollow of my throat all the way past my sternum, leaving chill bumps in its wake.

  I slowly shrug one shoulder, letting the thin strap slip off, then move to do the other, but he stops me.

  “Can I? Please?”

  I nod, my breath catching as he slowly rids me of the top half of my dress. Leaving it hanging down around my waist, he stares at me, a mixture of both awe and recognition on his face. “You’re so beautiful. My eyes missed the sight of you,” he whispers, his fingers ghosting up my arms, across my collarbone, and down over my breasts. My nipples strain against his touch, but he doesn’t linger there. Instead he spreads them around my rib cage and pulls me even closer, close enough to place a kiss over my pounding heart just before laying his head against it. Our arms find their way around each other and we stay locked together for some time, soaking in whatever peace we can pull from one another. There’s too much to say, so we don’t say anything at all.

  Letting his hands speak for him, he slides them to my waist and under my dress, pushing it slowly down past my hips, letting it fall to the floor. My panties slip to my ankles, so I step out of them while I run my fingers through his silky hair and he reacquaints his hands and lips with every part of me that he can reach. I can’t help but wonder if my body feels as familiar to him as his touch does to me.

  I gently pull away, running my hands over his chest and under his tux, pushing it up and over his shoulders. “I want to see you too.”

  He shrugs his jacket all the way off, haphazardly throwing it onto the dresser behind me, then leans over, placing kisses across my stomach. Leaving me wanting, he bends the rest of the way down and begins to untie his left shoe. I kneel and start on the right one. Once we slip them and his socks off he holds his hand out to me and we slowly stand up. Silently, I reach up to work on the tiny buttons of his shirt while he loosens his bow tie. As soon as I undo the last one he pulls his shirttails loose from his pants and the starched cotton joins the jacket—both hopefully banished to the dresser until daybreak.

  If he was breathtaking in his tux, he’s heart-stopping now. A golden god would be an appropriate description. I nearly weep at the sight of him and I can’t keep my hands from shaking as they run over the expanse of his magnificent chest. His shoulders, arms, and abs are equally impressive, all of them calling to be worshiped too. I eagerly heed them. While I take in every sculpted inch, I realize time has matured him into a flawless male specimen. He was perfect to me before, but now he’s more than that. There isn’t the smallest shadow of the lanky teenage boy he used to be or even the young man I walked away from. They still hide in his eyes though, I can see them lurking behind the burning blue. He’s staring at me so intensely it’s a miracle I don’t go up in flames in front of him.

  He unbuttons his pants and they drop from his slim hips, falling to the floor with a whispery thump. The ache in my center begins to spread throughout my body, my want for him expanding when I see the evidence of his for me. Everything I know of sex and love I learned from his young body touching and moving with mine. I want to remember it all again with this imposing man in front of me. Right here. Right now.

  As if he read my mind, he lifts me up, his hands and arms wrapping tightly around me, holding me even closer. I mold myself around him, hoping he feels the same need in me. Then I’m underneath him, his weight carefully pressing me into the bed.

  Our eyes lock, so much being said, so silently. His soften, showing me a glimpse of the boy he used to be. I attempt to ignore the cracking of my heart as it mourns all the lost time, but a wave of memories flood through my soul with sharp longing that demands to be felt. I know this man and his body, but there’s so many hours, days, and years I carelessly squandered and will never have the privilege to discover. So many moments lost. The heaviness this awareness brings threatens to drown me in sorrow.

  “Don’t go there,” he begs, his voice raspy, eyes urgent. “Stay with me.” His hands grasp me while his body presses me further into the bed, as if he believes I’m physically leaving him and he’s trying to hold onto me.

  I take several deep, shuddering breaths as I pull myself together for him, desperate to spare him from any more pain. I reach up and hold his sweet face, my thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. “There’s nowhere else I want to be,” I promise, bringing his lips to mine.

  We don’t waste a moment, our tongues hastily gliding over each other, knowing exactly how to move. It’s as if the last six years didn’t happen. Our hands travel softly over sensitive skin, touching places that thought they had long been forgotten, making them shiver with the joy of being remembered.

  I whimper when he breaks away to trail kisses down my neck and towards my aching breasts. He circles his tongue around one painfully tight nipple before gently sucking it into his hot mouth, his fingers teasing and pinching the other one. I squirm and moan under his slow, careful attentions, throbbing for the stiff, heavy weight pressed against my thigh.

  It’s been so long. Too long.

  My body becomes desperate for him and I’m soon begging. “Please, Brad. I need you.”

  “Not yet,” he whispers, his lips now against my right hip bone, moving across to the left so maddeningly slow and tender I want to scream. “Open for me. I need to taste you again.”

  A strangled whine surges from my chest, but I manage to spread my legs for him, despite how badly they’re shaking.

  I’m not surprised when one of his arms goes across my hips and holds me down. Clearly, he hasn’t forgotten how hard it is for me to stay still. Sure enough, they buck against his hold when his nose slides up my damp, quivering thigh to my heated center.

  He lets out a deep groan, dropping his forehead to rest on my pubic bone. “Fuck.”

  Hearing the need in his voice and feeling his warm, heavy breath flowing over my sensitive skin, makes my hips rise and beg for more.

  I don’t know which of us moans louder when his scorching tongue finally slides up through my soaked lips. He begins to torture me in earnest, seeing how quickly he can pull me up and over the edge—spreading my lips with his fingers and sucking my clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. My body hasn’t forgotten his masterful skills, nor has he erased from his mind the right combination to unlock my pleasure.

  Mr. H has absolutely nothing on him.

  Only moments later, I let out a high-pitched wail as my orgasm comes rushing through me. He doesn’t give me a second to recover, crawling over my shuddering body and burying himself deep inside me.

  “Oh God, Brad!”

  “Fuck, you’re still so damn tight,” he whispers, his voice strained as he slowly rolls his hips back, then forward again. “So fucking perfect.”

  It does feel amazing, but if I wasn’t so insanely aroused and still coming down from my orgasm, I would be in some serious pain. None of my toys compare to his thick length. My moans have a sharp edge to them as I adjust to his size again, but thankfully it doesn’t take me long and he doesn’t seem to notice. His hips continue their slow, deep rhythm as he groans with each stroke. My mind is reveling in the fact that he’s here with me, loving me after what has felt like an eternity. I’m in heaven despite the hell the morning will surely bring.

  He raises up on his hands, his eyes full of so many emotions I can’t keep up with them all. He thrusts his hips forward making me gasp and my eyes roll back in my head from the intense pleasure. My thighs grip his waist tighter, my fingers biting into his arms as he drives into me over and over. He angles himself perfectly, grinding against my clit and hitting my G-spot with each exquisite pump of his hips, eli
citing noises I haven’t made in years. I feel him swelling, hardening even more inside me. It pulls me closer to the peak I’m struggling not to climb too fast. I never want this to end.

  “Open your eyes, Jenna. Look at me.”

  The tremor in his voice pulls at my heartstrings and my eyes fly open with worry.

  His breath is rushing out in gusts from between his swollen lips. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes rimmed red around flaming blue. “I need to see, I need to…” he pants, never slowing his pace.

  “I’m here. Right here.” I gasp, fighting not to fall before he does. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

  He lays down over me again, his eyes squeezing shut, causing a single tear to slide down his cheek. It triggers my own to quickly swell and spill over. I ignore them though, wiping away his instead.

  His back arches, his hips curling tighter and deeper into mine. He’s pushing me further, nearly begging me with his body to fall. I hold on just a little longer, threading my fingers through his hair as I pull it lightly, hoping to open his eyes. It works and I’m gifted with bright tropical oceans on a sunny day. He’s pushed the pain aside and all that’s left is love and passion as he looks into my own. I hope he sees the same in mine.

  His hips speed up, becoming erratic. I pursue them with fervor. He grips my hair, then he’s gone beyond where I can reach him. I still follow, falling into the glorious abyss.

  We come back to ourselves sometime later, breathing heavily and both damp with sweat. I feared things would be horribly tense once our needs were met, but he starts to place gentle kisses over my cheeks while his fingers brush the hair away from my sweaty forehead. I find his lips with my own and we kiss softly for a while. When he moves to lay down beside me, I wince, letting a hiss escape as he pulls out and gathers me in his arms.

  He goes still and looks down at me worriedly. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

  “I’m okay, just sore. It’s been awhile.” I rub his smooth back to assure him. He’s so warm I want to crawl inside of him and never come out.