Motherfucker… this feels like heaven. She feels like pure heaven.
I couldn’t move. If I did, I was going to embarrass myself and come before we even got started.
She began moving her hips while she ran her fingers lightly up and down my back. “Please move, Wyatt.”
I started to move… slowly in and out. I wanted this moment to last forever, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I leaned down and whispered how much I loved her into her ear.
“Oh, Wyatt…”
We moved together as one. Each time it felt like I was about to come, I’d stop. I wanted this to last.
Then, she started to move her hips more. “Wyatt… faster… oh god, I’m so close, please!”
I moved faster while Sky called out, “Harder! Oh god, I’m so close. Wyatt, it feels so good.”
The next thing I knew we were both calling out each other’s names as I poured myself into her body. I wanted nothing more than to do this every day with this woman and only this woman.
I stopped moving and stayed on top of her while we both caught our breaths. She opened her eyes and looked directly into mine. We both smiled at the same time.
“Oh god, Wyatt. That was…”
“Beautiful.”
She smiled and nodded her head. “Yes. That’s the perfect word to describe it.”
“That’s going to be our life together, Sky. Beautiful.”
“I love you, Wyatt.”
“I love you, Skylar. I’ll always love you.”
THE END
About the Author
Kelly Elliott
Kelly Elliott is married to a wonderful Texas cowboy who has a knack for making her laugh almost daily and supports her crazy ideas and dreams for some unknown reason… he claims it’s because he loves her!
She’s also a mom to an amazing daughter who is constantly asking for something to eat while her fingers move like mad on her cell phone sending out what is sure to be another very important text message.
In her spare time she loves to sit in her small corner overlooking the Texas hill country and write.
One of her favorite things to do is go for hikes around her property with Gus… her chocolate lab and the other man in her life, and Rose, her golden retriever. When Kelly is not outside helping the hubby haul brush, move rocks or whatever fun chore he has in store for her that day, you’ll find her inside reading, writing or watching HGTV.
Follow Kelly: http://www.authorkellyelliott.blogspot.com
Saving Snowflakes
A You & Me Trilogy Story for Book 1: Saving You Saving Me
By
Kailin Gow
Copyright © 2013 Kailin Gow ~ All rights reserved
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Aspiring psychiatrist and high school Valedictorian Samantha (Sam) Sullivan falls for a deeply troubled young man named Daggers during a crisis call on her watch, which leads to the unraveling of her perfect world.
The Call
The green light came on like the fierce emerald eyes of a dragon in the dark along with the familiar buzz of the telephone, startling me from my brief nap at Sawyer House. It was a slow night for the crisis call center I was volunteering at as a peer counselor. So slow that even Derek, the boyishly handsome Psych major at the University of California, Irvine, who usually took the same shift with me, left early to go back to his dorm to study for his mid-term exams.
I was fine with that, already feeling confident that I could handle most calls after working at Sawyer House for a couple of months. I was relatively new, but Derek said I was a quick study and after my first week at Sawyer House, was already handling calls by myself. As a graduating senior in high school, who was used to responsibility as a former class president, head cheerleader, and all that; I felt confident taking on the role of a peer counselor at the crisis center not too far from school. It was also related to what I wanted to do for a living someday. In a few months, I would graduate from high school and be on my way to college (hopefully Stanford) to begin my formal education to become a psychiatrist. As a graduating senior who took a plethora of advanced placement classes in high school and would probably graduate as the Valedictorian in school, I was coasting my way through the rest of my senior year. Senioritis had hit most of my classmates, and it was slowly hitting me too.
Except for that one thing…
I needed a scholarship to pay for college, to get to my dream of becoming a psychiatrist to help people. And… I had a good chance of getting one with my grades and most of my extracurricular activities, except it just wasn’t enough. Getting into Stanford was competitive, and Dr. Karen Green, my academic adviser wanted to make sure I did everything I could to get there. Told me I needed something more to boost my chances to getting a scholarship to Stanford, then arranged for a meeting for me at Sawyer House with the director there, for me to work as a peer counselor.
I had so many things to do already… finish high school, help out at my father’s church where he was a pastor, and help take care of my little sister Nydia when Mom could not to drive her home from school. Mom? She was another story altogether. She had a lot of insecurities, which one of them made her almost incapable of taking care of Nydia most times.
Yes, I had so many things to worry about… my own problems to worry about; I didn’t need to be hearing about other kids’ problems on top of my own.
But as soon as I started, from day one, I was sucked into a world so different from mine that I was drawn to stay at Sawyer House longer and longer.
The green light flashed again, waking me up a second time from my doze. I normally don’t sleep on the job, but since Sawyer House was staffed mostly by college student volunteers as peer counselors, and they were having mid-terms, I took on more hours to help cover for them this week.
“Hello,” I said, bright and cheery, overcompensating for my groggy state. I slapped my cheeks to wake myself up and cleared my throat. “Sawyer House, this is Susan speaking,” I said calmly. “What can we talk about tonight?” I asked. Using my Sawyer House name Susan, the name I used instead of my real name Sam for Samantha Sullivan, help me keep my peer counselor professionalism intact. According to Gail Green, the Director of Sawyer House and the founder, it was also to help protect peer counselors from getting too close and attached to a caller. I liked using it because it helped me assume another identity outside of my eighteen-year-old student one. Suddenly, I was Sawyer House Susan—fearless, rational, and able to dispense wisdom to all.
There was silence at the other end of the phone at first, but I waited. Most people calling into Sawyer House hesitate. It was natural… expected even, because the reason they were calling us was that they had a hard time telling anyone their problems to begin with. “Hello,” I said nicely. “I am still here. Anytime you want to begin, just begin.” I paused, then added, “Whatever you say will remain confidential. I’m not even allowed to know your identity so you cannot be recognized outside of this call.”
I heard a sigh. Then a voice as sweet as an angel said, “I did something that I regret doing.”
I waited for her to continue, but there was this hesitation again. “Why do you regret it?” I asked, not pressuring her about the “what”. That would come later.
“I regret it because I know I shouldn’t have done it,” the sweet little girl voice said. The girl sounded like she was twelve years old.
“Why? Why do you feel you shouldn’t have done it?” I asked.
“Because I didn’t know the boy well enough,” the girl said.
“Did you do something physical with him?” I asked.
“Yes,” the girl said. “But he was a man, not a boy from s
chool.”
“Mind me asking how old are you?” I asked
“I’m not as young as I sound,” the girl chuckled. “I am actually eighteen years old, but the boy, um, man is in his twenties.”
I froze.
This sounded too familiar. If I hadn’t slapped myself to wake me up, I would have thought I was dreaming. A strange Twilight Zone kind of dream. This girl and her man could have been Collins McGregor and I, the gorgeously sexy billionaire I had gotten into a physical relationship with a few months ago right at the same time I started at Sawyer House. Despite my initial shock, my mind started working. Overtime.
“Who is this man? And why did you regret being with him?” Now I was personally intrigued. Part of it mainly because I myself was going through a lot of issues over Collins.
“I regret going over to his house, and then getting undressed for him,” the girl said.
“Is he handsome, incredibly charming, sexy as hell, makes you just want to eat him up, lick him all over, and run your fingers up and down his incredibly toned abs?” I asked quickly.
There was a brief pause and then she asked, “What?”
I caught myself and said, “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. But this man, you found him irresistibly attractive… so charismatic that you just want to spend all your time with him, kiss him and even get undressed for him…”
There was an uncomfortable pause, but she answered, “Um, not exactly like that, but he was cute enough. I mean I met him over the internet, and he asked me to meet up with him, and we did, but he turned out to be not the same guy as on his profile.”
“Oh,” I said. “Did he hurt you?” I stopped thinking about Collins and focused on the girl. “If he did, then…”
The girl didn’t say anything for a while, and I drifted into my own thoughts. Collins and I had started becoming physical, but I had pulled away from him, out of my own insecurities. He never did anything to me that I would be scared about, but… I found myself taking steps backward, rather than forward with the relationship.
Maybe by listening to this girl’s story and by trying to help her through her problems with this guy, I can get over Collins. Despite how much and how hard I fell for the deeply troubled young billionaire.
“Mind if I ask what is your name?” I asked the girl.
“Trudi,” the girl said. “It’s not my real name, though. I’d be too embarrassed if anyone found out I called a crisis center.”
“Don’t worry. Whatever you say, including your name, is safe with us,” I said. “And Susan isn’t my real name. It’s to keep our identities safe both ways because at Sawyer House, we want you to feel comfortable enough to talk to us without being afraid that someone would know who you are. Now can you tell me what happened?”
The Crush
With that, the walls came down, and Trudi began talking…
“I met him through Twitter. I had posted a picture of myself wearing a tank top and shorts. He thought I was cute, and he asked for more photos. I posted more, and then he posted pictures of himself. Based on his photos, I thought he was cute at first, and he seemed so interested in me. So we started chatting regularly.”
She paused.
“So what happened next?” I prompted.
“I developed a huge crush on him. He seemed sophisticated, smart, witty, and handsome. He was only about ten years older than me, too.”
I cringed. Collins, my Collins, was handsome and sophisticated. He was also much more worldly than I, having traveled everywhere in the world in his short but daring and interesting twenty-seven years on earth. While I had spent my entire time in school. I couldn’t wait to graduate from high school and get started on a life of adventure like Collins’. He was the type of man who could sweep any girl off her feet, especially a girl my age, who haven’t experienced the world yet.
From Trudi’s description, she could easily be describing Collins…
“Did you feel guilty about falling for a man much older than you?” I asked.
“No, oh no,” Trudi said. “It wasn’t so much his age. I dated other guys older than me before, but they were all right. It wasn’t so much his age that made me feel like I shouldn’t have gone far with him, but what he did.”
“What he did?” I asked, my entire attention now riveted on what Trudi would say next. “What did he do?”
Not What He Seemed
There was a long pause as I waited for Trudi to continue. I waited for a full minute.
���Hello, Trudi?” I asked.
Silence.
Finally, I said, “It’s alright. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk. You don’t have to tell me tonight, if you don’t feel ready. Just know you have someone you can talk to when you do. You can even ask for me directly… Susan. Or someone else you feel more comfortable with.”
I looked at the clock on the wall across from my cubicle. It was already 10 pm. I had to start heading home before it got really late. Nothing had ever happened at Sawyer House before, knock on wood, but it wasn’t exactly located in the nicest neighborhood in the Santa Ana and Costa Mesa area of Orange County, California. There was a juvenile detention center close by if that was an indication of the kind of mixed neighborhood it was in with corporations, shopping malls, and then non-profits like Sawyer House nearby.
Whenever I stayed this late, Derek had stayed with me, closing down Sawyer House for the night and then walking me to my car to make sure I got in safely before taking off for the night. He had become a good friend; although it was clear he wanted more than just friendship. If I was any other girl, I would already be dating him. He was very cute in a scruffy college way with his just slept in brown hair and boyish smile. But he wasn’t Collins… the charismatic young billionaire with the body like an Adonis, and the sexy grin like the devil. Collins brought out so many feelings I’ve never felt before, feelings of passion and desire that made me risk my reputation as a Pastor’s kid and good girl. He was wickedly tempting, and the short amount of time I knew him, he treated me like a princess. Only… deep down inside of me, despite how strong and independent I thought I was, I wasn’t sure if that was how I wanted to be treated. It scared me.
Trudi still hadn’t said anything else. The phone was so silent; I thought she had hung up. I was about to, when I heard a slight muffling sound coming through the phone. A small whimper, a breath, and some sighing. Trudi was crying on the other side of the line. I could feel her body shake against the phone, and her breath jagged as she inhaled between sobs.
It was late, but I didn’t go home.
I let Trudi cried her eyes out, cried as much as she could to get the hurt out.
I just sat there, listening, not moving. Breathing steadily… loud enough to let her know, I was still here.
It was midnight when Trudi finally stopped crying, and said to me. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I have a feeling you would,” I said, trying to smile. I was exhausted, but I never felt more needed in the last few weeks than right now.
“I tried,” Trudi said. “I tried so many times to tell people how I felt, but they’ve just ignored me. Didn’t care. Even made a joke of it. I’m so so sick of it.”
“I’m glad you kept trying, Trudi,” I said.
“To tell you the truth,” she said, “I wasn’t going to call. I really didn’t think it would do any good.”
“I’m glad you gave it a chance,” I said.
“How old are you?” she asked suddenly. “You sound familiar, like you could be my age, but you also sound too mature to be a teenager. You’re in college?”
I laughed. “I think I have the opposite problem you have… I sound a lot older than I am. I’m graduating from high school, but I’m eighteen.”
“So, you really are a peer,” she said.
“I am, I’m your age,” I nodded.
“Then how can you understand what I’m going through? How can you give me advice on something you don’t know a thing about?”
“He raped me,” she said.
I stopped still.
“Repeatedly. Over and over again. I thought I wanted to have sex with him at first, but I changed my mind, but he forced me to go through with it. Said I was a tease and a slut.” Trudi took a deep breath. “I was a virgin. I thought I knew him, but he was so different from the computer nerd he portrayed on his profile. He wasn’t even in his twenties, but early thirties, and looked nothing like his photos. I made a mistake going to his place. I made a mistake trusting him.”
I heard everything she said, but the words came through to me like a funnel. I processed bits and pieces of what she had said, while my body shook as though it was freezing cold.
“Hello?” Trudi asked. “Are you there?”
My jaws were clenched tight, while I gripped the edge of my desk like vices.
“Susan?” Trudi asked.
Susan… I know that name. Susan is practical. She is logical. She can outthink through all problems to overcome anything.
Snap out of it, Sam! This is Susan speaking, and you get a grip on YOURSELF, not that table. Don’t even think about going into that dark hole. Don’t even think of it! That girl needs you to be strong for her right now. RIGHT NOW! So, snap out of it! Breath, relax, think of Collins.
Collins? Why Collins at a time like this? I couldn’t believe my rational side would suggest such a crazy idea like think about Collins. Why?
Stories for Amanda Page 13
