Girth

by Savannah Rylan

  After I left for the army, Emma and I attempted to stay together for a few months, but once I underwent my first active duty, I stopped all communication with her. I just couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she would never be able to love me with what I became.

  Even though I was just defending myself and my fellow brothers in arms, I was a killer, and I hated myself for that. The first few months after my first kill were the hardest, and that was when the nightmares started. I kept dreaming about hurting the people I cared about, and it was scaring the shit out of me.

  So, when she tried to reach out to me several times, I never responded, coming to terms with the fact that we were over and that it would be best for me to let her go. She could find someone way better than me, someone who didn’t carry a shitload of problems with him.

  Her letters went from concern to anger, until they eventually stopped, which threw me into a depression I hadn’t been prepared for at all. I still kept her last letter to me. It broke my heart to read it, but I kept it with me because it reminded me of my choice.

  “Why, Noah? I’m sure she’d be happy to know you’re back home.”

  “What’s the point? Besides, I’m sure she already found someone else.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I’m not sure about that. After all, that girl loved you so much, and it’s not that easy to get over a feeling like that.”

  “Seven years have passed, mom. That’s a plenty of time to get over a heartbreak and first love.”

  “Have you gotten over it?”

  That was a damn good question. I’d told myself I had moved on, but I was proved wrong when I returned to Indiana and the first person I thought of was her. I’d even expected her to show up out of nowhere and come back to me like nothing had happened. Pathetic, I know.

  So, apparently, I still felt something for her, but I knew better than to act on it. She didn’t deserve someone like me. And I was sure she hadn’t forgiven me for leaving her to join the army.

  “Yeah,” I answered her without even looking at her. I was sure she could tell I was bullshitting, but she didn’t press me for the truth, which I felt grateful for.

  Half an hour later, I was in my SUV on my way home. As soon as I entered my car, I was reminded of Emma, remembering how excited I was when I got my driver’s license and wanted to take her out for a drive. In the end, we ended on a hill overlooking our town.

  We were sitting on the hood, our hands entwined as we looked at the star-heavy sky.

  “One, two, three, four…,” Emma suddenly started counting, and I turned my head to look at her, chuckling.

  “What are you doing?”

  She pointed at the sky, looking at it. “I’m counting the stars.”

  This caused my chuckle to turn into a loud laughter. This was one of those silly things I loved about her. She’d told me that ever since she was little she had that odd wish to count every single star. Even at the age of seventeen, she didn’t stop trying.

  I brushed her cheek with my hand. Her skin was so soft and it was difficult to keep my hands to her when she felt and smelled so good. “Good luck with that.”

  She whipped her eyes at me. “You mock me now, but just you wait.”

  “Whatever you say, baby.”

  “You said that when I told you I wanted to try skydiving, even though I’m terrified of heights. But in the end, you ate your words.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, feigning indifference, but I was actually feeling proud of her. Yes, she was unusually afraid of heights, and yes, I hadn’t believed she would actually do it, but she proved me wrong when we went skydiving for my seventeenth birthday. That birthday was one of the best days of my life.

  “Skydiving and doing something as impossible as counting all stars are two worlds apart. It’s like saying that magic exists!”

  She arched her eyebrow. “And what if it does?”

  I snorted, shaking my head at her. “You’ve been watching Harry Potter too much.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “One day, someone will prove that magic does exist, and you’ll eat your words again.”

  I rolled my eyes, amused to no end. “Yeah, sure. And I’ll win the lottery and become one of the richest men alive.”

  She lay down and placed her head on her bent arms, wearing a sweet smile that made my eyes glue to her face.

  “You never know, Noah. If you believe that you can achieve anything you want, you’ll achieve it.”

  I couldn’t look away from her beautiful face, aware of my cock hardening in my pants. Only Emma could be so cute and sexy at the same time. My eyes darted to her big tits that were straining the material of her shirt each time she inhaled. I wanted her so much that my dick started throbbing.

  “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me,” she said with a smirk. My good girl was quickly turning naughty.

  I positioned myself above her, supporting myself against my elbow, while tracing her waist with my other hand. “And if I told you that I want to eat you? What would you do?”

  “I would tell you that we’re outside and can’t take that risk.”

  I brought my hand to her face and brushed her lower lip with my thumb. “Being outside haven’t stopped you before, babe. Or do I have to remind you about all those times you begged me to fuck you at some public space?”

  Her blue eyes darkened, and a moan slid over her plump, sensual lips. “Noah McAllister, you’re incorrigible.”

  “Which is exactly what you can’t resist about me.”

  She giggled, but then I covered her lips with hers, silencing her. The kiss wasn’t rough or passionate. It was sweet, and it showed the intensity of our love toward each other. Her arms wrapped around me, drawing me closer to her, and our bodies molded together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  At this moment, I wanted to keep her safe and protect her forever and ever. She was mine, and I wouldn’t want it any other way…

  My phone rang, pulling me out of my recollection. I groaned, realizing just how much I missed her. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and groaned when I saw it was one of my friends who had been pestering me to come hang out since I got back. I rolled my eyes, knowing that if I hadn’t answered the call now, he would continue calling me.

  “Hey,” I answered, putting the phone on speaker.

  “Hey, man! What’s up?” I could hear loud male voices in the background, which meant that he wasn’t alone. He was definitely having a get-together.

  “I just had dinner with my mother, but now I’m on my way to my place.”

  “Perfect! You can come to my place instead.”

  I let out a long sigh. “Jake, man, I’m tired, and I want to hit the sack early—”

  “How old are you? Eighty? You’ll sleep as much as you want when you die.”

  I winced, feeling the joke a little too personally. Once you saw death take a life away, you simply couldn’t joke about it anymore. However, I didn’t say anything, my tightened jaw the only response as I navigated through the dark streets.

  “Come on, bro. Our old friends are here too. Let’s meet for a beer. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  I raked my hand through my hair, aware that there was no way for me to dodge him this time. Maybe I could go and toss back a beer or two. It wasn’t like I could actually go home and fall asleep. I was already feeling too restless, which was one of the signs that I was in for another sleepless night.

  These days I didn’t know what was better. Sleeping and risking to have a nightmare or not sleeping at all.

  “Fine.” I finally gave in. “I’ll come to your place.”

  “That’s my man!”

  “Are you living at the same address?”

  “Yes. Do you remember it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Great. Then, laters.”

  “Laters,” I replied and ended the call, trying to convince myself that going to his place wasn’t a bad idea after all. I coul
dn’t hide in my solitude forever, and I actually needed friends.

  Making a U-turn, I headed to Jake’s house.

  Chapter 3

  Emma

  “I enjoyed this dinner with you a lot. So, do I get to see you again, cupcake?” the Tinder guy asked me, leering at me from his driver’s seat.

  I had already regretted accepting to let him drive me back home countless times, having already forgotten his name. The interior of his car reeked of cigarettes, and his yellow teeth made my insides crawl. The mixture of his cloying cologne and sweat was assaulting my nostrils, giving me another reason to want to get the hell away from him as soon as possible.

  The polite me would answer him with “Maybe” and send a small smile his way. The desperate me that hated this date prevailed and without further ado said, “Sorry, but no. I’m not interested. Thank you for the dinner.” At least I had paid the half of it, refusing to let him pay all by himself for the disaster of our meal.

  “Bitch,” he spat.

  I rolled my eyes, opening the door and rushing out before he turned all psycho on me and hit me or something like that.

  He left in a cloud of smoke, his tires abusing the asphalt as he sped up, and disappeared from my sight. With a long sigh, I unlocked my door and entered my place, telling myself I was supposed to know better.

  This was another failed date from one of the dating apps I used, which came after numerous fiascos I had gone through these last few years. I was so sick of those cocky guys on the app that thought swiping right was just an easy way for them to get into bed with another girl. This guy was another one who was so sure he could just slide his hand up my thigh underneath the restaurant table and get what he wanted.

  At least I wore jeans, so that was my silver lining.

  I plopped down on my couch, throwing my purse on the coffee table, and remembered how easy it was to be with Noah.

  I closed my eyes, feeling a well-known pressure in my chest that appeared each time I let myself think about him. The first two years after my breakup with Noah were the worst. I’d been so furious with him for not responding to my letters, which came like a cherry on the top after he chose to leave me to go to the army, showing me how little he actually cared about me.

  I was broken-hearted, but I was still determined to give him and our love one last chance. I stayed in contact with him, hoping he would reconsider his decision and come back, all the while praying that he would be in one piece and safe.

  But then he started ignoring my letters, making me realize I had been a complete fool. I’d thought something terrible had happened to him, but then I talked to his mother and she showed me his latest letter, which meant he was well and alive. He just didn’t want to communicate with me anymore.

  Giving up on him was the hardest decision of my life. My best friends tried to cheer me up, taking me out into clubs and introducing me to their single friends, but hooking up with men only made me feel more depressed, so I put a pause on dating, giving myself time to pull out of that inner gloominess that followed me wherever I went.

  I focused on my studies, finished my college, and started working as a kindergarten teacher, relying on time to heal my wounds.

  I loved my job, and I absolutely loved children, so I managed to get back on my feet emotionally and give myself another chance at dating. However, I only encountered the “fine men” drought, because all the men I’d been meeting were classic douchebags.

  They all thought that just because they had the looks, all girls would fall at their feet, but they were terribly mistaken. Sure, I’d let a few of them get into my pants because, after all, I needed some action, but each encounter left me more drained on an emotional level, until I reached the point where I was perfectly satisfied with having my vibrator get the job done. Who needed men when sex toys were hassle-free?

  In a rare moment of weakness, I unlocked my phone and scrolled through my photo gallery until I reached the bottom. There was that one photo that I had kept saved all this time, a stubborn and masochist part of me refusing to delete it.

  I felt tears prickling my eyes when they fell on Noah in the photo, who was smiling next to me, his arm wrapped around my waist while holding the phone with his other hand to take the shot.

  He made this photo a year before he went to the army, which was before all that tension between us started. My throat closed up at the happiness in our eyes, our smiles as huge as they could get as we posed for the camera.

  Everything about Noah had been perfect. He had been comfortable to be with, and he understood me more than anyone. And sex… Oh God, the sex was the best. I’d never found anyone who made me feel what Noah made me feel, and just thinking about it now brought the familiar heat to my pussy, which begged me to touch it and get rid of the pent-up tension.

  But I couldn’t. If I touched myself to the memory of Noah, I would break my promise to myself that I would never allow him to get into my head again. I had to be stronger than that.

  I threw my phone to the side and bit into my lip, attempting to force the memory of him out of my mind, but it was too late. As if watching a movie reel unfolding in front of my eyes, my mind returned to the first time I went to his house.

  Mrs. McAllister was down in the kitchen, so imagine my embarrassment when Noah took me to his room.

  “Noah,” I whispered to him when he pulled me up the stairs. “Are you sure this is okay? Your mom is right in the kitchen.”

  He rolled his eyes, wearing his signature smirk. “So, what? She likes you and she’s cool with me bringing girls into my room.”

  Blush coated my cheeks. “Oh, so you’re bringing girls to your room often?”

  Chuckling, he pulled me into his room and closed the door behind him. “Are you jealous?” He winked at me. “No, silly, you’re the first girl I brought here, but I talked with her before and she told me she didn’t mind me bringing girls here. So, relax.”

  He had backed me to his bed, not giving me any time to study his room before his lips covered mine.

  “You have no idea how many times I imagined you like this. In my room.” His hands slid down my shoulders and arms, reaching my waist, and he kissed me again, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth.

  I was torn, divided between wanting to do everything with him and the shame of having his mother so close to us.

  “Still, Noah.” I pushed him by his shoulders feebly, biting into my lower lip. “I don’t think it’s okay. She might hear us—”

  “Relax, baby.” He pushed me down on his bed and lay down next to me on his side. “Here, I won’t sleep with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He nestled his head in between my neck and shoulder and kissed the tender skin there. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t touch you.”

  When he leaned away to look at me, his eyes were filled with pure desire. Breath hitched in my throat, my heart beating like crazy. His hands traveled all over my chest and waist, weakening my resolve not to let him do anything to me here.

  “Please, baby. I just want to make you feel good.” He kissed my breast over my shirt, and a moan escaped my lips. “I just want you to give you pleasure. Nothing else. And if it will make you feel better…”

  He stood up and went to his stereo. He turned it on, and a rock song started playing, not too loud but loud enough to cover any moan that could slip out of my mouth.

  He returned back, and my eyes went over his hard-on that was tucked in his pants. My pussy throbbed at the sight, subtly telling me that I was acting foolish. I needed him. I needed what he could give me right now. So, screw insecurities and shame.

  “So? Can I touch you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, and he covered me again, smashing his lips against mine.

  His kiss was aggressive, almost bruising, igniting everything in me. I clutched his shirt, arching my back when his hands covered my breasts. I wore a bra, but the material was so flimsy that I almost felt his touch as if he was touching me directly. I could feel m
y nipples turning hard, my breasts aching for his mouth. He moved in between my thighs, his erection poking all the right places.

  “What do you want me to do?” he muttered into my neck, grinding himself against me, and I was quickly losing my control.

  “Suck my tits,” I said in a voice that wasn’t mine.

  He didn’t waste a second, pulling my shirt and bra up. He cupped the underside of my boobs and leaned to kiss one nipple then the other.

  “Ah, Noah…” His mouth wrapped around my nipple and sucked it, making my pussy soaking wet. “What are you doing to me? Jesus. So good.”

  He did the same thing to my other nipple before he returned to the first one and sucked it again. As much as I loved him doing this, I needed more, but he didn’t move his fingers to touch me down there.

  “Noah, please.”

  I could feel him smirk above my hard bud. “Please what? Tell me, Emma. Tell me exactly what you need.”

  Now I couldn’t care less that we were in his room and that his mother is here too. Now all I cared about was to get what I needed, and I needed it immediately.

  “Touch my pussy, Noah. I need you to touch me there.”

  “With pleasure, sweetheart,” his voice was thick with arousal, his hand hot when he slid it down my stomach and into the waist of my low-rise jeans.

  For a second, I felt relieved that I had remembered to shave my mound yesterday, but then the relief was replaced with pleasure when his fingers came in contact with my wet, pulsating flesh.

  “Fuck, Emma. You’re already so wet for me. You’re too fucking good.”

  I moaned when he started moving his fingers, slowly stroking my pussy, all the while supporting himself against his elbow as he lay down on his side next to me. His mesmerizing amber eyes were fixed on my face as he watched me, his quick breathing matching mine.

  “If you could only see yourself now,” he said, bringing his finger to my entrance. “You’re so beautiful.” He slipped that finger into me, filling me inch by inch, and I pressed my hand against my mouth to prevent myself from moaning.

  “Please, more.”