Crashed

by Danielle A. Elwood

  It wasn't until she relaxed away from him that she noticed the house in front of which they were standing—the house she had grown up in.

  Her eyes raked over the white and blue exterior of the beachfront home. Until she'd seen the house, she hadn't had a chance to fully realize the phantom memories which had eluded her. For a moment, Avery was unaware of a change in her, taking her in his arms as she stared at the house. He felt her stiffen.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and walking toward the worn, wooden staircase that lead to the faded, white-painted deck.

  “I haven't been here in so long,” she whispered as she took each step slowly to the deck. The last time she'd set foot there, she had been with Jared. And for some reason, something had caused him to walk away and never look back.

  She remembered. Finally, she remembered. He'd left her when she'd needed him most—a few days after her parents had been killed. Rage boiled inside her. A rogue tear fell over her cheek.

  “Whose house is this Emily?” He asked, thoroughly puzzled.

  “Mine.”

  He could feel her heart racing. Her arms were limp in his.

  "I never thought I would be able to come back here," she said, the tears flowing freely.

  "We don't have to go in. We don't have to come here ever again if you don't want to," he said, squeezing her tight.

  Her eyes focused on the windows, the salt-marred siding. He was offering her a way out but with him there, she felt a renewed strength. Still her limbs shook at the prospect of revisiting her past and sharing it with someone else. But if the person were Avery, could I do it? she thought to herself. Their connection was strong, one she felt she'd been missing in her life. She wanted him around. She wanted to share, not only the good times, but the ugly too. The prospect—like the house, like her past—was terrifying.

  "It's not time to go in now," she said after a long silence, "but one day, it will be." She turned and kissed his lips softly. He rubbed her back then squeezed her tight against him.

  "I'll be here," he said, wanting more than ever to guard her. "Until then, you don't have to talk about it. We can go and do something else," he said, letting her out of the embrace. He brushed some sand from her wet cheek.

  "I think I want to," she said, taking his hand. She eased onto the deck and he followed suit.

  “About two years ago, my parents were driving home from a dinner-party my grandparents had put on at the raceway. It started to rain. They were on the Dunlawton bridge, heading towards beach-side" Her voice faltered and he took her hand. “A drunk driver hit them head on. They died on impact." Her breath caught in her throat and she saw no reason to fight her tears. "The driver ended up in a wheel chair. They didn't deserve to die... He didn't deserve to live.”

  “I went through the house for about a week after they died. I tried to go through everything, I really did. My ex was with me on the last night I ever set foot in the house. When he left, I couldn't cope with it all, so I left. I haven't been inside since.”

  No wonder she had gotten bad vibes from Jared. He was an ugly part of her past.

  She stared into the distance, the orange sunset engulfing the sky and she couldn't help but smile despite the sorrow running riot in her heart. There was bittersweet consolation in the feeling that her parents watched over her.

  He squeezed her hand in his. She looked into his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance they'd sent Avery to her—to protect her and love her the way a man should.

  “You're amazing; you know that?” He hugged her tight into his side.

  She tucked into the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. They waited for something to take them away from the magic of the moment. She realized nothing would or could.

  The magic would stay long after the moment was over.

  When they walked through the door, there was a moment of uncertainty. He wasn't sure whether he was staying or going.

  “Are you busy tomorrow?” She bit her bottom lip swaying from one foot to the other while eagerly waiting for his answer. She batted her big blue eyes at him.

  “Nope. Not a thing. You got somethin' in mind, Sugar?” His southern accent did it for her every time.

  “I was actually hoping you would stay with me tonight and keep me company," she said. After the emotional toll she'd suffered, she could use the comfort.

  “There's no where else I'd rather be,” Avery answered honestly. At that point his mind wasn't specifically fixated on sleeping with her. They could watch movies, play board games, or just lay around talking and he would be perfectly content.

  “Good. Let's watch a movie in the bedroom," she said, grinning. He nodded and followed her to her movie shelf. “How about Fools Rush In?” she asked. “I love that one.”

  He couldn't deny her after seeing how excited she was. He realized he would have done much more than endure a 90's chick flick to keep her happy.

  She locked up the house and turned off all the lights. It was cozy in her bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed as if he lived there. She didn't mind.

  "I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. I'll be out in a few," she said with a grin. She pulled open her dresser drawer and tossed a navy-blue, simply cut, but loose nightgown on the bed, before grabbing it. She disappeared behind the bathroom door.

  While she was gone, he stripped off his shirt and pants, electing to stick with just his boxers. Besides the fact that he had a raging hard-on at the thought of sleeping beside her, that was how he normally slept.

  She came out of the bathroom wearing the nightgown and a pair of gaudy, fuzzy, hot-pink slippers.

  “What the hell are those?” He laughed as she rounded the bed, bringing them within eyeshot. They both laughed.

  "They are pretty hideous, aren't they? They're really comfortable, though. You look comfortable," she noted aloud. He was lounging on the coverlet in just his boxers. It took all of her control to tear her eyes away from his rippling pectorals. She almost dropped the DVD as she removed it from its case. As soon as the tray closed, she hopped onto her lifted Queen-sized bed.

  “You ever consider getting a bed closer to the ground?” he teased.

  "Ever think of getting a truck closer to the ground?" she asked, sticking her tongue out.

  "Good point," he answered. They chuckled and she cuddled into his side.

  “My bed is great. It was exactly what I was looking for when I went to the furniture store," she said, hitting the play button the DVD menu.

  "Everything in here goes really well together. Have you ever thought of being an interior decorator?” he asked.

  “God, you don't know how much I would love to do that.” She was beyond serious. It had always been something that interested her. Between Pinterest and her own desire for crafting projects she would die to make a career out of it.

  The thought of a career change frightened her, but after living through a horrible accident and not feeling at all that she should go back to her previous job, the prospect of change was inviting. The sky was the limit for her future. Her sister wouldn't approve. In fact, Amelia hadn't approved of much Emily had done with her life. But she didn't need anyone else's approval in the end. Change was starting to sound good.

  The movie ended but while they mulled over what to watch next, its plot sparked conversation.

  “Could you imagine living that story?” Avery asked.

  “Oh, yes! Ever since I saw that movie, I've secretly always wanted to end up knocked up by some random one-night stand." Sarcasm dripped off her words as she laughed at Avery. She slipped off the bed reaching for the two movies they had to choose from. Her nightgown rode up, revealing, for just a moment, her bare ass.

  Commando? Oh dear lord! He thought, desperately trying to forget he'd seen anything. Down boy!

  “Okay, Princess Bride or Legally Blonde?” Emily turned around to catch Avery staring a hole through her back. God he looks gorgeous in my b
ed, she thought.

  “Girly or girlier? God, such a crappy choice.” They both laughed. “I don't have the best movie selection, sorry. I'm a chick, I like chick movies.” Emily didn't watch movies that often. Watching Serendipity with Avery had been the first time in a long time since she'd indulged.

  “I guess I will go with...” he pretended to give it serious thought. “The Princess Bride." He propped himself up on an elbow, puffed his chest out and recited,"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

  She laughed and cued up the DVD, then flopped back onto the bed.

  "That was hot!" she exclaimed, tucking herself into her side.

  "Oh, yeah? You like Inigo Montoya?"

  "I like you," she said with a grin.

  He stooped and pressed his lips to hers, pinning her to the bed as the kiss grew feverish. Kisses were never dull when he shared them with her. They never ceased to ignite desire in him. With each swipe of her tongue, Avery could feel his erection growing between the two of them. Thankfully he was under the blankets while Emily was above. He wished there was nothing separating them. She was doing a great job of getting him riled up. After the kiss, she crawled under the covers next to him.

  The movie hadn't been playing long when she spoke over it. “This whole thing with us...” She paused to compose herself. She wasn't great and expressing her feelings. “I feel like there is something really great happening. I told myself from the start, I wanted to take thing's slow. But whenever I am with you, I want to throw all caution to the wind.” She exhaled and ran her fingers through his gorgeous sandy hair.

  “I feel the same way.” He lowered his mouth and kissed up and down the length of her exposed neck. “I want my days to begin and end with you Emily.” His tongue snaked out of his mouth, licking a short length from her collarbone to her ear before slowly sucking on her earlobe. “I can't stop," he growled into her ear. "You drive me crazy," he whispered. She shuddered, her hands roaming over his chest.

  "Don't stop," she begged.

  Avery worked his way from her lips down, on a mission to taste her luscious breasts. Emily threw her fingers into his hair, filling her hands with his blond locks.

  He slid her nightgown away from her chest, taking each nipple in his mouth until they hardened between his teeth. Her moans filled the room. She was completely frozen under his spellbinding touch. He cupped one breast while he suckled on the other, alternating until she gasped.

  Her body hummed. No man had made her feel that way before. All she wanted was him to be buried deep inside of her, to be connected with him as much physically as she was emotionally. He moved further south, heading for her wet slit. She encouraged him with wild moans.

  He wouldn't have to turn her on. She was already pantyless and wet with anticipation for him. Her bare pussy glistened in the light of the television behind him as he gently ran a single finger over her swollen bud. The contact against her dripping sex made her jump with the sudden flood of sensation.

  He dropped his head between her legs, taking a slender thigh in his left hand, while he used his right to play between the folds at her center. He slid the finger inside and she gripped him as if her life depended on it. He pumped his finger in and out of her. He flattened his tongue and flicked it over every inch of her pussy, lapping up her generous juices. She was by far the most delicious woman he'd ever tasted.

  He retracted his finger and took her right thigh in his liberated hand. He held her in place as he feasted, sliding his tongue in and out of her until she was screaming. She squirmed restlessly under his eager touch while her orgasm inched closer. She begged for release, begged him not to stop, cried out his name. To bring herself even closer, she pinched and rolled her own nipples in her fingers.

  “Oh fuck! I'm gonna come!” she cried out as his teeth gently nibbled at her clit, sending her over the edge. He plunged a finger into her as gently but quickly as possible. She clenched his digits unmercifully, her screams rattled the walls as the spasms continued.

  Her mouth was open, her lips chapped as she sucked in breaths. She heard the frantic rush of her pulse. At the height of her ecstasy she'd shut her eyes and when she opened them her vision was blurry. Her hips had bucked from the covers and she dropped to the mattress.

  He leaned in, taking Emily's lips. She never thought she could enjoy the taste of her own sex, but it was intoxicating to toss the flavor between their mouths. He lifted away from her and sat straight up, smiling as if she were a fine statue to be admired.

  Still shaky from her orgasm, she rose from the bed and drew her nightgown over her head. It was in the floor before another second passed. He drank in the sight of her. She nudged him down into a recumbent position.

  "Now it's my turn," she whispered against his lips.

  He hardened to a painful level. She kissed his eyes closed, feathering more over his cheeks, nose and lips. They were almost imperceptibly light, but each one made him shiver with anticipation. She ran her hands down his neck and over his arms. She grazed her fingernails down his chest and his mouth opened when the sharp tips raked his nipples.

  Instead of removing his boxers right away, she reached a hand into them, grasping him in her fingers. If his eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of his head. His cock throbbed in the palm of her small hand. She stroked once and he groaned. How often had he fantasized about this exact thing? A hundred?

  She tugged the elastic down and he reached to help shimmy them down his legs. His erection bobbed out to meet her. She dragged her hands palm-down over his torso and the chiseled V at the crest of his hips. Locking his eyes with him, she licked her lips, then trailed her tongue along the swollen head of his dick. She gripped him at the base, then started stroking. She suckled on the head, drawing his sensitive skin to the tip then pressing it all the way back down. Each stroke paired with the movement of her talented tongue was making him crazy. She quickened her pace and he was sure he wouldn't last long if she kept it up. He reached down to try and ease her away.

  Instead of stopping, her strokes got deeper until the head of his cock was connecting with the back of her throat. Panting like a dog in heat, his cries became as loud as hers had been.

  He stiffened and she locked her head in place, her lip pressed against his pelvic bone. With a deep moan he emptied everything he had into her throat. When his spasms had ceased, she slid his semi-hard length out of her mouth and eased away.

  Steadily she caught her breath, then wiped the corner of her mouth. She smiled at him. He chuckled, letting go of the sheets which had become balled up in his fists.

  “My God, woman. You are amazing.”

  She curled up into his side again, running her hands over his chest. He leaned over and kissed her for what felt like hours. Before he knew it, his aching dick was starting to throb again. Their lips slowly parted and they looked into each others eyes, wondering who was going to break the silence. Both exhibited extreme self-control. She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her.

  “We shouldn't,” he said, a look of frustration flashing through his eyes. She was so drunk on the moment, she was barely able to process what was happening.

  The reality set in, that he was right. As much as she wanted to feel him inside of her, deep and rough, she wouldn't push anything further than either of them could handle. She nodded and stood shakily.

  "I think I'm going to need a new nightgown." She rose from the bed. He took deep breath and laid back on the pillows, his arms spread out wide. "You'd better get back into your boxers," she said with a giggle. He smiled, basking in the afterglow.

  She cleaned up a little then came back to put on new pajamas. Luckily for her, he had reapplied his underwear. She crawled onto the bed and crept over him. His eyes were closed and she ran her hand over his cheek. He smiled in his half-sleep.

  She kissed him softly. "Are you real? Will you disappear before I wake up?" she whispered.

  "I'll be here to kiss y
ou good morning," he whispered back running his fingers through her hair.

  She hadn't slept well since the accident. Every night she'd either dreamt of Avery or her parents. And while the dreams of Avery had usually been really hot, they'd also made her restless. The light filtering through her bedroom curtains woke her. He was still asleep.

  True to his word, he hadn't disappeared. She watched him for a few minutes, committing his gorgeous face to memory. He stirred and his arm hooked around her protectively and drew her close. He mumbled something. She smiled happily and kissed his chin. He moaned happily.

  "Good morning," she whispered.

  "Hm?" he asked, still very much asleep.

  "Wake up," she said.

  "Hm?" his arm loosened from around her and went over his head. He stretched out but still snored.

  She crawled on top of him and pressed kisses to his face until he gradually gained consciousness. He smiled big.

  "Mmm. Morning," he said, wrapping his arms around her. She kissed him deep despite his morning breath. She couldn't help but feel his morning salute poking up between her legs.

  "I'm going to get up and brush my teeth and make coffee. The bathroom is all yours once I'm out. You can use my toothbrush," she said, sliding off of him and going into the bathroom.

  He laid in the dawn light struggling to become useful. She finished her morning ablutions quickly.

  "Get up sleepy head," she said with a grin.

  "If there ain't nothin' on fire, I ain't gettin' up," he said, grinning.

  "You'll miss breakfast," she threatened.

  "Okay. Fire or breakfast." He chuckled and sat up.

  She went into the kitchen and loaded up the coffee pot for a four-cup brew. She heard the toilet flush in her bathroom and the sink faucet turn on. She put some bread in to toast and pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of shredded cheese.

  Before she could crack a single egg, there was a knock at the door. She wondered who would come over at that time of morning. Amelia maybe? Certainly not Becca...