by Cary Hart
Reaching Lillian’s apartment, I scan for her number and punch the button, desperate to get to her.
Nothing.
Pressing the button repeatedly, I wait for her to let me in.
“Son, you OK?” A little old man comes up behind me.
“I will be once I get into this building. The woman I’m crazy about is up there and won’t let me in.”
“Ahhh, I’ve been there a time or two. When I proposed to my first wife, God rest her soul…” He does that cross thing over his chest, kisses a ring on his finger and looks up to the sky. I’m getting ready to interrupt him and beg, but he does it for me. “You know what? I won’t bore you with that story. Go get her.” He smiles and lets me in.
“Thank you!” I shout as I run towards the stairs, passing the elevator. It may have been faster, but I can’t stop now. I have to get to her.
“Edwards, Ben Edwards,” he hollers back, and I make a mental note to thank him someday if this works out.
Finally, I’m at her door, but my lungs struggling to find air stop me from knocking. Hunching over, I place my hands on my knees and take deep breaths. I need words if I’m going to make this work.
The door opens, and she stands before me. Clothes changed, makeup off and bloodshot eyes. “W-what are you doing here? Mr. Edwards said he had something for me.”
I can’t help it, a smile spreads across my face. Mr. Edwards still working his magic. “Surprise.” I hold out my hands.
“Seriously?” She goes to slam the door, and my smile fades. I catch the door with my arm.
“Stop running away.” I let myself in, slamming the door behind me. “You had your say, but now I’m going to have mine.” My voice is coming out harsher than I intend.
I work my way toward her, but she finds a way to keep her distance. “You’re right. I am nothing.” I use her words.
“No, Brian you aren’t nothing.”
“Yes, I am. I’m nothing if you aren’t with me. I’ve wanted you since I saw you in that green bikini, and needed you since I first touched you.”
“Brian…I’m not worth it. You may not want to leave now, but eventually you will. Everyone leaves me," she argues sadly.
“Lil, just shut up and listen. You are worth it. You have been running all your life. Stop. Just stop, for a minute. Let someone love you. Let me love you.” I pause, but not long enough for her to interrupt again. “I know life has sucked. Your dad left, your mom remarried, you were lost.”
“You found me,” she whispers.
“Let me —" I cut myself off. "Wait? What did you say?” I’m not sure if I heard her right.
“You found me.” Her sad eyes pierce my soul, and she repeats the words I wanted to hear again. “I said, you found me.”
Desperate to feel her, I close the distance. Grabbing the back of her head, I bring her mouth to mine. Her lips are shaky and desperate as they meld with mine. Our tongues tangle, speaking the words we're unable to say. Backing her up against the wall, I press myself into her, showing exactly how much I need her.
Breaking the kiss, her breaths come out hard and rapid. Her body shows me she doesn’t want to stop, as she pulls me closer. “Brian, what I said, I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” I reassure her, but the words still replay in my mind.
“No, you don’t. Brian, you are so brave and strong. You wanted better than your father’s corporate world. You left at a young age and made a small, rundown bar into a local hot spot. The atmosphere is amazing and the food keeps everyone coming back. Brian, you built that. Not your father, you.” She pauses, reaching up, softly placing a hand on each side of my face. Her touch is like feathers caressing my skin. “I tried to hurt you. Please forgive me." She waits for a response.
“Lillian Richards, not only do I forgive you, but I love you. Every single broken piece of you.” Her eyes go wide, her head shaking back and forth. “Yes, I do. Don’t fight it baby.”
“Bri…”
I see her wheels turning so I cut her off before she starts second-guessing this.
“Enough telling Lil, let me show you.” Turning her in my arms, I slowly brush her hair to the side, loving the feel of her skin like satin under my fingertips. Lowering my mouth to her ear I kiss her gently, tasting her for what feels like the first time. It’s different than before. I can feel she senses it too, as her body writhes against mine, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“Bri…”
“Calling out my name already?” I smile against her skin, licking and nipping my way to that sensitive little spot on the back of her neck.
“You are so beautiful.” My voice drips with lust.
"And." Nip.
“Mine.” Lick.
“Forever.” Suck.
I can’t keep this up, my need for her is overwhelming all my senses. My veins are throbbing, my heart crashing against my ribs. Seeing her like this, raw and wanting, has me drowning in emotions I have never felt before. I can’t take it. I need her. Now.
Lifting her in my arms, I move us to the couch and gently lay her down. Not wasting any more time, I tug the soft cotton shirt over her head and work on ridding her of her bottoms. I pull them down, my hands dragging along her thighs, teasing her as I go. Once she's free I move the journey upward, nibbling until I find the very spot I crave.
She stops me to pull my own shirt over my head, nails trailing down my back as she draws me close again.
“Brian, please.” Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling me closer to her core with a sense of urgency. Desperate for my touch, she bucks her hips higher.
Biting the inside of her thigh I finally give her what she wants. One lick, than two. I can’t contain myself. I devour her. Licking, sucking, as her body responds and finds a rhythm it needs, but still wanting more.
Her hands find mine, pushing them where she wants them. One finger, then two, I slowly pump. Her spine straightens and her nails dig, cutting into my skin, the best kind of pain, showing me the pleasure I’m giving her. I drink from her like a man dying of thirst. Her body trembles under my touch, making me grow harder at the thought of being inside her. Pulling away only long enough to kick off my jeans and boxers, I settle back between the delicious heat of her legs wrapped tightly around me.
“Brian, I need you,” she pleads, arms tangling around me, frantically pulling me up. The hunger is not satisfied, not even close. I don't know if my appetite for her will ever be.
She attacks my mouth, kissing me like I'm her lifeline. And maybe I am; God knows she's mine. Desperate for each other we become a tangle of naked limbs.
Mouths hungry, lips roaming, teeth scraping. Reaching between us, I slowly rub myself between her folds, teasing us both as I feel the wetness from the pleasure seeping out of her.
Mine. Rubbing up and then down, just once more, before sliding in. The feel of her around me, drawing me in, almost undoes me instantly. My eyes clamp shut and I pump slowly before picking up the pace.
She feels perfect. Needing more I lower myself, changing the angle to press deeper. My arms bend, my body falls onto her, the weight pressing her further into the couch. I want her to feel me, all of me. Feel as consumed as I feel with her wrapped around me, milking me.
“Brian, it feels…”
“Perfect,” I finish for her.
“Mmm-hmm.” She moans, before her head falls and back she screams.
Her cries of pleasure ring in my ear, causing me to fall over the edge and my own orgasm crashes through me like a rogue wave.
Chapter 14
Lillian
Why me? The sun pounds in the bedroom window. I have the room-darkening blinds that I begged Brian to get, but by the time we actually made it to the bedroom it was dark out and closing the blinds was the last thing on my mind.
Pulling the covers over my face, I roll over to snuggle into Brian, but instead of finding a warm pillow of yummy goodness, I find nothing but an empty bed and cold sheets.
I freak out sl
ightly, wondering if he left, and realizing what I really am. “Brian?” I call out, praying I’m wrong and he is here somewhere.
Nothing.
Panic starts to set in. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I grab his T-shirt he threw on the floor last night and pull it over my head as I walk out of the room. “You in here?” I try to joke, but fail.
Nothing. He’s gone.
Pulling out the barstool, I sit down, laying my head on the counter and closing my eyes. I will myself to not feel this way.
I don’t know if seconds or minutes pass, but the one thing I do know is that Brian is not here. Opening my eyes, one at a time, I decide to stop feeling sorry for myself and grab a cup of coffee.
Coffee! I smell coffee!
Rushing over to the pot. I see an almost full pot and beside it is a note.
Good Morning Lil!
I had to run an errand, be back in a few. Have a cup of coffee and wake up because once I get back you are going to need it.
Love,
B.
Pouring myself a cup, I down it not caring that it’s black or steaming hot. I sometimes nuke my coffee after it brews because the coffeemaker doesn’t get it hot enough for me.
Hurrying to the bathroom I rinse off in the shower and brush my teeth. I’m not having a replay of morning breath kisses.
Wrapping the towel tighter around me, I walk into the bedroom and see Brian standing there in his board shorts, T-shirt and flip flops. I drink in the view. The only thing better would be Brian wet and shirtless. Hmmm…I get lost in thought.
“See something you like?” Brian chuckles, and it’s the best sound ever.
“You.” I walk over to him, dropping my towel along the way and wrap myself around his body, sprinkling kisses all over his face.
“Someone is glad to see me?” He captures my lips as they pass over his.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Well, good. I hope you still think that after you see your surprise.” He sets me down and points over to the bed.
“Ummm. What’s that?”
“That is your sexy-as-hell green bikini and a wet suit.” He walks over to grab the items and tries to hand them to me. “Go put them on. We are going surfing.”
“Say what?” I joke, pulling my hands away and refusing to take the suit. “You think you are going to take me, the one who doesn’t have an athletic bone in her body, surfing?”
Truth is, I would go anywhere with him.
“Yep! I ran out to the beach and it’s a perfect day to be out there.” He stuffs them into my hands and turns me toward the bathroom, giving me a little push.
Doing as he says I decide to give my ass a little shake along the way. “You sure you don’t want to stay in?” I try to tempt him.
“That right there?” he points to my backside. “Is mine, but first we surf.”
“But first we surf,” I repeat and close the door behind me.
“What? The show over?” he shouts across the room.
Opening the door, I peak my head out. “Yep. I don’t want to accidently tempt you to stay in.” I wink.
After changing into my bikini I throw on a cover-up, opting to put on the wetsuit when we get to the beach. Putting a bag together with a couple towels and sunscreen, I open the door and see Brian lying on the bed. “I’m ready.”
“’Bout time.” He jumps up and grabs my hand, pulling me behind him. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” I dig my heels in.
“Nope…not changing my mind. Let’s go. I promise you will love it.” He gives my arm a little tug.
“Brian.” I drop his hand, getting his attention.
“What is it?” He turns around, a look of worry on his face.
“I’m sorry. I just need to confess something. This morning when you weren’t there, I panicked. I thought you left me.” There, I said it.
“Babe…” He pulls me in close.
“I’m broken and I think a part of me will always be that way. You can try to build me up and put me back together, but something is missing. I’m not sure if it has to do with my dad leaving before I was born or if it’s just who I am, but I’m trying. I want to be whole for you.”
Pulling back a little, just enough to be able to look at me, he says, “I want you. All of you. Even if that means putting you back together like a 5,000-piece puzzle, and even if when that puzzle is put together a piece has gone missing. You know that piece?” he questions, and I nod. “I’ll search for that piece. Hell, I’ll make a piece.” His smile is warm and full of love.
His words hit home. “You are the piece.”
“Damn straight I am. Now let’s go get some glue. I got a puzzle to solve.”
“I love you, Brian Andrews.”
“I love you too, Lil.”
Epilogue
Sami
“J.R., can you believe it? We are on our way to Music City. A place where dreams come true.” I can’t help it. The excitement has overtaken me, and I’m bouncing up and down, probably making the other passengers nervous.
“I’m pretty sure dreams come true at Disney World, but I get the gist. You. Are. Excited.” J.R. looks over to me, placing a hand on my knee. Either trying to comfort me or get me to sit still. Either way, it’s nice. He’s nice.
“Nashville is my Disney World and Opry Land is my castle…so what of it?” I giggle and wait for his reaction.
“You don’t say?” he says as he pulls out his phone and scans his emails.
Not quite the reaction I thought I was going to get. The one thing I noticed about J.R., besides his total hotness, was his witty charm. Being holed up with him for a couple days writing was ah-mazing! Everything felt natural, the chemistry flowed. So, when one day led to two, I didn’t fight it. I was begging for three.
“Hey…what’s your deal? Did I do something wrong?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him. “You seem out of whack.”
“Whack?” he questions without looking at me.
“Yeah, out of whack, out of order. As opposed to being wack. Definition, lame. Used in a sentence, ‘cause inside out is wiggity, wiggity, wiggity, wack.’”
This causes him to look up. “Seriously? Did you just quote Kris Kross?”
“Sometimes epicness comes in the rarest forms.” I smile hoping to catch a glimpse of one from him.
“Epicness? Kriss Kross is not epic.” His mind is too boggled to understand the pure awesomeness behind my comments. I have started a battle. One I hope ends in the same way as the other day: with a fairytale kiss. Pure epicness!
“Come on now, anyone who can convince kids and adults of all ages and sizes to wear their clothes backwards is pure epicness. Actually, it is so epic, epicness doesn’t even cover it. Hell, it deserves two words. No, a hyphenated word…grandiose-fantasticism!” I pause for effect. “Don’t you think?” I ask, waiting for him to join in, but all I get are stares.
Then finally, in a slo-mo response, a smile starts to creep up on J.R.’s face. “Kid, you are something else.”
“Kid? I’m not a kid…take that back.”
“Jag, get a hold of your new toy before she drives the rest of our crew nuts.” A short, middle-aged man who I recognize from the other night leans forward to talk to J.R. “The flight attendant said if she doesn’t quiet down she will have to take a commercial flight.”
“She’s not going anywhere. Now sit back down and mind your own fucking business.” J.R. shoots back.
“Jag, I’m just sayin’ the label’s rep is on the line already, we don’t need—” short dude tries to defend himself.
“I said, mind your own business. I got this.”
“My hero!” I clasp my hands over my heart, blinking wildly at him.
This gets me another smile. Sexy!
“Hey, why did he call you Jag? Is that some kind of nickname or something?” Curiosity is killing me. Why do they call him that? Is it because he flies so much? Does he drive a Jag? Enquiring minds need to know.
“That’s my name.”
“Huh? I just figured it was J.R. because your name was like Edward Adams Jr. or something like that.”
“Nope. Nothing like that.” The smirky smile is back. “Jagger Michael Richards, named after my dad and his love for all things Rolling Stones.”
“Huh. Who would have thunk it.” I look at him, thinking Jagger fits way better than J.R. “So why J.R. and not Jag?”
“Most of my friends and co-workers call me Jagger, but some of the older people in the industry still call me J.R., for Jagger Richards, Micky Richards’ boy.”
“Wait? You are Micky Richards’ son? The owner of Thorn Records?” I’m sitting closer now, hanging on every word he says.
“He was the owner of Thorn Records. My dad passed away last month.” He looks past me, out the window.
“I’m so sorry, Jag.” I find his hand and grab hold of it, hoping he finds a little bit of comfort in my touch.
“Don’t be, he was an asshole who thought more of his career than his own family.” He jerks his hand away like I have some kind of life-threatening, skin-eating disease.
“Jag —”
“This is your captain speaking. You can call me Jett, or Captain or Captain Jett. I’m pretty damn awesome and use all these million little buttons and levers to fly this aircraft. So, given safety really did their job and checked everything, I will have no problem getting you to your destination which is…” The sound of papers rustling comes over the intercom. “Nashville.”
The plane erupts in a bunch of hoots and hollers.
“So, please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. The flight attendants have something to say. Listen close, it may save your life.”
“Well, looks like we are getting ready to go. Fasten up little one.” Jag reaches over and buckles my belt, making sure it’s on tight.
“Jag?”
“Yes, Sami?”
“I’m scared. I’ve never flown in a private jet before. Actually, I have never flown,” I confess.
“It’s OK, I got you…I promise.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
