"That's not your business, Truman. You and I aren't together anymore."
His deep voice tickled my ear as he growled, "Yeah? You're all right with me taking up with Jen, then?"
I whirled around, pressing my lips together and glaring at him as I backed into the house. Tru approached with the magnetic grace of a man who knew how to use his body. Christ, I could smell him. Sweat and his unique fragrance swirled in the space between us and, fuck, I'd missed that scent. I watched the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched my reaction—lust commingling with repulsion at the thought of him with someone else. Especially Jen. That skank stepsister of his bassist Charlie, had been clamoring to get in his pants for the entirety of our relationship. He knew I detested her, knew his strike would hit its target.
I called his bluff, though it killed me to do it. "That's what it means to be broken up. You get to fuck anyone you want."
He sneered. "You're so full of shit. You think I don't know you inside and out? You can't hide from me. If I hooked up with Jen, it'd destroy you. I can see it written all over your face."
My anger spilled over, pulsing through my body right up into my throat, until I was sure when I opened my mouth to speak that fire would come shooting out. I ignored the way the feeling sparked a heat deep in my core, making me pulse in other places, too. I let him have his triumph before the truth spilled out of me, unedited and raw. "Fine. You're right. What I don't get is how you can be so right about that, and so fucking clueless about everything else!"
He stopped advancing on me, confusion marring his beautiful face. "Clueless about what? You being so hot to fuck someone else, you couldn't wait until the dust settled on us before you ran to that goofy-ass surfer douchebag?"
I growled in frustration, throwing my purse on a chair and pacing to the window before turning back to face him. "Why are you here, Truman? Is this what you want? Us screaming shit at each other, ripping new holes where there should be something solid?"
He blew out a breath before he laced his fingers behind his head and looked at the ceiling. I could see the effort it took to regain control, the deep breathing he had to do in order to speak. I was doing the same thing, only my deep breathing was an effort not to cry. If he'd come to hurt me, he'd succeeded, but I wouldn't let him know it.
Finally, his voice soft as he ran a hand through his hair, he looked at me. "I came to get you back. Jess. I'm doing a piss poor job of it, but that's why I'm here."
It was what I wanted to hear and dreaded hearing. I still loved him, maybe more than I ever had. Whatever passion we'd lost was right there between us again. I was wet and aching between my legs, my skin heated, my fingers twitching with the need to touch him. Anger only fueled my need to connect with him physically. It was the reason we were bad for each other. How could I be turned on and want to throttle him simultaneously?
"I miss you, too." I shouldn't have said it. It gave him the wrong message. But it was the truth, and our screaming had opened a door I didn't want to close. So I let it all out. "But it hurts too much to be with you. I can't be what you want."
He moved closer and I backed up, pressing myself against the sliding glass door behind me. He didn't care. He saw me trying to escape and he came at me anyway, until he was inches away, his breath feathering over my face, the heat of his body reaching toward my sensitive skin. "How did I hurt you, baby? Please tell me. I don't understand why you left. I'd cut back on the weed and drinking. After two years together, you owe me an explanation."
I opened my mouth to lie, to say something that wouldn't make me look so insecure and weak. I knew the truth would ruin his image of me. He narrowed his eyes, as though daring me to deceive him, and I paused before I swallowed the lump in my throat and told him everything.
"I'm fucked up. You think I'm this perfect...I don't know, like, angel or something, but you couldn't be more wrong. I'm scared all the time. Those episodes I was having didn't go away, they got worse and they came more often. Only I was scared to tell you because you were getting pissed at me for being so weak. I'm not this smart, confident girl you seem to think I am. I'm a mess. I can't be myself with you. I don't even know who I am anymore..." The tears flowed down my cheeks as I slid to the floor, my feet no longer able to hold me, and rested my forehead on my knees.
I expected to hear the door open and close, his frayed Chuck Taylors hitting the wood floors as he stomped away, disgusted with what I was showing him. Or maybe I thought he'd sit next to me and gently tell me to buck up, to handle it, so I could get back to normal and be his perfect Jessa. The only thing I didn't expect was what I got.
"I knew, baby. I wasn't pissed at you because of some weakness. I just wanted you to be fucking honest."
My head shot up and I found his eyes, soulful and sincere, trained on me with an intensity I'd never seen before.
"I poured my heart out to you Jessa, on a daily basis. This whole time we've been together, there was never a day I didn't tell you exactly what I was thinkin'. You go through these..." He shook his head, as though he'd joined me in being unable to find a word that described my episodes. "Whatever it is that's happening to you, and it's like I don't exist. I need you, baby. I need you to be healthy, because when you aren't I know it's probably me that's making you that way, and that sucks." He ran a hand through his hair and down over his eyes, looking toward the floor. "You shut me out so, yeah, it pissed me off. But, I'm sorry because I reacted like a dick. You didn't deserve that from me."
My forehead found my knees again, my head feeling too heavy for my neck to hold it up. He ran his fingers through my hair as it trailed down my back. Over and over, from roots to ends. It had always soothed me. He knew all of those little details about me; how I liked to be touched, what I needed from him. Why had I thought I could keep the big stuff a secret?
"You're right about one thing."
I tilted my head to look at him, keeping my forehead on my arms.
"I do think you're an angel. Not perfect, but you're my angel, darlin'. You're my reason for living. You save me every day, just by being who you are. All I need to do is look at you, hear your voice, and my day is brighter. I've stopped with the weed. I still drink, but not as much as I was. I don't want that shit. I've known for a long time you're perfect for me, and that's more than enough."
I crumpled as a new set of tears escaped. I hadn't realized how much I needed him to say the words. Praise from Tru did as much for me as it did for him. After all we'd been through, his love and acceptance of me, the fact he lived and breathed me, fed something inside. I'd missed it from him. He was the only one who could give me what I needed.
He pulled me toward him, pressing my face into his neck and I cried until I couldn't anymore. As my feelings drained away, I took a few big breaths. His scent was on my tongue; clean, sweaty, Truman.
I shook my head, pulling back and wiped under my eyes. Reconciling the man next to me with the man who'd stood beside his bed and looked me over like I was a used car was impossible. "I don't want you to be with me out of pity or obligation. It's not like we're married. I know you love me, Truman, but I understand that all of this is a huge attraction killer."
His eyebrows drew together in stunned confusion as he shook his head. "Baby, I'm twenty-two years old and I have wet dreams about the curve of your neck, the feel of your skin under my hands."
My mouth fell open, but no words came.
He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. "I get hard thinking about how much I love kissing these full, sexy lips. My God, when I think about your pussy and how good it feels to sink inside you, I can almost make myself come without a stroke from my own hand. So, where in the hell did you get the message I'm not attracted to you?"
I told him what he'd said, revisiting that ugly scene in his bedroom, despite the fact it caused fresh waves of humiliation. When I finished, he stood abruptly and paced away. I could've bounced a quarter off the muscles in his back, he was so tense.
When he turned around, unshed tears made his eyes shine. "Jesus Christ." He held his hands out to me and pulled me up to standing. "I swear to God I don't remember saying that. I would never say that to you."
I dropped his hands. "You did. I'm not making it up. I didn't misinterpret you, either. Those were your exact words. 'If you lost ten pounds, you'd be gorgeous.'"
He winced at the reminder. "I'm not saying you're lying, baby. I'm saying I don't remember it. I'm saying I was stoned out of my gourd and said some shit I had no business saying, not to mention the fact that I don't feel that way about your body. I've never felt that way about your body."
I kept my expression shuttered. I didn't know what to believe.
He covered his eyes, scrubbed his face and cursed under his breath. "Goddammit. I royally fucked up with you, didn't I?"
I fought the need to comfort him. I wanted to so badly, but trying to make him feel better when he'd wounded me was exactly the thing that was making me sick. Making us sick. If I were drawn into our dynamic again, we wouldn't have a chance.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe we shouldn't be together. I'm not going to keep hurting you." He ran a hand down my arm, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of goose bumps. "I want you back more than my next breath, but if it's going to tear you down, then I'll let you go. I'll do that for you, Jess; I love you so much. It's gonna kill me, but I'll do it."
I sighed. There was no relief, only deep sadness. I'd wanted him to come to this conclusion, hadn't I? To say that very thing to me and walk out of my life. I thought I'd feel better when it happened. Instead I was emptier than ever. I nodded, stepping back and turning away from him to look out the window. Just as I'm realizing how much I want you back, you're ready to let me go.
I was turned around so quickly, my head jerked back on my shoulders, and I gasped. Tru's lips covered my open mouth. His tongue took advantage of my surprise, thrusting past my teeth and licking, dominating me until I sagged against him. My hands snaked up his chest, feeling every inch of hard muscle before threading over his broad shoulders. He dug his hands into my hair and tugged, forcing our mouths apart. It took me a moment to open my eyes, and when I did I was met with a stare so intense it was as if he could see straight into my soul.
His voice was raspy with need as he kept my head captive, forcing me to look at him. "I said I would let you go, but make no mistake, baby, I'm not ready to let you go. I never will be."
I'd voiced my thoughts aloud as I faced the window. When he pressed his lips to mine again, I was glad I'd let them slip. Tru kissed me until I was writhing against him, practically crawling up his body in an attempt to get closer.
As much as he'd said he missed me, my own hunger for him was worse. He picked me up and guided my legs to wrap around him as he started to walk.
"Where the fuck is the bedroom in this place?" He said it against my lips.
I laughed as I pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the left." I covered his mouth with mine, our tongues thrusting and retreating in time with each other, mimicking what we wanted to do. As he walked I shed my shirt, then my bra. He latched onto a nipple as he reached the bed, letting it pop out of his mouth when he tossed me backwards onto the mattress. Then he covered me with his body and sucked my breast back between warm, wet lips.
I whimpered with need, tugging at the button of his shorts before unzipping and plunging my hand beneath his boxers. He groaned, long and low as I gripped him, pulling and pushing, lubricating my hand on the copious pre-cum leaking out of the tip. I pushed his shorts over his hips and felt him move as he toed off his shoes.
He kissed a trail down the center of my torso before breaking off to the side to place little bites along my ribs, licking his way back to a nipple for long minutes of gentle biting and sucking before working his mouth down again. When he finally reached the waist of my denim shorts, my body was shaking with need. He undid the snap and yanked at the zipper, unfolding the flaps of my waistband, but he didn't take them off.
Instead, he pressed his lips reverently to my belly, right above my mound, moving from left to right and back again as he bit a path between my hip bones. It was a sensitive area for me, sending little zings of pleasure straight to my clit. I moaned in frustration and ecstasy, as he tortured me with his mouth.
I didn't tell him to move on. I didn't say anything at all. Everything about how he'd taken control of the kiss told me he wasn't open to suggestions. I loved that about him. As much as he loved hearing me tell him what I wanted him to do to me, there were times, like now, he didn't welcome my input. He was in charge of my pleasure. All I needed to know was he'd get me there.
Finally he made a gruff sound in the back of his throat, his own impatience coming through. He pulled my shorts and panties off at once, tossing them behind him before he spread my legs with his shoulders. I watched as he looked at my pussy, his eyes dilating, his expression fierce.
I arched my back, digging my head into the pillows in anticipation of his mouth on me. I didn't have the experience to prove it, with Tru being my first lover in every way that mattered, but I knew he had to be above average in this department. He knew my body better than I did, knew when to apply pressure, when to back off, how to make me come quickly or to make it last. My girlfriends had complained about boyfriends never figuring out those simple things about them.
When several seconds passed and I didn't feel anything I looked down at his face between my legs. His expression was pained as he met my gaze, a combination of nearly uncontrollable lust and regret. I propped myself up on my elbows.
"What's wrong?"
Tru's mouth was so close I could feel his exhale as it travelled across my hot, wet core. I shuddered at the sensation. The sight of him there, looking at me like he was starving and I was his first meal in a year, was almost enough to make me come on the spot.
He pulled back, only an inch. "I need to know."
I waited. When nothing more came, I sighed and asked, "What, babe? What do you need to know?" I wanted him to take his perfect mouth and warm, wet tongue and put both on me, as soon as possible.
"Whatever you tell me, it won't make any fucking difference. You and me, we're together again, and nothing's going to keep me from you, OK? But I can't do this until I know the truth."
I let my head fall back as I groaned, snapping it back up quickly. "Baby, I love you, but what the fuck are you talking about, and why aren't you eating the shit out of me right now?"
I watched as he fought a smile for a moment, before his face became somber again.
"Did you fuck him? Did you let that surfer boy asswipe put his hands and mouth on you? Tell me the truth Jessa, right here, right now. After this moment, I swear we won't talk about it again."
I could see the war happening inside of him. He wanted the truth but was afraid of what he'd hear. He'd always told me I was his. He didn't consider my technical loss of virginity to my high school boyfriend "real" sex. He took pride in the fact he'd been my only real lover, that he'd given me every sexual orgasm I'd had.
I cupped his cheek with my hand and felt him press his face against it. "No, honey. You're still the only one who's ever had me."
He'd told me it would be OK if I had, but the relief on his face said differently. He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh before he smiled at me. "I love you."
He dipped his head low and licked a trail through my cleft, sending me arching off the bed, a grin on my lips. I had Tru back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Terminal
Present~
Winter barbecues were siblings only, no spouses or kids allowed. There wasn't enough room for all of us as adults, much less our extended families. Our annual cookout at Mom's house had been fun, despite February's near-freezing temps. My siblings and I painted a ridiculous picture, huddled around the grill for warmth, bundled up in scarves and fingerless gloves.
It'd taken forever to cook the meat, but we didn't care. I spent the time catching up with everyone
and joking around, steadfastly avoiding the usual questions about when Nick and I were going to "start trying." The twins, now in their late twenties, had reverted back to being brats and eaten most of the first batch of s'mores I'd thrown on the platter.
Simone had stayed an extra day to help me clean up and get everything back in order. She'd driven back to Seattle that morning while I finished wiping down the last bathroom. Mom wasn't getting any younger, and having all of us back had left its mark. The house had been a disaster, and I wondered how we, as grown adults, could be messier than we were as kids.
I sat on the front porch swing, wrapped in an afghan I'd snagged off of the couch, and enjoyed the quiet. As I gazed out across the lawn to the park across the street, my eyes grew so heavy I almost missed the steady vibration of my phone in my back pocket. I sat up and rubbed my face before swiping my thumb across the screen.
"Hey Leo, how's it hanging?"
"Jess, I'm doing good, thanks." Leo's distracted voice reverberated through the line. His breath came in short pants, as though he were moving around a room. "Saw your Facebook post yesterday, you still here in town?"
I smiled at the memory of how long it'd taken to get everyone lined up and shut up, so we could get a decent family picture.
"Yeah, I'm here until tomorrow."
"Good...good. Listen, I'm wondering if you could stop by Tru's and check on him. He hasn't been returning my calls. I'm in the studio, recording, so I can't get away today, but I want to make sure he's all right."
I sat up, my spine tingling. "Are you sure he's not just busy, or out of town or something?"
Leo let out a weak chuckle. "He's not much of a traveler, and he's never taken so long to call me back. Plus, he's been...down. I just want to make sure he's OK."
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