We Were Memories

by Brandi Aga

  We pull in the driveway, and a dark mahogany, double-bay garage opens, revealing a line of three black bikes. I don’t know much about motorcycles, but they look nice. Really freaking nice. Roman is always riding his bike, so I make a mental note to ask if he’ll take me for a ride later.

  There’s wood and metal everywhere. Metal diamond plating coats the surface of the cabinets, and black matte toolboxes are built into the wall. There’s so much testosterone in here, I get shivers. I want to touch everything. I know he owns his own shop building custom bikes. I just never pictured anything like this at his home. My thighs clench together at the thought of watching him work in here in his downtime. Sweaty and dirty, his tattooed fingers making all the magic happen.

  He pulls me through the door, and all I can do is gawk at the floor-to-ceiling windows. They must be at least twenty feet high. I can tell it’s a split-level home, but it’s hard to see much else with just the dim light outside coming in through the glass.

  Roman licks his bottom lip and stares at me with dark intent all over his face. “I have a guest bedroom, several actually, but I also have a big bed, and I still want you in it next to me.” He has me pinned against the door, staring down at me with dark, hungry eyes. “Just say the word if you don’t feel comfortable. I need words here, babe.”

  Until that moment, I didn’t realize I haven’t spoken out loud since we walked in. His hands squeeze my hips, and that look he’s giving me renders me speechless. My inner goddess is running her mouth, telling me to jump his bones. For once, I don’t shut her up. “I want you.” I barely pant out the words. “I want you, Roman.”

  “Fuck going to bed then. I can’t wait any longer, darlin’.” He picks me up and walks me over to the couch before shoving my shorts down and pushing me down in the curve of the sectional. It’s soft and beautiful, and it smells like him. Roman gets down on his knees in between my legs, raising my shirt up and exposing my bra, and pulls the cups down. “Perfect tits,” he says, before lavishing kisses over them and working his way down to my panties. He pulls them aside and dips his middle finger inside. “Pretty pussy, too. Perfect everything.”

  His words have me bowing up off the couch, and I feel so exposed, but I don’t even care. He puts two fingers inside me and his tongue on my clit. It feels like an out-of-body experience, and my vision goes blurry. His beard tickles my leg, causing me to giggle out loud and making me feel like a sex-crazed maniac. He grins up at me, never faltering with his tongue.

  He pulls back and sits on his heels. “Get down here, on your stomach.” I do as I’m told and lie down on the floor. Roman pulls my ass up into the air and smacks it hard. “You want my cock?”

  “Yes. God, yes.” I push my ass back into him, all but begging for it.

  “My dirty girl.” He undoes his jeans and pushes into me slowly at first, stretching me, quickening the pace as I adjust. He takes his fingers he had inside me and shoves them in my mouth. I taste myself on them, and it turns me on.

  I’m getting carpet burn on my face, but I’d do just about anything for this man right now. The past months of built-up sexual tension is coming out right here on this floor. I feel like I’ve known him a lifetime, and that right there is enough for me to be so intimate.

  I don’t care that we’ve only talked on the phone.

  I don’t care that we’ve never seen each other in person till today.

  I don’t care about any of it. None of that matters. I just want him.

  He lifts my leg up and puts it on the couch, hitting that spot just right, and I know I’m a goner. He must feel me tightening around him, because as soon as I go, he does too.

  We lie there tangled together a minute longer, sweating it out.

  “Fuck, if I knew it was gonna be that good, I’d have fucked you at the airport.”

  I smack him playfully, and he laughs, rolling over and taking me with him, squeezing my ass.

  Alarm bells go off in my head.

  I haven’t been with another man in so long, but I can’t think about that right now. I’m here, and this is where I want to be. Need to be. Roman wants me here too. “Hey, thanks for buying my plane ticket. You didn’t have to do that.”

  He grins. “Anytime, darlin’. And I did have to. You think I’d ask you here and make you pay for it, you got another thing comin’. Let’s go to bed.” He stands up and holds an arm out to help me up off the floor.

  I’m exhausted from work and flying. Maybe from the sex too. My adrenaline is wearing off, and I need a bed. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  He points to a door on the far side of the bedroom. I turn my phone back on, and texts from Ryan buzz through one after the other. Of course, he wants to talk now.

  Ryan: You home from work?

  Ryan: Call me.

  Ryan: Well, your phone is going straight to vm. Going to bed soon. Love you.

  Me: Sorry, phone was dead. Fell asleep. Don’t feel good, going back to bed. Call me tomorrow.

  I send it and turn my phone back off.

  I step out of the bathroom just as Roman stalks around the bed like a kid on Christmas morning. “Come here, babe.” We climb into bed together, and I lie in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, I’m falling asleep with a huge smile on my face. I’m in a hell of a lot more trouble than I ever thought.

  It’s my last full day here before my flight home, and Roman promised me a bike ride. Since I’ve never ridden before, I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous. He spent a good ten minutes before he even fired it up telling me all about it. It’s an all-black, murdered out Harley Dyna Fat Bob, or something like that. It was hard to understand all that bike lingo while he was standing there looking so delicious.

  “Relax, babe. You’re safe with me. Lift your leg over and put your arms around me. I won’t let you go anywhere.” He gets on and straddles the seat so there’s room for me. I sling my leg over like he did and wrap my arms around him when he sits. We cruise slowly at first, down the driveway and out on the main highway, picking up speed the longer we ride. He might think I don’t notice, but oh, I so do, although my death grip probably gives me away.

  We’ve been riding for a while when we finally veer off the highway. California is breathtakingly beautiful. The beaches and the trees are way different than in Texas. Being on the back of his bike, the wind in my hair, the sunshine on my face, it’s relaxing and freeing. This is exactly what I needed. I might be scared to death still, but I get why people like to do this.

  We pull over and park at the ferry that leads us to the pier and down to the beach.

  “Put your things in here. I’ll lock it up,” he says, pointing to his bag on the side of the bike. I take my shirt and shorts off, stuffing my shorts in his bag, and he does the same. Roman lets out a long breath. “Fuck me, that should be illegal.” I keep my T-shirt out just in case I need it later.

  “You like?” I do a little twirl, teasing him. I dug out the hottest bathing suit I could find in my closet just for him. He’s right, it should be illegal. There’s not much to it. The top is white with a sheer design and the bottoms are double strapped, but instead of fabric, it’s little gold studs.

  Roman looks me up and down and groans. “You kill me.” He’s got that look in his eyes again, like he could eat me alive right here on this dock. “Come on, dirty girl,” he says, shaking his head, clearly amused at my attempt to impress him. It’s hard to believe what this man does to me, and what I obviously do to him.

  We walk a way down to the ferry, and it feels good, like I’ve known him a lot longer than our reality. It feels like years, not months.

  The ferry docks and Roman leads us down to the water. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the ocean.”

  He leans down and splashes water in my direction. “I wanna see you all wet,” he says. The old me would have screamed about my hair getting wet or my tan streaking, but Roman, he brings this new person out of me—this girl who’s been begging to break
free of things that don’t really matter and just live life. He pulls me along with him, wading into the water. It’s cold, way too cold, but we’re doing it anyway. The waves crash into my legs, making it difficult to walk. When we get far enough out, he pulls me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him, and he holds us both up, floating on the water. He presses short, slow kisses along my collarbone, whispering, “Beautiful girl.” Our foreheads touch and our breathing is slightly elevated, feeding off the other. He’s the beautiful one, water dripping off his hair and the sun beaming down on his tattooed skin.

  “I don’t want to leave tomorrow. I could seriously stay here forever,” I say, tipping my head back, getting my hair wet. The sound of the waves and the sunshine are like something out of a movie scene. My heart starts to do that thing it does, that pitter patter, at the severity of the words I just said. I can’t stay. I know I can’t stay.

  “So, don’t go. Stay. My bed likes you keeping it warm in the mornings.” I know he’s feeling this too; I can hear it in his voice.

  “I can’t,” I whisper.

  A wave comes crashing around us and knocks into Roman, making him stumble forward slightly, but his hold on me doesn’t falter. A guy in a wetsuit paddles by on his surfboard and says something about the water and what a pretty day it is, but I don’t catch the rest because my heart’s still in my throat. The interruption breaks some of the tension in the air between us. When the man turns around and continues on, Roman starts toward shore.

  “You hungry? There’s an awesome burger joint up on the pier. Me and the guys always eat there.”

  “I’m starving. All the sex and adventures you put me through, a girl’s gotta eat.” Our laughter is genuine, and it feels good.

  We eat our burgers with a root beer float and talk. It’s not as heavy as it was down at the beach, which I’m thankful for. I put my T-shirt back on over my bikini, and Roman is rather amused with it. It’s one of my favorites. I’ve washed it so many times, it’s starting to fade. I should probably throw it away, but Erin gave it to me when I started nursing school, and I don’t have the heart to get rid of it. It says: Top 10 reasons to love a nurse, with #1 being Defibrillation I can thrill with one touch, #2 I know the proper way to tie you to a bed, and #3 Hit the right button & I’ll come quickly. Roman says I have to prove all ten reasons.

  The rest of our day is spent walking around the shops on the pier. It’s so pretty when the sun starts to set and all the lights come on. We ride the ferry back to the bike and put the rest of our clothes back on before heading toward the highway. I wrap my hands around him and hold on, but it’s not long before my palm travels to the crotch of his jeans. He squeezes my leg and pulls off on a side road in the gravel. Roman turns the bike off and stands up. “Hop off, babe.”

  “What are we doing?” I ask, looking both ways up and down the dark, secluded highway. There’s nothing out here. I let out a yelp as he flips me around, my back to his front. He wraps a hand around my throat, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make me wet. Putting his mouth up next to my ear, he says, “My dirty girl. Been teasin’ my cock for the past twenty-five miles. Can you feel how hard I am?” Roman kicks my feet apart with his boot and pushes up against me. I can feel his hardness through his clothes. “That’s all you.”

  God. This man. The things he does to me. I’m in the middle of nowhere—hell, I’m not even sure what city we’re in—pushing my shorts down so he can fuck me over his bike. I hear his belt rattle, and my heart starts beating faster for what’s coming.

  “This is gonna be quick. I need to be in you.”

  Ten minutes later, he’s tucking himself back in his jeans and tossing me a T-shirt to clean myself up with. He stands over the bike and starts it up. My legs are jelly, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it the rest of the way back to his house. I guess I’ll have to hold on extra tight for good measure.

  The next morning, I’m up and at it early, getting all my bags packed to go home. Home. It was a short trip this visit, but I didn’t know what I was getting myself into with this being our first time to actually be together. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, so I booked an early flight out in case things were awkward. Now, I wish I didn’t have to go.

  I’ve checked my phone and tried to call Ryan. He was busy and not able to talk, so I sent him a text letting him know I’d talk to him later tonight, that way he won’t try to reach me and not be able to get me while I’m in the air. He’s not home yet either, so he won’t even miss me.

  Roman walks up behind me and puts his arms around me, making me jump. “You ready? You know you can stay.”

  “As tempting as you are, I really need to go home. I have to work. Plus, Cloud gets hangry when her food bowl isn’t filled to the top. I need to be there.”

  “You kill me.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  He kisses me long and slow. If we stand here any longer, it’s going to turn into something more, and I don’t want to miss my flight. “We need to get going.” He pulls away with a frown. It’s cute, seeing this big, badass man pout.

  We’re back where we started at the airport, and I’ve got this feeling in the pit of my stomach—the same one I get when Ryan leaves, except this feels heavier, more intense.

  “You better come back to me soon. I just got you. I want more of this.” He’s looking me dead in the eye, and it’s hard to hold his gaze. So much uncertainty lies in my heart right now, and I’m afraid he’ll see it. He’s still pouting when I promise him I’ll be back. I don’t know why I say it. Something inside of me just needs him to hear it.

  It’s a good thing I came home when I did. Ryan came home the very next day to “surprise” me. He’s been working in the office in town since then, and to be honest, it’s a little weird. I don’t know if it’s because of the time I spent with Roman, which opened my eyes, or what, but I just feel like I’m on my last leg. I’m mentally exhausted, and the lies are catching up to me.

  “Don’t get comfortable,” Ryan says. “Let’s go out tonight.”

  “What?” I want to ask why since we haven’t gone anywhere or done anything fun together in the past year. Hell, it may even be longer than that, but I don’t say anything. I hold it in.

  “Let’s go try out that new bar downtown. A couple guys from the office are taking their wives tonight. Some grand opening with a free drink special going on.”

  “Is this a work event?”

  “No, not at all. I just thought you might like to do something since I’ve been gone.”

  “Okay, I guess we can go, but I can’t drink much. I’m working in the morning.”

  When we first got together, Ryan and I spent most of our time camping, floating the river, in the gym—anything active. We could always find the time to be up to something. He used to have the need to be active and on the go 24/7, and now since that need has been replaced with work, going out together is a privilege. This bar scene though, it’s just weird.

  I haven’t been to a real bar in a long time, especially not one like this. The music is beating so hard I can feel it in my chest. It’s dark with black lights everywhere except around the bar.

  This is interesting. And so not Ryan.

  “You want a drink?” Ryan shouts next to my ear so I can hear him over Kesha blaring through the speakers.

  I stand up on my tippy toes and yell back, “Just one beer!”

  He nods in acknowledgment and heads toward the bar. I recognize his coworkers already sitting, and he takes a seat next to them. I wander around, swaying to the beat. A guy brushes into me by accident and smiles. I push my way through the crowd over to Ryan and stand next to him, all the barstools are taken. They’re talking work lingo and numbers that I don’t understand. It’s hard to hear over the music, and really, I don’t even care what they’re saying. “Hey, where’s my beer?” I ask, interrupting.

  “Here, drink mine, Ley.” Ryan hands me his beer. I’m confused. Did he not get me one too? Inste
ad of making a scene, I just take it and drink while they carry on the rest of their conversation. I don’t get why I’m here. It doesn’t look like anyone else brought their wives, or else they’re off dancing somewhere. Everyone around me is having a good time, while I stand here, feeling like a tagalong.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I say, with a tap on his arm, letting him know I’ll be right back.

  As I stand at the bathroom sink, I look at the girl in the mirror, and I don’t know who she is. The young, smart, innocent girl is long gone. In her place is a lost, lonely little liar—lying to herself and everyone else. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.

  I dig around in my purse for my phone. I just want to talk to Roman, lie in his bed, and forget all my problems. The beach wouldn’t be half bad either.

  Me: You busy?

  A couple minutes later, his name buzzes across the screen. It’s not lost on me that a weight is instantly lifted off my shoulders. I pick a stall and sit on the toilet lid since there’s no point in going back out there right now anyway.

  “What’s up, beautiful?”

  I can hear machines in the background, and my heart swells. I know he’s working late. Probably dirty, in a wife beater, holey jeans, and work boots. “I just needed to hear your voice. Miss you big,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. I’m a lightweight. I can feel what little beer I did drink running through me.

  It gets quiet in the background, and I can hear him better now. “You know what would be perfect?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “You, in my shop, naked, on my lap.” I can’t help but smile. He gets me out of my funk without even trying.

  “Put that on our to-do list for next time.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  The bathroom door opens, and a herd of drunk women pour in. It’s noticeably louder, so I let Roman get back to his work and face the music. I can’t hide out in here all night.