Infinity: Based on a True Story

by Shanora Williams

  “I want to,” I assured him. “I mean at first I didn’t but… shit, Max. How can I resist?” I looked him over, the hills and curves of his body making my pulse accelerate. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be just once.”

  “How many times, then?” He sat forward, smirking.

  “I have no clue,” I breathed, pressing my forehead to his. “But I won’t keep count if you don’t.”

  “So this… it’ll just be a fling? Nothing more?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Not really.”

  I sat back. “It can be whatever we make it.” But then another thought occurred. “Or how about we just go with the flow and whatever happens, happens?”

  He nods, bringing me closer, his palms splaying on my hips. “That sounds good.”

  “So we can go back to what we were doing before?” I questioned. God, I sounded so desperate.

  “I’ll give it to you,” he started, running the tip of his nose up the crook of my neck, placing a tiny bite on my shoulder. I got excited again, ready to finish what we started. “But not tonight, Shakes.”

  His head moved down, those warm lips of his gradually wrapping around my taut nipple, his teeth grazing the tip of it. I moaned as he parted his mouth to swirl his tongue around it, my sex clenching.

  “What do I get tonight then?” I asked, adjusting my hips as I moved forward on his lap.

  In an instant, Max grabbed my wrists and flipped me onto my back, pinning my hands above me. I yelped as he hungrily sucked on my exposed breasts, just enough for me to feel how serious he was in this moment.

  My back arched and he seized the opportunity, clasping the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. When they were off, he gradually started to descend, planting kisses on my stomach, above my navel and then below it, until he was right there. Right above my sacred area. Right fucking there… where I needed him to be.

  His mouth hovered above me, so close, the heat of his breath unbearable. I writhed as his tongue traced the outside of my slit. A soft cry tumbled out as his tongue pressed between the folds and landed right on my delicate nub.

  My back arched again, but he whispered, “Be still for me, baby. You’ll get this, but nothing more tonight.”

  “Why can’t I have more?” I asked breathily.

  “Because,”—he pulled his hands down to spread my legs apart. Resting the bottoms of my thighs on his shoulders, he centered his face between them and continued with, “You aren’t ready for me just yet. I have to get you there. I have to make sure that when it finally happens, you’re ready. I can tell it’s been a while since you’ve had some. Gotta make sure I’m well worth the wait.”

  He grinned between my legs and in no time he was eating me like I was the best thing he ever tasted, his tongue running up and down, sensually toying with my clit, rubbing and stroking. His finger glided into my entrance, bringing me even higher, causing my back to curve and my eyes to seal tight.

  “Oh, Max,” I cried softly, grazing my fingertips across his soft hair.

  He groaned, his hands clutching my hips, face burying deeper between my folds. He wanted me to release and I was close. My legs vibrated, shaking violently. My heart raced in my chest as I felt myself reaching the brink.

  I panted, finding it so unbelievable that he had me. He had all of me—could do whatever he wanted in this exact moment.

  I was vulnerable to Maximilian, his for the taking. Not that I was bothered by that. In fact, I loved knowing it. I felt like a queen, on top of the world. On top of King Max.

  Soon, my thoughts came to a hush, and it arrived. I came, back arching, crying out so hard and loud there was a banging on the wall across from us.

  I gasped, nearly breathless as my body tried to settle. “Did someone just bang on the wall?”

  When Max lowered my hips and sat up, glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Oh. Don’t worry about that. It’s Francine. She’s just a little jealous since I don’t do cougars.”

  My eyes widened. “She wants you to fuck her?”

  He stood up, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

  My lips pressed together as I drew my legs in. “Don’t be so full of yourself, playboy.”

  “Can’t help it,” he laughed, holding his hands out and gesturing to me as he perched on his knees. “Shannon Hales is sitting on my bed completely naked and I just made her cum all over my mouth—and let’s not forget to mention how fucking divine she tasted.”

  His palms pressed on the bed and he leaned forward, planting a deep, warm kiss on my now rosy cheeks. Our mouths connected next and I shuddered as he snuck a finger through the damp lips between my legs. I clenched, sighing as his mouth moved from mine to the crook of my neck.

  Tipping his head, he smoothly whispered, “You still think you’re ready for me, Shannon?”

  “I’m not intimidated.”

  “A girl like you shouldn’t be…”

  “So why can’t we right now?” I whispered in his ear.

  “Because,” he slid his finger up and down again then delved it deep inside me, bringing the wetness back up to my swollen nub, “I want to watch you beg me for it.”

  “I don’t beg.”

  “Says the woman who will soon end up on her knees in front of me, pleading with that pretty, little mouth of hers.”

  Bringing the finger he used to rub me, he slid it across my bottom lip before bringing it to his mouth and sucking away the juices. His eyes focused on mine, pink lips enveloping the taste of me.

  That smoldering look in his brown eyes, the nearness, and knowing deep down that I would surely be begging for him to be inside me, drove my lady parts wild.

  I clenched again as he pushed up and shifted between my legs, thrusting his large, solid cock on my belly. We were nose to nose now.

  “I won’t beg,” I murmured. I was lying to myself. Begging for Maximilian Grant to fuck me didn’t seem so bad. Submitting myself to him, allowing him to have his way with me was a dream for most women.

  “You have a lot to learn, Shakes.”

  “Hmm. Well I guess you have a lot to teach your Little Shakes then, huh, Maximilian?”

  That brought a genuine laugh out of him. While smothering my neck with delightful caresses from his lips, he quietly whispered, “I guess so, baby.”

  And I oozed inside, growing even wetter for this charming, confident man.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present

  “Sonny called this morning.” John’s deep, tired voice rises, taking my attention away from the words in my romance novel.

  “She did?” I drop the book, snatching up my cellphone. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Because it’s the first time you’ve been okay in a while. And earlier you were resting. She understands.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. She wants you to hear from her personally. She sounded excited.”

  I pick up my phone and scroll through my list of favorites, calling her right away. She answers on the second ring, her voice chipper. “Shanny!”

  “Sonny!” I sing.

  “Guess what!?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m done with exams and Danny will be in Louisville for the next week and a half so I’m coming to Charlotte!”

  “What?!” I gasp. “Seriously? That’s good! You need to come. I fucking miss you.”

  “And you know I miss you.” She breaks away, saying something to someone in the background before addressing me again. “So, listen, I’m packing now and should be on the road within the hour. I promise to sneak you lots of chocolate.” She whispers the last sentence, knowing John is around and most likely trying to hear everything she’s saying.

  I laugh. “All right. I’ll see you soon.”

  I hang up and John looks at me, his eyes inquisitive. “What was that about?”

  “She’s coming to Charlotte.”

  “Oh.” He fidgets in his chair, scratc
hing the top of his head. “You think that’s a good idea right now?”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, ‘cause I know Sonny stresses you out a lot sometimes. She has no filter. You two argue about the silliest things. The last thing you need is stress… and her sneaking you chocolate. Dr. David said to avoid sweets if you can.”

  “John,” I laugh dryly. “Are you serious right now? Why were you listening so hard? She literally whispered the chocolate thing.”

  “I’m just looking out for your best interests, babe. That’s all.” He raises his hands in the air, pleading innocence.

  I look away from him, blowing out a sigh as I focus on my lap. “Whether she stresses me out or not, I need her right now.”

  “And I understand that.”

  “You can’t be selfish with me, Johnny.”

  “I’m not.” He moves closer, holding my hand. “I just want what’s best. I need you to be okay. To hang in there.”

  “I’m fine,” I insist. “I swear.”

  He squeezes my hand, lips pressing.

  Silence showers down on us, and I sigh again, slowly pulling my hand away.

  “Who is Max?” He asks the question as if he’s been waiting hours to—like it’s heavy on his mind and he’s finally getting it out there.

  My heart slams in my chest—actually, I think it may have skipped two beats. That name is one that should never come out of John’s mouth. He knows nothing about Max. Nothing about what he was to me.

  “I saw him say that he was coming by?” John goes on, trying to pretend he’s just curious but he’s clearly bothered.

  “Max is a friend. Someone I knew a long time ago. He knows I’m sick.”

  “Have I ever met him?”

  “No. I knew him years ago.” I wave a hand, hoping to dismiss the subject and ease his mind.

  “Oh.” He looks down at the hand he has resting on the bed.

  “You know what I want,” I say rapidly, changing the subject.

  “What’s that?”

  “To go home. Back to our cozy, quiet home.”

  John’s face tightens and his eyebrows draw together. “Home? Now?”

  “Yeah. I just think I should be home right now. You know, comfortable?” I smile a little, looking around the room. “I don’t feel comfortable here. I feel trapped, like a prisoner. Plus, Dr. David even said I seem to be getting better now.”

  “But it’s safer here. More convenient for you. You have the best doctor in town. You get the best care. You love Leah—she’s your favorite nurse.”

  “Yes, all of that is true, but nothing beats being at home, Johnny.”

  “No, Shannon.” John’s voice is firm as he sits back and folds his arms. “No. We won’t have this discussion. You’re too sick. Attempting to even transport you from the hospital to our home is a risk.” Why does he have to be so damn dramatic?

  “For goodness sake, John, stop treating me like I’m your child!” My voice is louder, the anger rising to the surface. “I am your wife, John. Not your baby. Not your daughter. Your wife. Don’t you understand that? You should be supporting me, not scolding me.”

  “I know you’re my wife, Shannon, but as your husband I need to remind you of what’s best. Being here is best. Being here, surrounded by people that can help you, is best. I feel much better knowing you’re here during the times that I can’t be around.”

  “But you fail to realize that it’s not about you. And you also fail to realize that these people—these doctors that you are treating like gods—cannot bring back the dead. When I die, they won’t be able to revive me. They won’t be able to do jack-shit.” My eyes fill with tears, along with John’s. It’s not from sadness or pain. It’s anger. Raw, heart-shattering anger.

  He stands up, huffing and puffing, pacing back and forth and muttering under his breath. Pressing my back to the bed, I shut my eyes and fight the tears. I fail miserably.

  “I just… I mean, I don’t know what to do here, Shannon,” he sighs.

  “Just forget it,” I mutter, swiping my face roughly. “Let’s just pretend I never brought it up, okay? I don’t want to argue. Not right now. Not with you.” John stops pacing to look at me. His blue eyes immediately fill with regret, his body no longer tense. I keep my head down, whispering for him to turn the lights off. I no longer want to be looked at. Plus, it’s getting late. The sun is just setting but my blinds are closed. It’s dark enough for me.

  “Babe, come on,” he groans.

  “The lights. Please.”

  He’s hesitant, but with a heavy sigh he walks away, flipping the switch. I relax as that comforting darkness fills the room. I can see John standing in his white T-shirt. I can also see his eyes, and everything else, but at least it’s not every single detail.

  John blows out a breath as I turn on my side and pull the blanket over me. The machine beeps a little faster before settling at a steady rhythm again. Several minutes pass before I feel John’s hand on the small of my back, rubbing in slow circles.

  “Shannon,” he whispers, his voice faint and remorseful.

  I don’t respond. The tears stream, dampening the pillow my head rests on.

  “Baby, please tell me what to do here… please tell me what you want.” His voice cracks, broadening the pain I feel deep in my chest.

  “I already told you what I want.” My voice is thick. Upset.

  “Something realistic.”

  I swipe at my eyes with the little energy I have and sit up, turning towards him. “Fine. You want realistic? I’ll be real with you right now.” He sits back, eyes wide and stunned as they focus on mine. “I don’t want to die in this place, Jonathan. I don’t want to spend my final days on this rock hard bed, staring up at the white ceiling or at the mirror across from me, contemplating my life and all I should have done differently. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to be on three fucking bags of OPX a day. I don’t want to keep doing this to myself—to us—going through the same routine every single day.

  “I just want to spend the final days of my life doing things that I love, eating foods I enjoy, having my favorite people and things around me. I deserve that. I don’t deserve to be on this bed with this fucking tube in my nose and needles in my arms. I don’t deserve not to be able to stand and to kiss you. To cuddle with you in our fucking bed.”

  I stroke his cheek, using the pad of my thumb to swipe his stray tears away. “I don’t deserve to be here… don’t you see that?” I whisper. “Whenever it’s meant for me to be gone, I’ll be gone. But I hate that I have to be restrained—trapped in this cold, depressing hospital because you think it’s best for me. Maybe, for once, I want what I think is best for me. Maybe you should take that into consideration. I am your wife, John. Your wife. For once, can you please just… support me? Listen to me. I’m calling out to you but you aren’t even listening.”

  He’s speechless as our eyes remain locked. Deep within his, I can tell he wants to say so much, but is unsure of how to go about it. Instead of speaking, he stands up and sits on the edge of the bed, holding me but not too tightly.

  I miss his tight hugs. His warm embrace. I miss the carefree John. The one that didn’t worry so much about my health and what I could handle. I miss us, and it’s sad to see it all going down the drain because of a stupid disease that will never go away.

  We fight so much, argue over the littlest things.

  We know we deserve more, but how do we get it when our destiny has already been written?

  “I hear you, baby,” he whispers in my hair. “I hear you and I understand.” He tips my chin, kissing my lips gently. Oh, how I’ve missed his touch, his mouth on mine, greedy and soft.

  I press into his caress, holding him around the waist. My tongue begins to part his lips but he stops me, head shaking. “We’d better not,” he murmurs.

  “I miss it,” I whisper. “Kissing you. Being us.”

  “I miss it too, trust me.” He plants his lip
s on the top of my forehead and stands. Defeated, I slouch back, staring ahead. “Get some rest,” he tells me, sitting on the chair.

  But I don’t need it. I am a little tired, but I slept for nearly twelve hours straight. The last thing I want to do is sleep but I know that weary feeling will soon arrive, so I slide beneath the blanket, turning my back to him.

  I want to be angry, but I have to put myself in his shoes. He doesn’t know what to do. He just knows he doesn’t want to lose me. It’s too soon. Too early.

  Our life as one had just begun and already it’s ending.

  I don’t know when I fall asleep but when I wake up, John is sitting by my side with a wide smile on his lips. At the door is my expected surprise, Sonny, who perks up and unfolds her arms as she comes rushing my way.

  “Shanny!” She eases her arms around me, making sure not to cause any pain or harm. She hugs me a little harder than expected, most likely assuming I’m the same weight I was during her last visit.

  Wrong.

  I’ve lost so much more. I don’t even look like myself anymore. By the way she pulls back and looks me over as casually as possible, her eyes slightly worried, I know that’s exactly what she’s thinking. Strange, we have many differences but I can always read her mind.

  “How long have you been in town?” I ask as she pulls a chair up to sit next to me.

  “I’ve been here since nine-ish last night. John gave me the key to drop my things off at the house, but I came back this morning.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. How do you think you did on finals?”

  “Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. I just know I studied my ass off and hoped for the best. Can’t be too bad, right?” She shrugs, biting into her bottom lip with doubt.

  “Right.”

  “Where’s Danny?” John asks, as if he doesn’t already know from eavesdropping on our call.