The Butterfly Box_A SASS Anthology

by Anthology

  “Are you okay?” Sam’s concerned tone pulls me out of my moment, and I force a smile onto my face for his benefit. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just—”

  “Thinking about him?”

  I close my eyes, guilt filling my veins like a toxic drug at the hurt lacing Sam’s tone. He has been nothing but caring and understanding, and he asked me out on this date after I agreed that I was willing to take a step forward with him. He deserves better than the broken mess of a person that I am. “I’m sorry.”

  Stopping us, Sam turns to face me, his hands coming up to clasp my face so that I can’t look anywhere but at him. “Never, never, be sorry for thinking about him, do you understand me?” His thumbs smooth over my cheeks, the tips of them catching the runaway tears that have appeared out of nowhere.

  I nod my head, the corner of my eyes stinging against the cold air. “It’s just… this night is supposed to be about us. And I meant what I said to you. I want to take a step forward.” I gesture a finger in the small space between us. “I want this. I want there to be a you and me, Sam, and I—”

  I’m cut off by the force of Sam’s lips as they crush down against mine, and I instantly yield to his kiss, feeling the warmth of his mouth, and the tingle brought on by the gentle caress of his tongue, shoot down the front of my chest and pool at the very lowest part of my stomach. The dance of tongues lasts only a few seconds before he’s pulling back and leaving me completely breathless.

  His hand travels down my arm and as he wraps his around it, he threads his fingers through mine. “One step at a time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Tugging me along, we continue down the street, my eyes widening as we come to a stop at the ice rink in the center of the square. “We’re going ice skating?”

  The man who sported nothing but confidence all evening suddenly looks unsure. “Is that okay? We don’t have to if you don’t—”

  “What! Are you kidding?” Gripping the cold leather that is his jacket, I use it as leverage and push up on my toes, kissing his stubbled cheek and loving the way it prickles against my lips. “I love ice skating. I haven’t done it in years, though. Adam had a knee replacement and it was too much of a risk with the chance of falling, so we never came.”

  “Well, then. Let’s go. Let’s see what those legs are capable of.”

  Taking my hand, he drags me behind him, heading in the direction of the skate rentals, and as he pulls out his wallet to pay for them, he flashes me another quick smile. I wait patiently, feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning. I’m anxious to get on the rink and tear up the ice. Sam returns to my side a few seconds later, handing me my skates and putting his own on. He moves to stand in front of me, his balance completely unsteady as he holds his arms out beside him as if it will stop him from landing on his ass.

  Something about seeing this full-grown man standing before me with the fear of falling in his eyes, has me smiling both internally and externally.

  I want to take his hand and pull him to me. I want to whisper in his ear that it’s okay, it’s okay to be afraid of falling because I am too… just for an entirely different reason.

  Lacing up my skates, I double tie the strings and stand, tilting my head back to look up at my date. “Ready?”

  A nervous gleam in his eyes, he takes my hand and entwines our fingers. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I smile, and then pull him along, my feet instantly remembering the movements needed to navigate the ice. Sam’s grip tightens as we step onto the rink, and I instantly swirl around, skating backward so I can catch the expression on his face.

  “People actually like this?”

  My smile widens and I chuckle. “Yes. People actually like this. What are you afraid of, Sam?”

  “The same thing you are.”

  “Falling?” He doesn’t say anything, but the answer is written in his eyes. Skating toward him, I wrap my arms around his waist, steadying us both as he almost loses his balance, and rest my chin on his chest. I tilt my head back and stare up at him. “We’ll just have to catch each other then, now won’t we?”

  “YOU WERE AMAZING out there tonight.”

  A laugh slips from my lips, and I reach into my purse and pull out my keys, unlocking my door and pushing it open. “That’s just because I had an audience to impress.” Stepping inside, I turn back around and look at Sam. “And you weren’t too bad yourself.”

  “Ha.” He grins. “Please. I think I spent more time climbing to my feet than actually skating. My back’s going to be sore for a week.”

  “It was worth it, though, right?” I stare down at the worn out welcome mat beneath my feet, not ready for this evening to end. “I had a lot of fun tonight. Really, I did.”

  “It was totally worth it. And I'm glad to hear that.” Sam reaches up, pushing a lock of my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, his fingers lingering near my cheek. For a fraction of a second, I’m unsure if he’s going to kiss me again. The look in his eyes says he wants to, but his hesitation is clear in every one of his movements. Not giving him a chance to analyze the thought any longer, I lean in and brush my lips against his, silently granting him permission.

  His hands slide around my waist, and he kisses me softly before pulling back, his eyes closed and his forehead touching mine. “I should really go.”

  A switch of courage flicks inside of me, propelling me to him, and as our mouths meet again, our tongues colliding for the third time this evening, I whisper against his lips. “Stay.”

  The hold he has on me tightens, and his answer is not verbal, but demonstrated by his actions. Kicking the front door closed, he walks me backward, our mouths still connected and his fingers gripping my hips. As we reach the couch, he spins me around, sitting himself down and pulling me on top of him so I’m straddling his lap.

  Not once does my mouth mourn the loss of Sam’s as I shrug off my coat, or as I slide my palms up his chest and over his shoulders in an attempt to remove his. He leans forward, his hands leaving my body only momentarily to assist me, and as he tosses it to the floor with mine, he grabs a hold of my waist and pulls me flush against him, kissing me harder.

  My skirt has ridden up over my hips, and the ache slowly burning between my thighs, as I feel Sam’s arousal harden beneath me, has me gasping out in need. I'm nervous. I'm scared. My entire body is alight with a desire I'm not used to feeling and the only person capable of satisfying it, is holding back. Sam's kissing me, his hands roaming, touching and teasing, but he's not given me any indication that he’s ready to move forward.

  I sever the connection on our lips, my breath ragged and my chest rising sharply, and I go for it. I push all my reservations aside and make the decision for him. Hooking my fingers around the hem of my sweater, I tug it up over my head and drop it beside me, swallowing down hard at the astounded reaction on Sam’s face.

  His eyes squeeze shut, the muscle running along his jaw visibly tensing as he lets the curse fly from his mouth. “Fuck, Cassi.” He shakes his head and lifts his lashes, a fire in his gaze that's heating every inch of my skin. “You're so Goddamn beautiful.”

  Internally, I'm shaking with fear, wanting this, but suddenly terrified of taking the next step. Luckily, I don't have to.

  Curling his fingers around my sides, he brushes the rough pads of his thumbs over the thin black lace covering my breasts, and my nipples instantly tighten. I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation soaring across my chest, and Sam leans forward, blazing a path of tender kisses over my jaw and down to the hollow dip of my throat. He moves further south as his hands slide around my back, his nimble fingers unclasping my bra and then slipping its straps off my shoulders and down my arms. The material completely falls away, and as his warm, wet mouth glides over my goose bumped-flesh, he pulls the peaks of my breasts between his lips, kissing and sucking, slowly flicking his tongue over their hardened tips.

  Lust swirls like a violent storm in my abdomen, growing stronger with each pa
ssing second, and I roll my hips into his, pressing down as I do, wanting him to experience the same sweet torture he's giving me.

  A deep, almost desperate sounding groan rolls from the back of his throat, and as I ready myself to repeat the movement, he wraps his arms around me, swiftly flipping me over and laying me on my back. He pins me between him and the cushions and kisses me with a passion I've yet to receive from him. I nearly cry out as he pulls back and stops. His weight on me and the unusual solace it provided, has made me realize just how hungry I am for it. This time his eyes hold mine; they’re awaiting permission. He wants more. Much more.

  I silently give it, my body longing for whatever this man has to offer, and as he flicks the button open on my skirt, curling his fingers around all my remaining layers, he drags them down my hips and over my thighs, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

  As I attempt to sit up and remove his shirt, he gently pushes me back down and shakes his head. “Not tonight. Just… just let me do this, okay? Let me give you this, Cass. Let me make you feel good.”

  I nod, feeling entirely exposed but strangely comfortable under his intense gaze. I stare at him for a moment, my heart jack hammering beneath my ribs, and then I close my eyes, completely losing myself to this man, this man who has unexpectedly come into my life and shown me what it's like to feel something other than pain.

  Smoothing his hand up the back of my calf and following a similar path with his mouth, he grazes the soft skin of my inner thigh with his lips. He travels even further up, higher and higher, trailing a path over and down my center. His breath is warm against my flesh, his tongue gentle as it glides and flicks across the sensitive bundle of nerves at my core, and the sensation that overcomes me is almost too much to bear. With nothing to grab a hold of, my hands immediately move to his hair. A delicious coiling of tension begins to build low in my stomach, and I’m nearly pushed over the edge as Sam slides a finger inside, one at first, then two.

  My back arches off the couch as he continues his strokes, his mouth and fingers working me to a point that has my entire body feeling on top of the world and pleasure swimming hot through my veins.

  Unable to stifle the moan erupting from my throat, I cry out as I reach that coveted high, and it's not until Sam is once again hovering over me, my hands on his chest, that I feel how fast his own heart is beating. It's beating in complete tune with mine, and I gulp down the unexpected emotion that threatens to suffocate me. I close my eyes, determined to stay in this moment. I don’t want to feel guilt or regret. I don’t want to think of Adam.

  Gently stroking my cheek, Sam stares down at me with concern in his eyes, his voice a whisper. “Are you okay?”

  A lone tear rolls down my temple, and before I can reach up and remove it, or offer this man so much as an explanation, he’s kissing it away and scooping me up in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, Cass. I didn’t want to push you. You know I would never—”

  I shake my head quickly. “You didn’t.” I tilt my head back and look at him through my watery gaze. “You didn’t push me, okay? I wanted this. I want you, Sam. I’m just...”

  Sam finishes my thought. “You’re still learning how to let go of him.”

  “ARE YOU SURE about this?” I look over at Cassi, knowing she can read the apprehension on my face. “There is still time for me to drive off and forget this entire idea.”

  “Don't be ridiculous, Sam. We've been dating for nearly two months now, I think it's time I've met your father.”

  Before I have a chance to object, she is flinging open my car door, bounding toward the front porch of the house I grew up in, her brown hair pulled in a high ponytail and swaying fiercely against her back. I haven’t made it even three feet across the yard before she’s ringing the doorbell, her beautiful smile in place and the glass casserole dish filled with homemade macaroni and cheese that she insisted on making in her arms.

  Seeing her standing there, readying herself to meet my father even after everything I’ve told her about him has my heart swelling in my chest. Our steps over the past two months have been small ones, sometimes feeling like we’ve barely moved at all, and there have been times when even I wondered if Cassi would ever get back to the woman I imagined she used to be. But then I see the woman she is becoming, the woman who is slowly learning what it’s like to be happy again, and I can’t help but fall a little bit harder for her.

  My feet move faster, my stomach in knots from the anticipation of this visit. After the argument I had with my father, I told myself I wouldn’t cave and go right back to helping him. If he was going to start taking on any responsibility, he needed to do it on his own, but when Cassi insisted on meeting him, I knew I needed to push everything aside and attempt to make amends between us.

  The door swings open just as I reach the porch steps, and my father steps out, freshly showered and clad in a pair of beige slacks and a light blue polo. His hair is cut, and the usual stubble covering his jaw is non-existent. I can’t remember the last time he actually looked together.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  A rosy-blush creeps onto Cassi’s cheeks as she holds her hand out for him to shake. “Cassidy Porter. It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet you, Mr. Copeland.”

  I stand back with a lump in my throat, watching as my father ignores Cassi’s hand, and instead, pulls her into a one arm hug, careful to avoid knocking the casserole dish from her hands. “The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” Over Cassi’s shoulder, my father’s eyes catch mine, and we exchange a look, one that I hope expresses my gratitude for him making an effort today.

  He steps back and moves to hold the front door open for Cassi, guiding her into the house with his free arm. When she is out of earshot, he turns to look at me as I climb the steps, whispering, “She’s a beauty, son.”

  I nod in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

  The rest of the afternoon is a whirlwind of laughter and jokes as my father entertains Cassi, and there is a feeling in my chest that expands as I watch them interact. For the first time in a long time, I’m proud of the man in front of me. I’m proud to call him my father. Today, he has shown me he is fully capable of being the man I’ve wanted him to be for the last nineteen years of my life. And seeing Cassi, seeing the way she fits into my life as though she was born to be a part of it, makes me realize that I’m beyond the point of falling for her.

  “Thank you so much for allowing me to tag along with Sam today, Mr. Copeland. I’m so glad we finally able to meet.”

  “Likewise, beautiful girl. You keep that boy of mine in line, you hear?”

  Cassi grins, and as I rise to my feet, I grab her jacket from the back of my chair and hold it up for her as she shrugs it on. Twisting on her heels, she turns toward me and pushes to her toes, planting a soft kiss to my cheek. “I’ll meet you in the car, okay?”

  I grab a hold of her waist and yank her into my chest, this time kissing her on her lips. “Thank you. I’ll just be a minute.” Placing her back down, I watch as she gives my father another quick wave and then disappears out of the door. I’m grabbing my own coat, getting ready to follow her when my father stops me.

  “Listen, Sam.”

  I turn to look at him.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I owe you an apology. Not just for our argument a few weeks ago, but for not being the man you needed me to be over the past nineteen years. I’m sorry for not being a better father. When I lost your mother, I lost a part of me that I didn’t know how to carry on without. She was my entire world, and I can tell by the way you look at Cassi, she is becoming yours. It wasn’t right what I had said. That girl, that woman, she’s perfect for you, and it’s clear you love her. Don’t be afraid to tell her how you feel, son. She deserves to know.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Grabbing my father by the shoulder, I pull him into a tight hug and then head for the door.

  “Oh, and, Sam?”

  His vo
ice stops me once again. “Yeah?”

  “I’d like our Sunday visits to continue, but seeing as I’m managing the bills okay, perhaps we can do something else on those days? Maybe go fishing or even golf, perhaps.”

  “Golf?” I raise a brow. “You don’t golf, Dad.”

  He shrugs. “There is a first for everything, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Yeah, I guess there is.”

  RAIN POURS FROM the dark gray clouds in the sky, drowning everything in existence, and as I stand back listening to the droplets pound relentlessly against the glass, I watch a subdued Cassi stare blankly out of the patio doors. She hasn’t moved from that spot since we came home from my father’s, and I wonder what is weighing on her mind that has held her in place. It’s almost as if she’s lost in her own little world, and I’m afraid to walk over and make myself a part of it.

  I watch her a bit longer, my heart a steady rhythm in my chest, and as she reaches up and presses her finger to the glass, dragging it along the wet pane, I make the conscious decision to join her. Walking up behind her, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me, nuzzling my face into the space between her shoulder and neck. I close my eyes and breathe her in, her familiar vanilla scent now a constant for me. “You’re amazing, you know that?”