by Aria Ford
“Yeah.” I nodded.
We sat quietly for a while.
Inside, I was wondering what to say. I had no idea. I mean, after almost four years apart, how did one even begin to start rebuilding bridges? I felt at once as if we’d never been apart and as if the past years were an impossible gulf. The years of silence were like one of those lake things around an old castle—wide, impenetrable, shutting me out.
“Margo?”
I blinked. Hearing my name on his lips made my heart flip over just like it always did.
“I’m so glad you reached out.”
I sighed. His words melted my heart. I let out a long shuddering breath and felt a strange sensation in my tummy as if it had turned into melted candy. I looked at him and felt all the love I’d kept buried in my heart for the last four years suddenly come to the surface like sap in trees at springtime.
“Of course I did,” I said softly.
“Of course?” He frowned.
“Well…”
“Will you take anything else?” the waiter asked, appearing to take our coffee cups, which were empty.
“No, thank you,” I murmured.
“No.”
When he’d gone, we just sat and looked at each other.
Jay sighed. “I guess I should go.”
“I guess,” I said softly.
He moved back, the chair grating softly on the floor.
I sighed and stood.
“See you soon?” I couldn’t help asking as I watched him stand, his hand leaning on the chair as he reached for his coat, shrugging into it carefully while balancing with one hand on the tabletop.
“I hope so,” he said.
His eyes met mine and again, I felt that spark leap between us.
Then he reached down for his crutches and leaned on them. He swung slowly out toward the door.
“See you,” he said to me softly.
“See you,” I replied.
He stood back for me in the doorway and, swallowing hard, I walked out. I heard him follow me down the sidewalk, crutches clicking and grating.
When I reached my car, I sat down behind the wheel and leaned my head on it, my eyes, when I looked up, blind with sudden tears.
I was about to drive away when I heard someone thump on the window. I stared.
“Margo?” It was Jay. “Wait.”
I sighed and opened the door, letting him in.
“Margo?” he said again hesitantly. “I know that maybe you don’t…”
I stared at him. “Jay, don’t be silly,” I said.
He leaned forward, confused, and I couldn’t have actually said if he kissed me or I kissed him. His tongue thrust between my lips and I parted them gently, letting him probe my mouth.
I gasped with pleasure as he leaned back, smiling at me uncertainly.
“Margo…” he sighed. “I guess you need to work?”
“I do,” she said. “But there’s no hurry. My next event is at seven. That gives us…what? A few hours?”
He breathed out. “Margo…”
“Come on,” I said impulsively. “I know somewhere where no one will see us.”
My heart thumping in my chest, amazed at my own audacity, I sent the car into traffic, heading for a secluded spot I knew of on the bay. It was not quite dark, but I was fairly certain no one would disturb us. And this was not something I could back out of.
My body would never forgive me if I did. I needed him.
CHAPTER SIX
JAY
I couldn’t actually believe it. I was sitting beside Margo and we were driving to the bay. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. My stare lingered on her high, firm breasts, that long neck, her lips.
“Are you sure about this?”
She nodded. Her lip was between her teeth, focused on her driving.
As we reached the docks, my ache of longing was laced with tension. What would I do? Margo had never seen my leg. Had no idea of the withered, bruised monstrosity it had become below my knee. I didn’t want to show her.
She drew to a halt. We were in a deserted parking lot. The bay was a distant glimmer far below, the light catching the wavelets, the lake gray and sparkly, slowly being eaten by shadow as the night fell steadily.
I breathed in. I was shaking. I reached over and let my hand rest on her thigh. Her skin was cool and satiny.
I let my fingers stroke her skin, moving, searching, up under the skirt she wore. I could hear my breath catching in my throat, my body tensed.
She giggled as my fingers brushed up and just skimmed her undies.
“Does this thing go backwards?” she laughed. I frowned, and she indicated the seat, fumbling under it for the knob to make it go flat.
I nodded. My hand moved for the knob and I pressed it, and she leaned back. The seat shot flat.
I let my eyes travel down her body. I was shaking, the longing was so bad. She was lying on her back, those round, hard breasts sweet and irresistible to touch. I let my hand slide up from her narrow waist and grip one, squeezing it.
She gasped. I sighed. It felt impossibly good in my hand. They fit so well, just the right size for my grip. She leaned back, and I moaned, feeling my cock aching.
I shifted in my seat, finding the lever and letting it go flat too. At least that way I could shift onto one side and kiss her. My tongue slid between her lips and I kissed her, probing her mouth. It was firm and warm on my tongue and I loved the feeling of exploring her, loved the way she parted her lips and yielded to my tongue.
I rolled over and shifted so that our bodies touched. I wanted to take her clothes off but wasn’t sure if she would let me. I rested my hand on her shoulder and gently slid it into the collar, wincing with rising desire as I felt her warm skin under my hand.
“Let me help,” she breathed softly. She sat up and started to undress. I stared at her. Every move was impossibly graceful even though I didn’t think she was trying consciously to be so. She had a natural, sinewy grace that made me drink in her every move.
When she was down to her bra and panties she leaned back. I cleared my throat, but my voice was still a growl.
“Let me.”
She nodded and lay back and I let my eyes feast on her. Her bra and panties were matching, a pale color that could have been dark white or pale pink. I reached up and let the straps move down her slender arms. Her full cleavage was warm, and I ached to see it.
It was getting dark now but as I fumbled and undid her bra I could still see the pale shine of her skin, the dark circles at their centers. Two pale rounds, I ached to feel them between my lips.
I leaned down and greedily drew her nipples into my mouth. I sighed. I recalled them as big, and they were—big and full and so pleasurable to tease with my tongue.
I heard her gasping and I ran my hand down her tummy, reaching for her undies. I slid them off.
She gasped and shivered as I slid my hand between her thighs, my fingers gently parting her folds. They felt hot to my touch, and I could feel the hard nodule, firm and erect, between them. I gently worked it with my fingers and my whole body stiffened as I did so. I heard her sigh.
I let my fingers go lower. I could smell her now and the sweet, spicy, damp smell of her was getting to me, making my loins ache.
I could feel how wet she was, and she started to shiver, her thighs jerking as they did when she came. I quickly stripped myself. She reached across to help, making me tense with longing.
I was ready. I slid my boxers down over my knee, drawing them off my right leg. As I did so, I felt tense. I didn’t want her to see the leg. My whole body froze then, my shame flooding me. I had never felt shame about my body—not before the accident. Now, faced with Margo, who knew me as I had been, the shame was like acid, washing its sting through me and making me wish I could run away.
“Margo?”
“Mm?”
She stirred, and her eyes opened, then she shut them again. I let out a slow, shuddering sigh. As it happened,
the car was getting dark and there was no way she could see my leg. In any case, her eyes were closed, her pale body prone as I slid across and gently parted her thighs.
I wrapped my arms around her and gently slid my left thigh under her, drawing her towards me. She rolled into my arms and I parted her legs, then thrust into her.
Her eyes opened in surprise.
I smiled. I let myself inch into her slowly, even though the hot wetness of her was making me shiver and almost come.
I pushed into her and she yelled, and then I could contain myself no longer. Her body pressed against me, I thrust and thrust up into her, and she jerked and shivered and yelled.
I pushed into her and I could feel my senses swimming and my mind clouding and my body tensing and the almost pain that filled the throbbing head of my cock and filled it and filled it…
I yelled, and the sweet sensation broke through me and over me and stole my mind.
I lay there in her arms and my skin cooled against her. I felt spent.
She sighed and rolled over.
“Well,” she murmured. “You’re squashing me.”
I rolled over immediately, shooting upright with all the haste I could manage.
She giggled. “It’s okay,” she said. “I just…I should go.”
She eased herself to sitting. I watched her unashamedly, reveling in the beauty of her body. I had come overwhelmingly but I was already feeling fresh arousal stir me.
“I guess we should go,” I murmured softly.
She nodded and reached for her top that she had placed on the back seat.
I reached for mine.
We dressed and fixed our hair shyly and put the seats back.
“Come on,” she said as she turned the keys. The jolting, shuddering engine purred to life.
I nodded. “We should go back.”
“Mm.”
We drove back to town. When we reached the main street, near where we’d met for coffee, I sighed.
“I should go.”
“Okay,” she said. She let me out and then sped off, waving through the window.
I leaned on my crutches and felt elated, drained and miserable. I had remembered what sweet bliss it was to be with Margo. But was that a good thing? It was going to torture me. I couldn’t inflict myself on her. Not with this leg.
I stood on the sidewalk, the street loud around me with the sound of traffic and the blare of horns and the shouts of pedestrians, heading down the street.
I was invisible, a mute, unseen observer as life rushed and eddied past me. My whole body was transformed, each part of me tingling and enlivened.
But my heart was sore with the almost-certain knowledge that wouldn’t happen again.
How could I let it?
I had walked away from her years ago so that she never had to see the new me—the wounded me—and I knew I wasn’t about to burden her now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAY
When I got back home, I felt a strange mix of ridiculously happy and ridiculously messed up. I had almost made up my mind to forget the whole thing, always assuming it was possible to forget.
My mind was locked in a landscape of my imagining, filled with thoughts of Margo. I remembered how her body looked, pale and sweet, in the gray light. The indescribable feeling of her breasts under my tongue. The wetness of her around my throbbing manhood.
I heard someone cough disapprovingly.
“Oh. Sorry.”
I realized I had come to a halt in the bus doorway, my mind elsewhere. I moved out of the way and let the impatient commuter get on first.
I took the bus to my parents’ neighborhood and walked, wincing each time the crutches jolted on the uneven sidewalk.
Damn leg.
Now, more than anything, it annoyed me. I reached home just as it was going truly dark. Carri let me in.
“Hey,” I murmured.
“Hey.” She looked at me intently.
I had the uncomfortable sensation that she could read my mind, that somehow, by semimagic means, she knew exactly where I’d been and what I’d been doing.
“Sorry if I’m late for dinner,” I murmured.
She shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just me around. Your parents are still out.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
I went upstairs, wincing as my slow, halting progress made me click and sigh my way up the stairs. I was so impatient with the thing, they might as well have cut it off.
I sat down on the bed and tried to ignore the useless appendage that lay across the bottom of the bed. Withered and bruised and insensate it made so many things impossible. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t stand.
And, since the time of the injury four years ago, I hadn’t wanted to risk being intimate with someone. This—what just happened—was something I would never have dreamed.
Okay, I’d been with one or two girls, but they were fleeting one-night stands, and I had tried to blot out the expression in their eyes when they came into contact with the leg. I’d mostly been too drunk to notice.
Now I couldn’t stop thinking about intimacy. Everywhere I went it seemed like there was some delicious reminder. I remembered her long, slim legs wrapping my waist. The curve of her breasts, pressing into me. The slippery warmth as I played with her, my fingers stroking in between her thighs and how she would cry out and groan with longing.
I laid down and closed my eyes, and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, someone was tapping on the door.
“Jay?”
I sat bolt upright. It was dark and my belly clenched, reminding me it was late and I had not eaten yet.
“Hey?” I called.
“Jay. Are you coming down for dinner?”
I sighed. “Yes, Mom.”
I went to join them all downstairs.
“How was your day?” my mom asked.
“Fine,” I murmured. I looked at my plate.
“Mm, that’s good,” she replied. “It was good weather. Was it still so nice when you went out?”
“It was,” I said.
“You went to the park?” My dad asked.
My cheeks burned. Dammit! I didn’t know what to say. I was confused enough on my own, thank you. I didn’t need to tell anyone about what had just happened to me.
“I was near there,” I said.
“It was a good day to be out.” My mom nodded. “We had a lovely time in the countryside, didn’t we?” She smiled at my father.
“Mm.” He nodded. “I had no idea you could run like that.”
Mom chuckled and told the story of chasing her hat across the field.
I smiled, enjoying their closeness. All the same, it made me feel a bit wistful. I reckoned such a thing was closed to me now. With this leg, the one woman I really felt like that about was sure to be put off.
Well, she didn’t seem too put off this afternoon. But, then again, she didn’t see it. Not exactly.
I felt happy, but I was also confused and sad.
I tried to keep it to myself, but I guess it’s very hard to hide your feelings from your mom. Whatever she had deduced from my silence, it was clear she’d noticed. And she was worried.
“Jay,” she asked as I made coffee and took it through to the darkened study after dinner. “What’s up?”
I sighed. “Nothing, Mom. Look…”
“No, don’t say that,” she said gently. “I know what that means. You’ve been saying ‘Nothing, Mom,’ since you were four years old…”
“Mom,” I laughed, somewhat self-conscious, interrupting her. “I’m not four now…”
“No, you’re not,” she said with an air that meant that I wasn’t four and I was behaving as if I was.
I laughed. “Well, maybe there is something up…” I left the sentence hanging, feeling unsure what to say next. I didn’t know if she’d understand.
“You don’t have to tell me,” my mom said cautiously. “But if you want to, you know I’d like to
hear.”
“Well,” I said slowly. “I want to tell someone, for sure.”
She laughed. “Good.”
I sat quietly for a while. I wasn’t sure what to tell Mom. She had known about me dating Margo, though I hadn’t actually introduced them to each other. I thought Mom wouldn’t understand my predicament if I told her now.
“Well,” I said. “I met a girl.”
“Oh?” She looked interested at once and I laughed.
“Hell, Mom, you needn’t look so surprised.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said, self-conscious. “I mean…that’s great.”
I grinned. “You mean, for a guy with one leg, that’s something impressive?”
“No! You know I didn’t.” She looked appalled. “Stop it, Jay.”
“Stop what?” I asked with a lazy smile. A part of me enjoyed the discomfort on her face. I couldn’t quite say why. Maybe it was just seeing someone else feeling a tiny bit of the pain I felt. Or maybe it was a sort of self-torture for me, like pouring acid on my own wounded pride.
“You know there’s nothing wrong with you,” she said tightly.
“No, I don’t.”
My voice must have been more cutting than I intended because Mom looked like she was about to cry. I instantly felt bad.
“Mom. I’m sorry. Mom…please…”
Dammit, now I wanted to cry too, seeing her all choked up like that. This was just brilliant.
Well done, Jay. Your people skills are improving. How many people have you upset today?
“Sorry, Jay,” she said, blinking hard. “I understand.”
“Mom, you didn’t do anything,” I said tightly. “I…this is hard.”
She sighed. “I know, Jay. I understand.”
She didn’t, but I knew she was trying to say she loved me and cared about me. And I valued that. I really did. Everyone needs love and care.
“It’s just…” I paused. “This is the first time since, well…since that happened…that I’m thinking seriously about someone.”
“Oh?”
This time, she tried not to sound too interested.
I smiled and reached over for her hand. “It’s okay, Mom. I understand your surprise. I am too.”
