Authors: Jade Goodmore
Blue cunningly opts to change the last chorus to repeats of, “And I’ve fallen in love.” If I was his friend I’d slap him on the back. If it wasn’t my wife he was confessing his love to I’d congratulate him on his huge balls. If I wasn’t scared to death that his subtle dedication was working I would admire his creativity.
As it happens, I want to take his guitar and crush it into his skull.
Repeatedly.
I’m about to when I am pulled roughly from the red.
24
Reid
I am dragged onto the street by a flustered Darlene. The red has followed me. I’m outraged on both of ou
r behalves and terrified that Blue has managed to chip away at whatever caused her to give him a split lip. Darlene’s cheeks are red from anger, or embarrassment, I don’t know. Her hand lets go of my arm and promptly flies to her throat, rubbing it soothingly as if it has been noosed.
“You won’t ever set foot back in that bar. Never again
,” I command as we hover in the street.
She turns to look at me, shocked, but I
ignore it as I walk past her, remaining slow enough for her to catch up. She does.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she contests, stopping in front of me. Typical fucking Darlene. She can’t follow any order. She defies authority and revels in recklessness. That’s what happens when you grow up without reins. I
not so silently curse her parents.
“I’m not telling
you what to do. I’m asking,” I reply, bowing to her unworkable obstinacy. “Please. Don’t ever go in there again. Not for a gig
or
for a drink.”
She looks lost in her skin as she squirms. “Why?” I know she’s fishing because she’s worried and the wou
nded asshole in me wants her to be.
“Because...because I’ve trusted you in Blue’s company
and I can’t anymore.”
“I-I don’t get it.” She’s fidgeting with the buttons on her jacket, fear of being found out splashed all over her face.
“What’s not to get? He’s obviously a violent person, Darlene. Didn’t you see him with that guy?”
She can’t hide her
relief at my reason.
“That was Zach. They’re friends,” she says with no co
nviction.
“If he treats his friends like that then I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“NO!” My voice booms from deep within my chest, deep within the foundations of my stress. My last strand of restraint has snapped and I’m now unable to put up with her bullshit unreasonableness. “I’m not budging on this! You will not go in there again. You will not...put yourself in danger like that.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters. That damn muttering. She turns and walks with determination toward our home, but she’s stopped at the doors to our apartment block by my echoing voice.
“I’m ridiculous? I’m ridiculous?! You’d rather go to that bar and upset me than stay at home and appease me?”
“Stay at home? I’ve stayed at home for five fucking months, Reid!” she screams. She actually screams. I’m both shocked and ecstatic that I have encouraged some passion from her. “That place is the only thing I have to occupy my time other than you and you’re asking me to give it up?”
“I’m not asking
you, Darlene. I’m telling you.”
She throws her arms out. “You’re a walking contradiction!”
“I’m a walking mess!”
She narr
ows her eyes at me before realizing that’s my last offering. I see the words expand in her mind as her gaze flickers across my features. I’m aware that I’m frowning. I’m frowning so much it hurts, but the ability to relax is way out of reach.
“What do you mean, you
are a mess?” she asks, much quieter.
“Because I want you safe, with me, and you’re denying me that.” My voice trembles with the annoyance at having to explain myself over and over, and not being able to touch my real reasons for not wanting her in that hell pit. I’m so close to screaming at her that I know. I’m so close to laying it all out on the line and watching her dance all over it. She would tell me that she’s sorry but she wouldn’t mean it. She would be thinking about missing out on being with him, like she is now.
She wants him.
I have to stop her wanting him.
“You’re not to go there ever
again,” I say, my voice quiet but the intensity ever present.
She shakes her head but I step closer. She matches my step, challenging me.
“You’re not to go there ever again,” I repeat, inciting another repercussion of steps between us. Her chest is inches from mine, her doe eyes wide and defiant as she holds my attention. She doesn’t blanch as my hands lift to her jaw and my fingers bend behind her ears. “Never again,” are the last words spoken.
My lips meet hers with an explosion. Heat rises up between us so fast and so tangible that we could light a match. It burns through my veins and sends a shiver down my spine. It’s the stimulus I need to pursue this. I thrust my tongue into her mouth and she greets it with her own warmth. When her hands lock behind my neck I know that she’s as eager for this as I am.
I’m completely lost in this moment, a moment that has been too long coming. I’ve kissed her this week, but not like this, not passionately and not with such matched aggression. Our bodies are fighting through what our minds can’t and it’s exactly what I need.
In the far depths of my consciousness I hear a couple walking past, coughing indiscreetly. Suddenly concerned that I am about to have my wife in the middle of the street
, I release her lips, but not her body. My hands hold firm against her waist and in her hair.
“I’m not stopping this, okay? This is just suspended until we get upstairs. Yes?”
She nods, breathlessly, as her fingers trace the plumpness of her lips. She hasn’t met my eyes. She’s too busy burning my chest with a look of confusion. I kiss her again, chasing that confusion away.
“Yes?” I assert. She nods again and I take her hand in m
ine before she has time to overanalyze this. I check the elevator but the power is still out so we make our way up the dark stairs and corridor.
We’re panting when we reach our door, from the exhaustion or expectation, who knows, who cares. I battle with the keys as my hand sha
kes. Darlene takes them from me and with renewed resolve she unlocks the door and guides me inside.
The apartment is dark, too dark
, and I curse the damn black out. I want to see my wife, every bit of her. Darlene is already on it, finding a box of matches and lighting the candles on the table. She carries them by their intricate frame and lights the way to the bedroom. I follow in a daze, hypnotized by the sudden determination she encompasses.
In our bedroom
, I watch Darlene as she places the candles on her bedside table and lights several more. I thank God for my wife’s candle addiction and welcome the soft aroma of vanilla that rolls through the air. It smells like her.
Darlene’s watching me, I’m watching her. We are shrouded in silence and it only intensifies the electricity that is buzzing between us. It’s palpable, it’s visual. I can feel it in the tightness of my pants and the shortness of my breath. I can see it in the flush of her cheeks and her
rising chest. It’s as obvious as the candle light dancing beside us and the bed laying in wait.
The wait is over.
I’m ready to pounce when I am halted by the subtle, open-mouthed exhale that leaves Darlene’s perfectly sculpted mouth. I watch as she psyches herself up and then leans down. She pulls off her boots along with her socks, straightening up to resume staring me straight in the eye. Her big eyes are hooded and lazy with seduction. She drops the sweater from her shoulders and I watch it filter to the floor. Toying with the hem of her camisole, she eyes me expectantly, running her tongue unconsciously over her lips.
Reading her thoughts
, I kick off my shoes and roll off my socks. I throw my jacket to the floor before I catch myself. Slowing down, I finger the bottom of my sweater, silently inferring my proposal.
Together, we bare our chests, and while I watch with fascination she unhooks her bra and pulls it from her heavy breasts. They sit on her chest, too large for her slim frame but counteracting perfectly with the soft swell of her hips. Her nipples are already pointed and beckoning me to take them in my mouth. I’m hungry to taste her.
She lingers at the button of her jeans and so I reach for mine, managing to unbutton them despite my anxiously weak fingers. She mirrors my actions and I unashamedly follow the long line of her legs. Their ivory pallor is flawless even in the dim light of the candles. Darlene stands there in nothing but a pale pink thong, radiating beauty worthy of novels, sculptures, masterpieces.
An artist’s dream.
My breath is labored already and I’m yet to even touch her. I step forward and finger the long curls of her hair. She leans into my touch and so I oblige, cupping her delicate jaw and angling her to meet my lips. I stop, caught off guard by the glistening in her powder blue eyes.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing at all,” she says, able to smile a little.
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’ve missed you. So much.” She smiles again, but it’s pained.
“Don’t ever miss me. You don’t need to miss me anymore because I am right here. Always.” I feather her lips with my own, calling on the gentility that she needs. She responds and raises her hands to land on my stomach. Her slight fingers are heaven to my skin as they weave around to my back. I press her to me, relishing in the feel of her soft chest against my firmness.
She sighs into my mouth as my own fingers trickle down her ribs to her hip. Flush against me, she raises onto the balls of her feet and the friction against my erection is enough to force a sharp gasp from my mouth.
“You okay?” she asks, her lips leaving my mine only to suckle at my neck. I roll my head back in appreciation before sudden urgency overcomes me.
“Yes. I need you, Darl.”
“I’m yours.” She can’t possibly understand how powerful her words are. I long to believe her. In this moment, I
need
to believe her.
“Say that again.”
“I’m yours.”
Her declaration is the motivation I need. My hands are quick to find her thighs as I bend and l
ift her onto my waist. Our centers are brushed against each other, propelling my desire further. I lower her as softly as I can onto the bed and allow myself a moment to marvel at her beauty. Her curves are accentuated by the shadows cast by the candlelight and the deep rising of her chest is hypnotizing.
“Reid, please,” she breathes, her fingers curling over the bed sheets.
Agreeably, I step out of my boxers and crawl onto the bed, settling between Darlene’s inviting legs. Immediately they wrap around my hips, entwining our bodies as we work to entwine our minds. I fall against her heaving chest as I secure a wet kiss. My eager mouth trails over the hypersensitive line that spans her neck and she shudders under my tongue.
The knowledge that I can still do this to her after every issue that has amounted between us is empowering. It’s what urges me to descend further and take her tight nipple into my mouth. Her pleasure is instantaneous and I wonder briefly if
I can make her come like this but I’ve waited too long to taste her again, and I’m going to taste all of her. As my lips trace the contours of her subtle abs she trembles in anticipation. When my tongue finds her sex a spluttering of breathy tributes pour from her lips, to God, not me, but I share her gratitude.
Her smell is a gift from heaven
itself and her sweet taste is delectable. The way she grinds her hips in response to my lapping is so unbelievably hot. I love her greediness, her impatience, her appreciation, because it means I’m doing it right. I fleetingly wonder if anyone else can make her come like I can but I force the destructive thoughts from my mind and clamp down on her center, using my teeth to illicit a cry from her panting mouth.
Needing to hear her come, needing to hear her scream my name and cancel out any other name she
has ever panted recently, I intrude on her opening with my fingers and curl them against her. Moving, rubbing, curving in a repetitive action that has her twisting in the prelude to her climax. She thrusts against me before tightening around my fingers and wailing my name. My name on her trembling tongue is a sweet song and as it repeats in lazy rounds I tease out the last of her release.
Bringing myself over her body
, I revel in her post-orgasm state. Her eyes are closed and her sweet mouth open. I waste no time in sharing her taste, coaxing her idle mouth with my eager tongue. She springs alive with a gentle moan. “You have no idea how good that was,” she whispers as my mouth sucks on her earlobe.
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, baby. I felt how good that was.”
“No, let me make you truly feel it.” Her shaky hand teases a line down my torso but I pull back.
“No, no, I want you, now. I’m desperate to be inside you.
I’ve waited too long.” She sighs happily at my words as I pull her hips to me. I center myself at her opening and push in with restrained slowness, savoring every inch of my length inside her tight heat. Her moan is low and the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. How Darlene can use her voice to produce such overwhelming responses in me is magical.
“You feel amazing, Darl. You were made for me, a perfect fit.”
“I feel it, I know it.”