Forgetting You, Remembering Me, page 15
part #2 of Memories from Yesterday Series
The veil of darkness allows me to speak without fear of bursting into embarrassed flames. “I know I’m not experienced in that sense…”
“That doesn’t matter to me.” His husky voice electrocutes me into a hypersensitive state.
“I know, but show me…what you like.” This is so far out of my comfort zone, but I want to experience everything with Saxon.
“I like you. Whatever you do to me, I’m going to enjoy because I…love…you.” His lips are a hair’s breadth away, but if I kiss him, I’ll lose my nerve. I want to dominate him, just as he does to me. Without overthinking it, I lift the dress from my body and strip myself bare. I’m only wearing my underwear, but that suddenly feels like too much.
In the sliver of dusk, I can see those hungry gray eyes hunt across my flesh, landing at the junction of my thighs. I need to touch him. I need him ingrained in my every pore. Caressing the soft whiskers on his chin and his cheeks, I bring his hand up to cup my breast. This is my show, and he allows me to be the puppeteer.
The delicious nudge at my entrance is all I need to quash my shyness and lose myself in this feeling of being one with this man. I rock sluggishly, in no real hurry because we have all night. We have countless minutes, hours, years to learn what it means to belong to each other.
“Do you like when I do this?” Bending forward, still swaying my hips, I softly bite over his racing pulse.
He hisses, tightening his grip around me. “Yes.”
“What about this?” Threading my fingers through his long hair, I tug his head backward, exposing the length of his neck. I drift downward, using my tongue as my navigator, lapping lazily over any scrap of flesh I can find. When I reach the dip between his collarbones, I come back up for air.
“Yes,” he replies breathlessly, his erection impossibly hard between us.
Looping both hands behind his neck, I arch backward, offering my exposed breasts. “And this?” He responds by leaning forward and taking my left breast into his hot, wet mouth. He languidly circles my pearled nipple with his tongue.
I want nothing more than to surrender, but that isn’t what this is about. It’s about taking our time and connecting in every way.
With one hand still latched behind his neck, I coax him to let go with the other. He complies. Even in the shadows, I can see his desire, which spurs me on. Hooking two fingers over the curve of his lower lip, I implore that he permits me entry. He does. When his lips part, I slip my fingers into his warm mouth. I slide them in and out, his tongue circling the tips, wetting them just how I want him to. The action is so like when he worships my center. I stifle a moan.
Once they’re coated, I slip them free with a succulent pop. Quashing my nerves, I walk my fingers between us and slip them into my underwear. The lubrication he provided mingles with mine, and I whimper when I slip them into me.
A low growl rumbles from his chest.
“Do you like to watch?” I ask between deep intakes of breath, increasing the tempo of my fingers. “I liked watching you.” Memories of him pleasuring himself in the shower add to my need.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he replies, his head dipped, watching what’s unfolding on his lap.
His response provides me with the confidence I need, and I continue to get myself off. I would much prefer his fingers, but having him watch me is a totally different experience, and I own it. I caress myself, adoring the way his hot breath bathes my naked flesh.
The delicious intrusion between us only seems to grow when I brush against it, and I know it’s taking all of Saxon’s willpower not to throw me onto the bed and have his way with me. I rub over my budding center, so desperate to come, but I don’t.
As I’m still working myself into a frenzy, I unfasten Saxon’s belt and unsnap the top button of his jeans. Breathless anticipation fills the space between us, and when I raise my hips so I’m able to open his zipper, he reaches down and rips my underwear clean off in one tug. Saxon is a gentleman, but a dominant force in the bedroom when I need him to be, and I love it.
His savage aggression adds to my already aroused state, and I pump my fingers in and out fiercely, so ready to replace them with him. He yanks down his jeans, and when I feel his red-hot hard-on against me, an untamed moan spills free.
This is my show, but I know it won’t be long until Saxon takes the lead, giving me what we both crave. He dips his hand between us, circling my ripe clit. I scream as his touch feels like a thousand volts of electricity coursing through my veins.
My fingers will no longer do, so I lift my hips and grasp his length. Wrapping a hand around his neck, I lower my hips and guide him into me, inch by delicious inch. He hisses, clenching tightly around my waist, yet he still allows me to take what I want from his glorious form.
I’m stretched wide, and the feel of us, flesh to flesh, is a miracle come true. Once he’s rooted deep within, I halt, wanting to savor our union. “I love you,” I gasp, on the cusp of bursting.
He presses his cheek on my chest over my heart and sighs. “And I you.”
Once my muscles adjust to the vast intrusion, I begin to rock my hips, placing both hands on his cheeks and drawing his face to mine. The full moon comes out of hiding, illuminating this deepest joining, and I smile. This is everything I will ever want. Now and forever.
Our movements are languid as we’re in no hurry. We have all night, the rest of our lives. We worship each other’s mind, body, and soul, and it’s beautiful.
Saxon closes the distance and kisses me with the sweetest sweep of his lips. He parts my mouth with his tongue, a tender touch which transforms into an affectionate kiss. I lock my arms around his shoulders and continue riding him, unable to get enough.
His signature fragrance intensifies tenfold, and I want it all over me. I press our chests together, groaning. Our kisses become more frantic as Saxon guides my hips, rocking me back and forth. I clench, and he hums, biting my bottom lip.
“Oh, fuck, Lucy,” he cries into my mouth. “Say this is forever. Tell me this will never end.” After today, we both need the assurance that this feeling is without end.
Increasing the tempo, I lift my hips and slam onto him, screaming. “This will only get better. I promise.” And I mean every word. He hums, bouncing me on his lap, the mood changing as we both race toward the finish line.
We both let go, taking and giving, and before long, I have no idea where my body starts and his ends. He bends down and sucks my nipple while I bow backward, moaning, as he buries himself as deep as he can go.
I’m so close, it lingers on my tongue, and when Saxon thrusts his hips, brushing over my center, I can’t help but explode around him. He growls, pumping into me so ferociously, while I grow lax and ride the wave of pleasure, unable to silence my cries.
He continues sinking into me, his unrefined grunts adding to the afterglow, and when I feel him tense, reaching the apex I just traversed, I do something I can question tomorrow. He starts to pull out, but I stop him. “No holding back. I want to feel you inside me long after you’ve gone.”
The whites of his eyes display his astonishment to my revelation. His lips part, heavy breaths escaping him as he’s trying to hold back. But I want this. “You are my home, Saxon. Forever is not long enough, so let’s make every second count.”
I rock my hips, my hypersensitive flesh screaming in blissful torture, but when Saxon rumbles low, his movements jerky and unrestrained, it’s so worth the pain because he explodes in me with a husky cry. He pumps wildly, both hands low on my hips as he milks every last drop. “I promise to love you forever… Every single day of forever.”
I slump against him in a well-satiated heap, gasping for breath. He embraces me tightly, kissing my temple, my cheeks, my neck, and we stay this way long into the night because we promised each other forever, and that forever starts now.
Two Weeks Later
The past two weeks have been nothing short of perfect. I hate to use that word, especially after everything we’ve been through, but no other term describes what Saxon and I have.
After we made love, we fell into our first real deep slumber, a weight lifting from our shoulders. Who would have thought an argument could make things better, but that’s exactly what happened.
With no real plans, Saxon and I enjoyed the freedom of being a normal couple in a city where no one knew our past. He took me on a tour, showing me everything that Oregon had to offer. Once we toured the city, he surprised me and told me to pack a bag. I had no idea where he was taking me, but I knew I’d love whatever he wanted to show me, and love it I did.
The one thing I didn’t know about Oregon was that even though Portland has a bustling nightlife, just a stone’s throw way is vast greenery and hiking trails leading to utter paradise. There wasn’t a soul for miles, and it was exactly what I needed. Saxon knew I missed the remoteness of Montana, so he took matters into his own hands.
We hiked a trail that displayed magnificent old growth, tranquil waterfalls, and footbridges which allowed us to trek over tranquil, turquoise rivers. It was so peaceful and untouched, and I fell in love. We camped overnight, huddling close together as the fire burned brightly. We made love under the stars, and I couldn’t help but think that I’d finally found my place.
We ate in, watched movies, and sat on the porch, talking to all hours of the morning. Most would consider our weeks together boring and uneventful, but to me, it was normal, and I had missed the sluggish pace. I still don’t know what I want to do, but for now, I’m just going to enjoy the silence.
Saxon went to work after Cleo called about some apparent emergency he had to attend to. He didn’t want to go, but now that he’s back home, it makes sense for him to tend to the garage as he usually would.
I’ve caught up on some paperwork as the catastrophe over in Syria seems to be getting worse. I’ve contacted all the appropriate parties and am waiting to hear back with what I can do to help. I know my boss wants me to go over to Syria and liaise with the appropriate people, but I just can’t leave the US right now. I’m determined to be just as useful here as I can overseas.
Deciding to surprise Saxon because he’s the one who always cooks for me, I’m whipping up a storm in the kitchen. On the menu is a vegetarian risotto with herb bread. I’ve decided to make a peach cobbler because Saxon and I both love dessert. So far, I haven’t burned down the kitchen. A win for me.
I love cooking, but I have no idea where anything is. I suppose that’s half the fun.
Humming to a tune on the radio, I’m covered in flour but am thoroughly enjoying myself because I can’t remember the last time I did something so mundane. As I’m stirring in the milk, lost in my own world, a delicious aroma floats through the kitchen, and it has nothing to do with the food I’m preparing.
“Honey, I’m home,” Saxon quips, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to my cheek. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s nice to hear. “Aww, baby, you cooking me pie?”
“I missed you. How was your day?” I lean into him, closing my eyes and relishing in his touch.
“It was okay. Busy.” His exhaustion is clear, which sends off alarm bells.
“Everything okay?” I turn over my shoulder to look at him. He’s covered in grease. I can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, fine. I think I’m going to have to hire a new mechanic. The boys can’t keep up with the workload. I’ll have to go in tomorrow.” He sighs, appearing to feel guilty.
Turning, I lock my arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to babysit me,” I say, tongue in cheek.
“I know that, but I want to,” he replies with a drop-dead gorgeous smirk. “We’re supposed to be spending time together. I feel like an ass, leaving you here all by yourself.”
I’m touched, but he has nothing to feel guilty for. “Don’t be silly. I can entertain myself. Besides, I caught up on some work, did some laundry, and now I’m cooking you dinner.”
A twitch pulls at the corner of his lips. “Why does something so tedious sound like the best thing in the world?”
“Because we’re here together.”
“I could get used to this,” he replies, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek.
“Me too,” I reply, meaning every word. For now, we’ve found our home. And I’m fine with playing happy families until I have to face reality. When I look down at his soiled work clothes, I scrunch up my nose. “What I can’t get used to is you covered in grease. Upstairs.” I raise my finger, indicating he’s to shower before dinner.
He chuckles. “You just want to get me naked.” No point in arguing.
There is something about a man who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and Saxon is one dirty man. Unable to help myself, I remain transfixed on his lips which appear all the pinker thanks to the dark smears of oil on his cheeks and forehead.
Bending, he bumps his nose with mine, nuzzling from side to side. “Feel free to join me.” He kisses my lips briefly before leaving me with a glorious view of his ass.
Once I finish wiping the drool from my chin, I continue cooking, thankful I have something to distract myself with. Otherwise, I just may be tempted to take him up on his offer. I’m insatiable when it comes to him.
Focusing on the task at hand and not the fact Saxon is currently stripping bare, I finish the cobbler. I place it in the oven, looking forward to the smell of sticky goodness filling the kitchen.
The kitchen resembles a war zone, so I decide to wash a few dishes and then load the dishwasher. As I’m filling the sink with hot water, my cell chimes. Reaching for it with soapy hands, I place it to my ear, holding it in place with my shoulder. “Hello,” I say, not bothering to look at the screen when I answered it. “Hello?” I repeat when no one speaks.
“Lucy…”
A chill sweeps through me as her tone is similar to that of when she told me the worst news of my life.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” My heart begins a heavy staccato, almost crippling me.
“Honey, it’s Sam.”
I swallow. “What about him?”
“He’s in the hospital. He blacked out while on the tractor.” I close my eyes, an internal scream ripping through me. “The doctors are running tests. His headaches have been getting worse. They’re concerned. He’s asking for you, sweetie.”
The walls begin closing in on me, and I suddenly can’t breathe. “I-is he all right?”
“Yes, he’s okay. Just a few broken bones. But his blackouts… they’re not good. It’s entirely your decision whether you return, but I thought you should know.” My mom would never tell me to do something I didn’t want to do, but I can hear it in her voice. She wants me to do the right thing and come home.
“Thank you for telling me.” My voice sounds so far away. I can’t believe this is happening again.
“Of course, sweetie. How’s everything over in Oregon?” It was perfect until about a minute ago. I’m convinced I’ve jinxed myself. Every time I use that word, there seem to be repercussions of the worst kind.
“It’s great. I love it here, but I guess I should come back now, considering what’s happened.” This is the moment my mother would jump in and tell me to stay if she believed I should, but her silence speaks volumes.
“Do what you think is right. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I hang up, my mind reeling from the news she just delivered.
I know what I should do, but it’s not what I want to do. But how can I stay here when Sam is hurt, asking for me? I can’t. There isn’t a choice to make. It’s been made for me. I have to go back.
“Lucy? What are you trying to do? Drown us?” Quickened footsteps race through the kitchen, but they may as well be moving in slow motion as I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact my life just turned to shit in the span of two minutes.
I slouch against the counter, shaking my head, a hand pressed against my mouth. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Saxon gently touches my cheek, coaxing me to look at him. “Your hand is wet.” A silly thing to notice, considering the circumstances, but I feel like I need to focus on something else before I break down into inconsolable tears. This can’t be happening.
“You left the faucet running.”
“I did?” I ask in a distant whisper.
He nods, his gray eyes softening, his apprehension clear as day. “What’s going on?” What’s going on is that I have to leave Saxon and go to Sam.
When will this end? When will I stop feeling guilty? When is it my time to live my life without regret or remorse?
I owe Saxon an explanation. I owe him so much more, but no matter what I say, it all leads to one reality—I’m leaving Oregon, and I have no idea when I’ll return. The thought breaks the floodgates, and a tear trickles down my cheek. “I have to go back… h-home.” How my heart hurts, but I don’t expect things to be easy now.
“Home? To Montana?” he asks with pause, wiping the tear away with his thumb.
“Yes.”
He wets his bottom lip. “You’re not happy here? Did I do something wrong?”
His self-doubt and automatic response to blame himself has me throwing my arms around him, wanting to wash away his doubts. “No, of course not. You’re wonderful.” I tighten my hold.
“I love it here. I love you…but I have to go because Sam…”
He tenses under me, and I close my eyes, holding back my tears. “He’s in the hospital. He blacked out again. This time, however, he was riding the tractor. My mom just called me… He’s asking for me…”
“You have to go to him.” His response leaves me speechless.
“What?” I manage to spit out, pulling from our embrace, needing to look at him to ensure I’m not dreaming.
“I understand.”
My lips are moving in wordless animation because I have no idea what to say. I was expecting him to explode, just how he has every right to, but instead, here he stands, biding me farewell. I don’t deserve this man. I truly don’t.
