One More Time

Raising my fist, I brought it crashing down into his face. I heard the bones snap as my fist made contact and his head was driven backward, rapping against the concrete sidewalk. Hard. He groaned and then went limp underneath me. As blood seeped from his nose, a rivulet running down his face, the man drifted into unconsciousness.

It was over. It was truly over.

CHAPTER TEN

MADISON

My entire world had come crashing down around me. Even days later, it still felt so entirely surreal. I sat in Oliver's house, staring at the ceiling or walls for hours at a time. My body and mind completely numb. My heart feeling like it had been utterly shattered. Tears rolled freely down my face every time the realization that I no longer had a home of my own to go back to hit me again and again.

I'd lost everything I'd worked so hard to secure for myself. Everything was gone. Forever. My equipment for my Podcast. My computer. My photos. Everything. It was all gone and there was no way to get any of it back.

Oliver assured me that I had a place to stay, for as long as I needed it. It was a gesture I appreciated more than he'd ever know. As kind as it was though, it still wasn't my home. My things were nothing more than a pile of ash and garbage now. All of the memories and the hard work I'd put into creating them – gone.

Still, Oliver was bending over backwards to be generous. Hospitable. Kind. And I truly did appreciate the hell out of it. Especially given our history together. All those years ago, I'd screwed him over and hurt him. Yet, here he was saving my life time and time again.

My phone kept buzzing at all hours of the day and night. But Oliver, thankfully, kept fielding them for me. I didn't want to tell my story repeatedly. My parents got the full story. As did my best friend. My sister got most of it because, by that time, I was tired of re-living it. I didn't feel like rehashing it a thousand different times to a thousand different people.

“They caught the guy, right?”

“Yes,” I'd say.

“And you're alive, so at least there's that.”

I was alive. They were right about that much. Yet, I felt like an empty shell of a human. Without my equipment, I had no show. Without the show, I had no career. Without a career, I had no money and no future. It was a depressing as hell cycle of thought that I couldn't seem to break. And it got that much harder every time I had to try and explain my story to somebody.

I sighed and got online, using Oliver's computer and updated my website. I let my devoted listeners know what happened and promised to be back up and running as soon as I could. Not that I knew when that was going to be. Or if it would ever actually happen.

“At least I'm alive,” I muttered to myself, hearing the hollow futility ringing in my words.

Oliver had to go back to work eventually, leaving me alone in his townhome. I was nervous and jittery at first, even though the guy behind the attacks had been caught. But, at night, when I was home alone in a house that wasn't mine, I still woke up shaking with fear. Sounds would catch me off guard, set my heart pounding, my pulse racing, and fear nearly crippling me.

I didn't know when the last time I'd actually gotten a decent night's sleep had been. But, most of the time, Oliver was there to hold me, to soothe me.

Many nights, I'd be the one soothing him though.

Until eventually, we slept through the night. Both of us. It was about a month after everything had happened, and Oliver was off work. We collapsed into bed, in each other's arms, and didn't wake up until after eight the next morning. It had been absolutely wonderful and completely unexpected. But, completely welcome.

I woke up first, feeling good after an actual solid night of sleep. I lay there and stared at the man beside me. He looked so peaceful sleeping next to me, with the sun streaming down onto his face, making his cheeks glow.

This same man saved my life not once, not twice, but three times. I kissed his cheek softly, not wanting to wake him. I appreciated Oliver for everything he'd done for me and knew he, more than anybody, deserved to sleep for a week straight if he wanted to.

When my lips touched his skin though, his eyes fluttered open, and he smiled up at me.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

“I did,” I said, a smile spreading across my face. “You?”

He nodded. “First time in well over a year,” he admitted.

Without preamble or warning, Oliver pulled me to him and kissed me, neither one of us caring about morning breath. His tongue entered my mouth as he pulled me over on top of him. I felt his cock, already stiff, as I straddled him. Oliver lifted the nightgown up and over my head and tossed it aside, taking my breasts in his hands.

“You make me feel as beautiful as you did back when I was seventeen,” I laughed.

“Hell, you're more beautiful now,” he said. “Not that I ever thought that would be possible. You were the most beautiful girl in high school.”

I felt my cheeks flush. Oliver always seemed to have that effect on me. He didn't even have to say the words most of the time – he just looked at me as if I was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. And I believed him.

His erection pressed against his boxers and I ground myself down on him, dry humping him as we kissed. His hands were tangled up in my hair as I rubbed myself against his firm, hard body. He raked his fingers down my back, drawing a shudder out of my body and a soft moan from my lips.