Forever Us (Always and Forever 4)

“I’m gonna come, Kingston. Please come with me.”

“Fuck, baby.” I bend and kiss her shoulder. “Hold onto the armrest.”

She listens, gripping the leather. I lean with my front flat against her back, our sweaty skin hot between us. I lay my arms over hers and lock my hands in hers on the armrest. With a few more thrusts, I know we’re both ready.

“Come, my queen. Now!” I growl in her ear, and like my command came out, she orgasms the same way, harsh, fast, and demanding, taking all of me with her. Losing myself inside her, I release months of pent up sexual need.

“Wow,” She breathes, dropping her head, our bodies still in formation as we come down.

“Don’t ever take your body away from me again, Lana,” I threaten her, knowing I mean more than just her body. I don’t want her to rob me again of her touch, her laugh, herself.

“I’m trying. I promise we’re going to get better.” She sits up, losing my cock. I fall back on the couch and pull her with me, bringing her chest to mine as she lies effortlessly and almost weightless on top of me.

“I know you are.”

“I want to be better for me, you, and Prince.”

I smirk thinking of him. “I miss him right now. I’m about to say fuck work and come home to spoil you two. I want alone time with the family.” Tracing over my Shayla tattoo, she kisses between my pecs.

“We can spend all day tomorrow together. Princeton needs new baby clothes since he’s growing so fast. Maybe we could go to the mall?”

“Yeah, we can do that. I can’t believe he’s gotten so big. I swear he gains a pound a day. Little stud is gonna outgrow me before he’s even ten.”

She giggles and I smile at the sound.

“Impossible, you’re a giant bulldozer. Ain’t no one outgrowing you.”

“True.” We laugh together, my cockiness breaking through our love fog.

“Thank you for today.”

“Oh no, baby, thank you,” I joke, squeezing her ass.

“Hush, I’m serious.” With a chuckle, she pinches my chest.

“Ouch, okay, okay.” I laugh back. “You’re welcome. But honestly, you did it all on your own. I should be thanking you. Because, Lana...I really don’t want to lose this.” I pull her into my chest deeper and flush against the after-heat of our lovemaking.

“I don’t want to lose you, ever, Kingston. And I know I still have work to do, but every time we step foot in that office, I will be open. And one day, when I’m strong enough, I’ll be better completely, outside of that room.” I want to believe it, and the greater part of me does, but until we cross that bridge, I have to stay guarded indefinitely.

“Thank you, Lana. One day at a time.” I kiss her forehead and we fall into silence for a few minutes before I get us up and dressed. We need to face life for a few more hours until I can get home and spend time with my little family.

Driving home after being with Kingston for the first time in months feels exhilarating. For the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like me again. I feel beautiful, confident, unafraid. My confession was shocking. Part of me doesn’t even remember the entire session with Dr. Moore; almost like once I shared it, I released it.

A new determination has sparked within me to get better, a new sense of hope. If I could, I would go to Dr. Moore everyday. But alongside this spark of hope, there is a sense of embarrassment—a letdown. Had I known the power of an unknown outsider cou

ld get me to say what I feel out loud, to admit my past and take ownership of the abuse, I could have avoided the painful five-plus years I have put myself through.

I get it now. No, I’m not healed in four sessions, but I find the appeal, the draw to therapy. The freedom you feel with each painful memory, the rising of the tide and the washing away of burdens. My smile is peeking through, the cracks are vastly growing, and my wall is slowly crumbling.

Pulling up to the red light, I check my phone, my heart rate accelerating as I see a text from Kingston.

Kingston: I’m proud of you. I told you queens were strong. PS: I miss your sexy little body already.

I chuckle, blushing, actually blushing like it’s my first text from him ever. Peering up to check the light is still red, I look down to text back when my Jeep lurches forward, as does my body with the impact. I hit my head against the steering wheel and drop my phone to the floorboard.

My head starts to pound, and the throbbing begins instantaneously. Rubbing the area lightly, I assess my surroundings and finally zero in on what just happened. Looking behind me, I see a black SUV backing up from my car where they just rammed into me. Opening the door to see the damage from their abrupt hit, I expect the driver to stop and get out, but instead, they swerve around the Jeep and peel away. I begin to holler after them as other pedestrians and drivers come up to me. I see a few on their phones and a couple trying to see the license plate on the black SUV, but no one has any luck.

Did I seriously just encounter a hit and run?