I gasp and dig my nails into his back when he thrusts the full length of his cock into me, and his growling in response only makes me wetter and wilder for him. I’ve always been completely enamored with this feral sensual side of him that devoured me under the bridge years ago. Thank goodness the medication hasn’t taken that part of him away.
I struggle to spread myself around him but I’m restrained by the jeans bunched around my thighs. Cupping my ass in his hands, he lifts me, then lowers me down, impaling me with his thick shaft.
“Fuck, I missed you, baby…” he rasps against my lips, kissing me ferociously, hammering harder and faster, chafing my back against the textured wallpaper.
“I missed you. So, so much.”
Sighing, his eyes close and he stills, letting me take over. I ride his body slower, calming him, savoring every inch, every breath, every beat of our hearts. “Don’t ever leave me again,” I whisper.
“Never.”
After our wallbang, he carries me to the bed, slowly removes the rest of my clothes, then his own. Wordlessly, he brings the white sheet and comforter up over us and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I snuggle my face into the warmth of his chest and hug him tight.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry today, but promises were made to be broken, right?
The moment I feel his heart beating against my cheek I start to sob; unable to stop no matter how hard I try to hold it all in. I was wrong to think I had resolved all the emotional turmoil during my months of therapy. I might have found strength, patience, and understanding, but those things can only reach so far. Parts of me are still broken, and I’m sure the same is true for him.
Stroking my back in slow circles, he presses his lips to the top of my head and whispers, “I’m sorry,” over and over again until I have no tears left. We cling to each other until my breathing calms and the hiccupping sobs have stopped.
“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, and I sit my sniffling mess of a self up and watch him disappear into the bathroom. He comes back with a handful of tissues and a washcloth dampened with warm water, which he uses to gently wipe my cheeks.
The sweet gesture almost renders me back to a sobbing mess. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to cry…I wanted to be strong.”
“Shhh…” He touches his lips to my forehead. “You don’t apologize, Piper. Not for any of this. And you are strong. You’re the strongest chick I’ve ever met. A weak woman would never be able to love me. You’re a fuckin’ warrior.”
I smile weakly, not feeling like any sort of warrior at all. “I just want us to be happy. And together.”
He climbs into the bed again and leans back against the headboard, holding his arm out for me to nestle into his side.
“We’ll get there, Ladybug. I promise.”
“That’s all I want. For both of us.”
I rest my head against his chest, slide my arm around his waist, and curl my leg around his, exactly how we used to sleep in the sleeping bag in the shed. How insane is it that those nights snuggling in the musty shed, listening to the rain fall on the tin roof with Acorn sleeping at our feet, were some of our very best times together? Life was simpler then, when I lived in a comfy bubble of naivety.
“I didn’t want to die,” he says in a low voice. “That’s not what any of this was about.”
Waves of sadness wash over me hearing those words. “Blue…you don’t have to talk about this.”
“I want to.” He moves his hand to the curve of my waist and squeezes. “And I want you to go back to calling me Evan. Like when we first met. Blue’s gotta go.”
“Okay.”
“Killing myself isn’t what I wanted. There wasn’t a plan. I didn’t want to leave you. Or Lyric. Everyone just assumes I must have hated my life, and that’s not true. I didn’t hate my life at all. In fact, I was loving my life more than ever. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel of getting out from under the band, I was looking forward to having a quiet life with you and Lyric.” He takes a deep breath and rubs his bare foot against mine under the sheet. “But then shit kept popping up from the band, legal stuff, tons of decisions. A lot of the fans were pissed. I was getting hate mail every fuckin’ day. The guys were getting it too and they didn’t deserve it. It was my decision to end the band, not theirs. All this doubt seeped in. I was afraid you’d leave me. I didn’t know which way to turn or what to do. My head started to fuckin’ spin. I was going crazy from the agony and the noise and the voices and the fucking bird and I needed it to stop. I couldn’t think beyond that. Everything else went black. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I need you to believe that I never wanted to leave you.”