Page 67 of After Care

“Whatcha reading over there?” The sultry tone of his voice ratcheted the pulse between my thighs.

“Nothing,” I rasped, feeling my face flush. I stilled my body, hyperaware of his thigh beneath mine and the weight of his leg at my core. I had my period, a light flow, but still…

“Your fine ass just rubbed my hip, like it wanted something.”

“Oh…I…the scene is hot,” I said, with a giggle. My eyes had drifted, so I started at the top of the page again, but my body betrayed me, reacting in the same way. His thigh pressed upward, my core resting flat against the heat of his leg. Without thought, I lightly squeezed, the pulse at my center beating faster than my heart. Tommy’s arm curled, and he pushed the tablet down. His leg nudged harder, firmly pressing against a suddenly needy spot.

“You getting off on my leg, darlin’?” My face heated, but my throat moaned. The sound escaped me before I could catch it.

“I…I don’t know,” I purred, allowing my body to take over, rubbing my center against the firmness of his thigh. My backside curled into his hip, and I developed a rhythm of rocking over his leg and rolling into his side. He shifted, pressing the length of him against my backside, and I whimpered. The tingles inside my belly had moved from flutters to flight. I was getting so close, and ridiculous as it sounded, I was about to get off on his leg. His hand gripped my hip, and he moved with me, letting me lead.

“Tommy,” my voice hitched. He groaned behind me. “That’s it, darlin’.”

“Tommy,” my voice rose an octave, disbelieving this was happening. That I’d gone this crazy as to take his leg.

“Mmmm…right there, baby,” he said, his voice that dropping sound of pebbles in a pond. Plop. Plop. Plop. And I drowned. My hand sought purchase on the sheets. My thighs clenched together, rubbing his leg. This was insane, I thought, but my body disagreed, and I came and came. My heart hammered and breaths shallowed. As I slowed, Tommy pressed me to the bed and climbed over me. The hot length of him nestled against my core, damp and spent from what I’d done.

“I want inside again.”

I nodded lazily. “We might want a towel or something.”

“Get one,” he demanded, rolling to the side and I raced for the bathroom. Once there I removed my underwear. Back by the bed, I draped the towel over the sheets and lay down. He climbed over me instantly, entering me swiftly, and we both groaned in unison.

“I’ve missed you so much, beautiful,” he said, stilling once he was inside of me and brushing back the sweaty hair on my forehead. He pumped into me, short jagged presses as he spoke. “Can’t go so long without you.” He kissed my nose and balanced back on an elbow to continue the sharp pulsing. “Why is Chicago so far away?”

With that I laughed, jostling him inside me, and his eyes widened at the pressure. We didn’t speak after that. He took what he needed, filling me again, before collapsing on top of me.

“Edie…” he said my name, so serious, so hesitant, but when I looked at him, he only smiled, one side of his lip curling upward. Whatever he was going to say, he changed his mind, but I worried he could read my thoughts. Because my mind said, I love you, Tommy Carrigan.

13

Leather and More Lies

We spent two wonderful days exploring the city, a city I loved and had lived in all my life, but didn’t know half as well as him. He’d been here before, on tour, and I remembered seeing him at that club back when I was in high school.

“I bet you were a feisty one,” he teased as we talked about that night. “You should have introduced yourself.”

“You wouldn’t have noticed me. In fact, you didn’t.” I teased in return, recalling dancing in front of the stage, back in the days when I did dance. Tommy’s voice washed over me, and I remember thinking this man is going to be a star someday. And he was.

He took me to an underground jazz club on Saturday, where we danced like we did the night before I left Hawaii. The next day we went to the Athletic Club for lunch and looked out at the cold lake, chunks of frozen wake floating on the surface. We even went ice skating at Millennium Park, although I think he was more comfortable on his own two feet instead of blades. The city was alive for me with Tommy at my side, and I wondered once again how much I’d missed in life, while I’d been waiting for him.

On Monday, I had to work. Hartcore Manufacturing was near the airport, although the warehouse was downtown. There had been talks of moving it out of the city, but the incentive to keep the city property kept increasing. I could have driven Tommy to the airport, but he told me it was out of my way as it was past my office. We parted ways when he was picked up by an Uber.

“Not goodbye,” he said, as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

“Not goodbye,” I repeated, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

Once at work, I fired-up my computer. With the early hour, I decided to sneak a peek at social media. To the right, in the headlines, was an image I couldn’t ignore. My eyes gravitated to it instantly. My finger shook as I clicked on the picture. An article instantly popped up, filling my screen with details of Tommy Carrigan and another woman.

Have Lawson Colt and Deanna Kaye decided to reunite?

The headline startled me, and I stared at the word.

Reunite.

My eyes roamed the article.

Seen here in a Chicago airport, rumor has it Lawson Colt and Deanna Kaye planned a secret getaway to spend time in the city where they met. Sources close to the former fashion model tell us she still loves him after all these years. Lawson’s people refused to comment. The former lead guitarist for both Chrome Teardrops and Colt45 has remained single ever since the couple split fifteen years ago. Maybe first loves never die, as Colt once bellowed in his infamous song, ‘Loved Nevermore.’