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IAIN: Atta boy. I’ll tell Holland you said goodnight.
I laughed.
And thankfully, it was enough to lighten my mood a little. To ease the tension in my shoulders and remind me that I was good now. I had AJ with me, sitting next to me in the backseat, our hands still intertwined.
I had yet to explain a thing to her, but she trusted that I was telling her the truth nonetheless, and I was beyond grateful for that, because it had been all of three hours tonight that I didn’t feel like I had her. Her friendship or whatever else.
Three hours and I couldn’t take it.
It made it easier to swallow the fact that I was going to tell her something I’d never told anyone—not even Iain during one of our thousands of mindless, hammered nights in college. Even when my brain was annihilated, blackout drunk, it had never come out.
Maybe because I was that ashamed. Or because it was just too difficult to explain.
I was actually grateful when AJ spoke up first.
We were stuck in traffic for a little, and at a random red light, she said, “I know it has to do with Jeannie.”
Her voice was soft, almost sleepy. Combined with the way she ran her thumb over the back of my hand, it kind of made me feel that way too. Tired and relaxed as I nodded in reply.
“She never wanted me.”
AJ was silent for a little, and I could feel her gaze on me as I stared ahead at the driver in front of me, the traffic. The radio was on, but whether or not it was, I didn’t really think about the fact that some stranger was here, potentially listening to our conversation. I didn’t think he was, but AJ lowered her voice to a whisper nonetheless.
“She never wanted to get pregnant?” she asked. I shook my head.
“She was never pregnant with me. I didn’t meet her till I was nine.”
AJ froze next to me as something strange happened in my lungs. It felt like they filled with air.
I wasn’t sure how many seconds passed before I turned to look at AJ, but I knew she was still wearing the same facial expression as that first second she processed my words, because it was still paralyzed on something blank. Stunned. The only movement came in the shock flickering in her eyes, like little fish darting under a frozen lake.
Her mouth opened and shut without producing any words, and after awhile, she just nodded and squeezed my hand, deciding to wait till we were alone. Just the two of us.
And by the time we were home, she had shifted for me. The way she did as my assistant, she processed the information, no matter how shocking, and went straight to problem-solving. In this case, problem-solving meant being calm and just staying near me, gauging how I felt, and not rushing me. Just letting me talk once I found the words.
I knew I was going to talk about this tonight, but I’d underestimated the amount of time it’d take for me to feel ready.
Upon getting home, we’d hung out in the kitchen first. Hydrated, talked about the party. Kissed.
She let my hands wander again, examining every inch of her dress like I’d wanted to, and shaking my head at goddamn good she looked.
When I suggested we change into more comfortable clothing, she gave me a knowing smirk but an innocent, “Sure,” and as I followed her upstairs to my bedroom, I watched her slowly undress, till she was walking ass naked down my hall, so fucking sexy and at the same time, adorably clueless as to where any of my light switches were.
I let it stay dark as I watched her climb onto my bed, stretching out that perfect, moonlit body of hers on my sheets, writhing a little bit and getting me fully hard by the time I climbed on top of her.
I let the weight of my cock fall between her thighs as I kissed her, and in the black of the night, I let myself simply feel what she did to me. The way she put out the fire in my veins with just the sweet taste of her lips, and the way she melted me at her touch with just her delicate hand wrapped around my base, gently guiding me between her legs.
I never thought I could handle fucking this woman slowly. Taking my time. But when I realized slow strokes brought different sounds out of her, I had all the motivation I needed.
Because fuck me, I loved every one of those perfect goddamn sounds.
The little moans that trickled from her lips and stretched on and on with content. Those feathery soft yet sharp breaths of pleasure that sliced through the air. It was that much more torturous to soak it all in as I moved languidly inside her, rolling my hips, savoring every inch of tightness as I pushed into her wet heat. It was like everything was in slow-motion. Magnified.
I couldn’t quite see the face she was making as she whimpered for more, and I couldn’t see the way her breasts were bouncing against my lips before I caught her nipple in my mouth, but I could imagine based on what I knew of her in my mind, and thinking of all of her perfection as I sank my cock balls-deep inside her was enough to get me high. Drunk off every memory I’d quietly kept of her since day one. Every smile, every laugh. Every sound of her voice. When she was pissed at me, reluctant to laugh. When she was happy, triumphant. Delirious with pleasure.
Five years later, I had tens of thousands of memories of her tucked away for safekeeping, and they all filtered through my mind now as I felt her trembling underneath me, desperately grasping at me the way she did when she was about to come.
I loved this feeling. Knowing she needed me. Couldn’t get close enough to me.
