AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This life no longer suits you.” I don’t move my hand and yet I pull that angry predator out of Dylan inch by squirrely inch. “I get a feeling this life has never suited you. You know how on the boat today you mom forgave you for not coming home?”
“Yes.”
“How did that make you feel?” I pull the guilt into my hand and I capture it. I can almost see it squirming in my palm all, slick and whiny and entitled. I close my fingers into a fist. What a fucking asshole his guilt is. He doesn’t need this wound anymore. He needs to work on healing and get on with it.
“Sad.”
“She forgave you,” I say.
“I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Tell me that you could have stayed.” I lean forward, run my other hand across his face, a finger across his full lips. I kiss him. This man – this delicious man. “Tell me you could stay after what happened with Dixie.”
“You don’t know the worst of it.”
“I do, Dylan.” I slide my hand over his hard dick and he moans. I straddle his thighs, circle his cock with my hand, and lightly run my fist up and down it. “Lighthouse might have a huge congregation, but at the end of the day it’s a relatively small, close-knit community. People talk.”
“Becky?”
I nod. “And others.”
“Do you think I’m an asshole?”
“No. I think you are deserving. I think you are kind. I think you are a bright star on a dark winter night.”
“Really?” His eyes are dark with lust and something else – I’m not sure what.
“Look, Dylan.” I stop stroking his cock and move my core over his. I hold my closed fist in the air and open it.
“What?”
“Remember when you asked me to wish you good luck at the game in Chicago when we met?”
“I do.”
“This is your guilt. Here. In my hand. It’s no longer in you. We’re letting it go. Releasing it to the wild where it can stalk about, grumble that no one understands it anymore. This guilt is no longer yours. Let’s wish it good luck and kiss it goodbye.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I say a silent prayer.
‘Dear God, take Dylan McAlister’s guilt. He’s carried it long enough. It’s time for him to heal. Thank you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.’
“What will I do without it?” he asks as I center my core over his beautiful cock and lower myself onto his hardness. He moans.
I lean forward and fuck him. “Positive things, Dylan. We can work on mantras. ‘I am enough.’ ‘I am forgiven.’ ‘I am calm.’ ‘I am strength.’ ‘I am respect.’ Say the words, Dylan. Say them as you fuck me.”
He says them. “I am strength. I am calm.” He turns me over. He’s on top of me now, staring down into my eyes with a fierceness. “I am forgiven. I am enough,” he says and thrusts into me harder.
“You are.” I wrap my legs around his waist as he penetrates me deep and deeper. He says the words over and over as he fucks me and on the fourteenth or fortieth time, I know he believes them. There’s something different in his touch, in the tone of his voice. It’s clearer. “Evie. Evie!” He climaxes, groaning, chest slick with sweat.
He owns his pain instead of his pain owning him. I know in my bones, that bent, battered, Dylan has broken through.
My beautiful, broken man is finally healing.
***
17
