Oh, well...I'm not going to argue. Besides, my tongue practically slides down my throat when Emily pushes her dress to her feet, so I'm not in much of a talking mood. She's standing there in nothing but a strapless black, lace bra, matching black lace panties and mile high fuck-me shoes.
"Please don't take those shoes off," I beg her as my eyes try to roam every inch of her body.
She grins at me and saunters forward. "Funny man," she says as she works at my belt and pants.
I frame her face with my hands and kiss her. She makes quick work of my pants and is sliding the zipper down. She reaches in and takes a hold of me and I surprise the shit out of myself when a long, low moan pours out of me. My body has never been such a slave to someone's touch before.
I don't mean to but my hips thrust into her hand, demanding more. Her soft hands have the power to command anything they want from me. A thought that scares and humbles me all at once.
I pull away from her kiss and start to slide my hands down to her breasts. She actually grabs my hands and turns me toward the bed. When I feel the edge hit the back of my legs, she softly pushes me down until I'm sitting.
Emily swiftly pulls off her bra, and pushes her underwear down her legs. She gracefully steps out of them, leaving her heels on at my request.
My dick is so hard right now, I'm afraid it might break.
Climbing on top of me, Emily straddles my hips. She rubs her softness on my erection, which is fully exposed outside of my pants. My hands involuntarily grip her hips...hard enough it will probably bruise...and I clench my teeth, trying to maintain some control. I slowly ease the pressure of my fingers.
Emily rises on her knees so her face looms over me. She brings her lips down on top of mine in a kiss that slings lust all the way from my mouth to my hips. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck, melding her face to mine. Neither one of us comes up for air and I use the opportunity to run my hands up her calves, her thighs, her back...and back down again.
Suddenly, Emily pushes back from me and stands up. She lays her hands on my chest, just staring at me. Her eyes are dark, smoldering. Her tongue peeps out and runs wickedly across her lower lips. Then she drags her gaze down, down, down and stares at me.
I reach to her to pull her down for another kiss but she practically knocks my hands away as she drops to her knees in front of me. She looks up at me, coyly almost, as she takes me in her hands again. My hips move --independent bastards --and she's stroking me gently.
And then my vision dims when she bends over and takes me in her mouth.
Soft...wet...magical.
My hands hold Emily's head lightly. I let her set the pace and I don't push her to give me anything she doesn't want to give. The fact that she is here, bent over my lap with her silky hair floating across my exposed skin, is a fucking wet dream.
She's not experienced, but she is oh, so unbelievably sweet and adventurous. Her mouth feels like a satin fist as she pulls me deeper and deeper in. Her sharp nails are sunk into my thighs right now and I'm not going to be surprised if she draws blood. I don't give a fuck because this is one of the most amazing feelings ever and I don't want her to stop. Except, I'll blow so fast and hard in her mouth if she doesn't slow down a bit and I want inside of her too bad to let that happen.
I gently pull her off me and she actually fucking whimpers at the loss. That right there almost has me losing it.
I stand up, pulling Emily along with me. I push her gently back to the bed and tear the rest of my clothes off. My baser instincts are telling me to drive into her...to pound my brand into her so there is no doubt that she belongs to me.
Instead, after putting on a condom, I ease slowly into her. She wraps her legs, still wearing those sexy shoes, around my back. I keep my eyes closed and concentrate on the feel of her body. The way her warmth slowly pulls me in deep, and squeezes me rapturously.
I open my ears and listen to the sounds we are making. Both of us are breathing heavy, but Emily is making shorter, raspier breaths. Mine come out in long, choppy waves. Both of us issue staccato groans and I smile when I hear the most delicate whimper come from Emily's lips. I listened to the erotic sounds our bodies make when they come in contact with another.
My pace is slow, measured. Behind the darkness of my eyelids, I try to memorize the feel of every inch of Emily as I slide in. I listen close to her soft moan when I pull back with agonizing deliberation.
Emily's hands on my ass urge me faster but I don't give in. I keep it lazy and methodical. I build us up tortuously. I can feel Emily is close, and I can even feel the rumbling of my own orgasm starting. My body practically demands to start pounding but I don't. This exercise in fucking civility is going to kill me but I'm going to keep it slow until the end.
"More," Emily pleads.
"No," I tell her. And I go slower yet.
Somehow, our fingers become laced together. I open my eyes briefly to see them clasped together beside our heads. Our knuckles are white and Emily's nails are dug into the back of my hand. Again, I could care less if she draws blood because it feels so fucking good.
I don't pick up my overall pace but on my next push in, I go a little harder...a little deeper. Emily cries out at the sudden change.
I do it again, and her cry echoes once more.
The third time, I slam in and watch as Emily fractures apart. My name bursts out in a husky shout and her upper back arches off the bed. I can feel her wet, warmth gripping me tightly as I make one more thrust and then I'm shooting inside of her, my face buried in her neck.
My orgasm continues on and on, my hips involuntarily knocking against her pelvis with each spurt.
Finally, I'm drained and I collapse on top of her. I know she has to be suffocating but I can't even move, so deep is the post orgasmic paralysis I'm feeling.
I have no clue what that slow dance of passion was.
I think many women would coin that to be "love making".
There wasn't love involved but it was without a doubt the most sexually charged, softly passionate experience of my existence.
I know I've never come harder in my life.
I know I will probably never replicate that moment again. Ever.
I know that Emily has just become so much more to me than she was just this side of ten minutes ago.
CHAPTER 26
Emily
By some unspoken agreement, Nix has stayed at my apartment every night this week. He plays my body in the most delicious of ways and it feels true and thoroughly used. It's a feeling I could get used to.
There has been yet another subtle shift in our relationship.
And yes...there is now a relationship.
Despite the earlier lines in the sand that we drew, we have progressed to something different. I just don't know what it is. It's fuzzy and not easily definable, and it feels slightly out of reach.
Nix and I don't go out on dates. We don't do things that normal couples do. I go to school, he works, and at the end of the day, we come together in a fit of blazing passion. I now know Nix's body as well, if not better, than my own.
But it's not just sex between us. After we both empty ourselves, Nix will hold me and we'll talk about everything and nothing. I've told Nix all about my childhood and he reciprocated. He's told me more about his time in the Marine Corps, mostly about his days stationed at Camp Lejeune. It seems he was quite the party animal back then.
Gone is the snarly, closed off Nix Caldwell. In his place is a different man. He hasn't completely opened up but smiles come more easily to his face and he seems to be a little lighter of spirit. I'm not vain enough to think I've single-handedly caused this change in Nix. He's proven already to himself and the world that he effectuates his own change. From what little bit he's told me of his past, he clearly is a man that can accomplish any feat he deems necessary.
But I do like to think I am a little bit of the reason he smiles more. And I want to make it my mission to create a permanent smile on h
is face. I don't want him to ever be scared, or furious, or angry again. I want him to only know the good and happy parts of life.
I'm such a girl.
It's Saturday morning and I'm lying in Nix's bed for the first time all week. The Rangers are out of town again so we stayed here last night. We watched the dumbest movie I've ever seen--The Human Centipede--which was not only stupid, but frighteningly grotesque.
Even its blend of horror and low budget effects couldn't make my eyes stay open. I fell asleep with my head in Nix's lap. He woke me up with the most luscious of kisses when the ending credits were rolling.
Before I knew it, both of us were stripped out of our clothes and naked on the couch. After contorting our bodies in a variety of orgasm inducing positions, Nix finally carried my naked body back to his bedroom where we both collapsed in sleep.
I can now hear Nix banging around in the kitchen and I know he's making breakfast for us. As much as I would love to lay here and have him serve me in bed, I'd rather spend the time watching him cook and talking to him.
I slip out of bed and walk over to his dresser where I've seen him pull out t-shirts before. I don't think he'll mind if I borrow one of his. In fact, he admitted to me once that the first night I slept over when he picked me up from the nightclub, the image of me in his t-shirt the next day had really turned him on.
Maybe I could go for a repeat performance this morning.
I open the drawer and reach in to grab the first t-shirt on top. My fingers brush against something that feels both hard and soft to my senses. Pulling the t-shirt out, I see a black velvet box. It's clearly not a female jewelry box, which was my first thought. Rather, it's thicker and it's square. There is a tiny latch on the front.
My curiosity gets the better of me. I suddenly want to see what type of jewelry Nix Caldwell favors. Because in a million years, I cannot imagine the man ever wearing adornments other than his watch.
Flipping the latch, I pull the top back and my breath catches.
Lying on a platform of black velvet is a blue and white ribbon with a medal in the shape of a cross attached. I know this is a military decoration but I don't know its significance. I wish I had my iPhone in here but it's laying out in the living room. Otherwise I'd just GTS.
Then I see Nix's phone on the bedside table and I grab for it before my conscience can dictate otherwise. I quickly Google "military medals" and click on the "images" tab.
Right away I find that I'm holding the Navy Cross in my hand. I read a Wikipedia link that says it's awarded for extraordinary heroism while engaged in action against an enemy of the United States.
I set Nix's phone aside and pick the medal back up. I stroke my fingers down the metal surface and I wonder what happened in Afghanistan that warranted Nix to be awarded this.
And why is it shoved in the bottom of his t-shirt drawer?
There is a piece of paper folded into the top of the case and I open it up. It starts, "The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Nixon Henry Caldwell, Sergeant, United States Marine Corps, Team Leader, 2d Platoon, Bravo Company, MARSOC, FIRST Marine Division FMF in support of Operation ENDURING FREEDOM...
"What are you doing with that?" I hear Nix snarl from the doorway and I jump sky high he scares me so bad.
He's staring at me with blazing ferocity in his eyes. His fists are clenched and his jaw muscles on both sides are ticking. He's not happy and I'm so busted.
I stand up and start stammering. "I'm sorry. I was getting a t-shirt to wear from your drawer and I saw this there. I was just...being nosy I guess." I'm holding the medal in one hand and the paper in the other.
Expecting my little "nosy" confession to lighten Nix's mood, I give him a small, shameful smile. He's not impressed or moved. Instead, he stomps over to me and rips the medal and document out of my hand. Opening the same drawer I found it in, Nix throws them both in and slams it shut, causing the mirror on top to rattle heavily.
He spins around on me. "Do not go through my things again. Ever."
"I'm sorry, Nix. I won't."
Some of the tension leaves his shoulders but I clearly don't know how to keep my mouth shut for I ask, "What was the medal for?"
Wrong move.
His spine stiffens again and he wheels on me. "Jesus Christ, Emily. Don't you know how to mind your own fucking business?"
I shrink back from his words. No one has ever spoken to me with such hateful menace before. And he's not finished. He puts both hands on top of his head and looks up at the ceiling.
"FUCK!" he yells to no one in particular.
It's at this point I realize that I'm completely naked, never having put the t-shirt on that I borrowed. I quickly pull it over my head because I'm feeling vulnerable under the glare of his acrimony.
I reach out tentatively to him and I feel like I'm dealing with a wild animal. "I'm so sorry..."
He takes a step back from me, fury and rage still masking his face. He holds his hands out to me in the universal sign of "stay the hell away from me".
"I just...wanted to know a bit more about you...I thought...the medal had something to do with your injuries."
Again...wrong move. I apparently don't know how to just shut the fuck up.
If I thought Nix was enraged before, I had been sorely mistaken. His face mottles red and I swear his pupils have flames in them. He lunges toward me and grabs my upper arm. It's not painful but it's not comfortable either.
He marches me to his bedroom door and with his words chopped and shaky, he says, "This isn't going to work, Emily. I need you to leave."
I dig my heels into the carpet. Oh, hell no I'm not leaving.
"Wait, Nix. I'm sorry. I'll back off. You don't have to tell me anything about what happened there."
And then the dam bursts opened. "Fuck you, Emily. You don't just get to rip this shit open and then say you're sorry. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? I should have known better than to trust you. I thought you respected my privacy, but you're fucking like everyone else. You want to dig, and poke, and prod, and figure out what demons make my world go round. Well, FUCK YOU EMILY! I don't need this shit and I don't need you. Now GET OUT and don't ever contact me again!"
I am stunned speechless. I don't know what to say and I am devastated by the pain and hate in his words. I've crossed an unforgivable line with Nix and I can't take it back.
But I try one more time, "Please, Nix. I'm sorry--"
He's having none of it. He pushes me out of his bedroom door and just says, "You got five minutes to get the fuck out of my house or I'll throw your naked ass out of here. Don't push me, Emily."
Then he slams the door in my face.
I stand there for just a second before a sob tears out of my throat. I clap my hand over my mouth and spin from the door so Nix doesn't hear it. I won't give him that luxury...to know that he hurt me that badly.
I all but stumble to the living room as the tears are now pouring down my face. I'm not even sure how I get dressed but I do. As I'm slipping my shoes on, I become aware that Harley is there, nudging me with this nose. He's trying to get my attention and I ignore him. Finally, he gives a whine and I stop to look at his soulful face. Grief courses through me and I drop to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck. Burying my face in his soft fur, I let loose with wracking sobs. I have a sharp pain in the center of my chest and I'm sure it's my heart breaking.
Finally, I pull back and I'm embarrassed to see Nix standing in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me weep into Harley's neck. His face is cold and hard but I see something flicker there as he watches us.
Is he here to apologize? To beg me to stay?
I'll accept. I'll say yes.
"Harley...come," he calls. And no matter how heartbroken I am, Harley's loyalty is to Nix...as it should be. He turns from me and pads over to his master, pushing his head into Nix's hand. I notice Nix doesn't bother to pet Harley and that tells me a lot.
br /> Nix turns his back on me and walks back to his bedroom, softly shutting the door. I would have preferred him to slam it because that would tell me he is still being controlled by anger. Instead, I'm hearing soft acceptance of the situation and that slices deeper than his rage.
I gather the rest of my things and leave the apartment, knowing that my life will not be the same again.
CHAPTER 27
Nix
2 weeks later...
I boot the laptop up and grab a beer while I wait. Harley is curled up at my feet.
We've been holed up in this dingy hotel in the town of Oleny, Illinois for two days. It's the last leg of our journey from California. I've been stalling, not quite ready to head back to reality. But tomorrow...for sure...I'm going back home to New Jersey.
Opening Outlook, I take a long swallow of beer. I need to send an email and it will make one person very happy, and hopefully it will work out for two more people as well.
I need to think about what I'm going to say, so I stall by reading some email exchanges I've had over the past few weeks.
I burn with a little shame and a whole lot of guilt when I read the first one from Linc.
Date: November 10, 2012 8:17 a.m.
To: Nix Caldwell [
[email protected]]
From: Linc Caldwell [
[email protected]]
Re: Happy Birthday Asshole!
Nix: What the fuck dude? You take off without telling me where you're going? It's a good thing you at least let dad know you were traveling or I would so kick your ass. You have some explaining to do. I don't know what happened between you and Emily but Ryan is extremely pissed at you. If it's any consolation, I know I told you not to hurt her, and you clearly did, but I know you didn't do it intentionally. You're not that type of man. I hope you get your shit worked out. Miss you buddy.
Oh, and Happy Marine Corps Birthday!
Semper Fi
Linc
Yes, I'm riddled with guilt and shame. I didn't intentionally mean to hurt Emily the way I did. I was so angry, so afraid of her finding out the truth about me, that I had absolutely no control over my words. I never, in a million years, would try to hurt her, but I hurt her all the same. And I hate myself for it.