"I'm going to make love to you slowly now, sweet girl. Take that dress off for me."
I watch a fluttering breath come out of her lips and she sits up to disrobe. I shimmy out of my pants and whip my shirt over my head. Grabbing a condom, I tear the packet open and roll it over me. I'm so hard, I feel like I might burst the second I get inside of her, and maybe I'll just let myself go and do just that.
Crawling onto the bed, I settle on top of her to gather her close. I wrap my arms all the way under her, mashing her chest into mine. Resting my face in the crook of her neck, I swivel my hips so that the head of my cock finds its way home. I give a single push and slip right in, sucking air through my teeth over the rapturous feeling.
I move within her... slowly... lightly kissing her neck. I pull my face up once to look at her, and her eyes are closed, her lip stuck between her teeth, which is a look I adore. With a sudden move, I roll over and watch her eyes fly open when she finds herself on top of me.
"I know you can't say the words, Rowan... so show me how you feel."
She stares at me for a moment, her hands resting lightly on my stomach. I watch her... almost daring her to deny what we have between us.
She never says a word but she starts moving her hips, pushing with her thighs to move up and down on my length. My hands come up to grab her hips and help her along, but she pushes them away. Because she wants to do this... for me. She wants to give me something, since she can't give me exactly what I want.
I accept it, because it's all I can do. I watch her the entire time, even as her eyes close as she gives into her urges. She builds even faster than I do and she cries out as she comes again. The look on her face is pained from the pleasure, and that's all it takes for me to follow her.
Because let's face it.
I'd follow her anywhere.
The trip back to JFK seemed to take forever. I was lost in my own thoughts, staring blankly out the window. Flynn seemed to understand that maybe I needed a little time to come to an acceptance of his feelings, and maybe my own.
And while I do accept how Flynn feels about me... I mean, I truly understand that he loves me; I just have no fucking clue how to feel about him.
This is happening so fast now, and I have all these feelings of insecurity and a lack of self-worth assaulting me.
The memories of my parents plague me like they never have. I realize now that I have pushed them and the hurt deep inside of me, and now it's bubbling up like a fountain of lava. It's hot and it burns, threatening to engulf me in painful flames.
I know, in my heart, that I care for Flynn. Hell, as a friend, I love him. But that's because I know our friendship worked. It wasn't perfect, but it was as damn close as it could be. It was safe, and there were boundaries, and at the end of the day, I knew he'd be there for me.
But now... I don't know. There's something that is causing me to doubt everything. I don't need a shrink to tell me that my parents' lack of love and attention warped my perception of what a healthy, loving relationship could be. Add into that Flynn and I have upped the level of intimacy between us, and it exposes the nerve center of my heart. It has opened it wide and I'm vulnerable to rejection, loss, and pain.
In just a few short days, while our relationship progressed forward, it also became unstable in my mind, and now I have so much more to lose.
I'm terrified of being hurt again. I was able to claw myself out of my misery after I left Texas. I've done it once and it was the hardest thing I ever did in my life.
I don't know if I have it in me to do it again.
I don't know that I would survive Flynn hurting me.
We open the door to the apartment and Capone comes barreling out of my bedroom and down the hall to greet us. He almost knocks me flat on my ass when he launches himself at my chest. Fil had stayed over at our apartment while we were gone and cared for him, and while I was scared silly to leave my baby, he seems to be just fine.
After his mandatory licks to my face, he turns from me and jumps on Flynn, who holds him in a big bear hug, and buries his face in his fur. My heart skips a beat as I realize just how much we've become ingrained in each other's lives.
Flynn raises his head and looks at me over Capone's shoulder, and the look is so filled with love, it makes me feel like there is a cinder block on my chest.
Standing up, I walk into the kitchen, immediately seeing a note from Fil.
Rowan/Flynn,
Capone was a good boy while you were gone. However, I didn't realize how big his crap would be. You owe me for having to pick that shit up.
Later.
F
Typical Fil. Straight and to the point. I need to make sure I hook up with her soon to give her the gift that we bought for her in St. Thomas before we left.
I feel Flynn's arms wrap around me as he looks over my shoulder at the note. "What's that?"
I hold it up for him to read and then step quickly out of his arms. He looks confused and it tears my heart up that I'm doing that to him. Turning away, I open the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water.
"I think I'll get started on laundry since you have to go back to work tomorrow," I say in an effort to fill the silence.
Stepping up to me again, Flynn cups me around the back of the head. His eyes are warm and his voice filled with sensuality. "Or, we could fool around a little. A welcome home present to ourselves."
God, I hate myself but my body involuntarily pulls out of his touch and I turn my back on him. "I really should get this started. There's a lot of do."
Reaching out, Flynn grabs my wrist, his brow furrowed. "What's going on, Rowan?"
"Nothing," I say like he's crazy for thinking so. "I just want to get this stuff done so we can relax."
"Then why won't you look at me? Why won't you let me touch you?" His words are cautious... non-threatening. Like he's dealing with a wild, caged animal.
"I don't know what you mean," I insist.
Flynn isn't going to let it go. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me, leaning down for a kiss. He's daring me to pull away and yet, that's exactly what I do.
He cocks his eyebrow at me, as if to say, See... I knew something was wrong.
"What?" I ask, trying to sound oblivious to his meaning. "There's nothing wrong. Honestly... I just want to get--"
"Rowan!" he shouts and my eyes snap to his with attention. I've never heard Flynn yell before.
"What... is... wrong?" he grits out.
My eyes dart left and right, seeking a way to escape... this room, this man, this fucked-up mess. When I look back to him, his eyes are patient, even though he just shouted to get my attention three seconds ago.
Taking a deep breath, I sigh out my fear. "I don't know. I'm scared."
He starts to walk toward me, his face awash with sympathy. He stretches his arms out. "You don't have to be afraid. No pressure, right?"
I step back, not letting him try to comfort me. It will make this even more confusing because even though I'm scared shitless over what is happening, I find myself yearning to accept what he's offering. Shaking my head in denial, I say, "I don't think I can do this."
Flynn stops his forward progress, his arms falling to his sides. "Do what?" he asks cautiously.
"A relationship with you. It's moving too fast, and I'm afraid."
Raking his hand through his hair in frustration, he says, "I don't understand. I told you I wouldn't pressure you. I love you, but I'm not asking for it in return."
"But that's just it," I practically whine. "You do expect it. I see it in your eyes. I see I'm tearing you up every time I don't reciprocate. It's too much... your expectations."
"So what do you want me to do, Rowan?" His voice is angry and tired all at the same time. "Do you want me to just pretend I don't love you? Do you want me to just fuck you and keep all the feeling out of it?"
No, of course I don't want that, but he's making the point that I've known to be true deep down inside. There's no wa
y for our sexual relationship to continue because it pulls me in too deep. That is what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of losing myself completely to love... and taking my eyes off the danger that lurks below it all. I'm afraid I'll get careless and then when I'm least expecting it, I'll get slapped down by it all.
I'm panicking. I get it... but I can't stop being overwhelmed by this feeling.
"I think we need to go back to being friends."
Flynn doesn't even hesitate... doesn't even consider my request. "Not going to fucking happen."
"What? Just like that? It's 'not going to fucking happen'? You can't make me go forward," I say angrily, completely blown away by his dismissive attitude.
"And you can't make me go back," he says quietly and with authority.
I feel like I'm spinning out of control because none of this is going right. "It's not fair," I shout.
"What's not fair?"
"You knew," I point at him with accusation. "You knew I didn't want to ruin the friendship. You knew and you still pushed me into this."
Flynn's face mottles red and he takes a step toward me, getting right in my face. "That's bullshit, Rowan, and you know it. I wasn't the one that forced your tongue down my throat or your hand on my cock. You went willingly into my bed and fucking enjoyed every orgasm I gave you. You can lie about your feelings all you want but don't say I forced you to do anything."
His chest is heaving in anger as he steps back, staring me down. I lower my eyes to the floor, unsure of what to do. "So, where do we go from here?"
I pray he has the answer because I'm all out of solutions.
"There's one thing you were right about, Rowan." His voice is so soft, I strain to hear it. "Once you take that step toward the intimacy we had... once that goes to shit... there is no going back. The friendship can't survive that type of hurt."
Oh, God, those words hurt. I don't know if they are true or if Flynn is reacting in anger. He turns his back on me, walks down the hall, and I hear his bedroom door shut softly.
I stand there for a moment, drowning in sorrow. Capone comes up to me and nudges my hand. Absently rubbing his head, I try to think of a way I can salvage things. I can't lose my friendship with Flynn. He's too important. He's absolutely essential. If we just slow down, take a step back... I can figure this out.
Needing to keep busy, I put our luggage in the kitchen and sort through the clothes. After I start a load, I open the refrigerator and ponder what to make for dinner. Maybe after we eat, we can talk some more. Surely, I can get Flynn to see that maybe we rushed into things. That maybe we need to focus on the friendship.
Even as I think those thoughts, I'm telling myself I'm being ludicrous. There's no way Flynn is going back. I'm not even sure I can go back, but I'm terrified to move forward.
I hear Flynn's door open and my heart starts racing. He walks into the kitchen and he has his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" I ask, fearful of what he'll say.
"I'm going to go stay the night with Tim. I need some space."
"But you go back to work tomorrow. I won't see you for three days." That seems like such a lame thing to say, because I've gone plenty of times without seeing Flynn for three days. Now, though... it seems like an eternity.
"Yeah... listen... I'm going to stay with Tim for a while. I just talked to him and he's cool with me crashing there."
Panic starts to seize me as I see Flynn fading before my eyes. "No," I plead. "You don't have to go. We can talk this through. You'll see... we can make this work."
"You mean we can just be friends and make it work, right?"
"Well, yes... if you just give it a chance, I'm sure we can pick back up."
"Yeah... that's not going to work for me, Rowan. I'm an all or nothing sort of guy. I can't just fall in love and then fall back out. Your heart might be hard, but mine's not."
Oh shit that hurt, and the pain in his eyes is unbearable. The thought that I'm running him out of his home causes anguish to lance through me. "No, don't go. I can go. This is your home."
Flynn sighs. "It's your home, too, Rowan. Besides... I'm all packed."
I look at him, not knowing what to say. My friendship with Flynn is going up in flames and I'm powerless to stop it.
He turns away and walks to the front door. Capone stands there and he gives him a rub behind the ears.
"See you, buddy," he says softly and then he's gone.
I stare at the door, willing him to come back. Begging him to come back and push me past my own stupid boundaries. I don't have the strength to do it myself, and I plead to the angels above to make him come back to me.
But the door remains closed.
I walk back to my bedroom and lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Capone crawls up beside me and lays his head on my chest, looking at me with soulful eyes. He can feel my pain.
I hate you, Mom and Dad! See what you made me into!
Tears start coursing down my face, and I'm powerless to stop them. Just as I was powerless to stop this train wreck that is my life. I took the one good thing in my life, and I ruined it.
And while I would love to blame Flynn for putting me in this position, it's my own fear and insecurity that has done it. I'm the only one that has control of that, and apparently, I'm just not strong enough to overcome it.
Turning on my side, I wrap my arms around Capone. I know I need to figure out my next move. I have a few days and a little money saved up. I know I can start over again... somewhere new and fresh. Maybe a different state.
Yes, all of this seems plausible as I've started my life over before--why not again?
Except... the thought of leaving... of not having Flynn?
Well, that just fucking destroys me.
"Full-house, baby! Read 'em and weep."
I watch, disgusted, as Tim throws down his cards on the table and sweeps his winnings up.
Looking at my pathetic pair of sevens, I throw my cards facedown and say, "I'm done."
"Come on, man. Don't be a sore loser," Tim teases and the rest of the guys start laughing.
Well, I am a sore loser, fuck you very much.
I'm fucking sore as hell that I've lost Rowan and it's put me in a pisser of a mood. I let my anger ride me hard for the first few days back to work, so much so that I wasn't paying attention during an apartment fire and almost had a burning piece of sheet rock smack me down.
That earned me a good ass chewing from the Chief, which only goes to prove he cares, right?
Motherfucker!
To make matters worse, Rowan kept texting me. I'm not sure exactly what she wants, because she never comes out and says it, but she's begged me to come home when I get off shift. I've been non-committal and just asked that she give me space.
I haven't heard from her in over twenty-four hours, and for all I know, she's moved out of the apartment.
My anger has dissipated some but it's still there. I'm pissed at Rowan for not having the guts to be stronger, but I'm more pissed at her parents for making her this way. If her dad were standing in front of me, I'd throttle him. I've been thinking that over and over for the past three days.
Which gave me the most fucked-up idea I've ever concocted.
As if the stars were aligning, my phone rings and I see it's Buzz.
I connect and don't bother with pleasantries. "Did you find what I need?"
"Hello to you too, buddy. But yeah, I got the information."
"Let me have it."
"Okay, seems like the esteemed Judge Cleeden is medically retired. He apparently had a pretty bad stroke and is in a rest home. Word is he was a tough old goat... really hard on crime, but then I think most judges in Texas want to hang you for mugging little old ladies." He laughs over his joke but I don't have time for it.
"What else?"
"Well, it appears he and his wife, Susan Cleeden, divorced two years ago. She's actually remarried now to Peter Grantham, and he owns a construction company in Da
llas."
"Addresses?" I say.
"Geez... you're in a mood."
"Yeah, I am, and you don't want to see it turn darker. Just give me the addresses."
After I take down the information from Buzz, I disconnect and head to the Chief's office. I have four days off starting tomorrow but I might need another day or two. It seems I'm making a trip to Texas.
Well, the trip to visit John Cleedin was a bust. I got admittance to visit him easy enough but I left wholly unsatisfied. My dreams of punching him in the face evaporated after I saw the shriveled old man lying in the hospital bed. The nurses assured me his mind was still good, but he just couldn't communicate well. Once I realized I wouldn't be getting physical satisfaction, I did get a measure of joy by sitting in a chair by his bed and telling him about his daughter, knowing he couldn't stop me.
I told him all the ways that she proved him wrong, and how strong and wonderful she turned out, despite his best efforts to fuck her up. There was no way I'd ever let him know that he left her with unimaginable insecurity, because I'm still banking on the fact that she'll overcome that one day.
Before I left, I asked if there was anything else he wanted to know. He did nothing but glare at me, his body shaking, and he said "Fuck you" as a pool of saliva spilled out of his mouth.
I reached over, took the towel draped across his chest, and carefully wiped his face. I knew he'd hate being cared for that way, a reminder of how weak and powerless he was now, and I smiled at him the entire time.
I turned without a word and left.
Now I walk up to Susan and Peter Grantham's home. It's a modest ranch house outside of Dallas. There are two vehicles in the driveway, one a truck that has Grantham Construction on the side.
I ring the doorbell and hear a booming bark near the door. It opens and a man of about fifty is standing there. He's tall, well built, and tanned from hours out in the sun. He looks at me pleasantly while he holds a dog back by its collar that is straining to see who has come to visit.
I look at the dog and I'm almost knocked backward to see it's a Bernese Mountain Dog. I'm so stunned in fact, I can't think of anything to say.
"Can I help you?" the man asks.
I raise my eyes to his. "Yes... I'm looking for Susan Grantham. Is she here?"
The look on his face remains pleasant but he's not about to let me in his home. "She is. Can I ask what this is about?"