The Upside of Falling

  “Spread your legs.”

  She’s still panting, but they fall open on my command. I slip inside her, her hands squeezing mine with every inch I take until I’m fully inside, her walls narrow, my cock aching, throbbing.

  “Look at me, Rory.” Her eyes open, those greens connecting with my browns, sweet and innocent mixing with my dark and battered.

  I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her, letting the world melt around us, the passion consume us. My hips thrust in and out, our hands never let go, and our tongues get lost in each other.

  It’s sensual, sexy, rough with the pace my hips are going, but also sweet because of the addictive sounds escaping her.

  I delve into her mouth even more, not letting up, the burning need I have to consume her completely owning me.

  I pump faster, my balls smacking against her, her aroused cries filling the silence, until I feel her walls start to clamp down on my cock, her mouth falling open even more.

  “Oh God, Colby, oh . . . I’m going to come.”

  “Fucking . . . come,” I grunt out as she digs her nails into the backs of my hands, her screams heedless of who can hear, her body thrashing, her hips working my cock, seeking out the end of her orgasm just as mine rips through me.

  Eyes squeezed shut, I still inside her, my dick pulsing as I come hard with her pussy still clenching around my cock.

  Never has it been like this. Never have I felt this consumed, this taken by a woman.

  Opening my eyes, I glance at her and see the sweetest of smiles crossing her face. I lean down and press a kiss to her lips, lingering, molding our mouths but keeping the kisses simple, nothing too aggressive. She reaches up and traces her fingers across my eyebrows down to my chin. On a whispered breath, she says, “Colby . . . that was—”

  “Fucking heaven.” She nods her head, and the look of awe and wonder is something I’ve never seen before. Only her.

  I reluctantly pull away to dispose of the condom, but then I make my way back to the bed where I pull her into my chest. Her giggle sparks something inside my heart, something I’ve kept subdued for years. Pure happiness.

  She makes me truly happy. Rory, this girl, has found my happiness again.

  Not a plane.

  Not an acceptance into flight school.

  Nothing.

  Just Rory, and I’m holding on to this feeling for as long as I can.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  RORY

  I put the paper plates in the trashcan and send Stryder on his way to take the cake to the house to give us some privacy again. We spent the last two hours with his friends, joking around, talking about the pranks they’ve played on each other at the academy, and the good times they’ve shared over the past few years. Colby held on to me the entire time, cradling me against his chest, occasionally pressing kisses against my neck or whispering something in my ear.

  His attention didn’t escape his friends and when they ribbed him, he didn’t care, he just held on to me tighter.

  Colby is in the bathroom when Stryder stops me at the door, cake in his hands. “Thanks for doing this for him, Rory. I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy in a long time.”

  “I’m glad he was okay with having you guys over. And he makes me happy too.”

  He nods his head, looking down at the floor. “I’m glad. You guys were made for each other.”

  “Is everything okay, Stryder?” I know Colby said Stryder didn’t make it into flight school, and I’m wondering if that has anything to do with it. He seems weary.

  “Yeah. I’m good.” But he doesn’t look like he’s good.

  “I’m here for you if you ever need to talk, Stryder.” I press my hand against his shoulder.

  His eyes land on my hand where they linger for a second before pulling away, a hint of pain in his expression. Looking back into the pool house, he says, “Have a good Christmas, Rory and take care of my boy.” With a wink, he heads toward the main house, his powerful body making its way down the sidewalk.

  Confused, I turn back to the room where Colby is washing his hands. When he makes eye contact with me, he motions with his finger for me to come closer. Pushing other thoughts to the side, I shut the door and move across the room and into Colby’s arms. He brings me onto the bed where we lie down, facing each other. He links our hands together and props up his head with his other hand.

  “Thank you for today.”

  “Of course. I’m glad you let me spend it with you.”

  His brow creases. “Why wouldn’t I let you spend it with me?”

  I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles. “Stryder said you like to spend this day alone, reading your book.”

  He looks off to somewhere behind me. “Did he say anything else?”

  I shake my head. “No, just that it’s not your favorite day.” I want so badly for him to open up to me, just give me a little more of him. “Can I ask you what happened?”

  Sighing, he lies flat on his back, looking at the ceiling, his gaze pensive, and his body stiff beside me. I can see the tension starting to pulse inside him, the way his biceps flex, the clench in his jaw, the way he’s turning away from me.

  I don’t want that. I don’t want him to turtle in on himself and then ask me to leave. I don’t want to push too hard, too soon.

  “You know what? Never mind.” I wrap my arm around his waist getting close again. “You don’t have to say anything, let’s just—”

  “My dad died on my birthday.”

  I still.

  Oh God. How awful.

  Caught off guard by his willingness to open up, it takes me a moment to piece together what he just said.

  His dad died . . . on his birthday.

  “Oh Colby, I’m so sorry.”

  He doesn’t move; he doesn’t even flinch when I press a kiss to his jaw.

  “He had mantel-cell lymphoma, he was doing bad for a while, but I never expected for him to pass away on my birthday . . . or to find out that for six months, my mom had been cheating on my dad with his doctor.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart bleeding for the little boy who lost his father; the little boy who had to deal with such hardship. And betrayal.

  “He moved in a week later. I had one week to mourn. My mom got rid of all my dad’s stuff, throwing it into the trash, and moved Ted in immediately.”

  “Ted. Is that . . . is that the guy you talked about in your letters?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s one word, but it holds the weight of the world—the anxiety, the hurt and the pain Colby has experienced is confirmed with that one small word.

  “He was awful. He ruled with an iron fist, literally. Never missed an opportunity to abuse me, mentally and physically.”

  “He hurt you?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes, my inability to get any closer to Colby frustrating me. “What did your mom do?”

  “Nothing. She did absolutely fucking nothing. She needed him, I knew that’s why she latched on because the medical bills wiped us clean and my grandpa could only help for so long. Instead of working, she clung to Ted and his wallet. There was a small point in time where my mom told him he couldn’t hit me anymore but that was short-lived, thank fuck.”

  “What? Why? You wanted to get hit?”

  “It was better than him breaking and ripping apart every last model airplane I built with my dad and grandpa.”

  I . . . I don’t even know what to say to that. My heart shatters right before me, tears falling from my eyes, the image of Colby as a little boy upset over his plane digging an irreparable hole in my heart.

  “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” I kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and work my way to his lips. He holds me there, his hand on the back of my head, seeking comfort.

  When I pull away, I look at him, his eyes full of water, his shame plastered to his face.

  “He ruined my childhood. He tried to make me forget my dad every day. He separated my grandpa from me as much as he could, beat me un
til I blacked out, and taunted me whenever he got the chance.” Colby’s voice shakes. “You’re never going to be a pilot. You’re not good enough. You’re not smart enough. You’re a fucking little bitch without a single hope for a good future.” He pauses. “He tried to break me. He tried to ruin me. He tried desperately to ruin my dreams, but I didn’t let him.”

  I shake my head, more tears spilling. “You’re so strong, Colby. Not many people could turn out the way you did with a background like that. You’re exceptional.”

  “I wanted to prove him wrong. I still need to earn the privilege to fly a fighter.” Colby’s letter registers in my head. His biggest fear, hitting me harder now than before.

  “And you did, so you should be proud of yourself.”

  He slowly nods, wrapping his arm around me again, his hand twirling a strand of my hair, the tension in his body starting to dissipate with every breath he takes.

  “I still have challenges ahead of me. I still need to be chosen to fly a fighter, but I’ll do anything it takes to make that happen. I will show him how his attempt to break me only made me stronger.”

  His strength, his confidence, his energy . . . I have absolutely no idea how he overcame such adversity. I’ve never met someone like him. So . . . awe-inspiring. But his strength is also so sexy. He deserves each moment of glory he will receive in the future. And I want him to know that. I need him, and that need is so strong, it's as if I can't go another moment without him inside me.

  Lifting my body over his, I straddle his lap and take off my shirt, followed by my bra. He moans and then sits up, taking me with him, leaning against the headboard and bringing both of his hands to my breasts where he starts to massage them. I grip his face and place my mouth on his, demanding, the need to forget consuming me, the need to help him forget even stronger.

  Breaking apart, his lips travel down my chest to my breasts where he sucks my nipples into his mouth. “I want your birthday to be different,” I admit. “I don’t want it to be associated with or saddened by everything in your past.” I gasp when he bites down on my left nipple. “I want it to be enhanced by our beautiful future.”

  “You’re my future,” he says, working his way to my mouth. We stare at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. This pull, this electricity, it isn’t just lust. There is more between us than simply sexual desire.

  It’s the beginning.

  The beginning of something so great, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let it go.

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” I say into the phone, groggy and tired. I don’t think I’ll get used to these early morning phone calls from Colby.

  “Were you sleeping? I’m sorry, I thought you had a class today.” I turn over and look at the clock in my kitchen. Seven in the morning.

  “I have one in an hour. I guess it’s good you woke me up.” I stretch my arms above my head, incredibly sore from every which way Colby and I have had sex in the past few days. There was a family gathering with Stryder’s family last night, so I didn’t get to see him. Which is probably a good thing given how sore I am.

  “What are you wearing?” His voice is deep and playful, sending chills to all the right spots.

  “If I said nothing, will you hate me?”

  “I could never hate you.” He pauses. “Is it nothing?”

  The cool sheets caress my naked body, adding to the effect of Colby’s voice. “I took a shower last night and didn’t bother to put any clothes on after.”

  He’s quiet just as I hear heavy steps move up the stairway of my apartment. And then a knock.

  A smile is plastered across my face. “Are you at my door?”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  “I’m not going to open the door if it’s not you. I’m naked.”

  “Open your door, Rory.”

  And that right there? That’s what makes me go weak in the knees. I hang up the phone and scurry across my floor to the front door where I open it but keep my body blocked. Colby walks in with one thing on his mind . . . me.

  He shuts the door, locks it, and turns toward me, taking me in, his eyes burning a hole through me.

  He nods toward my bed and says, “Lie down.”

  I don’t even think twice. I lie on the mattress as Colby comes up behind me, pulling his shirt over his head, his abdomen flexing, his arms bulky and toned, ready to keep him firmly in place as he does wicked things to me.

  His perusal of me is dangerous, full of sensual promises. He loosens his belt buckle and undoes his pants, leaving them open. Then he drops to his knees and places both hands on my inner thighs, spreading them.

  Oh God.

  “I . . . I have work,” I say just to let him know whatever he has planned can’t be a fuck-a-thon.

  “I’ll get you off twice before you even have to think about getting ready.” With that, he presses his mouth against my arousal, and my head falls back to the mattress as his tongue works me up and down.

  I’ve had men go down on me before, but none have made me come the way Colby does; it’s like he shatters me into pieces and then puts me all back together at the same time.

  Moving his hands beneath my ass, he lifts me up to his mouth and plays with my sensitive clit.

  Sucking.

  Kissing.

  Licking.

  Flicking . . .

  “Oh yes, right there.” I still my hips as his tongue rapidly falls over the little bundle of nerves, creating a wave of pleasure that erupts through me. My veins heat, my stomach bottoms out, and my legs numb, becoming devoid of all feeling as he pushes me to the apex of my orgasm. And just like he came crashing in here, my orgasm hits me hard, bucking my hips against his mouth, my hands holding on to the sheets as euphoria spikes through my body.

  I can barely process what’s happening when he flips me over and I hear the sound of a wrapper being opened. Before I know it, Colby’s powerful body is hovering over me, his hands smoothing up and down my back until they grab my hips and prop them up.

  He’s inside me in one swift movement, hitting me deep inside.

  So full.

  So perfect.

  “Fuck, Rory. Always so good.” He starts to move his hips, his length dragging in and out of me at a leisurely pace, stretching me, and making me feel so impossibly good.

  I burrow my head into the mattress as his body leans over mine, his hands finding my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples. We’ve only spent a few days learning each other’s bodies, yet already he knows me, what I want, what I need.

  His touches are methodical, planned out, like he has a roadmap to my pleasure and how to make me scream his name in seconds.

  And I’m there as he rolls my nipples between his fingers, pulling and plucking.

  “Christ,” I moan, my eyes shut, my forehead resting on the mattress, his thick cock moving in and out of me.

  “Fuck, are you there?” he asks, grinding into me harder, picking up his pace.

  “Y-yes,” I stutter just as my pussy clenches around his cock.

  He groans into my ear, his hips stilling, my orgasm adding to his as we both fall over the edge together, pulse after pleasurable pulse searing through us.

  Colby presses a gentle kiss between my shoulder blades and passes his thumb over my nipple, soothing the ache for a few beats before standing and taking care of the condom. He comes back with a warm washcloth, cleans me up, and then cuddles me on the bed, pulling me into his chest as his arms wrap around me, his face buried in my hair.

  “Mmm . . . that’s one way to start the day.” I bring one of his hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “What are you doing here?”

  “Wasn’t sure if I’d see you later today or tomorrow, and I wanted to give you a small Christmas present.”

  I turn in his grasp so we’re face to face, and I press my hand to his cheek. “You got me a Christmas present?”

  “It’s small.” He shrugs. “Don’t get too excited. I haven’t had to buy presents fo
r anyone, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

  I twist my lips to the side, my brow creasing. “You haven’t bought a present for anyone? What about your grandpa?”

  He shakes his head. “He always tells me not to bother, says he just wants my company.”

  “Well, I could have taken your company too. I’m always looking for time with you.”

  His thumb trails down my cheek, to my lips where he tugs on the bottom one and says, “I wanted to get you something.”

  I kiss his thumb and smile. “Can I have it? Or did you just give it to me?”

  He chuckles. “The orgasms were the starter gift.”

  I rub my hands together as he moves across the bed to where his pants are on the floor. “If that was the starter gift, I can’t wait to see what you really got me.”

  He palms the gift in his large hand and lies down next to me. The way he’s biting on his lip, tells me he’s nervous.

  The man is six-foot-two, muscled to perfection, and looks shy to give me a present. Good Lord, he is adorable.

  “Well . . .” I dance my fingers over his bare chest. “Are you going to give me the gift?”

  “Uh, yeah. Here. It’s just something small,” he repeats, watching intently as I unwrap the little box.

  “Did you wrap this?” The Santa paper is really cute.

  “Yeah. Watched a video on YouTube about gift-wrapping. How did I do?”

  I pause in my pursuit to open the gift and stare into his eyes. How is it possible that this beautiful man with a gorgeous soul is experiencing so many firsts with me? How could he rise from a family that didn’t care about him and become the humbling and determined man he is today? It’s unbelievable to me.

  “You did a beautiful job, Colby. Thank you for putting so much thought and effort into this gift.”

  Blinking, his eyes connect with mine when he says, “Well, it’s you, Rory.”

  And that’s all he has to say, because those few words mean the world. He’s saying I’m worth it. Closing in, I capture his face and press my lips against his, our bodies molding together, his hand gripping my hip, pulling me in closer. I keep the kiss short, so when I put some distance between us, Colby groans in disappointment.