The Way We Fall

  “What do you want me to do to you?” he whispers as he kisses his way to my other breast.

  Just hearing him ask the question makes me writhe with anticipation, but it’s been so long since we’ve been together, I don’t know if I remember how to do this.

  He kisses his way down to my navel, his fingers poised on the button of my jeans as he looks up at me with a cunning smile. “I’m going to make you come so hard tonight.”

  I swallow hard as he undoes my button. “Oh, God.”

  He slowly eases me out of my jeans, smiling when he sees my pink G-string. Tracing his finger downward along the lacy edge, he stops when his hand is between my legs. He looks up at me, watching my reaction as he slips his finger beneath the fabric and easily finds my clit. My abdominal muscles tighten and I try to focus on breathing as he gently teases me with the soft pad of his finger.

  “Look me in the eye.”

  I gaze back at him, my mouth gaping as he strokes my clit. He varies the pressure, first soft and then firm, then soft again. I pant steadily, my mewls subdued by my insecurity.

  “Let go, baby,” he reassures me.

  I bite my lip as I look him in the eye and swallow my reserve. My hips buck in time with the rhythm of his hand. And almost instantly, the orgasm hits me in waves. My body curls inward feeding the fiery hunger in his eyes. He holds me tighter, his gaze fixed on mine as my legs twitch with the force of the pleasure. My body spasms uncontrollably as he continues to stroke me, and I get a strong urge to push his hand away. The pleasure is so intense it’s almost painful.

  “This is mine,” he murmurs as he caresses me. “Say it.”

  I exhale a sharp breath coupled with a moan as the orgasm reaches epic levels. “It’s yours.”

  My thighs tremble and I let out a few sharp whimpers, but he continues until the orgasm passes. He’s going for orgasm number two.

  “You’re going to come so many times tonight, you’ll be begging me to stop just so you can catch your breath.”

  I haven’t been touched in so long, the second orgasm comes easily. He smiles as he slides his hand back and slowly pulls my panties off. The moment his mouth is on me, I throw my head back and let out a loud sigh.

  “Holy shit.”

  His tongue swirls around my clit, torturing me, until orgasm number three begins. He senses it, so he pulls his head back and slides two fingers inside me. I look down and he’s watching me so he can see when he’s found my G-spot. He curls his fingers inside me, massaging in a firm back-and-forth motion until he locates it. My body jumps a little and he smiles as he focuses his stroking on that one sensitive area.

  Then his mouth is on me again and the pleasure is almost too much to handle. I grab fistfuls of his hair and try not to kick him as he brings me to orgasm again. He reaches up to tweak my nipple, keeping his mouth closed around my clit. My body quakes violently as he stimulates me beyond the point of comprehension. Until I feel as if I’m panting so hard I’m going to black out.

  When he’s done, he plants a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh and moves to get up. I watch in wonderment as he stands from the sofa and strips before me. He’s more beautiful than I remembered. His perfect pecs and abs flow effortlessly into his oblique muscles, which draw a glorious arrow pointing down toward his velvety smooth erection.

  He settles down on top of me and I coil my arms around his muscular shoulders as he kisses me deeply. His erection rubs against my sensitive clit as his hips thrust slowly back and forth, using my moisture to massage me and work me into a frenzy.

  I push his shoulders back so I can look him in the eye. “Put it in… please.”

  The left corner of his mouth curves upward, then we both look down to watch as he slowly slides his cock inside me.

  “Fuck,” he hisses, as he pushes in a bit farther. “You’re so tight.” He plunges into me a little at a time, watching my face to see my reaction. “Have you been with anyone else?” He freezes with half his erection inside me when I shake my head. “Really?”

  I would expect myself to feel embarrassed about this, but I’m not. I shouldn’t be ashamed of the fact that I don’t want to have casual sex.

  “Is that weird?” I reply.

  He smiles and kisses my forehead. “It’s not weird. It’s sexy as fuck.”

  He lifts my leg a little so he can slide farther into me. It takes a few minutes, but he finally gets his entire erection inside me and I gasp when he hits my cervix.

  His brow furrows as he looks me in the eye. “Am I hurting you?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy to feel a bit of pain.”

  He leans down to whisper in my ear. “I love you, Scar.”

  I tighten my arms and legs around him and close my eyes as I attempt to burn this moment into my memory. “I love you, too.”

  He pulls his head back a little and grabs my face, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I love you, baby, but tonight I’m going to fuck you until you question that.” He smiles and plants a kiss on the tip of my nose as he thrusts his hips back and forth. “I’ve been waiting five long years for this.”

  I whimper as he moves in and out of me. His considerable girth gently stretches the walls of my pussy, tenderizing me, preparing me for whatever he has in mind.

  I gaze back at him as I whisper, “I’m ready. And I’ll never question that.”

  Five years ago, January 3rd

  * * *

  “What are you here for today, young man?”

  I swallow hard as I try to work up the courage to say what’s on my mind. “My sister died last month and I… I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and I’ve… been feeling sort of… sad. Is there something you can give me to make it go away?”

  Dr. Greene flashes me a tight smile. “Being sad is not a disease that I can prescribe medication for. Depression is a disease for which I can prescribe an antidepressant, but it is not the same as being sad. Being sad is a single symptom of depression. And depression is not the same thing as grief.”

  I sigh audibly. “Can’t you just give me something to make it go away?”

  “Make what go away?”

  I want to shout, The fucking grief! But my subconscious beats me to it. “The memories.”

  Dr. Greene casts a pitiful look in my direction and that’s when I realize I’ve diagnosed my own disorder. And I know exactly how to treat it.

  I don’t need drugs for depression. I need alcohol for forgetting.

  I slide off the exam table and grab my coat off the plastic chair. “Sorry I wasted your time. I made a mistake.”

  By the time I hop into the driver’s seat of my truck, I’m shaking like a leaf as the memory of Hallie’s death replays in my mind. I told myself I would get over that by getting revenge on the person responsible for her death, but nothing I’ve done over the past month has brought the justice Hallie deserves. I’ve only made things even more complicated. I’ve fallen in love with the person I intended to destroy.

  August 25th

  * * *

  All day long, no matter what I do or where I go, I can’t seem to get rid of the giddy, nerves-zinging sensation. I discussed my thoughts on the wedding vows with Benji and couldn’t stop thinking of the engagement ring tucked inside the pocket of my jeans. As Bella taught me how to make a billion different espresso drinks, I grinned stupidly while imagining Houston standing naked in my kitchen, gulping a postcoital glass of water. While passing the produce department on my way out of work, I smiled coyly at the sight of the bananas. So when I step onto the sidewalk outside the store, where Kenny waits to walk me home, he instantly spots me grinning from ear to ear. There will be no hiding from him what happened last night.

  Kenny looks me up and down and cocks an eyebrow. “You got your kitten smashed.”

  I shrug as I fall into step beside him. “Maybe.”

  “By the lumberjack?”

  I chuckle at this. “That’s quite a violent image you’ve conjured,
but no. Not the lumberjack.”

  He grabs my arm and stops me in the middle of the sidewalk on Burnside. “You have another suitor I don’t know yet? That’s not allowed, Aurora.”

  “Suitor? I didn’t realize I needed permission from Sir Kenneth to get my kitten smashed.”

  “Who is he? Whoever he is better not cut into our quality time.”

  I smile as I lock arms with him and continue down Burnside. “I can’t really say too much about it. He’s…” I glance around as if any of the random strangers walking around us are interested in our conversation. “He’s married,” I whisper just loud enough for Kenny to hear.

  “Oh, my goodness,” he gasps, covering his mouth. “I didn’t know you were such a slut.”

  I nudge his shoulder. “I’m not a slut. It’s complicated. He’s my first love. And the only guy I’ve ever been with.”

  He shakes his head as if he’s trying to physically clear away his confusion. “Whoa, whoa. Wait. So, have you been with this guy the whole time he’s been married? I’m so confused… and intrigued.”

  “No, we broke up five years ago while we were in college. Then he got married and… We ran into each other at the Belmont store.”

  “While you were working there with me?”

  I nod and he gasps.

  “Oh, my God, Rory. Was it that guy in the back of the store?”

  I nod again and his eyes widen.

  “He’s gorgeous,” he replies, continuing down Burnside. “I am truly jealous.”

  “You don’t think I’m a disgusting human being for having sex with a married man? It was only one night, but I do feel slightly, or maybe totally, ashamed.”

  He slows down to a stroll and flashes me a warm smile. “Of course not. I know a thing or two about complicated relationships. No one’s perfect. And anyone who expects you to be perfect is just hiding something.”

  I chuckle at this statement. “No one has ever explained that to me so simply. How did you get to be so wise at the age of thirty?”

  He gasps and lightly smacks my shoulder. “Don’t ever insult me like that again. And my wisdom is just plain common sense earned over a very messed-up childhood. I mean, my mother named me Kenny, for God’s sake. You’d be surprised how much crap one person can endure in twenty-two years.”

  I sigh as I think of how much I had endured by the age of eighteen. “Not surprised at all, actually.” I hug his arm. “That was a hug for your messy childhood.”

  “Thank you. That made it all better.”

  After Kenny and I gorge ourselves on Korean barbecue tacos at the food truck on Burnside, we head to my place to let our food digest while watching a chick flick. When we arrive at my apartment, I take Skippy out of his crate and walk him outside to do his business. Then I check his blood glucose before I feed him. And he is more than happy to snuggle up with me on the sofa.

  Kenny beckons me to cuddle with him while we watch How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days. I cock my eyebrow at his invitation, but he waves off my skepticism.

  “Oh, come on. You’re safe with me. You and I both know cuddling is totally gay.”

  I scoot closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He lies back so he can put his leg on the sofa and I wind up with my head lying on his chest.

  He sniffs the top of my head. “Your hair smells delicious. What is that?”

  “It’s vanilla birthday cake shampoo and espresso. I was making coffee all day.”

  “It perfect, just like you.”

  We settle into a comfortable position and soon we’re lost in the adorable antics of Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey. An hour later, I’m woken by a vibration in my pocket. I glance up and Kenny is still awake and watching the movie. I slide my phone out of my pocket and find a text from Houston.

  * * *

  Houston: Do you work tomorrow?

  * * *

  I carefully sit up so I don’t poke Kenny with my elbow, then I begin typing my response.

  “Is that him?” Kenny asks as he sits up.

  “Yes.”

  “Houston is a cowboy’s name. Hmm… A cowboy and a lumbersexual? I’d pay to see that.”

  I shake my head as I hit send.

  * * *

  Me: No. I’m taking Skippy to Wallace Park to mingle with his own kind.

  Houston: How about Wednesday?

  Me: Yeah, I’ll be there.

  Houston: Good. Bring the ring with you.

  * * *

  I tuck the phone into my pocket and lean back as I wonder why he wants me to bring the ring to work. When I glance to my left, Kenny’s wearing an awkward smile. I’m almost afraid to ask what he’s thinking, but I have to know.

  “What?”

  He shakes his head. “What are you going to do if he doesn’t leave his wife?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand why I feel this way, but I honestly think that’s not something I have to worry about.”

  “You guys bumped into each other just two weeks ago and you had sex once and now he’s just going to leave his wife?”

  “We had sex four times,” I reply with a grin, but Kenny doesn’t look impressed. “I told you, it’s not that simple. We have a history.”

  “Enlighten me. What is this history that makes the situation so complicated?”

  I heave a deep sigh and stare at the ceiling as I begin. “I’ve loved him since I was eleven years old.”

  “Holy pedobear. You two were together when you were eleven?”

  “No. That’s how long I’ve loved him. We didn’t get together until I was eighteen. Houston’s sister was my best friend.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I try to keep my emotions in check. “Hallie committed suicide our freshman year in college and I ended up living with Houston the rest of the year. We broke up a week before summer break.”

  “So you were there for each other at the most painful time of your lives, but the pain wasn’t enough to keep you two together?”

  I open my eyes to look at Kenny. “I wish it were that simple.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the engagement ring. “He was really messed up by what happened to Hallie. He was the one who found her.”

  “Holy jeebus. Look at the size of that rock. He gave you this engagement ring and you still broke up with him?”

  “No. He gave me that ring last night. He never gave it to me when we were together. He broke up with me when he found out I was pregnant.”

  Kenny shakes his head adamantly as he rises from the sofa. “Uh-uh, Rory. This isn’t complicated. This is Kardashian-level fucked up. You’re gonna need to get me a stiff drink if you expect me to listen to this.”

  I laugh as I get up and head for the kitchen to get some tequila and lime wedges. I rarely ever drink, hence the easy buzz I got when Kenny and I went out last weekend. I think drinking is one of the things that reminded me too much of Houston. The tasting parties and the research trips to the pubs. Getting tipsy and having frenzied drunken sex was so common for us that just walking down the beer aisle at work can be a haunting experience.

  Two hours and four tequila shots later, Kenny has heard the story of Houston and me. I’ve arrived at the climax where, apparently, Houston comes back into my life, gives me a very expensive diamond engagement ring, and tells me he’s going to leave his wife. And it all happens at the same time I run into a totally nice, unattached lumberjack I once knew in a past life.

  “Oh, I almost forgot!” I pull my phone out of my pocket and Kenny lunges for it, but I hold it out of his reach. “I told lumberjack—I mean, Liam—I’d call him today. I have to call him.”

  “Nuh-uh. You are not drunk-dialing him at eleven o’clock at night on a Monday. Give me that phone.”

  I laugh as he struggles to take the phone from me, then I jump up from the sofa and race to the bedroom, laughing maniacally as I lock the door behind me.

  “Nothing good can come of this!” he shouts at me through the door.

  I dial Liam’s number, then I press
my fingertips to my cheekbones to see how numb my face is. He answers on the second ring.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I reply, trying not to laugh.

  “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  “Nope. Just got a little sidetracked. I’m drunk.”

  He laughs. “You drunk-dialed me?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I was drinking with my friend and I just remembered that I promised to call you today. I didn’t want you to think I’m flaky. I’m really not flaky, but I am forgetful. And both of those words begin with the letter F.”

  He chuckles. “An astute observation. Other than getting drunk, what are you and your friend doing?”

  “Exchanging sob stories.” I hear a soft barking noise in the background and I get really excited. “Do you have a dog?”

  “Yeah, a shepherd mix named Sparky, short for Sparkle Motion.”

  I chuckle at this reference to the movie Donnie Darko. “He must be a great dancer.”

  “He is. You should see him go from a pirouette straight into a perfect Dirty Dancing lift.”

  “I’d love to see that. Maybe he could teach Skippy a thing or two. I’m taking Skip to Wallace Park tomorrow. You should bring Sparky.”

  Liam is silent for a moment, and when he finally responds his voice sounds a bit weary. “Rory, tomorrow’s Tuesday. I work tomorrow.”

  “Oh, crap. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that not everyone works retail. Just forget I asked. I’ll let you go. You probably need to get to sleep so you can wake up early. Sorry.”

  “Wait. Don’t hang up. I’m just… Ah, fuck it. I’ll meet you at the park tomorrow at ten a.m. But you’re really drunk right now, so I’m calling you at nine a.m. to remind you, ’kay?”

  Suddenly I feel a little sick to my stomach as I realize Liam is going to skip work tomorrow to hang out with me. I want to tell him to just forget it. I don’t want to lead him on. But Liam was the one who said he’d rather be friends with me than risk getting hurt. I guess that means I’ll have to come clean with him tomorrow about Houston.