Remember: A Symbols of Love Novel, page 16
I take a hold of his cock, marveling at how hard he is. He feels like a steel pole, wrapped in velvet in my hands. I guide him to me. I'm slick and he slides inside without any resistance. We both hiss at the initial contact, the sensation making my heart race and my breathing shallow. Our eyes meet and we grin at each other. We’re both giddy over how good it feels.
He braces himself above me on his forearms and with one hard thrust slides all the way inside of me. I feel the walls of my pussy contact and cling to him. It feels so right to have him inside of me and yet, my body, unused to the size, registers some discomfort.
“Are you okay, baby?” he gasps as he moves his hips, settling even deeper into the cradle of my thighs. He brings one of my legs up, holding it under the knee and watches my face.
I reach up and brush a lock of blond hair out of his eyes and smile.
“Yes, so good. I’m great.”
Then he starts to move, his hips make slow thrusts, each one a statement. Each one saying he feels me, he wants me, and he never wants this to end.
I raise my pelvis to meet each thrust, and I feel like we are partners in a race, each of us doing our part to get us across the finish line.
I feel my orgasm building as he puts his face in my neck and bites the tendon that connects my neck to my shoulder. He growls and starts to pepper my shoulder and chest with kisses.
The pace of his hips slows and forces mine to do the same. He bends again and licks my nipple. The sound that leaves my mouth is close to a wail. He looks up.
“Red, I could stay here, attached to this juicy nipple all day. I want to suck it until you can’t fucking speak. I want to fuck you until all you know is the feel of my dick inside of you.”
I can only pant in response, my eyes are having a difficult time focusing, so I close them.
“Your body is making me feel like this is my first time at the world’s best amusement park. I want to ride everything, over and over.”
I mewl, unable to speak for the overpowering pleasure coursing through me. His hands come up and take my legs, and puts them both on his shoulders, putting me at almost a ninety-degree angle while he moves inside me, drilling, deeper and deeper. Each thrust, painful and turning into a sharp pleasure that has my orgasm stacking up inside of me.
“Feels so good, Dean.” Is all I can say as he starts to slam into me. And without touching any other part of my body, Dean fucks me into an orgasm that is so powerful, I feel completely wrecked by it. We kiss as we catch our breath. Dean gets up to use the bathroom and I fall asleep before he even gets back.
When I wake up, I'm alone in the bed. I can hear Dean in the other room typing on his computer.
I glance at the clock and see it’s three in the morning and I remember I need to get back home no later than eight o’clock. Kevin’s bringing Anthony home at nine this morning because he has his piano lesson. I want to get there with plenty of time to be ready to face him.
I sigh, feeling the delicious aches of our lovemaking as I turn over and go back to sleep.
24
* * *
“Can’t you go any faster?” I hiss at Dean, one hand covering the speaker on my phone. We are in his car, speeding up Sixteenth Street toward Silver Spring. When I don’t get a response, I glance up at Dean and find him staring straight ahead. I can see his jaw flex in annoyance. I'm about to reiterate my question when my mother’s unusually panicked voice pulls me back to our conversation.
“Milly, he won’t leave. Anthony’s gone up to his room, but he’s just sitting here, saying he needs to speak with you.”
She's whispering, obviously trying to keep Kevin from hearing our conversation. I feel a wave of guilt at the idea that she’s alone and uncomfortable with him.
I planned on being home two hours ago, but I’ve overslept. I woke to my phone ringing. My mother’s anxious voice had me out of bed and pulling on my clothes before I even checked to see if Dean was awake or still sleeping beside me.
He’s been awake, for hours apparently, and he had no idea I needed to be home so early.
He’s been quiet since we got into the car. He insisted taking me home would be faster than me trying to call a car. I didn’t feel like arguing that point because my sole focus was getting home and getting rid of Kevin.
Now though, as I’ve talked my mother down from her third call in the last twenty minutes, I second guess the wisdom of taking him home with me for Kevin to see.
It has been three months since our separation. But, I don’t think I want him meeting Dean now, or ever.
“Mom, we will be there in less than ten minutes. He can’t do anything to you, and I promise he will leave as soon as I get home.”
I pray I am not overstating my abilities and hang up before she can say anything else.
I lean back into the seat and close my eyes. I try to gather my thoughts and calm myself with the time I have left.
“Milly, are you going to tell me what’s going on? You act like you’ve been caught cheating on him. He’s at your house. So, what?” His voice is cold and clipped.
I open my eyes and look at him again. He’s sporting stubble and his hair is finger mussed. We only had time to brush our teeth and throw on clothes, but I think he looks like he could have stepped out of the pages of a Ralph Lauren commercial right now.
I avoid looking down at myself. I already know I don’t look like anybody’s commercial.
“I don’t feel like I’ve been caught doing anything. I would have liked to have been home when Anthony got there, but otherwise, the only thing that’s bothering me is that my mother is upset.”
I know I sound as clipped as he did. But I don’t care. I'm tired, annoyed, and not sure what he's getting at.
“Well, he better not say shit I find disrespectful or we are going to have a problem,” Dean clips out.
Oh, dear Lord. This is equal parts annoying and hot. But I know I don’t want to even know what Dean means by “a problem.”
I reach for his hand and he looks up at me. His eyes, so clear and full of anger, leaving me momentarily speechless.
“Milly, I’m your man. What do you expect me to do?” he asks when he sees my expression.
My chest constricts, I'm scared and delighted all at once.
“So, I'm going to let you know right now. If that motherfucker even looks at you the wrong way, we’re going to have a problem. He has no say, at all, in how you live your personal life. He has no say, at all, in anything that doesn’t have to do with your son.”
His hand grabs more firmly onto mine, and he looks back out of the window. The muscles in his jaw flex. I feel compelled to be the voice of reason.
“There is so much we have to talk about and decide . . .”
“Red, have you ever felt anything like what is between us?”
I shake my head. I haven’t. The knowing between us. The draw, the need, the comfort, the heat, I’ve only ever felt it with him. I start I start to tear up at these thoughts.
I make myself stop. I need to get ready to face Kevin.
I squeeze Dean’s hand and look out the window on my side of the car just as we turn onto my street.
I see Kevin’s Mercedes sedan parked in front of my townhouse and my stomach tightens and my heart rate picks up.
When we arrive at my house, I don’t wait for Dean to come to a complete stop, I jump down and march up to the front door. My mother opens it as I approach.
“Thank goodness you’re here. He’s pacing, talking to himself,” she says as I walk into my house after her. I don’t look back to see if Dean is behind me. I don’t need to; I can feel him like a balmy breeze propelling me forward.
I walk into the living room and see Kevin standing there, dressed casually in jeans, T-shirt, and running shoes.
“Hello, Kevin.” I use an unaffected voice, as I slow my pace to stroll into the living room, my mother hot at my heels.
“Mil, where have you been?” he says, looking agitated. His normally handsome face marred by a sneer.
“Out,” I return shortly. I'm not trying to antagonize him, but I also don’t want him to think he can walk in and demand to know my whereabouts.
“Yeah. I know . . .” he trails off and his eyes move beyond me. I know Dean has entered the room because the energy has changed completely.
“Who is this?” Kevin snaps. Like a stranger has entered his home.
“This is my . . . this is Dean,” I stammer, and I want to groan for not having a response to this question ready.
“I’m Dean Orleans. Milly’s boyfriend.” Dean reaches around me and puts his hand out for Kevin to shake.
Kevin ignores his offered hand and only gawks at him. I want to gawk, too. My boyfriend?
I speak instead. “I'm home. What do you need? My mother says you need to speak with me. What is it? Couldn’t you have said it over the phone?”
This seems to wake him up. “It’s private, family business. I'm not talking about it with him here.” He tips his head in Dean’s direction.
I roll my eyes and sigh. “Okay, then why don’t we set up a time to talk about this over the phone?” I look at Kevin, raise an eyebrow and wait.
“It can’t wait. I need to talk to you now.” Kevin insists.
“Look, either tell me now or call me later. I’m tired.”
And I mean it. I'm tired and I’m anxious for him to leave. Dean walks over to me, puts his arm around my waist and pulls me against him.
“Red, why don’t you go up and see your son. I’ll walk him out for you,” he whispers audibly.
Kevin rears back. “You don’t need to walk me out of my own fucking house, man. I need to talk to my wife. You need to leave.”
I bristle, stepping away from Dean and toward Kevin.
“Don’t you dare call me that. You lost that right a long time ago. Even before you left. This may be half your house, but it is my home. You need to leave. Now.”
“You can’t do this.” Kevin starts toward me.
“Man. Don’t take another step toward her. I'm fucking telling you right now, if you do not leave, I will put you out,” Dean rumbles, stepping between Kevin and me. This time, I decide not to stop him.
My mother hasn’t said a word since we walked into the room. I look at her to find her staring at Dean, eyes wide and glittering, with a look of utter surprise on her face. I need to get this scene over with. Now.
“Please. Just go,” I plead, not caring how I sound right now.
Kevin looks between the three of us and then shakes his head in resignation and anger.
He turns to face me. The expression on his face is soft, his annoyance and arrogance completely gone. For a moment, it reminds me of the old him. The Kevin I married, and I feel wistful and sorry. Sorry this man, the one who looks capable of contrition and honesty, isn’t really who Kevin is. Sorry for our younger selves who thought they could build a marriage on insecurity and mediocrity.
I step toward Dean, wanting to make a point.
Kevin’s swallow is audible, before he says quietly, “Mil, I’ll call you tomorrow. I miss you.”
He walks past me and then he's gone. My mother walks out of the room after him without a word.
“I’m sorry for this scene . . .” I whisper, my throat suddenly tight with unshed tears.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he returns and then he draws me into his arms.
We stand there and for the first time since I woke up, I feel a sense of peace and calm settle around my shoulders.
“Red, I’m going to get going. I know you’re eager to see your son, and I’ve got to get home for a call and get ready to get back to the office tomorrow.”
I want to beg him to stay. “Okay. Yes. Thank you.” I hug him again, reveling in the feel of his hard body.
He leans down and presses his lips to mine—it’s a soft kiss, yet it’s also heavy. I want to wrap all four limbs around him.
“Have a good week. Can I see you soon?” he asks, pulling away from my mouth, but holding me in his bottle green gaze.
“Yes, that would be nice. I’ll plan something.”
I smile at him as he draws away. He passes my mother in the hallway and she stops him with a gentle palm laid on his chest. He stops and smiles softly down at her.
“My daughter has the heart of a lion. Do not underestimate her.” She says all of this while staring straight into his eyes.
Dean looks perplexed and slightly startled, but only says, “Never,” while he puts a hand over the one she has on his chest and pats it. He leans down to kiss her cheek.
I feel like they are having a conversation that I’ve missed a huge part of.
He looks back at me and smiles. “See you, Red.” And with a wave, he walks out of the living room.
I turn to my mother. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to remind him you are stronger than you may appear.”
Not satisfied, but not willing to push it right now, I just say, “Right.”
I turn to leave the room and she calls after me. “I like him.”
For the second time today, my heart catches. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear this until she said it. And I also realize that although she treated him with kindness and respect these are words she has never said to me about Kevin.
I smile to myself as I start up the stairs to my son’s room. He's passed out on his bed, his sweet mouth parted, and his arms and legs splayed wide.
I run my hand over his curly head of hair and lie down beside him. The rest of the world melts away, as I drift off to sleep again.
25
* * *
Mondays are my kryptonite. I feel like I'm being punished when my alarm clock goes off at six. I groan and start to press snooze, but remember I’ve got a lot to accomplish today. I start going over my mental to-do list and a bubble of joy and fear well in my gut.
I spent Sunday with Anthony. We caught a movie, ate lunch at his favorite restaurant, the Lebanese Tarvena in Downtown Silver Spring, and then puttered around Barnes and Noble looking for new books.
He also had a playdate with his friend Isaiah from soccer camp. We met at the park in our neighborhood. She's older than I am and like me, has only one child. She isn’t married and had Isaiah with the help of a sperm donor and medical science.
One of the casualties of my hyper focus on my marriage over the last ten years has been relationships with people who are not members of my family. I never fit in with the other mothers at school, and so I’m so happy to have a friend.
She sent a text and said she had a day off and wanted to get together; I jumped at the chance.
It’s a gorgeous day and the boys are chasing each other on the jungle gym as Laila and I chat.
I’ve just finished telling her about the last six months of my life. I test out telling someone about Dean by telling her.
She squeals when I’m done. “Oh, my God. That is amazing! You go, girl! I wish some handsome hottie would come and sweep me off my feet.” She giggles as she looks at me, her warm brown eyes sparkling with delight.
It makes me feel excited and a little giddy for the first time. I have been afraid someone would say they think I’m crazy. I mean, for as long as I’ve known him there is still so much I don’t know. But he's all I can think about.
“If I’ve learned anything it’s that you only know what people want you to, anyway. I say enjoy it. Life is short. This is you getting a chance to make up for ten years of orgasm deficient sex!”
I look around to make sure the boys are out of earshot.
“I know!” I squeal back. And then I sober, as I remember my other dilemma.
Cristal has been so aloof; I want to make sure I get this party right. And I want to land some other clients to show myself that I can.
I tell her about the situation and my concerns about not really growing my business.
“So, I just need to work on getting some face time with other businesses, build my portfolio . . .” I trail off, wanting to stave off the sense of hopelessness that is starting to invade.
“We used to have an event planning department, but we outsource everything now. Why don’t you give me your business card, and I’ll set up a meeting with you and our operations person to talk about it,” Laila suggests.
“I would, if I had one.” I'm unable to meet her eyes. What must she think of me? She's a single mother and successful professionally. I’m sitting on my ass complaining.
“I can help you,” she says softly. I look at her. “I know what it’s like. To start over, to feel like you need help and don’t know where to look. Being a single mom isn’t easy. Dealing with life changes isn’t easy.” She takes my hand and gives it a quick squeeze before releasing it again. “Come to my office next week, we can work on it.”
She gives me an encouraging smile and I return it. I start to remember the way I felt when I was young. Like anything was possible and that I'm capable of more. And I like the feeling, I want to chase it and reclaim it.
I look over at my son and Isaiah running and screaming in delight, and I feel hope rise in my chest. I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
26
* * *
Dean’s back in town. I feel a flutter of excitement as I see his text pop up on my phone letting me know he’s landed.
We’ve talked every night this week and they have been long, deep conversations about our lives, our families, our ambitions. We’ve also had the most amazing phone sex. It’s been like foreplay; all week long my desire for him has been building. He's so unabashed in his want of me. He tells me, in clear detail how he wants me. Where he wants me, and what he's doing to himself as he imagines tasting me.
I’ve grown bolder, too, and every night when I slip my fingers into my panties and bring myself to orgasm with only the sound of his voice and the images he evokes, I feel like another link in the chains I’ve bound myself with have fallen off.
