“Yes,” she cries, her pace quickening.
“Yes?”
I apply more pressure, circling, pushing, and pinching as she falls over the cliff. She weeps indistinguishable words and lustful cries as she contracts around me. I grip her hips and drive upward at a punishing pace. Another wave rolls through her body, and my desire almost reaches the point of pain as I erupt. I can’t get close enough, deep enough, as I pound out my pleasure.
Her sated and weakened body falls to my chest, my cock still pulsing deep inside her. A contented sigh leaves her lips as she lays her cheek to my heart, and her fingers dance lazily on my chest. Her hand moves over my heart, close to her lips. Her mouth curves into a sweet smile as she taps lightly, mimicking the rhythm of my heart.
I run a finger up her spine and neck, over her cheek, and press it lightly to her swollen lips. A single thought rolls through my mind—the only truth I know deep in my soul.
It beats for you.
“Free of Me” by Joshua Radin
The Past
“I’M NOT GOING. He can’t make me go,” Lucas says, turning his back to me and scribbling furiously in his notebook.
“It’s only a few nights, Lucas. You can do this. I know you can.” Before I get all of the words out, he’s already shaking his head.
I sigh in frustration and pinch the bridge of my nose. The Landrys are leaving in the morning for Alabama. Their annual family reunion is in Gulf Shores this year, and they’re going to stop at Ole Miss to pick up Audrey. She left for the summer session a week ago, and her mom is dying to see her new dorm and campus.
Lucas is not going, or so he says. His parents won’t hear of it, and I’ve begged, bargained, and I’m not above stealing, to make it happen. There is no safer place for Lucas than in a hotel room, sleeping in a bed right next to his parents. He’s got to go with them.
These past few weeks, following his botched suicide attempt, have been grueling. I spend each day watching his every move, dissecting his words for any hint of negative thoughts. I spent every night with Audrey until the day she left for Ole Miss, staying with Lucas until he was safely sleeping, keeping alert through the night for any noises from his room. After she left, I stayed with Lucas as long as possible each night, before crossing the street and peeking at his bedroom window all night.
I’ve never been so exhausted in my entire life.
“No, I have things to do here. Important things,” he says in a monotone voice, his eyes never leaving the paper.
“Lucas—”
He shuts his eyes and runs his hands down his face in frustration. “You know I can’t do it. The crowds, the noise, being away from my room … my things. They’ll know.” He turns to me with pleading eyes. “They’ll send me away.”
“I don’t want to argue, Lucas. I’m trying here. I’m doing everything I can—”
“I know, Celia. God, I know.” His head falls into his hands, and he grips his hair. “I’m killing you, and I hate it. I have no right to do this to you … no right to live this life … to take yours away. I need to be a man. To do what needs to be done.” He launches out of the chair and paces the room.
I grab his hand, and he rips it away. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
He stops, his back facing me and his head lowered in defeat. His fists clench and unclench as his shoulders rise with each breath. He turns around slowly and drops to his knees in front of me. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you. I’m going to figure this out for us, Celia.”
I run my hands through his hair, trying to calm him. He rests his head in my lap and closes his eyes. He’s just as tired as I am. Whatever is happening inside his mind, it’s slowly draining the life out of him, and he won’t allow me to do anything but watch it happen.
A knock interrupts us, and Lucas lifts his head as his father opens the door. The actress in me takes over, and I smile cheerfully.
“Hi, Mr. Gene. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Celia. It’s getting late, though, and I need to lock up,” he says, giving me an expectant look.
Oh no, he wants me to leave. There’s no way I can do that. I can’t leave until Lucas is sleeping.
“I’ll be happy to lock up when I leave. Lucas and I were about to start a movie.”
“Another night. We have to get an early start tomorrow morning, and I need to speak with my son. Cindy’s already asleep. It’s time to call it a night, hun.” Mr. Gene widens the door to accommodate my exit and waits.
I turn back to Lucas, hands trembling, a heavy knot settling in my stomach. I lean in to hug him goodbye, and whisper in his ear as I pull away, “Remember our promises.”
Lucas doesn’t answer me, and I slowly stand up and walk to the door, wishing I could think of something that would allow me to stay with him.
“I’ve already told you I’m not going. I can’t, I have too much work to do,” Lucas says, his voiced laced with defiance.
“You can and you will.” Mr. Gene’s voice leaves no room for argument. “I’ll talk to you once I lock up.”
I walk slowly down the stairs, counting each step, wishing for a way out. I want Mr. Gene to see what’s right in front of his face. I pray he asks me about what’s going on with his son. I hope he’ll see the answer on my face and run up the stairs to question him. I need this weight lifted off of my chest. I don’t know how much longer I can breathe.
But he says nothing.
He wishes me good night, and I stand on the porch, staring at him as the door shuts in my face. The click of the deadbolt sliding into place jolts me into action, and I race across the street.
Once I make it inside and into my bedroom, I crawl across my bed and peek through the blinds. As I’ve gotten more afraid of Lucas’s actions, I moved my bed across the room and under the window so I could lie in watch somewhat comfortably. I send Lucas a few texts, asking him to let me know he’s all right, but I don’t expect an answer. He very seldom does.
I see shadows dance across the windowpane, and I assume he and his father are having the dreaded talk. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to know who won that argument, but I pray it’s Mr. Gene. What if Lucas’s issues were brought to light on this trip? I hate to wish that on him, but I feel a tiny glimmer of hope at the thought. Lucas could get the help he needs, and I would have kept my promise.
I jump to attention when I see Lucas appear in the window. He looks out into the night, and, if I didn’t know any better, I would think he could see me. I keep my room dark to watch him better, so I know it’s my imagination. He sits at his desk, head hovered over his work, seemingly scribbling, maybe mumbling to himself, for what feels like hours. I look over at the digital clock and see it’s two in the morning.
“Go to sleep, baby. Just rest for me, please,” I whisper, almost like a prayer as I shift and rock nervously.
Finally, he reaches over and turns off his desk lamp and rises from the chair. As his room washes in darkness, I thank God he’s safe for another night, and let sleep overtake me.
My phone alarms, sounding muffled and far away. I open my eyes just a crack to see the room is still bathed in darkness. I try to swallow against my cotton mouth and pull myself to a sitting position. I’m so groggy, my muscles actually ache with fatigue and my head throbs. I pad around my bed, shifting blankets and pillows, searching for my phone. It sounds again, giving away its location, and I stare at the incoming sender with lead in my belly.