“Lil. I still love you,” he rasped, our lips in union.
“I love you,” I responded without hesitation.
“What are we doing?” he asked breathlessly.
“I don't care,” I replied, panting from the fierceness of our passion. “I should have left with you. I should have packed that night and left.”
Bobby’s chest rose and fell like a stormy sea with each breath. “I should never have let you leave that attic.”
I cupped his face and dove back into kissing him as he reached under my dress, running his thick, rough hands along my legs, triggering shivers from the thrill of being back in his arms.
This wasn't my first time. And now it wasn't all about making me comfortable. Bobby had it hard these past few years, and all I wanted to do was make him feel good. I sat up, taking in the sight of Bobby taking me in, a mutual attraction so strong, it fed into the other continuously.
I frantically unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and Bobby assisted by pulling it off over his head. The ripples of his abs moved with each breath like the ones on the lake where we had spent our perfect summers.
I reached for the fly of his jeans, pulling open the buttons without wasted time.
“Tell me what you want me to do Bobby,” I begged, feeling again like the girl who found herself in an attic with a boy much more experienced than her. “I want to make you feel good. I want to make it up to you.” I rubbed my hands over the mound in his jeans.
“Oh, Lil,” he groaned, as if my offering as I knelt before him was enough to set him off on its own.
With both hands, I pulled against the open fly with a sharp tug.
“Tell me,” I commanded, looking up at him.
He reached in and pulled himself out. I felt myself dampen at the sight of his strong fingers wrapped around his throbbing phallus.
I kept things basic with Rory. He didn't expect much from me it seemed. Maybe that was my fault. But I learned from Bobby what sex could be. What it was like to have a cocktail of lust and love fuel you so powerfully that just that person's touch could make you combust. I recollected when I shook nervously under Bobby's naked body, and he used his mouth to comfort me. I wanted to do with same for him. I saw the conflict in his eyes, the tension in his body. And I wanted to be what he had been for me.
I licked my lips before gliding them over his head, then his shaft.
“Shit, Lil,” Bobby moaned, throwing his head back as he dug his fingers into my pinned-up hair. He always found a way to muss it up.
I started slow, soft, easing my warm, wet mouth onto him. Slowly melting the tension away from his body. That signaled I was doing the right thing.
“You feel so good, baby,” he muttered.
I ran my tongue under the length of his shaft. “Tell me, Bobby,” I implored.
“Take me in all the way with that pretty mouth of yours,” he replied in a thick voice.
I followed his command as his hips slowly curved against the motion of my mouth. “That's it Lil, just take it nice and slow,” he murmured, guiding my pace without forcing it on me.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “Oh god, you're so fucking perfect.” Bobby caressed my cheek reassuringly as I took him in and out of my mouth.
“Come here,” He took my hands to get to my feet and pulled me onto him, pushing my underwear to the side as he guided me onto the raging hardness I had coaxed with my mouth.
I cried out a moan as he slid into me, stretching me around his girth so that I was once again his, if only for a short while. He let out a grunt of pleasure into my ear, reaching back under my dress so he could fill his hands with my backside, his grip so tight, it stung.
Bobby pushed against the stair behind him, supporting me with one arm as he stood up, carrying me into the house and collapsing with me onto the couch he had uncovered earlier. The comfort of his hot body pressing onto mine made the nervous doubts attempting to invade my thoughts melt away. They couldn't stand the heat.
“I've dreamt about this moment for seven years, Lil,” he rasped into my ears, holding still inside of me. “But it was just supposed to be a dream.”
Rory's shadow always loomed.
“We're supposed to live our dreams.” I reminded him, using words he would have said to me as I grazed my teeth against the bank of muscle that extended from his neck to his shoulder. I had so many dreams that night before my wedding, and so many of them withered like a flower that had been neglected. It had been so long that there wasn't even a trace of those dead petals left. They had turned to dust and were swept away.
My life hadn't become a nightmare. No . . . nightmares had adventures, and battles, and heart-pumping moments. My life had become barren. Purgatory. One of those free falls where I never hit the bottom.
Bobby was the fertile ground where I could plant my new dreams, where I could regrow them and see them come to fruition.
He plunged into me, causing me to gasp for air as if I was drowning, swerving his hips against me as I cried his name like they were my last words.
Bobby thrust into me over and over as I dug my nails into the skin of his back. The old house was muggy from months of being shut, and our skin glinted with perspiration. Bobby's coifed hair had rebelled, and small strands were glued to his forehead and cheeks. I pushed them away from his face, for a clearer view, and to touch him. He said sometimes he touched himself to see if he was really alive. I had wanted many times to reach out and touch him, across the dining table, in the truck, while he was chatting with Rory, just to make sure that he was here. That this wasn't an extension of a purgatory where an illusion of Bobby existed to taunt me. That I wasn't losing my mind from the pills, lack of sleep, and unrelenting heat.
But now I could touch him. I could feel his blazing, damp skin on my fingertips. I could feel him inside of me awakening pleasures I had forgotten I was capable of. I could stare into his eyes and not have to pretend I wasn't looking just to enjoy his face. He was real. He was really here. I could stop the free fall by holding onto him.
I tugged the top of my dress down and pressed him against me, his sweaty bare chest sticking to my bare breasts. Skin to skin. Our hearts as close as they could be to touching. There's no way to be closer to someone than to hold them against you while they are inside of you. I finally felt grounded as he grinded against me, the base of his firmness rubbing against my most sensitive spot.
“Bobby, never leave me again.”
“I'm back, Lil. I'm really back,” he answered, making sure to look me in the eyes. Then he sat up, whipping me on top of him.
“I want to watch you, Lil.” Bobby gently pressed one of my breasts in his hand and brushed his tongue against the tip. His stubble singed my delicate skin, leaving faint red marks like flames. But I didn't even care if he turned me into a pile of ash. “No matter how much I studied your body, it was never enough.” He watched me intently as I slowly snaked against his rigid shaft. His fingers traced a path along my body as if he were surveying it for a map, to imprint it in his memory forever. The touch was so soft, it sent shivers along my skin. My thighs. The fabric covering my hips and waist. Arms. Shoulders. Collarbone. The crook of my neck. My jawline. I closed my eyes so I could glory in the feel of his touch and swayed my head towards his fingertips as they reached the end of their voyage. I nuzzled against his palm as his thumb rubbed against my lips, tugging on the plump flesh. I grabbed his large hand with both of mine and kissed his fingertips tenderly, one by one, never opening my eyes, yet still feeling his scorching gaze.
With each kiss, I ground my hips deeper against him. I couldn't get close enough, but this would have to suffice. My soft kisses became hungrier as I slowly sucked on his fingertips. He swelled inside of me, taking me to a place that didn't have a map. It wasn't in an atlas or on any globe. Where obligations and loyalties didn't get in the way of the heart. A place where the body burst like white hot stars. Where it blazed as hot as the summer sun. Where it crashed like a furious ocean. Where it exploded like a volcano and raged like a hurricane. Where the mind and the body separated and connected all at once.