With my tremors still running their course, Lane slipped on a condom and was inside me. He pulled me up to meet his chest, my nipples rubbing against his very hard body, the friction causing peaks to form as he shifted me back toward the headboard, and I caught a glimpse of his six-pack working hard.
With one hand on the headboard, the other holding me tight, his tip hitting the spot that drove me wild, I was pretty sure I was going to come again when I felt Lane pick up speed, hunting down his own release. As soon as he started jerking and I felt him losing it inside me, I followed suit.
Toppling down on me, yet careful to hold some of his weight back, he slid the condom off and tossed it on the nightstand. While I lightly scratched his back, he held me until all the sensation passed.
We spent most of the afternoon this way. Lounging and talking with lingering touches.
Tucked in the crook of Lane’s neck, our bodies sticking together in the sweaty aftermath of sex, I didn’t want to move. I said in a hushed whisper, “Wow, Spain. So that’s where you were?”
“Mmm,” he said into the top of my head.
“Was it amazing?” I asked, unable to keep a touch of melancholy from my words. Not sure where it was coming from, I couldn’t help but feel a longing to travel and explore with Lane. But that would never be possible.
“It was work. Of course, it is a beautiful country, but I was there for work,” he answered, before rolling me on top of him and smiling. “But it would have been better if you were there.”
“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’m not. Actually, I’ve never really traveled much with anyone else. It would be fun with you, and hot.”
Our eyes met, and I blinked back the wetness in mine. “Lane, let’s not get carried away. I’m a waitress in rural Pennsylvania. You’re a mega-successful entrepreneur from South Beach. I’m a recovered addict and you’re essentially a playboy. Even I’m smart enough to know this has a short shelf life, whatever this is. What I’m not smart enough to do is to say ‘no thanks’ to you and your fabulous offers, but I know this will end sometime soon.”
And I hope I don’t fall apart. I pray I’m strong enough not to crumble.
“Bess,” he whispered, steadying my face with both his hands so I couldn’t look away. “Don’t make this into some awful self-fulfilling prophecy. I don’t know what this is either, but like I told you on Christmas, I feel drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt before. I can’t stop the pull and neither can you, so we shouldn’t. And for the record, when I’m with you, I don’t feel like a playboy. I’m a man chasing a woman, scared I’m not gonna catch her.”
He didn’t use any more sweet nothings to capture my heart, only actions.
After another round in the sheets, this one slower and less frantic than our first hit, we drifted off to sleep. As dusk deepened outside the house, I was jolted awake with a swift punch to my ribs.
“Ow,” I mouthed, unable to make the sound come out with the pain rushing through me.
Lane was thrashing in the sheets, his hands fisted, punching the air. “No! No! What did you do? What?” he yelled, his cries hoarse and raspy with emotion.
“Lane,” I whispered while holding my side after shifting to the other side of the bed. “Lane,” I said quietly again, afraid of what might happen if I said it louder. I wasn’t equipped to care for someone this way. I’d been tasked with doing it for myself all my life, and look how shitty that turned out.
What was he screaming about? Was it the darkness that lingered in his eyes, that indefinable something I’d seen in him before?
Luckily, Brooks had gotten up from the corner of the room where he had been resting, and came straight to the side of the bed where Lane was sleeping. Apparently concerned, Brooks poked his wet nose into Lane, jarring him out of his nightmare.
“Shit,” Lane said, coming awake. He ran a trembling hand along his forehead, then pushed it back through his messy hair. He wasn’t facing me, but I could feel anger and an unwelcome embarrassment radiating from him. Whether he admitted it or not, he was a playboy, and this wasn’t how playboys drifted off to sleep after fucking their girl.
Unsure of what else to do, I placed my hand on his shoulder and asked, “Lane, you okay?”
He slowly turned my way, his eyes no longer the cornflower blue of a bright sky, and they were certainly no longer happy. They were muddled and pained, a sea of roiling emotions that I couldn’t dive into. I wasn’t a strong enough swimmer.
“Shit, Bess. Fuck!” He sat up in bed and rummaged around for his shirt, whipping it on before grabbing his boxer briefs and throwing those on in a fury. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stood up and paced beside the bed, his brow furrowed, his mind more than likely racing between fight or flight.
His breathing was heavy, his eyes frantic and wild, and I felt the need to go to him. Gingerly, I brought my feet out of bed, pain jabbing my side from the movement. As I stood, I held my ribs, trying to act like I was stretching. No such luck.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?” Lane asked, marching over to me when I should have been running to him.
“Nothing. You just clipped me in your sleep,” I said, trying to be vague.
“Don’t do that, Bess. Don’t be all naive and pretend what just happened didn’t freak you the fuck out. One minute I’m making ... I mean, we’re having sex, and the next I’m punching the shit out of you and waking up in a terror.”
“Well, I was worried,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and soothing. “But you’re up and we can talk about it now if you want.” I ran my hand down his cheek.
Isn’t that what I should say?I felt like I needed to call Shirley or May. I was at a loss, clueless about what to do next.
He swatted my hand out of the way and stepped back. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s an old bad dream. Haven’t had it in years, and now it’s back. Probably stress.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond because before I could open my mouth, he turned away and said, “I gotta roll. I’m really sorry, but I have to cut this visit short. I can’t stay and risk hurting you.”
Lane was out the door and peeling down the gravel driveway in his Jeep before I could even wrap myself in my robe and get to the door to watch him pull away.
