Page 19 of All the Promises We Break

I whisper in her ear, “Remember, let me.” My hand slides away from her navel down along the crease of her leg, running along her core. She lightly hisses as she reaches back to wrap herfingers around the base of my neck. “I have so many ways I want this to go but I want to know what you need.”

She sighs. “Oh God. Take me back to Vermont.”

“Oh, fuck yes. With a twist.”

I swirl her clit slowly and easily. Her need is so close to the surface her knees buckle. I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her tight back against my body, until she’s sitting down with me on the wood bench in my lap. Once we’re settled, Dylan arches into my hand. Gentleness is not what she desires.

We begin to breathe in unison as the water rains over both of us. She grinds down into my lap as my one finger rolling over her turns to two. Every arch creates a pressure point I can feel. She is craving a release already. If I’m honest with myself, I woke up dreaming of this.

“Dylan…rise up.”

She holds my hand against her clit, directing my motion as she bends her beautiful back forward, rising to her toes. My cock, now freed from the cage our bodies built, seeks her. I edge myself closer until she can feel me. A throaty groan vibrates her body as she teases herself not only with our hands but with a fractional slide back and forth until she decides she’s ready.

With one slow motion, she sinks back to my lap, our bodies fully connected. Dylan turns her head slowly and her eyes follow. The drops of water on her long lashes are beautiful. The corner of her mouth turns into a sexy smile. “Give me your left hand.”

She slides her left hand down my arm, giving my skin pulses from her touch. My knuckles crack a bit as the edge of her nails glide in between my fingers. Dylan settles for just long enough to roll forward and back. As her back presses tightly against my chest, she slides my hand between her breasts, up and over her collarbone to rest over her throat.

Jesus.

Her muscles relax in her neck. She leaves me in total control. “Move me, Eli. Please.”

How does anything I want to do for her end up giving me the ultimate pleasure? My fingers grip the soft flesh under her chin and test it by offering a playful squeeze. She moans in a way I’ve never heard. “More,” she begs.

Dylan wages war to hold on. Her body, guided in my hands, bounces slowly up and down. Her pleas only spur me on. The splash of the water, the skin on skin, my name being whispered. I can feel the fire, only now it’s not from the water on our skin, it’s from the furnace inside.

Chapter Eight

Elijah

Dylan has an eight o’clock class this morning. She’s kissing me goodbye just as my alarm is going off. I wish I could have pulled her back to bed. I wish we could have continued on with what we were doing last night. I was able to at least sneak a note in her dance bag last night before I fell asleep. My own way of letting her know I’ll be there with her as much as I will feel her with me.

I lie in bed for a few minutes, even after the Dylan vortex sweeps out. I thought once the day came I’d be ready. I’m still nervous. It’s that butterfly feeling you get on the first day of school or the first day of a new job. I think it’s also layered with uncertainty. Can I still do the job effectively? Am I up to it? Will the board hand me a much different fate?

No matter what happens today, it will not change my relationship with Dylan. She comes first and that’s the bottom line. As I repeat it to myself a couple of times, the doubt fades. I know my family supports us and I can find a job anywhere. I don’t think it’ll come to that, but having it in the back of my mind is beyond helpful.

Dylan left me my charcoal suit, white shirt, and turquoise tie on the corner of the bed, with my black dress shoes in the opening of our bedroom door. Hanging from the knob above is my messenger bag. It’s cleaned and ready to go. Upon opening it, I find several gifts. I love the calendar. I hate that I need it right now, but I love it. She packed a couple of my favorite snacks too.

Resting in front of my files and binders, is a composition style notebook. Not since my research days preparing my thesis have I owned one. I open the front cover and taped to the inside are pictures of us. One is from Vermont. We both ended up wiping out skiing and decided to commemorate our snow bath. The second is another selfie sitting on the balcony at sunset.

The third is one I’ve never seen until now. I don’t know who took it, but I’d like to thank them. It’s a picture of Dylan in the costume from her fall senior show. She’s in her blue dress, in a near split with her toes pointed so hard they nearly fade away. Her back is arched in much the way I’ve held so many times in my hands. Her usually wild blonde mane is slicked back into a perfect bun at the base of her neck.

Her right hand is gently splayed back across her calf while the left is capped over her knee. There are diamonds sparkling in her ears and her face is as peaceful as I’ve ever seen her. I can’t imagine a time where she’s been or will be more beautiful than she is in this moment in time.

Across from the pictures is a note from her.

Eli ~

I know today will be hard. Whenever you think you can’t, look at me. Look at us. You always make the impossible seem possible. I’m proud of you.

I love you.

Viper

With words like that, who needs doubt.

AnSa on a Monday is usually quiet, today is no exception. I’m glad for it actually. It gives me a chance to settle in. Monica is in her usual post at reception. She never fails to give me a bright smile. Skye stops me on the way back from getting her morning coffee with a hug. She holds on for that fraction longer than usual. I’ve missed her too.

This is a prime time of year for travel so at least half of the account managers are on trips, which leaves much of my side of the floor empty. The one thing that isn’t missing is Anna. I can hear her voice coming from her desk. I don’t want to disturb her call, so I slip into my open door unnoticed. I have these flashes of déjà vu standing in the doorway.

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