Page 69 of Free to Believe
And stop dead in my tracks.
Sitting in a vase on the counter are some of the hydrangea that grow rampant around the yard. There’s a folded piece of paper beneath them. Trembling, I walk directly to it.
I want to see you again. PS - I locked the door using the master after I took out Mugsy.
I know that Jake meant the gesture to be sweet; he could have no idea behind the dual meaning of hydrangea and how eerily perfect they are in this moment in time. When I broke up with a long-ago boyfriend, I was sent them. After throwing them out, Phil told me they stood for two things: heartfelt emotions and heartlessness.
Which one are we going to wind up being, Jake?I think wearily as I reach out to touch the delicate blooms. Some of the petals fall to the table. But even as I turn away, I know I’m going to be with him again. Because for the first time in forever, I feel alive inside. I don’t feel trapped inside walls of my own making.
Flopping on the sectional, I grab my journal. When the last page is open, waiting, I stare blankly out at the ocean view before a cool wet nose nuzzles against my hand. “Hey, old man. I’m glad Jake took you out.”
Mugsy just thumps his tail in response before leaping up onto the couch and curling next to me.
Closing my eyes, I stroke his silky fur. I frown when I feel a bump near his head. “Seems like you’re getting another one of those cysts, baby.”
He lets out a sigh under my tender ministrations. We sit like that for a few minutes before I hear his soft snore. Opening my eyes, I smile softly. He’s completely out. Shifting, I reach for the charcoals on the coffee table. Picking one up, I begin capturing the erotic memories of last night, beginning with the look on Jake’s face as he walked toward me.
* * *
A few hours later,an impromptu nap is disturbed by the landline in the apartment ringing. Groggily, I reach over for the receiver. “Hello?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been asleep since I left you this morning.” Jake’s voice, deep and amused, is on the other end.
Yawning in his ear, I know he can’t see my body’s reaction to just his voice.You’re in control, Em, I tell myself. “No, Mugsy and I just were taking a little puppy nap.”
“That sounds like fun,” he says wistfully.
“Hmm, it was. I suppose I should shower though.”
There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line. “You haven’t showered yet?”
My curls dance crazily around my head as I shake it. “No, I’ve been very lazy.”
“Hold on a sec.”
I hear him tell people he’ll be right back. “Unlock your door, Em.”
Confused, I ask, “Why?”
“Just do it.” I can hear his footsteps on the decking that connects our two decks.
I jump up from the couch, leaving the phone where it is. Running into the bathroom, I slather a toothbrush with paste and run it over my teeth. Looking in the mirror, I cringe seeing the aftereffects of last night’s makeup over my face. Grabbing a couple of wipes, I run back out just in time to see Jake at the bottom of the stairs. Quickly, I unlock the back slider before racing over to the full-length mirror. There’s nothing I can do about the corkscrew curls dancing around my head, but the raccoon eyes… I’m frantically scrubbing at my face in the mirror when the door slides open on the track behind me. And I freeze.
If I thought my desire for him was an aberration, a quench that could be satisfied by a night, seeing him shatters that illusion. I’m almost resentful of the fact that Jake just standing in my space causes a flood of heat in between my legs. My hand holding the wipe drops from my face as our eyes meet in the mirror. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you really think I could know that your body was still marked by us and I wouldn’t do anything to find out if it was true?” He makes his way around the furniture until he’s standing behind me.
His hands slide off my shoulders and down my arms until they reach my fingertips. In the mirror, I watch him gather them together until they’re both behind my back. While my breasts are displayed more prominently, I also have access to the ridge of his cock that was pressed up against me.
“I love the idea that your body holds our scent.” He drops his head and nuzzles his way past my hair to my skin. “I love that you didn’t immediately race to wash away our night together.”
Our breathing is harsh in the quiet room. His free hand roams over my T-shirt and my upper thighs while his lips sear the side of my face and my throat. I let out a low moan in response.
“I want to find your soft opening and fill it with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. Tell me you want that too.”
I don’t even hesitate. “I do,” I whisper. Slowly, he releases my hands and cups my face.
“Let me come back to you, Em. Tonight— every night—as long as we have them.”
