Page 40 of Begin Again
Fuck yes, she can.
All I want to do is strip her out of that dress and have my way with her. It seems she has the same idea. She drops the purse on the dresser and closes the space between us, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind and kissing my neck. A soft hum rumbles in my throat in response as I lean back into her embrace before she tugs my shoulders turning me around. I plant my hands on either side of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine, and when her fingers brush over my already semi-hard cock, it sends all the blood rushing there.
My need for breath is greater than I’d like it to be. When my lungs force me to take a deep breath, it pulls me from the memory. I brace my palms against the wall.
Without even thinking about it, my fist wraps my cock and the image ofherdropping to her knees infiltrates my mind. Her mauve-painted lips form an “O” as she bats her lashes, looking up at me. My fingers tangle in those warm chocolate waves, tugging her hair as her tongue laps the underside of my dick.
Fuck, why can’t this be real? There is something different here than last night. Something I’ve never had with Charlie: a longing to have this woman wrapped around me, to feel her heart beat against mine as she comes undone. I stroke myself, imaginingsheis here, and my mental image changes. Suddenly she’s on her knees on the floor of this very shower.
I groan as she licks the head of my cock, and after a few more, she takes me fully into her mouth, as far back as she can. “Fuck, beautiful. If you’re not careful, I’ll come in that pretty mouth.” My words make her smile, and she simultaneously moves her hand and mouth.
My throat grows tight as my hand tightens around my base, pulling and stroking, eyes screwed shut as the water beats down on my back. I want this to be real so fucking bad. No, Ineedit to be.
Sheswitches between deep sucks and long strokes of her tongue. When she looks up at me through her thick eyelashes, there’s a slight quirk in the corner of her mouth. She feels so good, according to my imagination, and sheknowsit. That’s the sexiest thing of all.
I fist my hand in her hair, pushing my cock deeper down her throat. There’s no hesitation from her. She opens her jaw and takes me deep, and when she moans, I come. A stream of cum hits the tiled wall. My fingernails dig into the tiles above me, using the wall to brace myself as my legs quiver beneath me. Thisrelease is hot and all-consuming, completely different from last night.
I continue to stroke myself and let every last drop fall until it’s washed away.
“Shit.” I sigh, my left palm still braced against the wall.
A daydream isn’t going to be enough. I need the real thing. But it’s not just my body that longs for this woman…
My heart does, too.
An ache deep inside me has kept itself concealed until today. Hearing someoneisout there looking for me—
But not just anyone. My wife…It still didn’t feel real to hear the words spoken, but they are real, andsheis real. And I will do whatever it takes to find my way back to her…Starting with talking to Sloan to figure out what the fuck is going on.
When the water finally runs cold, I turn the dial until it’s at its coldest and let the water rush over me for exactly two Mississippis before turning it off. Rubbing the towel over my head, I wrap it around my waist and meet the reflection in the mirror. I let out a sharp inhale when my fingers graze over the laceration on my cheek, tender to the touch and only going to get worse by tomorrow. At least he didn’t give me a black eye.
For the first time since I arrived in Bezer, I allowed myself to stare at my reflection. Almost every time I’ve come into contact with a mirror over the last year, I avoid lingering in it too long. Why? I can’t stand looking at someone I don’t recognize. Someone I can’t remember.
How do you wake up with no recollection of who you are?Charlie’s words from when I first arrived echo through my mind. And isn’t that the million-dollar question?
Maybe if I had the answer, I’d be able to find a way home…to her…my life.
Find a way back tome.
I stare into the eyes of the reflection again, willing it to remember something—anything—that would help me. I begin to take inventory of the rest of the man in the mirror: shaved head; dark brown hair; facial hair that has started to grow from lack of shaving the past week; almond-shaped, hazel eyes with flecks of gold; a longer-shaped face with a broad forehead and pronounced cheekbones that narrow into a defined jawline; freckles dusting my right cheek and extending up toward my forehead with a single one on the left side of my nose; and four tattoos, but not a single one shakes a memory free.
“Who are you?”
The answer sits at the edge of my mind. I can practically hear it screaming from the edge of the abyss, trying to break through the fog, but it can’t. It’s trapped there, in limbo. I just wish there was an easier way to free it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A LARGE BLACK ESCALADE pulls through the tree line as I leave the barn. From here, I can make out two people in the front seat, and when they get closer, it’s easier to recognize the two men Joseph was talking to at the festival.
Because I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in this town, especially after I tell Sloan about what happened yesterday, I got up early this morning to clean out the stalls and save the horses—and me—from dealing with Charlie’s wrath. It had returned full force last night when she returned from work, and while I’m not sure what set her off, I know seeing my face when she came upstairs didn’t help. She stomped up the rest of the way and slammed her bedroom door behind her, rattling the frames on the wall. Joseph stood at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head with a sigh before disappearing down the hall to retire for the evening.
The front door slams, catching my attention as Charlie stomps down the steps toward my truck. She flings open the passenger door, climbs in, and slams it behind her.
Great. This is going to be a fun day.
Maybe I shouldn’t go to the station today. I don’t think dragging her along on that particular errand is the best idea. I didn’t want to bring her with me in the first place, but Joseph insisted she tag along instead of making multiple trips into town.She and I shared a look. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be in such quarters, but we couldn’t tell Joseph that. He didn’t question when she complained about it—her father was used to Charlie being hot and cold toward me—but if I refused, it would look suspicious and require more explanation than I was willing to give. So, I gave up the fight and told her to be ready by eight o’clock sharp.
“Good luck, Xavier, she’s in one of her moods,” Joseph calls from the porch when he walks out of the house. Settling a cowboy hat on his head, he glances toward my truck and shakes his head.
