•★ Tex ★•
I nod eagerly. "Yep."
Fuck, that come out too high-pitched.
She chuckles but can't hide her own nervousness. Why are we nervous? We've fucked a hundred times before. Will it be different? Can I still make her feel good?
Before following her, I take a breather. Literally. My emotions are all over the damn place, but one of them remains steady ... love. It's all that matters right now. Everything else can be dealt with later. My only priority is making love to the girl who owns me entirely.
When I enter the bathroom, she's untangling her hair and still fully dressed. The dirty cotton pads suggest she was busy removing the smudged mascara from her face. The room is very small, giving us no option other than to stand close to each other. Despite her cold skin, her warmth radiates my way.
She turns the shower on and then turns to me. Slowly, her clothes come off. Am I staring and drawing shaky breaths like an outright pervert? Abso-fucking-lutely. She's so lovely, so entirely gorgeous. Her ribs move underneath her skin when she reaches above her head to remove the tank top she wore under her blouse. She seems self-conscious with the way she's hesitating to continue getting naked.
I slurp back some drool from the corner of my mouth. "Please, don't stop now. Keep going."
A blush touches her cheeks, but she unbuttons her jeans and hooks her thumbs behind the waistband. "I never thought this would happen again. I didn't shave or anything."
My shoulders shrug. "Doesn't matter to me. You could be an auburn Yeti for all I care. I just wanna see all that I've been missing for months."
She smiles shyly and then rolls down the wet denim. This ain't some Gillette commercial. Her legs aren't perfectly tanned and silky smooth. They are pale and blotchy from the cold. And yet, they are absolutely perfect. Why? Simple. Because this is reality and not some staged scene.
In nothing but a simple pair of matching underwear, she stands before. "Do I still appeal to your eye?"
I hold my chin between my thumb and index finger, observing her with great care. "Hard to say. If I wanna know for sure, you gotta take off your bra."
She knows I'm kidding because the big bulge down my jeans is visibly nudging the zipper. Fortunately, she moves her fingers to the back. "Ready?"
My eyes stick to her chest. "As ready as they come."
The tops of her tits jiggle when she pulls at the tiny hooks. Great stuff but not nearly as great as the full frontal I receive a second later when her bra hits the floor. If anyone wondered why I'm as pale as a ghost, it's because all my blood is now residing in my shaft. I haven't been this hard in months. Her rosy nipples are puckered and begging to be sucked on. I don't move, though. In all honesty, I'm afraid that I'll shoot my load if I move at all.
"You might want to take off your clothes as well." She flashes me a teasing grin before sliding down her pink panties and disappearing behind the shower curtain.
With sleight of hand, my clothes come off. I wouldn't be surprised if just broke the speed record for undressing. When I join her, I cuss once and then quickly throw my socks on the sink. Her back is facing me, long dark red hair reaches the middle of her spine. My eyes rake her body, appreciating the tiny waist and round ass that have visited my every dream.
To torture us both a little and to enhance the anticipation, I don't press myself against her. Thankfully, I have one of those belly-slappin' boners, so I can stand fairly close without poking her. I take the purple bottle of shower gel from the ledge and put some on my hands, rubbing them together to create foam. Electric jolts ricochet through my body when I put my hands on her shoulders.
Easy, dick.
Patience is virtue.
"I've missed your skin," I confess, moving my hands down her arms to her hips. "I've missed everything about you."
Her back presses against my pecs and her head leans on my shoulder. "I've missed you too. I can't even begin to tell you how much. I love you so, so much, Tex."
My lips brush her ear. "And I love you."
Why did I ever deny myself the pleasure of saying those simple but absolutely true words?
She turns to me. Her fingers start an explorative journey from my chest to my abdomen. Hanging up that punching bag in the garage was a good idea. I got that V-thing girls like and from the way she's biting her lip, I'd say she likes it very much.
Instead of greeting my pleading dick with a firm handshake, she takes half a step back and whispers, "Show me how you love me."
I inch closer and grace the tips of my fingers along the skin of her neck, all the way to her sides. "I love you like this. Soft and tender."
Her body softy trembles under my gentle touch. "But I also love you like this." I grab her ass cheeks and pull her against my groin, causing her breath to hitch. "Raw and hard. Jesus, Birdie, I love you so fucking hard."
She throws her arms around my neck. "Take me, please. I need to feel you."
"Gladly." I lift her up and press her against the tiles, giving her tits some attention. While I suck on her perky nipple, an unwelcome thought invades my mind.
Did she fuck someone else?
Reluctantly, I look up. "Do we—uhm—need a condom?"
Her pussy slithers over my length with impatience. "I'm still on the pill."
Yeah, should've thought about that too, but that's not what I meant. "Any other reason?"
She seems confused and then her eyes grow wide. "No, I haven't slept with anyone—"
It's all I need to hear. I angle her hips and push myself inside, kissing her hard at the same time. My vision has returned, edging brightly like a halo. Sure, I'm an obscene guy, but having my dick inside her is more than a dirty desire. It provides the deepest connection possible.
Pun unintended but appreciated.
We move in an eager entanglement of loving lips and longing limbs. With every thrust, I say, "I love you," and with every thrust, the same lovely words spill from her lips.
I twist my hips a bit to hit her exactly how she likes it, making sure to grind her clit with my pubic bone. "Can you come like this?
Her moans shoot up an octave. "Almost there."
Fuck yeah.
"Good, 'cause I'm about to explode so hard I might die." I tighten my grip on her ass and pound her pussy without restraint. She clenches around me, coming hard, but I don't slow down to give her a chance to breathe. I've been pining for this moment for months and now that it's finally happening, I can't stop.
"Birdie, you feel so damn good."
A little faster.
"I'm gonna come."
A little deeper.
"Fuuuck ... " I groan like a brainless primitive, which is basically what I am right now, and shoot my entire load inside of her. While little satisfied murmurs spill from her lips, I bury my face in her neck and hold us still for a moment. The scent of her apple shampoo drags a tear from my eye. No more sniffing a bottle like a psycho while fucking my own hand. I have the real thing again. I have to her.
I don't wanna let her go, but my energy is drained, so I slide out and put her back on her feet. She grabs the shower head and cleans herself between the legs. Something serious has crept on her face, as if she's afraid to speak. I just wanna hear her laugh and joke around like we used to do.
I cup her cheek and run my thumb across her bottom lip. "Where did your smiles go? I remember them to be wide and abundant."
Her eyes dart away. "Like I said, I'm not the same person anymore." When I frown, she quickly adds, "But now that you're here, I have more than enough reasons to smile again."
If it's up to me—and it is—that hint of darkness that clouded her tone will disappear soon enough. "I'll do my best to bring a permanent one to your lips."
Immediately after turning the shower off and putting the head back in its holder, she wraps her arms around my middle and hugs my chest with her face, murmuring, "I'm so happy right now, Tex."
I stroke her wet hair. "I'm so fucking happy too."
When I finally release her from my grip, she moves past me to wrap herself in a towel and then hands me one as well. "I'll put these in the dryer." She collect our clothes from the floor. "You'll be here when I get back, right?"
My laugh visibly erases the worry from her eyes. "I wasn't planning on walking through Fog City in nothing but a towel. My balls prefer a less drafty environment."
She giggles and leaves the bathroom. I give myself a stern look in the mirror. I need to think healthy thoughts. Long term thoughts. No more fearing the clock this time. There's no need to tie her to my bike and drive her to L.A. with me.
Although ...
No. We're doing this the right way, the healthy way. Satisfied with this mindset, I look for Ellie and find her sitting on her tiny bed, wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitted shirt. I sit next to her, keeping my eyes on the mountain of clothes. She's a fucking slob. Worse than she was with me.
I take a breath. "Time to talk."
She nods. "How was the show last night?"
Did she know I was gonna be here? "You weren't there, were you?"
"No, I found out this morning that you guys were the mystery headliner. Funny thing, I was supposed to be there." Neither of us laughs. "Jonathan was taking me, but I canceled last last minute. If I had known you were playing, I would've been there."
I pick at the edge of the towel and confess, "I thought I saw you in the crowd, but it was just a random redhead."
A sad sigh falls from her lips. "I wish it were me."
"Yeah, me too." I don't wanna come across as pushy, but I really need to find out who this motherfucker is. "This, um, Jonathan, does he support you financially? I mean, since you live with him."
"No, we both work at the MAX." When I raise a clueless brow, she clarifies, "It's a museum. I also ... "
Instead of finishing her sentence, she starts chewing her bottom lip. Why is she nervous? I nudge her with my shoulder. "Also what?"
Another second of silence and then, "I take photos."
This is new. "As a hobby or something?"
"Mostly, but I've been commissioned to shoot some weddings and such." She retrieves her laptop from the desk and hands it to me. I hadn't even noticed the professional-looking gear in the corner.
I flip through the series of wedding photos. To be honest, I wasn't expecting them to be this good. It's not that I purposely underestimate her, it's just that I didn't even know she likes photography. "I'm impressed, Birdie. Like really, really impressed."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really." I chuckle and open another folder because, well, I'm nosy like that. My jaw drops. "Holy fuck! You gotta be kidding me."
I don't believe in fate but fuck me if this ain't exactly that.
She leans my way. "What's wrong?"
"You're the anonymous artist! 'Birds of San Francisco' is your creation."
Surprise shows on her face. "How do you know?"
"I was at the gallery today. I didn't even wanna go inside, but I saw these weird bird-pictures, so I went in anyway."
Her fingers fumble nervously. "What did you think of them? Are they any good?"
"Any good? Are you fucking serious? I was completely blown away. I've never seen anything like it, but ... " I place the laptop on the nightstand, trying to find the right words. "They're so dark. I mean, I'm familiar with dark thoughts. I don't want you to have them too."
"Don't worry. I was only trying to step out of my comfort zone. I thought it would be ... enlightening to watch the world the way you see it."
Oddly, I find it endearing that she tried to understand my macabre mindset. "You thought about me when you took these pictures?"
Without hesitation, she answers, "Of course, I always think about you."
Same, Birdie. Fucking same.
I take her hands in mine. "Come lie with me."
We let ourselves fall sideways on the bed, both our heads on the same pillow and our noses but an inch apart. The air is heavy with unspoken thoughts and questions. Even though I'm really proud of her for finding her passion, I hate that I wasn't part of it. I could've helped her. Did we grow apart? It seems that way, but it doesn't feel that way.
"Tex?"
"Hmm?"
"Are we together again?"
Her eyes are begging for an affirmative answer. Only one thing, the truth, comes to mind. "I don't think we were ever truly apart. I was always yours."
She nods quickly, lip quivering. "I was always yours too."
I pull her close and breathe her in. Her scent provides a sense of belonging. Maybe it's just a chemical trick, but who doesn't like magic? Okay, I'd rather undergo root canal treatment than go to one of those lame Las Vegas shows. Anyway, point being, I love love. There, I said it. I love being in love with Ellie.
While I'm being a sappy fucker, Ellie falls asleep in my arms. It would've been a peaceful thing, weren't it for the fact that she's snoring loud enough to wake the dead. That's okay, though. Apparently, I missed that too.
I trail my fingers up and down her waist. Is she really in my arms right now? There's always the off chance that I had a breakdown and am now tripping balls on LSD in a gutter somewhere.
No, this is real.
I can feel her heartbeat sync with mine.
After a moment of creepy staring, I slip out of bed to fetch us something to eat, moving like a damn ninja so she doesn't wake. She lost some weight. Not an alarming lot, but noticeably. Since my clothes are still in the dryer and the damp towel is cold, I take her pink shorts from the floor and put them on. Ah shit. They're shorter and tighter than I thought. I look absolutely ridiculous.
Fuck it.
Since this apartment is cramped as fuck, I find the kitchen on the first try. Where the hell is her lifetime supply of Pop-Tarts? I open all the cabinets but find not a single sweet treat. Only kitchen stuff and big containers with protein powder. That Jonathan must be fitness-freak. I swear, if he has an eight-pack, I'm gonna—
"I didn't think I'd live to see the day but lo and behold, it's the infamous Tex."
I jump at the sound of a male voice and then manage to sorta turn with a cool face. To my utmost annoyance, I must conclude that Jonathan is a way too handsome fucker. He doesn't have an eight-pack, though. How do I know this? Because he's wearing nothing but a tiny towel around his waist! When did he get home? Does he always walk around half-naked? Jesus. Has Ellie seen his junk?
My brows produce a sincere scowl. "You better believe it."
He chuckles and gestures at the opened cabinets and drawers. "Looking for anything?"
Might as well get some answers from him. "Where is her stash of sweets?"
"Her what?"
Is he slow or something? Impatiently, I reply, "You know ... her Pop-Tarts, butterscotch candies, triple chocolate chip cookies, full-size candy bars, Gummy Bears, English Licorice, Twizzlers—
He holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, I get the picture. Why would she have those when she doesn't eat sugar?"
What?
"I beg your fucking pardon? Do you even know her? She will literally go into withdrawal if she doesn't consume at least a metric cube of sugar on a daily basis. I once hid all her all her sweets because, honestly, her addiction is pure madness, and she got really queasy. Sure, she was probably faking it but still, she can't live without her snacks."
His arms fold over his chest like he's half-amused and half-serious. "I'll treasure this anecdote for years to come, but I'm being serious, there's nothing here. In fact, last week, she got super mad when I shoved a piece of the birthday cake she baked for me but wouldn't eat in her face."
Strange. She never got mad when I shoved food in her face. His explanation doesn't make much sense to me. "Why? What did she say?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "She stormed into her room, yelling something about me messing up her promises. I figured it was that time of the month. Some chicks turn into menstrual monsters when aunt Flo comes to visit."
I fight a chuckle. Like hell I'm gonna laugh with the guy who's trying to steal my girl. It's gonna be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. Time for some mild intimidation.
I square my shoulders and tense all my muscles a little so he knows who he's up against. "Look, I don't know if your plan is to win her over by getting all domestic with her, but it ain't happening. She belongs to me like stars belong in the sky and fish in the ocean. I'm not gonna share her with you, or anyone, for that matter. And I sure as hell ain't backing down because you think you got a claim on her."
He snickers. "Big words for a guy in booty shorts."
Ah fuck.
I shrug, pretending to be unaware of my barely clothed body and visibly outlined package. "Just telling you how it is."
His fingers twist a strain of his blond hair while he thinks my words over. "Well, your speech left an impression. Truly, it's one for the books, but I'm not attracted to Ellie in the slightest because I'm—"
"Fucking blind?" I throw my hands up as my mind goes in overdrive. How dare he dismiss her looks. "Her ass is a perfect peach and her honeydew-tits are precisely the right size. Don't even get me started on her cherry cheeks and strawberry lips."
He stares at me, mouth agape. "Are you seriously annoyed that I don't want to bone her? Dude, you're a walking contradiction. Did anyone ever tell you that?"
Yup.
I lean back against the counter. "It may have been a topic of discussion with my shrink."
"Didn't expect you to be that honest but okay. What I was trying to say is that I'm not attracted to her because I'm a friend of Dorothy."
Is some sorta riddle? "Who the fuck is Dorothy?"
He sighs. "Let me rephrase so you understand, I'm gayer than a mouthful of dick."
Ding, ding, ding.
Those words I do understand. It means he poses no threat. In fact, he could act as some sorta buffer between Ellie and any mofo who thinks he has a chance with her. My mind feels lighter immediately. "Excellent news. Now we don't have to duel it out at dusk at some shady roadside parking lot."
"You're a strange guy but ... " His eyes go over my physique and an appreciative nod follows. "I can see why she didn't want to let go of you."
I'm not uncomfortable. "What can I say? I'm easy on the eyes."
His horse-laugh is sorta funny. "I thought Ellie was exaggerating, but your ego is as big as she said it was."
What else did she say? "Did she, um ... talk about me a lot?"
"Not much." My head drops until he adds, "Unless you consider every day, all day as much. I don't think she even realized she was always rambling about you." His voice pitches purposely to mimic Ellie dramatically. "Tex would love this movie. Tex is a way better singer than that guy. The sky has the exact same color as Tex' eyes." A sly grin appears before he says, "Tex does this thing with his tongue—"
"All right, I get it. She loves talking about me." I much rather hear that last thing come from her own lips.
His smirk softens into a smile. "She loves you very much."
Am I grinning like a dumb idiot? Yup.
He's a good guy. I mean, he found a bird with a broken wing and nursed it back to health. That says something about someone's character.
Genuine but somewhat awkwardly, I say, "I suppose, I should thank you for looking out for her. It seems she really has her life in order."
Uncertainty nags my mind. I've tried to ignore the fact that her new apartment looks sorta cozy. Homely, almost. What's gonna happen? How will we be together?
He nods slowly. "I knew she was a bit of a project when I met her and yes, she's doing well in many ways, but I don't have the tools to fix her broken her heart. Only you do."
My spirit rises. A little too sly, I say, "I definitely got the right tools."
He responds to my dick-joke with a closed-eyes head shake and then asks, "Where's she now?"
I nod backwards to her bedroom. "She's asleep, snoring like a wounded bear."
A dent shows amidst his brows. "Really?"
"Yeah. Why? You never heard that before? These walls must be paper thin."
"Believe me, I know how loud her snores can be." He snorts before getting serious again. "They just hardly ever bother me because she hardly sleeps. Stress-related insomnia, the doctor thinks. He gave her sleeping pills."
The fuck?
Something worries my gut. "Why doesn't she sleep? She never had that problem when she lived with me."
He shakes his head like I'm being dumb and, honestly, I feel a little dumb. Our separation was as hard on her as it was on me. It kills me that she had trouble sleeping over missing me. Well, I'm here now. Things will get better.
He pats me on the shoulder and walks past me. "I'm sure I'll see you around."
I nod with certitude. "Definitely."
My food-hunt has failed, so I grab a can of soda from the fridge in case Ellie wakes. Goddammit. Even the soda is sugar free. I'll address this strange sugar-ban in the morning. First, I'm gonna crawl into bed with my girl. I slip under the cover and gently work my arm under head so I can pull her close. Next, I manage to get my leg between hers without waking her. She's so damn pretty. Even with her mouth half open. Despite the fact that I don't need her to heal my mind, I need her to heal my heart and right now, it feels whole again.
Ellie suddenly whimpers. "No, please ... "
"Birdie?"
Her eyes move frantically under her lids. Is she having a nightmare? I don't wanna wake her now that she's sleeping, but when a tear rolls down her cheek and her lip starts to tremble, I nudge her shoulder. "Birdie, wake up. You're having a bad dream."
Her eyes shoot open, staying wide with fear. "Tex? Are you really here?"
"Yeah, of course." I gently rub her shoulder to ease her concern. "I'm here with you."
The fear slowly ebbs away. "For a second, I thought you were ... gone."
After planting a soft kiss on her forehead, I press her face against my chest. "Everything will be all right. You should get some more sleep. I'll be here when you wake."
♬♬♬♬
A/N
🥰🥰🥰
X Dionne