look at her face.
She surprised me by pressing her lips against mine. She rolled her tongue over my lips causing
me to instantly go hard. I opened my mouth for her. We were both embraced in each other. I rolled us
over again so I was on top of her. “Sylvie, what are you doing?”
“What do you think?”
“Talk to me, baby,” I said, gripping her arms and holding her slightly away from me so she
would look at me.
“I may not be talking, but I’m definitely communicating. Will you please listen? I need you, Cal.”
That was enough for me. I returned her kisses, but there was something hungry and desperate in
her touch. It was almost feral, and it caused me to match her motions. I pressed my mouth against her
neck, licking her salty skin, moving down the familiar path. She shifted up, and I lifted my T-shirt off
her and rolled down her panties. I kissed her again, letting her dominate me. She took my bottom lip
inside her mouth, slowly manipulating it. I did the same with her top lip. Our tongues danced and
darted, our breathing sped up and our hands explored each other.
“I need you inside of me,” she said with desperation.
Her fingers roamed down my chest, into the waistband of my boxers, grasping my erection. She
stroked me in her delicate hands, forming a tight circle with her fingers, moving up and down my
length. I groaned in response. I eased inside her with my fingers, shocked at how slick she was. I
pushed her legs apart and took both her hands, holding them above her head. I moved inside her and
began thrusting. Our mutual need was too great and I found myself propelling deeply with carefree
abandon, feeling the tightness of her walls embrace and welcome me. Her legs encircled my hips,
rubbing against my ass. Her soft body became wetter with every movement while my hard body
became even harder.
“You feel so perfect,” I stammered between breaths. A small, annoying thought crept into my
mind about why she felt extra incredible right now, but I quickly shoved it away.
“Fuck me hard, Cal.”
The words were my undoing. “Baby, please tell me you’re close because I am. I am going to
come so fucking hard inside of you.”
Her arms tightened around my shoulders. I lifted her ass off the bed, going even deeper, rocking
into her with every part of my anatomy. Our bodies moved in rhythmic pleasure, aided by the moist
sheen of sweat that glistened on our skin. “Don’t let go of me,” I warned her.
“I won’t,” she moaned. I meant it in the physical sense, but I knew her response was emotional.
“I love you,” I said.
She nodded in reply. I shook my head, my words coming out like a harsh garbled command. “I
need the words, baby. Say them.”
“I love you, Cal. I am yours.”
With that I couldn’t contain it anymore. “Tell me you’re close ’cause I sure the fuck am.”
“Oh, God, yes,” she screamed, rolling her head back. She tightened, shivered and released her
climax. I buried my face into her neck, moving once more before I came hard and fast, filling her with
my seed.
Fuck.
I rolled off her, lying next to her for a few seconds, trying to wrap my head around what had just
happened. We were both covered in sweat and breathing heavily, but I managed to stumble to the
bathroom to get her a damp towel. I turned on the hallway light so I would be able to see her. I sat on
the edge of the bed and wiped her down.
“You’ve never done this before,” she said, staring at me.
I discarded the towel in the laundry basket. I kissed her, gently. “What was your dream about?”
“That night, except in my dream you died.”
“I’m right here and so are you. I’m sorry you had a nightmare, but I loved the consequences of
it.”
“Yeah, I guess I just lost control. I was pretty caught up in the moment.”
“We both were in the moment. So much so that neither of us remembered the condom.”
She cupped her hand to her mouth, blinking rapidly. I took her hand to calm her. “I promise I’m
clean. I’ve been tested and…”
“I’m not worried about that.” She sat up, pulling her long legs up to her chest and wrapping her
arms around them. Her hair fell over her, covering her like a mask.
“Are you mad at me for this?” I pushed the long curly strands out of the way, wanting to
understand why she looked so upset.
“It was definitely my fault too. Probably more so than yours.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“What if I get pregnant, Cal?”
I put a hand on each side of her face and lifted it so she was looking at me, and clearly seeing my
smile. “Then we deal with it. It would be a happy surprise.” She didn’t reply. I frowned, moving back
to my side of the bed, hoping she would clue me into whatever it was she needed to hear right now.
She pressed her hands to my chest, crawling over me, but there was nothing sexual about it. She
was panicked. “How can you say that?”
“How can you not?” I asked pointedly. She looked close to tears, though, so I turned the tight
grimness I was feeling into a soft smile for her benefit. I clasped her arms. “We talked about this kind
of thing once, remember? The pulling out method,” I said, trying to calm her, but it seemed to have no
effect.
She furrowed her brow. “Yes, but you didn’t pull out, did you?”
“Sylvie, I realize the timing isn’t great and it wouldn’t be the ideal order of things, but I assure
you, if you ended up pregnant I would be a very happy man.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Bringing a baby into our already complicated
lives…well, that’s just really irresponsible.” She moved her legs over, and got on her side with her
back toward me.
I was fighting the urge not to give in to the frustration I felt with her statement. I lay back in bed,
staring at the ceiling for a minute, trying to get the rampant thoughts in my head in order. “What the
fuck are we doing?”
She turned to me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…this thing we have feels so perfect. So right, and yet so stagnant too. Maybe it’s too
soon to say this, but I’ve never held back with you, not even when we were kids, so I’m just going to
tell you what I’m feeling. I want to have babies with you…lots of them. I hope to God they’re all as
beautiful, smart and kind as you. Frankly, it really makes me sad that you don’t share those feelings. I
want to take you home to meet my family or re-meet them. At least then they can stop worrying so
much about me. They miss you too, you know. I want us to belong to each other in every way two
people are tied, but it’s like we can’t get past this fucking line. Like we’re living in purgatory.”
She rubbed my shoulder, peering over me. “Cal, of course I want your babies, but I don’t think
it’s a good idea for us to have children…at least not right now. Honestly, I don’t know if I will
change my mind on that. I don’t want to put another life in danger, especially not a child. I’m so sorry.
I never wanted this for you. I swear it. Besides the risks of being with me, I never wanted you to make
these sacrifices because I know first-hand how unfair they are. I wanted you to have a normal
relationship and do all of those things that real people do. That’s the other reason I never dated you in
high school. That I stayed away all these years. I wanted you to have all the things you deserved.”
She was crying and I felt like a complete idiot. This girl had never had anything normal, not even
her name. I had just successfully fed into all her self-doubts and guilt about us, justifying those
feelings for her.
I turned to her, but she had her back to me now. I knew she was trying to hide her tears. “Sylvie,
please look at me. I need you to look at me when I say this to you.”
She turned, lying flat on her back. She tried wiping away the tears, but I got there first, kissing
them away. “Baby, I’ve told you I love you with all the adjectives that exist in my vocabulary. But let
me tell you this, those sacrifices you’re talking about, I understand your reasoning. I can live with
them and you’re right, we can’t have a baby right now. So we’ll get you the morning-after pill
tomorrow and pray that you’re not pregnant, okay?” She didn’t reply. “One thing that I’m not willing
to sacrifice is you.” I buried my face into her neck, not wanting her to see the tears that were
threatening to form at the corners of my eyes. “I can’t handle losing you again. Please don’t leave me,
okay?”
She ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my cheek. “We don’t have to get the pill. We’ll
just pray. I love you, Tex. Let’s go to sleep.”
I fell asleep in her arms, feeling the comfort that only she provided me.
It wasn’t until the next morning that the dread set in.
She had never answered my question.
Chapter Seventeen
“‘Look, darlin’, it’s Johnny Ringo. Deadliest pistoleer since Wild Bill, they say.’” Tony greeted
me with the
Tombstone
quote, bumping Molly’s shoulder. We often quoted
Tombstone
since we both
liked it so much. He motioned the waitress for another round.
“‘Why, it’s the drunk piano player. You’re so drunk, you can’t hit nothin’. In fact, you’re
probably seeing double,’” I replied, adding my own quote. I shook his hand. “How come you always
get to be Doc Holliday?”
He smiled. “’Cause I’m the hero.”
“I think Wyatt Earp was the hero.”
“It’s debatable.”
“Hey, Molly,” I greeted, before taking up residence in my usual seat.
“You’ve been avoiding us,” she replied with iciness in her tone that I wasn’t used to.
“I’ve been busy.” I hoped she would let it go at that. I should have known better. They had both
texted and called me and I
had
been avoiding them. We usually met up every week like clockwork,
but I had bailed on them since finding Sylvie. I didn’t want to give up a minute with her. The only
reason I was here at all was because she needed to finish one of her portraits tonight and she insisted
I get out of her hair.
“Busy with your new girl?” Tony asked. Damn, I wasn’t sure if he was drunk or it had just
slipped his mind, but I’d asked him not to bring it up in front of Molly. It wasn’t that I was hiding that
I was in love, but I knew it would only hurt her. Molly had pretty much laid her heart out for me, and I
couldn’t reciprocate those feelings.
Molly sat straighter in her chair, and leaned into the table. “You’re dating someone?”
Fuck.
“Oh no, Molls, our boy’s in love,” Tony replied with a grin. I kicked him under the table.
“I’m seeing someone. Want to play pool?”
“Is it serious?” she asked with a false hope in her voice that made me feel guilty.
I’d been very clear from the start that I was still in love with the girl I’d met when I was ten. At
first Molly had thought it was cute, endearing, as women often did. She’d said we could be casual.
Then she had wanted more, so we’d become exclusive. I hadn’t minded because I genuinely liked her
company, but I’d always been clear that my heart belonged to someone else. After a while, Molly
hadn’t been able to handle it. I’d tried breaking up with her, apologizing to her, letting her know how
special she was, but that whole ‘it’s me, not you’ deal never worked. Molly was a sweet girl with a
nurturing heart, and a bubbly personality, and after several weeks of being pissed at me, she’d asked
if we could remain friends.
I’d been cautious about the arrangement, but we were both lonely so we’d kept each other
company. Occasionally our friendship had spilled into quick, dirty sex when one of us needed it. The
friends-with-benefits angle had satisfied my physical cravings and her longings, but in the end, it
hadn’t been fair to her. She deserved so much more than someone who couldn’t return her feelings.
The last time she’d cried afterwards. That was a few months ago, and I’d told her we couldn’t
do this anymore. She had still wanted to be friends, though, and my selfish self had agreed, because I
really needed a friend. Our relationship was dysfunctional, maybe even delusional, but it worked.
There had been other sexual encounters, but Molly was my only relationship besides Sylvie.
Fuck.
What the hell was Sylvie going to think about me hanging out with my ex-girlfriend? I hadn’t
even thought about it when I’d agreed to meet them. This was new territory for me. What would I
think if Sylvie did this? I’d be pissed as hell. I couldn’t dwell on it too long because both Molly and
Tony were staring at me, expecting an answer.
“Very serious.” I knew she wanted more information, but I wasn’t about to give it to her.
“How long?”
“Does it matter, Molly?”
“Yes, it does, Caleb. It matters to me. How long?” She swigged the rest of her beer with the skill
of a sailor on shore leave. She wiped her mouth and stared at me.
“Almost a month.”
“Well, glad to see that you’re finally letting go of your past.” The plied sugariness in her voice