A Little Bit of Truth (Little Bits) (56 page)

I didn’t think, I didn’t speak I just acted.

My lips slanted over his, my cheeks wet with tears and my body slack with pain and maybe a bit of jealousy. My heart hurt worse than anything else, not from the pain or jealousy but from the hurt of knowing that he was hurting.

That’s what love is. Knowing that you’d do anything to take away the pain of the one you love. Knowing that you’d do anything to make them happy again.

So I kissed him, I kissed him long, slow, gentle and then hard, fast and demanding. I kissed him until we were too frenzied with lust to care about anything else. We kissed as we undressed, tearing at each other’s clothes and only breaking apart our lips when clothing had to pass between them.

Our tongues touched as we fell onto the bed, naked and damp from perspiration, hard and wet between our legs. Our entire bodies aching to feel the other.

We kissed as he sank inside of me, causing me to cry into his mouth as my eyes blurred from the ecstasy of the feeling. We kissed slowly with each thrust, exploring each other with our hands, grabbing onto flesh and squeezing as if afraid to let the go.

He groaned and moaned in time with me as we both shared an equal amount of pleasure. As those empty spots in
side of us finally became full again.

We came together with a cry of euphoria, everything connected and touching,
everything perfect. Everything exploding in a burst of color as our muscles tensed and released with an endless orgasm seeming to crash through us both.

Then we slumped, bodies heaving, pants of breath mingling, hair tangled and the sheets beneath us damp with a mixture of our sweat and juices.

“Come home Marie,” he whispered, peppering kisses all over my face. “Come home.”

This time I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t have the strength

“Okay,” I responded quietly and breathily.

His lips touched mine and moved against them gently. He showed me slow, he showed me how much he missed me by taking it easy,
he showed me how much he loved me with every gentle touch and every sweet kiss. Then we bathed and he washed me, worshipping every inch of my skin before I did the same with his.

We fell asleep that night in each other’s arms and for the first time in forever. Everything felt right.

“My little bit of truth,” he whispered against my hair. “Thanks for finding me baby.”

“Thanks for fighting for me.” And I didn’t mean just then. I meant after the first time we had sex, he was and now always will be, the only man who ever truly fought for more than just three nights. He was and now always will be the only man who ever showed me that I’m worth more than that. He was and now always will be the only man who will ever have my entire heart. Because if he leaves me, I’ll never have a whole one to give away and I’ll never regret that.

Never.

Happy New Beginnings

Four months later

Sometimes you can’t rely on someone to fix you. Sometimes you can only fix yourself. It’s a romantic thought, having someon
e come into your life and they make your problems disappear. For me this isn’t realistic, nor is it for Jacob.

We both had our own shit, we both had our own troubles so we kicked each other in the right direction and healed ourselves. Only then could we truly be happy together.

We dated, we took it slow, we got to know each other again as the new people we’d become and realized we liked what we discovered in each other. So after his endless persistence I finally moved back home. Meaning
our
place. (Unfortunately Lancelot didn’t come with us. Mason threatened death upon us both if we touched his cat. Sigh. Who was I to come between a man and his feline friend?)

A relationship based on lies, deception and secrets will never work. Maybe it will for some people but in our case we both knew it wouldn’t. We did the right thing, the best thing for both of us and we came out on top.

I’d like to say it’s a miracle, it feels like one but it’s not. It didn’t happen overnight, it didn’t happen in weeks, we still struggle even now but we struggle knowing that we’ve got each other to fight for
and we’ve got each other for support when times get hard. Then there’s the sweetness in between, so much sweet, the little things all make it worth it.

The fight for the real is hard but it’s worth it in the end.

Jacob still struggles with himself, he’s still learning how to be independent. I struggle to be less independent and to trust Jacob with my needs and my feelings but we manage. No matter how hard it is at times we put complete trust in each other and both of us follow through.

We love each other,
irrevocably, totally and deeply. There’s no going back and I wouldn’t want to. No matter what happens.

I’m his truth, he tells me this quite often. After a life full of pretending he finally found something real. After a life full of shutting everything out, I finally found my real.

Jacob is my heart, he’s the reason it beats. Not the only reason but the biggest reason.

A year ago I never thought I’d be here, not in a million years. Now I laugh at the thought of ever going back.
I don’t miss it at all.

At this realization I roll over with a smile and walk two of my fingers up Jacob’s chest. Then I trace his lips with my index finger and smile wider when he tries to push it off with his tongue. Then I start laughing
silently when he latches onto it with his teeth and starts sucking.

“Who’s being naughty?” he asks around my finger, his voice gruff from just waking, his eyes still shut tight.

“I am.”

“Brilliant,” he flips me over faster than I can see, raises my hi
ps and doesn’t wait to slide into me, giving me a hard slap to my right ass cheek. “Definitely fucking brilliant.”

We fall back to sleep after a long round of doggy style, followed by missionary, followed by the lazy boy, followed by his cock in my mouth and then followed by his mouth on me.

It was an eventful morning so we slept like babies.

Well, I did that’s for sure.

When I wake up I notice something immediately. How can I not? The feeling of it is totally foreign.

I daren’t open my eyes, I daren’t.

But I do.

And then I shut them again.

My heart hammers, my palms sweat as I peek through the split between my lids at whatever the hell it is.

Oh fuck.

“Jacob?” I stammer and prod him. He doesn’t stir in his spot only a foot away from me, he’s fast asleep, or he’s faking it to let me have a moment to gather my thoughts.

After prodding him I see my wrist and gasp.

This is real.

I read the words over and over, repeating them in my mind like a broken record.

He’s written on the inside of my wrist, just below my palm. The writing isn’t tidy as he’s rushed it so I wouldn’t wake
I assume, but it’s perfect because he wrote it.

I read it again, this time hearing his voice in my mind saying the words.

Marry Me?

:-)

Oh dear god I’m going to cry!

I see the pen on the nightstand and reach for it half contemplating crossing the words off my wrist and falling back to sleep so I can pretend this never happened. The more determined side of me has different ideas and I find my free, none married hand reaching for Jacob’s.

I slide his hand over to my married hand, taking the time to admire the ring for a moment, it’s beautiful, it’s elegant,
it’s simple yet flashy. It’s totally me. If I were to pick any ring it would be this one.

Bullshit. If I were given the chance to pick a ring for this reason I’d run out of the store screaming at the top of my lungs.

Cupping his hand with my fingers I bring the pen to his wrist and let out a long breath, then slowly and carefully I respond
with written words.

Slowly and carefully I push the tears back.

Slowly and carefully I place his arm back on his pillow, wrap mine around his chest, the gold ring sparkling in the late morning sun, the diamond casting a rainbow glow upon his golden skin. Then I shut my eyes, snuggle into him further and wait.

When I was younger my mom said to me, you never truly know if you want to get married until the moment you’re asked the question. The first answer that comes to mind is the right answer. Make sure you say it so you never have any regrets.

I wonder vaguely if she was referring to written words too. Then I push it out of my mind and sniff, trying to keep the tears back.

I feel his chest deflate below my cheek. I feel his arm lift over my back, then I feel his breath hitch and his body shake a little.

My nerves are shot. Totally and completely.

If she says no I’ll be fucking disappointed but I won’t break up with her. Marriage is just a piece of paper right?

Who cares if she says no?

I do. For some reason I do.

I slowly open my eyes and feel my body start to shake. I raise my arm around her and look at what she’s written.

Suddenly everything is better.

Okay :-)

Fuck me… she said yes.

The End

In case you missed them, check out A. E. Murphy’s other works:

• A Little Bit of Crazy (Part 1/2)
  
• A Little Bit of Us (Part 2/2)
  
• A Little Bit of Trouble (Standalone)
  

I'm
23 and I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen in my hand! I love to write, it’s my passion, and I never stop.  In fact I love to write so much I have started over one hundred and fifty different books before finally completing my first ever novel 'A Little Bit of Crazy' which I published in May 2013. I was grateful when I received feedback as it helps me be a better writer.

When I'm not writing, I love spending time with my family and when I get some spare time (not easy with young children!) It’s either reading or listening to music. You won’t find me without a book or my Kindle in my hand. I read whilst I’m cooking, cleaning, talking, walking… you could say reading is my other passion!  

Although I based my first few books in America I am in fact a British author (I live in the north East of England). I chose to set my books in America as although I love England, I also love all things American and I have read a lot of American novels and as I love a challenge, I decided to write in an American voice! Studying the differences between Britain and America has been fascinating to say the least, even something as simple as remembering our chips are their fries and our crisps are their chips was a challenge! I’m pretty sure you’ll still find some Britishisms in my book and if you do, drop me a line (contact details below) to correct me!

Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I appreciate any kind of feedback be it good or bad. This has been a huge learning curve for me and I'm happy to receive any advice/criticism...praise?! That you wish to provide. Don’t be shy.

Thank you,

Love Alex

To get in touch with me please use the following.

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