Come Back To Me

Come Back to Me

C.D. Taylor

Copyright C.D. Taylor 2013

Published by C.D. Taylor at
Smashw

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.

A huge thank you goes out to the
friends and family who cheered me on, and told me to keep it up
when I wanted to throw in the towel.

To: Candie, Nicole, and Nancy, you guys
are the best!

Prologue

There comes a time when you think of
all the things that might make your life better. Those small things
that could make you happier than what you currently are. What was
wrong with me that I couldn’t just be content with what I had? Some
would say I had it all, but I still felt like something was vacant
from my life.

Needing to be free was a desire that I
couldn’t ignore. The feeling like there was something missing from
my existence, chewed at my brain constantly. What was I supposed to
do?

I finally felt it was time to escape,
to reinvent the person I had undoubtedly become.

Not that he could make me feel
complete, but he always knew what lied within the depths of my pale
blue eyes. I tried every day to push the thoughts of him aside, but
they always crept in. It was like a winter chill slowly making its
way through a cracked window. It consumed me, and broke me down
until I was stripped bare.

Convincing myself that it was just a
fantasy just wasn’t cutting it; I tried and failed time after time.
No matter what I always felt empty, like the sun never rose or set
without him in my life.

The dreams that woke me so frequently
weren’t nightmares as one would imagine, but instead they were
visions of him...erotic ones at that. In my dreams he knew what I
desired, how I needed him close. I could feel his touch like he was
there in person, and it would set me ablaze like I had reached out
and grasp the sun. It burned me so deeply that I would wake in a
sweat of epic proportions.

His warm breath on my neck telling me
of all the things he had planned for my body would send my heart
racing like it was in the Kentucky Derby. I wanted to feel it, feel
him with me, inside me.

Making my body ache for him was one of
his many talents. He was all male, all feral, and hot. Having him
in just my dreams wouldn’t satisfy what I needed.

To others the dreams might seem so
dirty and vile, like something I should be ashamed to admit. But if
that was the only way to have him, I would settle for
it.

I wanted his touch, his torturous
blazing skin against mine. I needed to feel what he wanted from me.
I would be more than willing to give all of myself, if only he
would do the same for me.

It wasn’t all about sexual attraction;
sure that was part of it. But I needed something deeper, something
emotional. Could he give that to me? Could he let me surrender to
him and in return gift me with his surrender?

I wanted all of these things, but could
I afford to give in to it? I just wasn’t sure.

What it all amounted to was that in my
mind we were made for each other. Like a key that fit perfectly
into a lock, or a ring that was sized for a snug and comfortable
fit. I used to think there was nothing that could keep us apart and
I would walk through the fires of hell to be with him.

In the end there was something that
could keep us apart, something I never anticipated. The biggest
thing of all that would stand in the way of two people finding each
other…Life

One

The room suddenly became brighter, like
someone was operating a dimmer switch, and controlled the lights. I
gently raised my head to see a gorgeous male figure standing at the
end of my bed. His frame seemed to dwarf the room we were in.
Shoulders that were broad, muscles so defined that he had to spend
the better part of the week in a gym. The heat in his eyes made my
body melt into a puddle of goo, and my panties nearly catch
flames.

So much about him sparked my
imagination, but his eyes saw right through me. They dug deep down
into me that I felt the burn from the top of my head to the tips of
my toes. He read me like an open book, my pages open and willing
for him to take a look. How did he know me so well?

My body and mind were
mesmerized by his presence, and he made no attempt to make a move
at that moment. The fact was
I
couldn’t move. His stare had me pinned and
paralyzed, frozen like a rose in the middle of a blizzard. He made
me feel like I was weighted down by an invisible force that I
couldn’t see or touch.

I scanned down his body,
taking in the sight of someone so perfect. His jaw was strained,
like he was hanging onto his control with just a thread of
sanity
. Glad to know he wasn’t the only
one.
His hair was mussed up, but in that
perfect just fucked sort of way. So damn sexy. The muscles of his
chest looked like they could have been airbrushed on by a talented
artist. I wanted to rake my nails down every last one of them until
he squirmed. He was shirtless, and it made my mouth water like I
was lost in the desert waiting for a mirage to come upon me. I
dipped my gaze lower and noticed the delicious vee that disappeared
into the waistband of his jeans. Could someone die from just
looking at a creature like him?

My eyes trailed just a bit
lower, and my breath caught.
Holy
fuck!

It was a comforting thought
that I affected him just as much as he did me. His erection was
straining against the fly of his jeans, threatening to break free.
He wanted me, and I
so
wanted him.

Before my gaze could trail lower, his
voice, barely a whisper resonated through me. “Don’t move” he
said.

I heard his demand, and
figured quickly that my body wouldn’t be able to move anyway at
that point. I watched him so achingly slow reach for the zipper of
his jeans and tug it down. The sound echoed through the room and
made my stomach jump with anticipation
.
What would he do to me? With me?
The many
erotic visions circled around in my head, and had my insides
reeling. I wanted this, wanted him. Now.

Once the zipper was down, he
shimmied from the pants and let them fall around his ankles. He
shrugged out of them, and stood gloriously nude, just for me. I
felt like it was my birthday, and this
God
was my gift.

I watched him take his hard length into
his massive hand and start to stroke it, the whole time never
taking his eyes from mine. The image was astounding, him giving
pleasure to himself, while thinking of me. I was going to combust
if I wasn’t touched soon.

I felt my sex dampen, and ached to have
him fill the need bubbling inside of me. I closed my eyes and
started to imagine which actions might feel the best from this
man.

His tongue on my waiting clit, swirling
and licking until I came on his mouth. His fingers inside, touching
and prodding the spot that would make me scream his name to the
heavens. The image of his impressive cock filling me, almost sent
me over the edge. I needed to be touched, but he was in no hurry to
do so. He kept slowly stroking his member, and I could see a bead
of moisture seeping from the swollen head.

I moved my hand down my body, and
placed my fingers over my clit. I made eye contact with him, and
saw the corners of his mouth lift in an approving smile. This is
what he wanted, me to touch myself while he did the
same.

I felt the tingling sensation of
arousal build in my belly, but knew it would take more to send me
flying. I moved my other hand lower and dipped two fingers into my
dripping orifice. I found the perfect rhythm, and began to pump my
fingers like a well-oiled piston.

The pleasure was building with a force
so strong; I thought it might knock me into the stratosphere. I
wanted to close my eyes, but his gaze was locked so tight onto
mine, it was like a magnet pulling me in.

I kept them open, and watched him
struggle to keep composure. If I was going to lose my mind then he
should go down with me in all fairness. I wanted to see that
happen.

I moved my fingers faster over my
sensitive bud, and felt my toes start to numb. My breathing turned
into panting, and I felt close to hyperventilation. His eyes boring
into me, made every sensation amplified.

I felt my insides begin to tighten, and
felt my orgasm coming on like a runaway freight train. The edge was
there, all I needed was to fall over it with total abandon. He
spoke again “Come for me”

That was all it took, I went soaring,
flying so high that I wondered if I would ever come down. I began
to scream from the intense pleasure. YES! YES! YES!

“Excuse me Miss” I felt someone shaking
me. “We are beginning our decent into JFK; I’m going to need your
seat in the upright position please.”

What the
fuck
?

Somewhere in between LAX and
JFK, I managed to have a very vivid erotic dream about
him.
By the condition of
the lace boy shorts I was wearing, I would call it very,
very
erotic indeed. What
the hell was wrong with me that I couldn’t even make a normal
flight without my panties getting wet with dreams of him? I
wondered if my brain was hardwired to his dick!

It was seriously getting old; I didn’t
go a single day without visions and daydreams about him. It wasn’t
like I’d been with him in an intimate way; we were just friends
back then.

I recalled studying with him at the
coffee house near the NYU campus, one of those places that welcomed
talentless poets to display their horrid work for the public. We
would sip our fancy lattes and talk about the future. Our futures
never included each other, we came from totally different pasts,
him with his Texas cowboy grit, and me from L.A., where movie stars
roamed the street and the paparazzi knew your every move. He would
listen to me about my nonexistent love and sex life, and I would
humor him by hearing his take on the flavor of the week in his bed.
If it had been anyone else, I would have told them to go fuck
themselves, but he listened to me, so I returned the favor with a
smile.

Somewhere along the line I became
emotionally attached to him, though I never told him. Seeing me as
a stalker would have made him pack up and ship out faster than an
overnight delivery parcel. I somehow let my heart do the thinking,
which was unusual because normally it would have taken a rather
large ice pick to chip the frigid blocks away from my icy depths. I
was stupid, and realized it rather quickly.

After graduating with
honors, we pretty much said our goodbyes. We resolved to stay in
contact via email, snail mail, and texts, but our lives became
busier than we anticipated. Losing touch with him almost ripped my
icy heart from my chest. I built the wall up once more that I let
slip down, and decided I didn’t need something like
feelings
to weigh me
down.

The facts were this, he never knew I
existed beyond the “friends’ zone”, he obviously was not attracted
to me in a physical capacity, and plain and simple, I just wasn’t
his type.

He would always be my “one that got
away”. My best friend that helped me through so much I could never
repay him. Jake Bradford.

Worrying about the past wasn’t going to
change my future and I knew that. I just had to get my shit
together, and I would, eventually.

I had a great job lined up and waiting
in New York, and I carefully crafted a new life plan. My plan
didn’t include letting someone rip down my emotional walls again,
because I’d rebuilt them so strong this time, and you would need an
expert safe cracker to get in.

I was physically and mentally exhausted
with being in the shadow of my parents all of the time. They were
very successful in the movie production business in Hollywood, and
built the Mills Production Company Empire. They had money running
out of their ears, and just about every other orifice you could
imagine. I finally decided to step out and forge a name for myself,
something that was mine, which I could be proud of.