Need (30 page)

His face came into view, and I smiled as he lowered the phone from his ear and knelt down beside me. He pulled me into his arms, rocking me. The feel of his solid arms around me was the last thing I needed to relax completely. He was here, and all was right.

After a few minutes, he began to shift us. I held on tight, not wanting to let go. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m just moving us to the chair.” I nodded, burying my face on his shoulder as he picked us both up enough to sit onto his chair. His hands stroked my arms, and his fingers played with my hair just the way I liked it. “Tell me what happened.”

“I was going to make you a nice dinner. You’ve been so good to me and I can’t . . . I can’t give you what you want.”

“All in good time,” he said, kissing my forehead. “That couldn’t have been what sent you into a panic, though. We’ve talked about this. It will happen. We just have to keep working at it.”

“I know,” I said, taking advantage of how safe I felt here in his arms, in his chair. “It was . . . I started thinking how I used to bake with my mom and then . . . then how it was cooking for . . . John.” His arms tightened around me. “I don’t know why he’s looking for me. What’s going to happen when he finds me?”

His mouth rested against my temple, and I could feel his breath as he spoke. “I don’t know why he’s looking for you either, Brianna. I don’t think we’re going to know until the time comes. As to what’s going to happen . . . I don’t know that either. We’re going to have to deal with it the best we can when it occurs.” He paused. “I found out today that your father is in town.” A whimper escaped my lips, and my hands balled into fists, clutching the suit jacket he was still wearing. He lovingly caressed my face as he pressed me against his chest. “If you see him, even at a distance, you are to call me right away.”

I nodded and continued to hold tight to him. He was my lifeline, and I was pretty sure he always would be. There was no place I felt safer than when he held me in his arms like this. Sometimes I just wanted to stay here, in his chair, and never leave. The outside world could melt away, and I wouldn’t care.

“You said you’d been about to make dinner. What was on the menu?” he asked, and I knew he was trying to distract me from my thoughts.

“Chicken parmesan. I was going to try and remember the recipe my mom used to make.”

“Are you feeling up to making it?”

I was torn. The original thought behind making it was a thank you to him for everything. It was a small thing, but even the small things I did for him seemed to make him happy. Another part of me wanted to stay in his chair all night. Cooking would mean leaving the perfect place we were in.

Guilt, however, won out. “Yes.” I’m sure my voice didn’t sound very confident.

“Come on, then,” he said, patting my leg. “I’ll help you. You can put me to work.”

We spent the next hour and a half in the kitchen working on dinner. The area felt smaller with him working beside me, but in a good way. He always took every opportunity to touch me, in little ways, when we worked together like this. I liked it.

He was working on prepping vegetables for the salad while I began breading the chicken. Every time I glanced up, he was looking at me. I had no idea how he wasn’t cutting himself with the knife since he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what he was doing. I noticed a smile pulling at his lips. 

He picked up a disfigured carrot, examining it as if it would tell him some secret he didn’t know. Placing the carrot on the counter, he came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. “What do you think?” he asked, nodding toward the strangely shaped vegetable.

It had one top, but two legs and they were twisted around each other. “I didn’t know they could grow that way. I wonder why it has two instead of one?”

He moved my hair out of the way and kissed my neck. “It reminds me of you when you’re sleeping, how your legs get tangled up in the sheets.”

“It does?” I asked, looking at the odd carrot again. It did kind of look like two legs intertwined.

“Yes. You have very nice legs, Brianna.”

The room suddenly felt really warm, and it had nothing to do with the heat coming from the stove. He’d helped me cook a few times in the past, and it wasn’t unusual for him to kiss or hold me now and then in between. In fact, it was normal. He always seemed to go out of his way to look for excuses to touch me. This was the first time, however, that he’d taken it to a sexual place. I was anxious, but not in a bad way.

His hand slid from my waist down the front of my jeans to the apex of my thighs. “Mm. Warm,” he whispered, running his hands along the inseam of my jeans.

I sank back into his chest, enjoying the feel of him behind me, around me. My earlier afternoon stress faded away as I tried to concentrate on not making a mess with my egg-covered hands. The only thing I could think about was how good he felt, and how good he made me feel.

“How are you feeling?”

“Warm,” I answered honestly.

He chuckled. “Are you prepared for tonight?” His fingers followed my hipbone and then up to the top of my jeans until they were tickling my skin beneath. 

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Good. So am I.” He stepped back then, letting go of me. 

I felt the loss immediately and from the look on his face, he’d had to force himself to stop. It made me smile. I still didn’t know what he saw in me and why he was willing to deal with all my issues, but I was grateful. I loved being with him.

Brianna

Dinner was just as I’d hoped. He complimented me on the delicious meal even though he’d help make it. I smiled, and blushed, under his praise. It felt good to do these small things for him.

    After dinner, he told me to get my night things and meet him in his room instead of his chair. I was a little disappointed about missing time in his chair, but I was hoping that meant that we’d be doing more physical exploration tonight. It was early, though; only about seven.

When I entered his bedroom with my pajamas clasped against my chest, he stood fully clothed near his bed. He’d removed his jacket, tie, and shoes, but other than that, he was still dressed. I guessed we wouldn’t be taking our shower yet.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand. I walked over to stand in front of him. He took the clothes out of my hands and placed them behind him on the nightstand. “Lie down on the bed.”

I felt the beginning of my nerves start to build. This was new. His bed had always been off limits. My knees sunk into the mattress as I crawled onto the bed and lay down as instructed. 

He followed, hovering over me for a second before lying beside me. “You okay?” 

I nodded. Nervous, but I always was if we were trying something new. 

“We’re only going to go as far as you’re comfortable with tonight, Brianna. I know the last time we were in a bed things didn’t end well, but we’ve come a long way since then. For tonight, think of this as my chair. You are to speak freely. Tell me if something is bothering you, or doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay.”

He smiled, reaching up to run his hand down my hair. “I was thinking about you today in my meeting.”

“You were?” I couldn’t imagine why he’d be thinking of me during one of his meetings.

“Yes. We get appeals sometimes direct from families. We usually try to connect them to the hospital that can best help them. There was one today for a little girl. She looked a lot like you with her dark brown hair and blue eyes. I wondered what you looked like when you were little.” He rested his head on his hand and used his free one to continue to play with my hair. 

I leaned into him, starting to relax. “I was normal, I think. I liked to play with dolls and help my mom bake cookies. For my eighth birthday, I begged Mom for a pony,” I said, remembering.

“Something we have in common.” His fingers brushed against my collarbone. They were distracting.

“You wanted a pony, too?” I asked, trying to concentrate on what he was saying.

“A horse, yes. I was thirteen, and a friend of mine at the time had started riding. I thought it was very cool.” He shrugged. “After a lot of bargaining on my part, my parents bought me one for my fourteenth birthday. Xavier was the center of my world until my parents died.” He looked down at me, his eyes serious. “He was the reason I wasn’t with them when they died. I’d insisted on staying home to take care of him.” His eyes got a far off look to them as he spoke. “If I’d gone with them like they’d wanted me to, I wouldn’t be here.”

I had a sudden need to be close to him, to comfort him as he had me so many times. My arms circled his neck as I hugged him. He held on tight.

His lips brushed against my ear, placing soft kisses along my hairline. “How is it I can tell you these things when I can’t seem to talk about it with anyone else?” he mused. It came across more of an observation rather than something he was seeking the answer to, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I continued to hold him, enjoying the closeness.

Lying here in his bed together did feel different. Although we weren’t doing anything more than we usually did in his chair, lying next to him in his bed felt more intimate. Our bodies were completely entwined. His head rested on my shoulder. My arms were wrapped around his neck while his were securely around my torso. Even our legs had somehow managed to overlap.

“What happened? To the horse?”

He stiffened before letting out a long breath against my skin. “Richard and Diane sold him eventually. After . . . I just couldn’t look at him anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, confused.

There was a long pause. I wasn’t sure he was going to answer me. Then he brought his head up and looked me in the eye. “The last time I spoke to my parents I argued with them. They wanted me to go. I wanted to stay. Xavier was the reason. Every time I looked at him, I remembered.” He trailed his hand down my cheek, my neck, until he was toying with the edge of my shirt just above my breasts. “I know I couldn’t have saved them, even if I’d been there. I just wish the last thing I’d said to my parents was that I loved them, instead of how much I loved Xavier and that I didn’t want to leave him for the week.”

I traced the lines of his face with my hands. He looked much older than he normally did. I felt like I needed to say something, to give him something like he always gave me. “Thank you . . . for telling me.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, my love, you are one of a kind. I don’t know what I did without you.” 

That warm feeling I always got around him spread and exploded in my chest. I smiled up at him.

Suddenly, I wasn’t smiling anymore as his mouth was on mine. It was slow and soft. Instead of slipping inside my mouth, his tongue licked my lips, tracing them with its tip. I moaned at the warm and wet feel, and pressed myself closer to him. He couldn’t hide his excitement when we were this close, and it felt hard against my stomach as we kissed. It didn’t frighten me anymore, not like this.

Instead, I held tighter to him, increasing the pressure, knowing he’d like that. Suffice it to say, he did like it.
A lot.
He gripped my waist, trying to pull me closer as his other hand twisted in my hair. I felt surrounded in a very good way.

We kissed until we were panting, but he didn’t let me go, or stop. His lips just moved down to my neck and began sucking on the skin there just below the silver collar I wore. I felt the flesh beneath his mouth grow even warmer, but the feelings didn’t end there. There was heat between my legs, too, and that feeling I got when he touched me was starting in my belly. I held tight to his shoulders and leaned my head back, exposing my neck more to his lips, tongue, teeth. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine kissing could ever feel like this.

His hand snaked up my T-shirt until he found my bra-covered breasts. He palmed the soft weight in his hand, squeezing them gently before moving the fabric out of the way. My bare breasts seemed to be much more to his liking as he hummed and moaned against my neck and kneaded and pulled. It felt so good.

I was in somewhat of a daze when he raised his head and quickly removed both my shirt and bra. It happened so fast I might have missed it if not for the feel of the cool air hitting my skin seconds before the warmth of his body pressed against me again.

His tongue dipped into my mouth. It wasn’t quite as gentle this time. There was an edge to it hadn’t been there earlier. I knew he was aroused; his penis was pressing against me, hard and needy. His tongue moved against mine in a way that mimicked sex.

I tried not to think about the actual sex act. He’d said we wouldn’t be going any farther tonight than what I was comfortable with, but I knew if I asked him for sex right now he wouldn’t say no—not unless I froze or panicked, or something.

When he pulled hard on my nipple, I gasped and dug my fingers into his shoulders. My body responded in ways I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how his pinching me—and that’s what he was doing—could be pleasurable, but it was. I felt that tingly warmth between my legs. That first time I felt it, it had scared me a little. I didn’t know what was going on. Now I knew, and I embraced it, letting the feelings take hold inside me.