Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 (6 page)

“Matt,” I whisper when he takes my nipple into the warmth of his mouth. As he sucks and teases, I push my fingers into his thick hair and pull him closer. No man has ever touched me the way he does, with reverence like I’m precious, even still, after all these years.

But knowing this may be our only night together, I focus back on him, determined to make sure this is a night he’ll never forget. I settle between his legs, licking my way up his thighs and along his cock as he moans. He tenderly runs his fingers through my hair as I roll my tongue over him, moaning around his hardness. Inspired, I suck him deeper and he shudders, his fingers digging into my shoulders while I test his restraint.  As I pleasure him I recall how easy it was to make him happy, not just in bed, but in life. He was my bright light and I was his. Tonight the rightness of us holding each other once more, makes us shine.

He stops me before he loses control completely, and I pout as he pulls me into his arms. “But I wanted...” I start.

“Hush,” he says. “I’m coming inside you.” He then takes his time kissing me hard and soft, kissing me senseless, while sliding his fingers between my legs and teasing my breasts as I beg for more.

He rises up on his knees, gazing at me, burning hot as he parts my legs wide and rolls on a condom. “I’ve dreamt of this,” he whispers against my cheek.

“Oh God, me too,” I whisper back, arching my back and hips to say “Yes, yes.” He pushes into me slowly, the delicious tension pulling me right to my edge. Once he’s fully inside of me I groan, reveling in how perfect he feels, yet aching for how much I’ve missed this. How he is the only one that ever made me feel this full, this completely loved.

This is our beginning, and I whisper, “I love you, I love you,” against his skin, each time I say the words he thrusts harder and I arc with pleasure. I savor the delicious pressing down of his weight on me, his lips on me, then the feeling of his love lifting me up as I tremble for him. Matt remembers my body and where I’m heading so he cups my face in his hands then gazes at me, eye-to-eye, soul to soul. “I love you,” he whispers, before his head rolls back in climax.

With his final thrusts I’m undone, so shattered in his arms that he holds me tightly against him so none of my pieces can fall away. As I gasp for breath and slowly calm, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

*  *  *

T
he sun is shining on my face as I squint, and for a moment I try to sort out where I am. Matt is naked and asleep next to me, his arm draped just under my breasts. The bed cover is half on the floor, and the sheets pulled from their tucked-in places, like white sails collapsed after a storm. It looks like a battle was fought on this bed but according to the contented look on Matt’s sleeping face, we must’ve won the war.

A few minutes later his eyes blink open and his gaze moves across the bed, taking in all of the linen mayhem and my startled look.

“Morning,” he whispers.

“Oh my God, what did we do all night?” I ask with wide eyes.

He looks at me intently, like he’s trying to figure out my state-of-mind. “Um, everything?”

My stomach flip-flops hoping last night was as amazing for him as it was for me.
What if...?

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he stretches his free arm over his head.

“I feel incredible. Last night was amazing. You don’t regret it, do you?” I ask tentatively, just to make sure we’re okay.

He shakes his head. “I could never regret last night.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Absolutely sure. You’re here with me, Angie. I couldn’t have dreamed...”

“I know,” I whisper. “Me neither.”

He clears his throat and pushes his untamed hair off his forehead. “I’ll tell you what I regret? That I ordered us room service when I got up a bit ago, when all I want right now is to stay right here and keep holding you in my arms.”

I curl in closer to him, resting my hand on his ribcage, and skimming my fingertips through the hair on his chest. “Me too.

“I also moved my flight. Was it presumptuous to assume I could stay at your place tonight?”

My heart flutters at the idea of him staying with me. “You’ll be most welcome. I just wish you didn’t have to leave again so soon. We live so far apart.”

He pulls me tighter to his chest. “You never know though. It’s just a short flight and besides, jobs change, people move...”

I shake my head. “It all feels insurmountable...long distance relationships are always doomed.” I sigh. “The idea of our time together ending is making me blue. Now that we’ve found each other again I don’t want to say goodbye not knowing when I’ll see you again. If only...”

He kisses the top of my head. “Remember how we used to daydream in bed imagining all the
if only’s
?”

I smile. “Yes...let’s pretend! Can we play it again? That would cheer me up.”

“Hmmm. I know ... let’s pretend that you adjusted your teaching schedule and I my work schedule so we could have three-day weekends together. I’d fly here every other week on Thursday evening, and alternate weekends I’d fly you to San Francisco.”

My heart soars realizing that this isn’t completely out of the realm of possibilities. “And which ever city we were in, we would have adventures, trying new restaurants and seeing shows.”

He nods. “Yes, long walks through Golden Gate Park. And occasional side trips to Napa.”

I grin. “And when in L.A., long walks on the beach. Do you like Santa Barbara? We could do that when you’re out my way.”

“I love Santa Barbara. We could get a suite at El Encanto up on the hill. It has the best views...”

“And can we always have breakfast in bed.”

He laughs softly. “Sure.”

I trace circles on his upper chest, right over his heart. “You know this upcoming school year I’m on sabbatical. And I can write anywhere. I’m good like that.”

A wide smile works its way across his face. “Even San Francisco?”

“Especially San Francisco if you’re there.”

He cups my cheek and tilts my face up so our gazes meet. “You’d do that for me?”

“Matt, if I’ve learned anything in the years that have passed, it’s that what’s between us is rare and precious and absolutely worth fighting for. This time, I’m putting us first.”

He gives me a kiss that makes my toes curl and when we part he whispers, “God, I love you.”

We lie together several minutes, quiet in our thoughts but I imagine that I can hear the wheels in his head turning. “You know Henry’s getting really independent and he’s going to be off to college in a couple of years. At that point I’d be willing to leave San Francisco.”

“Really? And move back to L.A.?”

“I would for you.”

I feel like my whole body is vibrating with excitement that can’t be contained. “Matt, this doesn’t feel like pretend anymore. It feels real, like this is the life we can create together.”

“And we will. You know how determined I can be. And a year from now let’s track down Alec, wherever he’s playing and go see him live.”

I clap my hands together and imagine how different Alec’s concert will be for me without all of the uncertainty and awkwardness I struggled with last night. “Let’s go backstage again and let him see that we made it, that you forgave me and now our
one love
is true.”

“Yes, and you know how last night you said that you write stories about redemption. Maybe you’ll write about us one day. If you do, make me rugged and handsome, okay?” He gives me a wide grin.

I wink at him. “You’re
my
kind of handsome, and if I write it our story will have to be non-fiction because there’s nothing pretend about us.”

He nods, his expression relaxed and content. “You’re right ... this love is as real as it gets.”

Since the night of our breakup all those years ago, I’ve lived in the shadow of guilt and regret and never let go of the idea that I was a bad person. As much as I focused on making the right choices, and treating people well, I couldn’t shake my regret for what I did to Matt.

But now as I look over at him, and he winds his fingers through mine, I feel complete joy and love for this man who has graced me with forgiveness. He’s willing to trust me with his love and I will honor that trust every day of our lives.

Sometimes good people get second chances, and this is mine.

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Also By Ruth Clampett

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Work of Art ~ The Collection

WET

Animate Me

Mr. 365

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About Ruth Clampett

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R
uth Clampett, daughter of legendary animation director, Bob Clampett, has spent a lifetime surrounded by art and animation. A graduate of Art Center College of Design, her careers have included graphic design, photography, VP of Design for WB Stores and teaching photography at UCLA. She now runs her own studio as the fine art publisher for Warner Bros. where she's had the opportunity to know and work with many of the greatest artists in the world of animation and comics.

Wet is Ruth's sixth book, following Animate Me, Mr. 365 and the Work of Art Trilogy. She lives in Los Angeles and is heavily supervised by her teenage daughter, lovingly referred to as Snarky, who loves traveling with her mom with a sketchbook in hand.

Connect with Ruth Clampett

RuthClampettWrites.com

https://twitter.com/RuthyWrites

https://www.facebook.com/RuthClampettWrites

https://www.facebook.com/RuthClampett

http://instagram.com/Ruth_Clampett

H
is voice brushed over me like a blanket of silk, slipping over my skin, the cool softness leaving chills in its wake. I might not have noticed him in this crowded bar, but his actions made it so he was the only one I saw.

I don’t know where he was sitting before, but he seemed to materialize right out of the crush of nearby people. He stepped around my friends and their dates, bypassing the looks of genuine interest cast his way.

My gaze wanted to stay with him, to study him, but I forced it away, not willing to allow myself to get tangled up in the net he was casting.

My feigned disinterest did not deter him.

His jean-clad thighs came up against the faux wood table right beside the glass that held my drink. He towered over me. I could feel his gaze, steady and calm yet penetrating and hot. I didn’t look up. His looming presence made it hard to swallow.

I wondered how long he would stand there, waiting for me to give in, waiting for me to accept my lower position.

Not long.

But he didn’t walk away.

He crouched down. He completely lowered his body so we were practically on the same level, with me only slightly higher than him.

Even before my brain could react, my body shifted toward him, turning in my seat until the side of my knee bumped against his. He wrapped his hand, large and slightly calloused, around my calf. The gesture was so intimate I should have been offended. This was a man I did not know. This was a man who was a complete and utter stranger.

Yet his intimacy was not off-putting. It was almost like slipping into a pair of really ratty, worn sweats after an extremely long day. There was comfort in his presence; there was a hint of familiarity I didn’t try to analyze.

There was also attraction.

Instant, undeniable attraction.

It wasn’t a sweeping heat. It didn’t take over my body in a single flame. It was a slow burn, beginning as a tingle in the balls of my feet and whispering up my legs, causing my entire body to hum.

It was the kind of desire you anticipated, the kind that slowly spread and you urged it on, wanting it to fill your entire body until everything inside you trembled with yearning.

My stomach fluttered as if someone caged a million little fireflies that desperately wanted free.

“What are you doing sitting over here alone?” he asked, his voice low and deep.

All the little hairs on my head prickled.

“I’m not alone,” I replied, wanting to gesture toward the crowd of people who sat at the table, but my hands didn’t move.

“Not anymore,” he said, his thumb stroking over my leg.

Just then, a new song began to play. It was louder and more annoying than the one that played before it. The crowd of people cheered, and he gave me a half smile.

“Wanna go somewhere and talk?” he said, leaning closer to be heard over the noise.

I nodded.

He removed his hand from my leg and reached around the back of my chair to pull my leather jacket and bag off the top. He slid the items into my lap and stood, stepping back just enough so I could stand.

“Hey,” Kat said from beside me, reaching out and grabbing my arm.

I twisted around and leaned toward her. “I’ll call ya tomorrow.”

Kat’s mouth dropped open, but she recovered quickly and gave me a sly smile. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked.

I nodded. I knew exactly what I was doing.

After I stood, his hand settled over the small of my back, once again inciting that tingly feeling across my body. It was a simple touch, a touch that many gentleman used on their dates.

But this felt different.

It felt like he was staking his claim. It felt like, in that single, harmless touch, he was owning me.

Even though the place was packed with people, he guided me to the door like there was no one in our way. Outside, the air was brisk and cold. The wind pulled at the dark strands of my hair, tangling them together against my shoulders. It was sort of like someone threw ice-cold water in my face.

From my position on the sidewalk, I looked over my shoulder through the dim street lighting at the man who stood behind me.

He stepped around me, standing so close his heat and frame blocked some of the bitter wind. Gently, he pulled the jacket out of my grip and shook it out, swinging it up and around my shoulders, tucking it close to my body.

“Did you change your mind?” he murmured, holding the front of the jacket closed just below my chin.