J. Salsbury - Fighting to Forget

“Look at me.”

She blinks up at me, tears shining in her eyes.

“We both have things we’re not proud of, but that doesn’t touch what happens between us.”

“If I could take it back . . .”

“No take backs, baby. I love you. That’s where we stay.”

She inhales a shaky breath, and a ghost of a smile passes her lips. “I love you, too.”

Warmth flutters through my chest and turns to heat at the fire I see in her eyes. She wraps one hand around me in a firm grip and leans in. Softly, she brushes her lips first before swirling her tongue around my piercing. My stomach tumbles, and my pulse rockets through my veins. I fist my hands in her silky red hair, holding her to me. She parts her lips, and my dick disappears inch by inch into her mouth until she can’t take anymore.

“Fucking beautiful. You look so gorgeous takin’ me in.”

A moan of approval vibrates her throat and sends my hips thrusting forward. She braces her hands on my thighs, keeping me still while she sucks me deep.

Less than a year ago these were the things that would drive me to be sick, but with her it’s different. We’re not taking or using but rather sharing in the pleasure together.

Her dark eyelashes lie in contrast to her fair skin. Full dark lips shine with moisture. The visual becomes too much. Afraid if I don’t stop her this will be over way before either of us is ready, I pull away.

Her eyes dart to mine. “Are you okay? Did I—”

“I’m fine.” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but intoxicated with lust it’s hard to pull off. I take a step back. “Stand up.”

She jumps to her feet, and I grin at her eager need to please. Such a good girl.

I grab the hem of her shirt and wait for her to nod the go-ahead. Once I get it, I drag the fabric slowly over her skin, allowing her to feel every fiber. Little by little her skin, smooth against my knuckles, is revealed. Perfect. I tug the shirt off over her head, and her hair falls to hit the tops of her shoulders. She’s still so thin, and there’s a slight indentation at her ribs that wasn’t there before. I vow in this moment to feed her any and everything she wants for the rest of her life.

My gaze crawls up her torso from belly button to chest and lingers at her white lace bra. She’s breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, teasing me with the visual of their pink tips through the fabric. My palms tingle to get at them.

“Turn around.”

She does, and I step in close behind her so my hard-on presses against her. I smile, enjoying the moan of pleasure that falls from her lips. Reaching for her bra, I slide down one strap at a time, kissing the path that it takes down her arms. The delicate coconut scent of her skin shoots through my senses and stokes my need. Releasing the hook of her bra, I drop it to the floor at her feet. I skate my hands up her belly to cup her breasts, rolling the tips between my fingers. She arches her back, pressing into my hold.

“I want to look at you.” Using my lip ring the way she likes it, I run the metal against her shoulder and nip at her skin.

She turns around and holds my stare. Her gray eyes are darker than usual, and I’m inflamed with the need to lose myself in them when I bury myself inside her.

I drop to my knees and slide off her shoes and socks. Moving to her waist, I untie the drawstring of her pants and pull them down her legs, taking her panties with them until she’s gloriously naked before me.

I make quick work of my sweatshirt and pants, and our gazes lock. She stares at me with appreciation and an acceptance that has me wanting to fall down at her feet and beg her to never leave. And just like when we were kids, I’m vulnerable, needy, willing to do anything for her love.

A glint of disgust flickers in my gut, telling me that I need to be in control, warning me against falling victim to my need for love.

I take a deep breath. She’s not them. From the beginning, she’s loved me regardless of my past. I don’t have to earn it from her. I own her heart.

With a growl of victory, I close the space between us and hook her around the neck, crashing her lips to mine. She falls into me but fights against my dominance. Every thrust of my tongue she meets with a push of her own. Her hands rip through my hair, pulling me closer, pushing me back. Her leg hooks around my hip, and the heat of her exposed body rubs against mine. The simple act pistons my hips forward, knocking her back onto the bed where I tumble on top of her.

She opens her legs wide and lifts her hips. “Please. I need you.”

Sucking the tender skin of her neck between my lips, I slam my eyes shut and hold back from burying myself inside her wet heat.

With loosely held control, I drag myself away to pull a condom from my bedside table. Faster than my aroused mind can follow, I rip, roll, and drop back between her legs.

She digs a heel into the bed, and I allow her to push me to my back. Straddling my hips, she guides me into her body so damn slowly I grind my teeth to avoid slamming into her.

Her head drops back. “Yes, that’s it.”

I grab her hips firmly and growl. “I’m it.”

“You’ve always been it.” She lifts and drops with long intentional strokes that drive me to the brink of blissful insanity.

“Gia, baby, don’t stop.”

Her eyes find mine through the fog of arousal. “Say it again.” Another slide in . . . out. “My name.”

“Gia.” I cup her breasts and seize her nipples between my fingers. “My Gia.”

“Yes. Always.” She rolls her hips in waves as the frenzy takes over.

I drive my hips up, meeting her push for pull, and tilting my pelvis to add more friction. She drops forward, the full length of her torso pressing against mine. Her hair falls around my face. Skin to skin, breath on breath, climbing, pounding, reaching.

“Harder, baby.”

Her pace quickens, and she snags my lip between her teeth.

“Fuck, yeah.” I throw my weight behind my hips, driving into her.

My muscles go tight, eyes fixed on her red hair and gray eyes. The feelings of comfort drown me in my love for her. She’s harbored her loyalty and affection for me, dedicated her thoughts to delivering revenge for me.

I spent my childhood bartering my body for the love of another when this whole time she’s had unconditional love for me. She held it, guarded it, and offered it when she finally could. And for that I owe her everything I have to give.

“Gia, baby”—I release her hips, feeling her soft skin as I move up the curves of her body—“give me all of you.” I pull her in for a long, deep kiss. My head lifts off the bed, pushing toward her while tugging her closer. Our hips surge together in a frantic chase.

Her neck arches back and she rips her lips from mine. My name falls from her lips seconds before the orgasm slides through her body. I pull my lip between my teeth. My head is light with euphoria as my body and soul climax together.

A torrent of memories hit me at once: the first time I felt her skin and the tender brush of her lips, her easy smile that would make my chest ache, and her body, lying broken and alone.

I almost lost her.

I could’ve lost this.

I roll on top of her, and she welcomes my weight with a sigh. Seconds after my orgasm, I’m not only still hard but hungry for more.

And only then do I notice I’m not sick, not even a little. My gut that’s usually cramping is warm and tingles with satisfaction.

At peace.

Cured.

I bury my face into her neck and fight back the urge to thank her, worship her, and devote the rest of my life and everything I have to making her happy.

Gia

I didn’t know until now, wasn’t sure who I was or who I’d end up being in a year’s time. But now I know.

I’m Gia.

Rex’s Gia, new and improved.

My body and mind are soothed by our lovemaking; a slow grin spreads across my face. His weight is heavy between my legs, crushing against my chest, and I’m lighter than I’ve ever felt. What we did had nothing to do with the past, but paved the way to our future.

I only hope he feels the same. “Everything okay?”

He kisses my throat, my jaw, and then my lips. “Perfect.” Pushing up, he moves to separate our bodies.

My legs lock around his hips. “Not yet.”

His pierced eyebrow lifts and he smirks. That, combined with his mussed-up hair and piercing blue eyes, stirs a delicious ache in my belly. “Don’t you worry, baby. I’m far from through with you.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to avoid an all-out grin. Never thought I’d hear those words from his mouth, and even more fascinating is that I believe him.

“Let me ditch this condom and order some takeout.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “You haven’t eaten anything since we left Denver. You need to get something down every two hours if you can.”

He kisses down my throat to my chest, severing our connection as he trails his lips all the way to my belly button. A few passes of his mouth and he breathes in deep against my skin before pushing up off the bed.

I watch in awe as his powerful frame, covered in vibrant tattoos, moves across the space to the bathroom. It’s not lost on me how far he’s come since I left, and I wonder how he got here. Is it possible that his past coming back to him may have helped in his recovery?