Thursday, July 25, 2013

Chapter Forty-Six (Love Won't Let Me Wait)

Previously, on "Memoirs Of A City Girl":
Ch. 45 (I'll Stand By You)
-Brad called to let me know that Luke's dad was dead.
-To my surprise, he asked me to check on Luke.
-I wasn't even sure if he'd want to speak to me, but
Brad said, "He will...once he sees you."
-Once Brad offered to take care of Nikki while I was
gone, I decided to visit Luke.
-As I passed the Bridgeport bridge, I became
flooded by memories of that day when I almost jumped.
-It made me wonder if it was guilt or Luke that saved my
life and brought me back to the city I grew up in.
-When I arrived at Luke's door, he took me in his arms
and carried me inside.
-We embraced silently for a while until he was once again
reminded of his father's death.
-They found his body in his car, parked in the firestation
with a gunshot wound to the chest and mouth, suspecting suicide.
-Luke's grief turned into fury, refusing to believe that
his father could take his own life.
-Quietly, I wiped the tears off his face and helped him blow
his nose.
-He whispered, "I need you...I need you so bad."

*Graphic sexual content, strong language, nudity*

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Location: 1557 Memorial Parkway
Date: Tuesday, 11/8/2011
Time: 8:40 p.m.

Despite the urgent need to escape this whirlpool of hot, electric energy slowly dissolving everything else in sight, including my own ability to reason, I find myself clinging to Luke. Clinging to his strong, warm body; clinging to the thin thread of common sense that's keeping me from being swallowed alive---clinging to the only person in my life I've ever truly been able to count on. This thing that we have---this so called friendship---may be the only thing that has kept us from letting go. And just sink. Sink into deep longings from a lost time; sink into an ocean where we can be free to express everything that we've held back. 

Slowly, slowly, I feel the thread being pulled from the unshakeable weight of our reunion, unveiling everything we have suppressed all these years, yielding to the cries of our hearts and bodies. I need you...I need you so bad. I hear his voice echo in my mind over and over again. 

Without words, I pull back slightly to take in his face---the weary, ruggedly handsome face trying to stay strong but unable to fight grief on his own any longer. His eyes---flickering like emerald flames dancing inside a dim crystal vase---have never looked so fragile and vulnerable until now. My heart throbbing with dull ache, I reach out to caress his face. Upon contact with my hand, he trembles, silently waiting---thirsting for more. 

My fingertips follow the ridge of his right cheekbone, moving down to the steep angle of his jaw, lightly squeezing his chin before they painstakingly crawl up his soft lower lip. His mouth parts slightly, trying to catch up with his warm, quickening breath. Watching his thick, black lashes close in on his eyes, I trace every plump crinkle on his upper lip, retracing his lower lip, until I feel them close in on the tip of my index and middle finger. Eyes still closed, he gently sucks on them---my breath escaping in quick gasps.

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"The time is right
You hold me tight
And love's got me high
Please tell me yes
And don't say no
Honey, not tonight"

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His eyes open in a flash. They lock in on mine, slowly pulling me into a deep, green, bottomless abyss; until there is no other option but to surrender. Like this tiny speck of dust called Earth trying to resist the warmth and gravitational pull of the collosal sun---rational thought becomes futile. The time has come, the universe seems to whisper to me, and I find myself hungering for Luke's lips the way my lungs hunger for oxygen. 

"I need you too," I mutter quietly, grabbing his face until our mouths crash into each other, two stranded supernovas meeting their inevitable collide. Our lips connect like two broken, electrically charged wires; an explosion of hot sparks on contact, sending a shockwave of vibration through all the nerves of my extremities, from head to toe. Unable to form a single coherent word, we simply look at each other in dazzled awe.

"I've waited so long for you," he whispers, "so long..."

"Luke..."

"Let's not fight it anymore, Lyn."

I nod quietly.

"Let me…" He looks at me with such consuming ache that it practically melts away my insides, rendering me helpless. His voice---soaked in such need, drenched with such longing---that all I want to do is make his pain go away, in every possible way I can. "Let me love you."

"Love me," I whimper, biting my lower lip. By the time mutual recognition sinks in, my body takes matters into its own hands and impatiently pushes him on the bed, until I find myself straddling him. Our eyes briefly meet before I lean down to kiss him again, my body pressing and trembling against his. "Please l-love me."

He lets out a deep, primal groan as he grabs my ass and squeezes it tight, almost possessively; his bulging crotch grinding against mine as our tongues slide against each other---searing, moist and lost in desperate breaths. Oh my God. My mind manages to make itself heard amidst the savage beating of my heart, but I can’t possibly stop now. Now that adrenaline has ramped up from zero to a million; now that I’ve stepped into the bubbling waters of intoxicating desire; now that I’ve gotten another taste of Luke’s lips---and I want more.

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I sit up straight, still straddling him, and I pull my cotton lavender top over my head. I watch it land quietly on top of the bed, right next to his hips. When my eyes return to his, their wild intensity catches me completely off guard, and for a moment, I become very self-conscious---my breasts nearly spilling out of my pink lace bra. Even though Brad has seen them countless times, there is something about Luke’s gaze that makes me feel so transparent---as if he’s seeing through me---the fragile, guarded contents of my soul.

“Let me see you, Lyn,” he gently coaxes, as if he’s reading my apprehension---and my mind. “It’s okay. Show me the rest of your beautiful body.”

My breath lodged in my throat, I force myself to meet his unrelenting gaze as I timidly unhook my bra, watching it slide down my arms. A cool draft of air brushes my nipples as it washes over the rest of my bare breasts, displayed unabashedly in front of him---rising up and down.

“Oh my God,” he lets out a nearly inaudible gasp as his eyes widen, “I…I can’t even…”

His mere inability to form words does wonders for my confidence, and I find myself giggling when I ask like an awkward, inexperienced schoolgirl, “Do you like them?”

He shakes his head and sarcastically asks, “Do I wear a uniform?”

I snicker. “I guess that’s a yes?”

“God yes,” his eyes devour my breasts again before a sheepish smile forms on his face. “Do me a favor. Touch them for me.”

The mere sound of his voice---deep, velvety with just the right touch of authority---lights a fire deep inside, and without even thinking, my hands slide over my breasts as I continue to probe his eyes. A new rush of raw desire washes over me, taking over my inhibitions, slowly unearthing this neglected vixen that I completely forgot about. Now she’s here, as if she’s been waiting for Luke all along, and she’s tantalizing him; slowly grinding on his crotch, squeezing her breasts together, running her fingertips over her nipples until they pucker into little rose buds.

Shuddering, he can barely keep his eyes open as his hands grip my hips, on the brink of losing control. As he places me on my back---the weight of his warm, hard body pressing mercilessly against mine---he whispers, “I want to taste every inch of you."

"Every inch?" I ask breathlessly.

"Every,” he assures with pure impatience as he unzips my jeans and extricates them from my legs, leaving me with nothing but my matching lace panties. “Damn,” he rids himself of his sweatpants, revealing sexy-ass black boxer briefs. This nearly makes me faint, now that I’m seeing the rest of his chiseled firefighter body for the first time, highlighting his glorious abs, muscular thighs and firm calves. “Inch,” he slides on top of me again; the warmth of our bare skins exchanging heat. He grabs a breast and squeezes it hard before his mouth hungrily finds mine again. 

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The soft, warm blanket of his mouth enveloping my nipples sends shooting sparks of electricity down my crotch, causing me to arch my back and moan deeply; unleashing a trickle of heat and moisture within my walls. As my upper body lifts away from the bed in ecstasy, his mouth moves on to the other breast, gently sucking and swirling his tongue around the painfully erect nipple. Squeezing the other breast with his hand, his tongue slides to my sternum; licking between the mounds of soft flesh before it travels to my neck, drowning me in shivers as it leaves a wet trail in its wake.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he plants impossibly tender kisses all over my face; following the angle of my jawline, sucking on my chin, playfully biting my lower lip, licking the length of my upper lip; rubbing his nose with mine in an Eskimo kiss. His lips linger on one cheek---then the other---one eyelid, then the other.

“Y-yes,” is all that I can effectively mutter at this point, since my body has turned into complete jello, ravaged by Luke’s hands and mouth.

“Good,” he murmurs as his tongue follows the path to my navel, “because I’m nowhere near done with you.” 

My body sinks into the soft confines of the bed, completely entranced by Luke’s breathing; his scent, his skillful yet intuitive way of exploring every inch of me. Just like he promised.
The way he caresses my arms; his tongue’s fervent journey into the curve of my feet---greeting every single toe; his hand’s discovery of the uneven valley of my legs and thighs, the subtle dip of my belly, the trench that leads to the slope of my lower back, the sensitive nape of my neck, the rounded hills of my ass and the sweaty depths of my groin. When he finally takes off my panties, which is now thoroughly soaked, he takes a moment to hold it up to his face and smell it.

This very act is so unexpected and so strangely erotic, that I don’t even care if I haven’t shaved---or trimmed---in weeks. Normally, I would try to hide that part of myself like I first did with Brad, but with Luke---there is nowhere to hide. He has seen me at my lowest. He has delivered the cold, hard truth even when I hated it---and hated him for it. He slowly helped me pick up the broken pieces of my life and self-esteem. He knows me. He truly knows me. And it’s this very same candid, reckless worship of my body that shreds whatever ounce of apprehension I have left.

I lay on the bed quietly as I search his face. He continues to devour every inch of my body with his eyes before they stop at my most private part. The bare, moist part that’s aching for his mouth, for his hands; to be filled with all of him until my thoughts cease to exist. Slowly, I spread my legs as I hold myself up, letting him explore my warm folds with his eyes, to his heart’s content.

Licking his lips, he shakes his head in utter fascination, proclaiming, “God, Lyn. You’re a…you’re a fucking goddess.”

“You make me this way,” I smile shyly, lowering my lashes at him, already knowing how much he loves this innocent vixen repertoire. Before he can even ask, I reach down and touch myself, spreading my legs wider; tilting my head back as I explore my own soft, wet flesh, hoping his tongue will follow my lead.

“Fuck.” Breathing raggedly, he takes my hand and orders, “On the floor. Sit on my face. Now.”

The moment I straddle his face---his warm, wet tongue probing through my already soaked folds---I cry out in sheer, agonized pleasure. My thighs quiver as I savor his mouth devouring me with fierce hunger, licking up and down, side to side; flicking and teasing my oh-so-sensitive button with his magic wand of a tongue. I am at his absolute, complete mercy as his hands move up and down my thighs; squeezing, caressing, grabbing while his tongue darts in and out of my flooded walls---buzzing, penetrating, in total control of my pleasure. I thought Brad was good, but fuck. Luke not only speaks the language of a woman’s pussy, he damn near invented it.

"Mmmm...so wet...so sweet..." Inbetween frantic breaths, he slows down his tempo by deliberately, painstakingly, running his tongue up and down the length of my slit, from the swollen opening all the way up to the stiff bud; my juices smeared all over his humble, beautiful face. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back. Don't you dare hold back on me."

"Eat it,” I moan desperately, barely able to hold myself up, “eat it.”

"Come on, Lyn. Say what you’re really thinking.”

"Eat my pussy," I demand, almost pleading; my thighs uncontrollably shaking as his tongue switches back and forth between flicking my clit with the most precise pressure and stabbing its way deep inside. “God yeah, eat my pussy. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Mmm, that’s it. Ride my face, baby.”

I grab his head and bury it between my legs, nearly suffocating him, as the warm, slippery, buttery friction between my crotch and his mouth climb to an insurmountable peak. Ramping up the frantic tingles and riot of nerve endings multiplying deep inside, he sets my whole lower body on fire. Hips jerking, back arched, eyes slamming shut; my body explodes without warning as he continues to lick and probe like a rabid animal, prolonging my climax with such earth-shattering, mind-numbing intensity that I can no longer tell if this is an orgasm---or a near-death experience. "H-holy…fucking…s-shit…"

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Unable to hold my weight any longer as my internal muscles continue to contract, I roll over on my side. Luke turns to face me on the floor, watching my body continue to tremble quietly. He smiles as he wipes the beads of sweat clinging to my forehead, peeling the sticky strands of hair away from my face. In the quiet stillness of the room---protected from the dust of snow falling from plump gray clouds, peeking from the frosted windows---I become hypnotized by the sound of our breaths mingling.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, reaching out to caress my face tenderly.

“So are you,” I whisper back, my heart throbbing as I search his heavy green eyes. Never in my life have I felt this…this close to anyone. Never in my life have I felt such searing need---it’s so overwhelming it hurts. Overcome by my own surge of emotions, tears roll down my face.

“Don’t cry.” Pulling me in his arms, he squeezes me tight, as if I’m a dream he never wants to wake up from. Amidst my sobs, he smooths down my hair and strokes my back, kissing me all over my face. “Please don’t cry.”

As my sobs subside, his mouth eventually finds mine. I can feel a shift in his body as he presses himself on me; his hot breath smearing my face; his tongue dancing with mine, probing deeper into my throat. He takes one look at me, his eyes drugged with desire, and asks, “Are you ready for me?”

I nod quietly.

My hand reaches for his boxer briefs and tug until they are completely off him. The sight of his erection nearly makes me gasp, seeing it for the first time. Holy crap. No wonder Brad is jealous. Impatiently, I reach out to feel his hard length. I can barely close my fingers around it and this makes me smile in delight. I watch him suck in his breath at my touch, the way my fingers explore his warm, smooth skin; feeling the hot blood circulate through the protruding veins. As I stroke and squeeze him up and down, I gently guide him between my legs. His eyes lock in on mine as he slowly enters me---letting me feel every single, throbbing, thick inch.

"Do you feel me, Lyn?" He asks hoarsely as he gently picks up his thrusts, careful not to hurt me. "Do you feel me inside you?"

"Y-yes...I...I...f-feel you..." Words fail me as I wrap my legs around his waist, absorbing every single depth of his thrust, tearing into my walls like a jumbo jet trying to pass through a car tunnel, scraping its way in. The more he moves, the more I yield, until the pain subsides and all I feel is the frantic beating of my heart---and the delicious, moist, tight, silky friction of our hot skins. "Oh my God, I feel you."

"I n-need you..." His voice starts to crack, forcing him to avoid my gaze. At that point, I know the despair has come back to haunt him, reminding him that his father is gone. I can feel his body tremble as he continues to move inside me, but his tears escape, falling on my breasts like warm raindrops. "I need you...so fucking m-much..."

I reach out to gently caress his face, wiping his tears away as I search his swollen eyes. When they finally meet mine, I whisper lovingly, “It’s okay. I’m here, baby. Shhh…it’s okay.”

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"I need your love so desperately
And only you can set me free
When I make love to you
We'll explode in ecstasy
And I won't take the blame
That love won't let me wait"

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Without a sound, he picks me up off the wooden floor and carries me towards the kitchen. Right in front of the stove, he bends me over and spreads my legs. The suddenness of it sends my pulse racing, shooting another spark of electricity towards my crotch.

“The stove, huh?” I giggle.

“You have no idea,” he breathes into my ear as he reaches down to stroke my still-moist flesh, “how many times I fantasized about this. With you.”

“Mmm…while you were wanking?”

“Heck yeah. Just thinking about you...God…”

 “Getting fucked from behind?” Crap. It slips out faster than I can even think. I cover my mouth in shock, but there’s a part of me that’s insanely turned on by the sheer bluntness of it. And it’s all Luke’s fault.

“Oh my God,” he shudders, “you just---”

I playfully rub my ass against his massive erection, interrupting him with my most angelic voice. “Made you rock hard?”

“You’re such a bad little girl,” he mutters as he caresses my body. His hands possessively grab my breasts, squeezing them, before they travel down my hips and stroke the length of my thighs. “Now stick your ass out for daddy.”

Holy shit. That word. Brad used to say that. Still recovering from my shock, I quietly do what Luke says.

“So he thought he was your daddy, huh?” He leans closer until his breath is soaking through my ear. “Well, I have some news for him.”

“And…what’s that?” I swallow, my pulse racing again as I brace my buck naked self against the cold, stainless steel stove.

Grabbing my hips---he parts my legs wider with his knees and enters me from behind. He leans down to kiss the side of my neck as he whispers, “I’m your real daddy.”

I gasp, but more surprisingly, at the sudden gush of warm moisture meeting his deep, long thrusts. How can I argue? How can I possibly make an attempt at rationality when the person that I’ve always believed to be a gentleman is now the very same person that makes Brad look like a timid school boy? This side of Luke is truly unnerving, but it’s also the sexiest, hottest, most dominant and most desirable side I’ve ever seen. There’s no denying it---my body knows it, my heart knows it.

“You know it’s true,” he hisses between his teeth as he speeds up his thrusts--- squeezing my ass before I hear a loud SMACK---causing me to moan louder. “Who’s your real daddy?”

“Mmmm…you are,” I gyrate against him, not wanting to miss a single inch, burying him deep inside. “Spank my ass again, daddy.”

“Mother of---“ This causes him to pulsate and pump wildly; pulling my hair with one hand while grabbing my hip with the other. He smacks my ass again, so hard that I whimper in pain but I continue to grind against him---squeezing all of him with my walls. “Oh shit,” he murmurs as he shoots a hot stream of thick liquid inside, “Lyn…I’m…I’m…c-coming…”

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Immediately, he picks me up and places me on the granite countertop. The smooth, cold surface of the porous slab instantly cools off my back, nearly making me jump with its contrast to my sweaty, steamy body. I find myself surrounded by familiar items used for cooking; wooden spatulas, a blender, a wooden knife block teeming with sharp objects, a soap dispenser, a roll of paper towel and naturally---a small carton of Luke’s unfinished protein drink. I never thought I’d see the day when I'd become his dinner; like a piece of thick, marbled, ribeye steak fresh from the butcher. Ready to be seasoned.

The mere sight of Luke getting on his knees and parting my legs sends me into a panic, being reminded that there’s still a part of him that’s marinating inside me----viscous, hot and very, very potent. Every cell in my body knows it. "L-Luke...what are you doing?"

"I wanna suck our juices out of you,” he whispers, biting his lower lip with twinkling eyes, “while you're coming."

"Oh my God..."

"There's no turning back.” He searches my eyes for the last time before diving in. With my thighs wrapped around his neck, he hungrily buries his face between my legs; lapping between the swollen folds, darting his stiff tongue in and out of my walls and moving it to my throbbing button, quick and light like the delicate wings of a hummingbird. I can feel the hot liquid coming out of me, but he continues to push it in with this tongue; my pool of moisture joining with his like magma finally leaking from the surface of a volcano. “This pussy is mine. Understand?"

"Y-yes. It's all y-yours." I choke on my own words as I blindly run my fingers through his thick, brown hair. My senses heightened---pushed and elevated into such a raw, primal state---drowning in pure erotic instinct. If heaven exists, this must be it. This is the place that transcends animal urges, human need and spiritual longing. This is the place where they all merge, creating a feeling of complete and utter humility. The realization that someone understands me, truly understands me. It’s nothing short of magic. "Mmmm...keep going."

"Mmm...look at it dripping down your ass."

"L-Luke! What are you---" I try to push his face away, but I’m no match for his strength. His tongue finds the tight, puckered secret of my ass. "Oh, fuck."

"Shhhh...you never had that licked before?"

"No..."

"Good,” he smiles wickedly. With his tongue probing my ass, he enters me with his index and middle finger, prodding and scraping the upper part of my walls. “Then you probably never came like this before, either."

"L-Lucas...Lucas! Lucas!!” I buck, my hips convulsing, toes curled, painfully aware that I just lost control of my bladder. "Oh my God, I’m so sorry."

“For what, baby?” He looks up at me, his face drenched in something I can’t quite describe.

“I think I just peed on you…I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and quickly licks his lips. “Trust me, it’s not pee.”

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I remain plastered on the countertop, unable to move. Whatever that explosion was, it sent all the nerve endings in my body into a frenzy---blanketing me with an electric buzz from my scalp, to the tip of my fingers, all the way down the tip of my toes. After wiping his face with a kitchen towel, Luke helps me sit up and observes, "You're shaking..." 

I nod quietly.

"You okay?" He asks, gently lifting my chin up with his hand until I finally find the courage to look into his pale green eyes. They’re still clouded with grief, but there’s a depth of tenderness in them, a sort of warmth from the afterglow of beautiful, wonderful release. In his eyes I see myself. I see Emma. And I see Jesse.

Without warning, I become submerged in all of the feelings, the love, the passion, the history and the unbearable, tragic loss. Without warning, I find myself falling in love with this man in front of me.

Unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze, I look away again. "I'm just..."

"Scared?"

"T-terrified."

"It's okay," he leans in to give me a soft, lingering kiss, "so am I..."

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"And I refuse to leave
Till I see the morning sun
Creep through your 
Window pane
'Cause love won't
Let me wait"

*Copyright 2013 Lyn C.S.*
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Author's Note: God, this was a tough chapter to write. I got hit by the worst case of writer's block. I wanted it to be perfect, almost to the point where I was afraid to write it. lol Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed. It's definitely been a long time coming for Lyn and Luke.

And a special thanks to Karri for this awesome pic. It brought some much-needed inspiration. :)

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"Love Won't Let Me Wait" Cover by John Legend
Original by Major Harris
Video by: Dorothea Joseph

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Chapter Forty-Five (I'll Stand By You)

Previously, on "Memoirs Of A City Girl":
Ch. (44) Tears Dry On Their Own
-After Luke left, I ran upstairs to my bedroom
to try and make sense of what just happened.
-Brad asked what Luke was doing here.
-I told him that Luke needed to talk to me about something. 
-To my surprise, Brad admitted that he saw
everything that happened in my flashbacks,
especially Luke's connection to Jesse.
-Even though he implied that Luke and I finally
found each other, I changed the subject.
-I asked Brad why he never told me about his alcoholic father.
-He ended up telling me about his painful past,
including his mom's abandonment, being abused
and having to take care of J.C., his younger brother.
-He was afraid that if I found out, I would leave him.
-I told him that he was wrong, that I would have
loved him more because of it, but he never gave me a chance.
-I found myself needing to be alone, wishing
Luke was still here.

*Strong language*

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Location: 1012 Pomona Promenade
Date: Tuesday, 11/8/2011
Time: 5:27 p.m.

I can feel the oxygen flee from the microscopic air sacs that make up my lungs, or at least the remains of it, as I try to process the information relayed on the phone. Dead. Everything else becomes static noise after that, even though I am fully aware that Brad is breathing on the other line---barely. It feels as if someone just dunked my head in the toilet bowl, submerging my face as it flushes, as I try to gasp for air. I clutch my cellphone with all of the strength that I have left, trying desperately to prevent my knees from buckling. My free hand absentmindedly reaches for the surface of the kitchen island as I mutter, "What?!" 

"Yeah. I just got off the phone with J.C." Brad's solemn voice---bordering on hopeless---starts to crush any hope I have left that it's all a mistake. That they have the wrong person.

"Oh my God, no!" 

"He's like a father to me. He was---damn it!"

"Poor Luke..." A heaviness falls on me like a net made of iron chains, dragging me down, as I try to support the rest of my weight against the sturdy corner of the island. For him to come home to this, after the way I left things. The shattered look in his eyes before he walked out the door. Oh, how I wish I can just take him in my arms right now. Tell him it's going to be okay. Let him know he's not alone...but...I'm not even sure if I deserve to do that. "I can't even..."

"Do you think you can go check on him? I would, but...I'm probably the last person he wants to see right now."

Check on him? Coming from another person, this suggestion sounds logical. But coming from Brad---knowing the fall-out he had with his best friend---almost defies reason. He actually wants me to go to Luke. "What makes you think he'll talk to me?"

"He will...once he sees you."

For a moment, everything falls completely silent. Somewhere in the rubble of my chaotic mind and the trepidation of my own heart, there lies a seedling of hope faintly emerging, coaxed by Brad's unwavering statement. He sounds so sure of it, as if there is no other interpretation left for doubt. "I don't know, Brad." 

"I'll take care of Nikki. Just leave a spare key in your mailbox."

"Alright. What's his address?"

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As I look back in my rearview mirror, watching the small town of Appaloosa fade off into the tired afternoon sky, I know there's no turning back. I hadn't planned on going back to Bridgeport this soon, let alone see Luke. I didn't even pack anything, not one shirt, not one pair of pants, not even a toothbrush. Just my purse, cellphone and a full tank of gas. After leaving the spare key in the mailbox, I drove off with nothing but hope. Hope that Brad is right. Hope that I'll have the courage to keep on driving, despite the negative memories still lingering in the dark corners of my mind. Hope that I'll be able to bring some comfort to Luke---if he'll let me in long enough to explain myself, to explain everything.

But could I really just show up like this? Without warning or permission? My heart starts to suffocate at the thought that he might not be home when I get there. Or worse yet, he might be in the company of another woman---comforting him. Shit. At a time like this, it could very well be a possibility. 

Fear takes over. Even as I grasp the steering wheel with both hands, trying to focus on the road, the desire to go back home and avoid rejection grows by the second. Just when I think about turning the truck around, I'm plagued by something even stronger than fear: guilt. The mere idea of Luke having to go through this alone---as if the whole world just abandoned him---triggers flashbacks of my own darkest hours. Nobody should ever have to go through that alone. Ever.

When I finally muster up the courage to call Luke and let him know I'm coming, it automatically goes into his voicemail. Not even one ring. The mere sound of his voice causes a wave of panic, deserted by words, knowing the seconds are counting down before that inevitable "beep". 

"Hi, this is Luke Rossi. Sorry I missed your---"

I hang up.

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By the time I'm within city limits of Bridgeport, I can see the cluster of lights adorning every single building---reminiscent of the hot, bright center of a galaxy---drawing everything in by its gravitational pull, bringing it to life. This city, which contains all the memories of my childhood, all the remnants of my hopes and dreams, my happiness and sorrow, all the pieces of a life I once knew---boils down to a single bridge. The moment the tires make contact with the concrete deck, passing every single suspension cable in its path, I become flooded by memories of the last time I was here---looking down at the water, tempted to jump. I try to look away and fight the tears, hoping to avoid the pain that's creeping back in, but my heart won't let me. 


Everything comes back like snippets of a movie, just as vivid as yesterday. Coming home to find Brad's sweaty body writhing with Naveah's, the pleasure that leaked out of their mouths, my heart being sliced apart by razor blades, the regret on Brad's face, the shame on hers, the horror in her eyes as I smashed her face to a pulp, smelling the fresh copper in her blood, the urgent need to witness her last breath. 

Running down the stairs in humiliation, Brad chasing me down the street, begging for me to come back, being saved by a cab and telling the driver to take me to the bridge. Stopping at the bridge, leaning over the railing, wanting the pain to stop so bad, wondering what would happen if I jumped. Wondering if I'd finally be free...wondering if anyone would care if I washed up on shore.

What was it that stopped me? What was it that convinced me to turn around, get back in a cab and head to Appaloosa? Maybe it's what saved my life---and the very same thing that brought me back---guilt. 

Or could it have been...Luke?

 photo Screenshot-72-2.jpg

Location: 1557 Memorial Parkway
Time: 7:42 p.m.

With what seems like eternity between knocks---my heart trying to escape through my throat---I can hear scuffling of feet and a twist of a doorknob. Dear God. He's home. The door slowly gives way, revealing perfectly chiseled abs, a rock-hard chest and bulging arms kissed by tats. If my jaws dropped to the floor and slipped on my own slobber, I wouldn't know it. There's only so much hotness my brain can process. 

The moment my eyes land on his, I can feel my neurons jump and crash blindly into each other, like electrically charged microchips sinking into a bottomless ocean of warm, pale, lustrous green. But this glimpse of paradise is short-lived. The muddy sediments of pain turn the waters a murky olive, like a cobalt sky ambushed by gray clouds,  highlighting the puffiness around his eyes. 

"Lyn..." He whispers, as if saying my name will help him differentiate between a dream, a nightmare and reality. The sparkle and vitality in his eyes---that never fail to make my heart skip a beat---flicker down to its last embers, overwhelmed by the weight of despair. 

"Oh, why you
 Look so sad?
The tears are
In your eyes
Come on and 
Come to me now"

 photo Screenshot-8-7.jpg

"Hi..." I manage to say, still standing at his door, at a loss for anything that remotely sounds like the English language. Seeing Luke like this...just kills me. It absolutely kills me. And I can literally hear and feel the tear of every artery, every capillary and every blood vessel in my heart.

"What are you doing here?" 

"Brad told me what happened...I'm so sorry."

"Yeah..." As if reminded once again of his nightmare, he finally breaks the spell of his gaze and looks down at the floor.

"I thought I'd see how you're doing. I tried to call, but you didn't answer." I explain, realizing that he still hasn't invited me in, nor has he given any indication of doing so. Suddenly feeling foolish for showing up---I try to make a dignified exit by adding, "Anyway...I'm sorry about the other night. I just...I was...I understand if you don't want---"


"Shhh. It doesn't matter," He interrupts gruffly as he picks me up in his arms, carrying me inside, kicking the door close. "You're here. You're really here."

"Yes." Our eyes meet again, a sort of glimpse into the creation of the universe, into the very same instant that time revealed itself, igniting the spark of consciousness and cellular memories of each incarnation. 
My Jesse. Words become obsolete at the throbbing of my heart and the urgency in my warm breath, mixing with his. Gently cupping his brutally handsome face, I whisper breathlessly, "I'm here." 

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As he loosens his hold on me, my body slowly slides down against his. Without thought, he pulls me close, so close that not even air particles can wedge themselves between his skin and mine. Not even the fabric of my own top. I can feel the cotton fibers dissolving under the balmy temperature of his smooth skin---pressing, radiating, bubbling. His lungs expand as his lips brush against the top of my head, kissing it softly as he mutters, "God, I missed you."

"I missed you too," I reply quietly, my eyelids shutting close, as if that's the only way I can really tell that I'm not dreaming, as my hands slowly roam up and down his back. I can't believe I'm here, in his apartment. My face resting on his bare chest, I become entranced by his scent---a mixture of salty sweat, breezy CK Free cologne and delicious pheromones of a man that evoke raw desires, deep inside.

"Did you?" His voice trickle into my ears, tinged with ache, a need---a hunger for something I can't describe. A dam of suppressed energy destined to flood and submerge everything in its sight---including me.

"Yes. More than you know." Overcome by my own emotions, I can no longer tell who's pulse is hammering wildly. I can no longer control the shortness of my own breath as I try to maintain my balance---and coherence---in his arms. I simply give in to the silence and stillness of the moment.

"And don't be
Ashamed to cry
Let me see you
Through
Cause I've seen
The dark side too"

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In the purity of our embrace, reality forces its way between us, knocking us out of our spell. I can feel Luke's body tense up against mine as he tries to hold back the tears, but the jerkiness of his breath tells me it's too late. His hands close in on my arms tightly, bordering on pain, but I bear through it. His eyes, which are now red and heavy, search mine---as if they contain the answers---or the magic remote control that can rewind time and bring his father back. Then a sort of haze washes over his face as he blankly looks through me and whispers, "He's gone..."

Knowing its going to be a long night, I take his hand and lead him towards the bed, where he can at least lie down. "You should sit down."

"He's gone," Luke says weakly, as he sits on the edge of the bed. Shaking his head, he buries his face in his hands, unable to restrain the deep, guttural sobs---causing his whole body to shake and sink in defeat. "My d-daddy's gone! Why? W-Why??"

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," I climb on the bed with him, rubbing his back, not able to fight back my own tears, feeling completely helpless. 

"I just saw him a f-few days ago. We had d-drinks with my bro-thers. Then...then they found his body in his car last night. In the parking lot. A gunshot to the chest and m-mouth. They think it's suicide but there's no note."

"Oh, no..."

"Suicide! They think he committed s-suicide! Why would he do that? And why would he do it at the firestation? It just doesn't add up!"

"I know, baby. Let it out."

"I know my dad! He wouldn't kill himself!" In the brief moment that he flashes his green eyes at me, there's a fury, a thirst for vengeance that sends shivers up my spine. Not necessarily because I fear for my own safety, but because of the coldness behind it. A justified means to an end. "Someone murdered him, I know it! And if I ever find out who did this, I swear to God, I will put those same bullets between their eyes. I swear to fucking God!! I swear---"


"So if you're mad
Get mad
Don't hold it all inside
Come on and
Talk to me now
Hey there
What you got to hide?
I get angry too
Well, I'm a lot like you"


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"Come here," I scoot towards the middle of the bed, motioning for him to come closer so I can hug him. Instead, he shifts his body so that I'm securely tucked in his arms, with our legs intertwined. Quietly, I reach for a tissue and wipe the tears off his face, listening to his sobs subside. With one hand holding a clean tissue while the other hand smooths out his damp hair, I gently instruct, "Blow your nose."

After emptying his red, congested nose, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me even closer to him, reuniting the cozy warmth of our bodies. "Lyn?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you..."

"For what?"

"For being here." 

"Why wouldn't I be? You've always been there for me."

"Lyn..." There's a change in his voice, in the way he says my name, that takes over the rest of his body, shifting and pressing against mine. The way his hands gently cup my back, moving up and down in such finesse that it feels light as a feather, but wakes up every pore that holds a hair follicle on my skin.

"Y-yes?" I whimper, lost in his scent, drowning in his warm, quickening breath grazing my neck, paralyzed by this air of electricity between us. This thick, magnetic, primal, emotional, sexual energy weaving around the bed---swirling, coaxing, enveloping---wearing down our defenses.

"I need you...I need you so bad."

"I'll stand by you
Baby even to your
Darkest hour
And I'll never 
Desert you
I'll stand by you"


*Copyright 2013 Lyn C.S.* 

---------------------------------------

"I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders

Video by: mrtamberineman123

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Chapter Forty-Four (Tears Dry On Their Own)

Previously, on "Memoirs Of A City Girl":
 Ch. 43 (So Close)
-I woke up in my bedroom with Luke next to me.
-He told me that I passed out.
-After asking him what he was doing here, he said
that he needed to tell me something.
-The moment our eyes locked, everything started
 coming back to me. 
-When I asked him if he was Jesse, he said yes.
-Even though my heart leaped in joy at this possibility, I became 
bombarded by memories of him dying in my arms.
-The pain came back, and I ran out of the bedroom screaming.
-By the time I got to the living room, Brad was
came in, so I ran into his arms.
-Luke followed right behind me, witnessing the whole thing.
-I told Luke that I just couldn't deal with it.
-He asked if I was going back to Brad after everything
 that's happened.
-I couldn't even respond, let alone speak.
-Luke walked out the door.

*Strong language*

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Location: 1012 Pomona Promenade
Date: Saturday, 11/6/2011
Time: 7:46 p.m.

Nothing, not even the restlessness of my own thoughts can drown out the hammering of my own heart as I sit up on the bed, trying to make sense of what just happened. It's not possible, it just can't be! But how do I explain what I saw earlier, when I looked into Luke's pale green eyes? It felt as if this blue streak of electricity penetrated through my whole being, as if my soul was getting a jump start. How do I explain the memories that flashed through his eyes, everything that happened since 1904? The love, the pain and that moment when I held him in my arms as he was dying---as if it just happened yesterday? The promise we made to each other, as he took his last breath, the immense guilt and the desperate wish for time to move faster? 

I had forgotten it all, until now. Now that the blueprint of my DNA has unraveled, now that my heart remembers its first beat and now that my soul recognizes the man that just walked out the door.  The man that I loved beyond human reason, the man that I've searched my whole life for---came back. Jesse actually came back...as Luke. Holy shit. As petrified as I am at this realization---my body trembling, my tears continuing to fall---something is changing in me. I can feel it to my very core.

"Are you okay?" Brad's voice, along with his footsteps, startle me as he walks into the room. 

 I nod, wiping my face as I try to regain my composure. For a moment, I had forgotten his presence. As soon as I heard the front door slam, I rushed upstairs, knowing I just pushed Luke away. The guilt, on top of the painful memories of our past life, was too much and I just didn't have the heart to watch him leave. "It's just...a lot to take in."

"I'm sorry."

"Is he gone?"

"Yeah."

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He's gone. Just like that. A minute ago, he was sitting here next to me, in the same spot where Brad is, rubbing my back. The person that took me home and waited patiently until I regained consciousness---is gone. Now, more than ever, I feel even more confused. I can still feel Luke's presence in this room, hovering around us, refusing to leave my sight. He's probably on the road as I speak, back to Bridgeport, but I can still feel him. God, I feel him. And I wish I hadn't let him walk away so easily. Sensing my silence, Brad searches my face solemnly and asks, "How did he know where we were?"

"I don't know." My eyes quickly spot the stars returning in the indigo sky as I look out the window, now that the rain stopped and took the clouds with it. Like Luke, it's almost hard to believe that they were here at all, as if they didn't leave any traces behind, not even one raindrop or speck of fog on the window. Everything is perfectly still, perfectly quiet, and I want to scream, just to break the silence---and erase this void that Luke left behind. "He never told me he was coming." 

"Why was he here?"

"He said he needed to tell me something...but..."

"What?"

"It's going to sound crazy," I turn to Brad, hesitating if I should tell him what happened, but at this point, he's the only person I can talk to. "I've been having flashbacks of my past life and---"

His eyes simmer down into a steel blue shade as the soft glow of the lamp soaks through them, unveiling a sort of sadness, an undeniable knowing. "And Luke...is Jesse?"

My heart, as well as my mind, comes to a screeching halt, forgetting how to function."What?? How do you---"

"I saw everything."

"All I can ever be
To you
Is a darkness
That we knew
And this regret
I got accustomed to"

 photo Screenshot-103.jpg

Too imprisoned by shock to speak, my bottom slides off the bed as I blankly stare into space, merely blinking once I hit the floor. I can feel my body sink even more, wondering why I haven't crashed through the living room---with all of my weight bearing down on the wooden floor like a wrecking ball. Brad slides down along with me. He would look at my face, appear to say something, but end up looking away and changing his mind. After what seems to be an eternal silence, he softly mutters, "I killed him....and you....and myself."

"Oh my God..." It feels like a car just broke through the window and pummeled me on the back, knocking out my breath---along with the rest of the organs in my body. "William..."

"I can't...I just...I don't even know where to begin."

"So it's true...it's all true." With my trembling hands covering my face, all I can do is look down at the floor as I connect the shattered pieces of my past. A past that has long been left behind in the cosmos, confined at the center of time, clinging to every tendril of dark space in the universe. In one instant, they come flooding down in this very same room, on this very same floor, on this very same lavender rug. I came back. Jesse came back. And now...William. He was not part of the plan. He was not part of the promise. But he came back somehow, and found me again. "Oh my God..."

"It all makes sense. That night you two met. You finally found each---"

"Stop. I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"Why not? You couldn't even look at him tonight. You say you're friends, but---"

"Oh, so you want me to be honest?" My hands drop down to my lap as I search his eyes, enraged that he wants to push for the truth all of a sudden, especially about me and Luke. I'm not ready for any of this. I can't even...think about Luke...and the fact that he's...no, I won't. Or the fact that Brad is the same man that killed...no. And having to leave Abby and John as...no, no! The pain comes back, and all I can do is shift my state of mind to the present---in an attempt to alleviate it. "Let's start with you. Why didn't you tell me about your alcoholic father?"

"Lyn...let's not go there." He protests, looking away.

"No, let's go there. I was with you for two years. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"What do you wanna know?" He meets my gaze again, but this time, with cold, distant eyes under bunched up eyebrows---his nostrils flaring. "That my dad beat the shit out of me and my brother? That he was never sober? That he treated my mom like shit and fucked her up too? That---"

"Brad---"

 photo Screenshot-11-5.jpg

"Or how about the fact that my mom left us when I was 10 and never came back? Maybe you wanna hear about the part where I've had to work since I was 14 since my dad could barely hold down a job?" His words bombard me like physical onslaughts emanating from his icy eyes, which are now flashing at me, glistening. He hasn't raised his voice once, but the pain and regret amplifies them ten-fold, making me shrink away in remorse, as if I just opened a door that should have been left closed. "Or the part where I had to take care of my brother just so CPS didn't separate us? Or that I envied Luke because he had such a perfect life?"

I watch him bury his face in his hands as he tries unsuccessfully to conceal his sobs---and broken voice---but they still emerge forcefully from a deep, dark place. I have never seen Brad like this. So damaged, so desolate, so transparent. Unable to fight my own tears, I place my hand on his arm and whisper, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't know," He quickly interjects, shaking his head. Then he stares blankly at the window, as if the truth is behind the shutters, waving at him, waiting to be invited inside. It's clear that he's wrestling with something. It's written all over his face, the way his eyelids close shut, counting the seconds as they pass---waiting for the right moment. Finally, they open slowly, flashing their baby blues, directly into me. "If you did, you probably would have left. Just like my mom. How can anybody love such a fucked up person?"


Bricks. Crashing through the roof like giant pieces of hail. Leaving dents on everything: the wooden floor, the bed, the desk, the sofa and the top of my head. In the dusty aftermath of this thing called truth, I find my voice. "Is that what you thought? That I would leave you?"

Silence.

"You couldn't have been more wrong," I explain, searching his eyes, which are now red and soaked in tears, ready to fall. He looks away, but I grab his face and force him to look at me, watching the liquid leak down his flushed cheeks. All this time, I thought I could never make him happy, that I would never be good enough and he stopped trying because he got bored. In reality, he was sabotaging the relationship before it had the chance to sabotage him---plagued by his own abandonment issues. "I would have loved you more because of it. Because I would have seen the real you, and I would have hurt for that little boy that went through so much pain....because I understand.
"

Silence.

"But we will never know now, will we?" I continue, hearing Luke's gentle voice of reason in my head,"You didn't give me a chance to prove you wrong. Instead, you cheated on me."

"We could have
Never had it all
We had to hit a wall
So this is inevitable 
Withdrawal"

 photo Screenshot-35.jpg

He cheated on me. And somehow, he's still here. Luke was there, through everything, helping me pick up the pieces of my broken heart, and I pushed him away. Why did I do that? Suddenly, I'm recognizing the anomaly---and irony in this picture. Brad's once comforting presence becomes more of a nuisance now, a burden that I want to extricate myself from. I push myself off the floor and say solemnly, "I need to be alone right now."

"I'm sorry," He places his hands on my waist as he gets up, leaning close enough for his breath to brush the side of my neck. "I should have been more honest with you."

Normally, I would melt at how painstakingly close his body is to mine. This time, I am too clearly reminded of what had gone wrong---and Brad's responsibility in it---as well as mine. Without moving an inch, I reply, "Yeah...I wish things could have been different."

"I'll leave," He squeezes my waist, the disappointment in his voice evident. "If you need anything, you have my number. Call me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Get some rest. I love you."

"You too."

"By the way, about what I asked you earlier. Will you at least think about it?"

"I'll think about it."

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After hearing Brad's car drive off, the silence in the room becomes even more apparent. Not because I'm alone again or the fact that Brad left. It's because I miss Luke. It hit me so unexpectedly that I couldn't quite pinpoint what I was feeling---wishing he was still here, aching to hear his voice, the need to talk to him about everything. Just when I reach for my cellphone, a bolt of fear prevents me from dialing his number. What if he doesn't answer? How could I possibly explain myself, when I didn't even give him a chance to talk?

I need to be alone right now, I remind myself. With this realization, I grab Smokey from the floor and climb on the bed. As I sink on the plush duvet, squeezing my beloved teddy bear tight, Luke's earthy cologne lingers on my nose like a soft caress---evoking wistful memories of him. 


Damn it, he could have been here.

"He walks away
The sun goes down
He takes the day
But I'm grown
And in your way
In this blue shade
My tears dry
On their own"


*Copyright 2013 Lyn C.S.*
--------------------------------------------------------

"Tears Dry On Their Own" by Amy Winehouse
(Original Version)

Video by: Macarena Doll