14

For days there was very little discussion from Tom. He slept on the couch. He spent time in the woods, and hit the punching bag in the gym more often than I wanted to think about. His friend Jake called, fresh home from an overseas tour of duty, and, more than once during their long phone calls, I heard my name mentioned. Once I heard him crying in his office while Jake was on the other line and, even as I was embarrassed that someone else knew what I had done, I was glad Tom had someone to talk to.

I once begged him to come to bed with me, to simply hold me while we talked things over. He glared at me with such intensity I took a step back and caught my breath.

‘I’ll be in there when I’m damn good and ready,’ he said.

I hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether I should say anything at all.

‘Maybe I should leave,’ I finally whispered.

Tom stared at me. ‘Is that what you want?’

‘No.’ Tears sprang into my eyes. ‘I came home to you.’

Tom shook his head and, though his attitude and his stance didn’t change, his voice was softer than it had been in days. ‘We will talk this out soon. But not now, Kelley. I can’t do that yet.’

‘Maybe I shouldn’t be here,’ I repeated.

‘You came home, Kelley,’ he said. ‘I want you to stay.’

The questions finally came to a head, and I couldn’t help but blurt out what I had been so afraid of all this time. ‘Are we over?’

Tom didn’t answer for the longest time. I was ready to break away, to bolt and run and pack all my things, when he finally responded.

‘No. We’re not over. We’re just in suspended animation, Kelley.’

‘But –’

‘Go to bed,’ he said, and his tone made it clear the discussion was over.

In the big bed that was so comfortable for the two of us, I tossed and turned. I listened to him snore from the living room. How could he sleep at a time like this?

It was four long days before Tom came to me.

‘Tell me how it happened,’ Tom finally said. ‘I don’t want details. I don’t want to know what you did with him. I just want to know how one thing led to another.’

We were standing in the kitchen. Tom had crept up behind me and wrapped his arms around me before I had a chance to realize he was there. It was almost the same as the night we had come back from the airport, the same stance, looking over the same scene. I had been doing dishes, the same as before. It was like the last four days hadn’t really happened – like we were back in the same place we had been on that day when I told him what I had done. The ambush set up a well of longing in my heart. My chest was heavy with unshed tears.

I told him. I told him everything, from the moment I got to the island, starting with the dolphins. I told him about the bartender, the businessman who was working so hard, the couple on the stools who weren’t noticing anyone but each other – and then I told him about the painter, and the drawing on a napkin.

Tom rested his chin on my shoulder while I talked. The pressure of his hands never wavered. His breathing didn’t change. I would have thought he was asleep, if he hadn’t been standing up. I expected a reaction of some kind, but I didn’t get a single one until I was finished.

Then: ‘Is that all, Kelley?’

‘That’s all. I swear to you, Tom. That’s all.’

One of his hands slid up. It rested lightly against my throat. His touch was possessive and gentle all at once.

‘What about Michael?’

‘Michael is not a problem any more.’

‘Why not?’

I took a deep breath and hoped I wouldn’t offend Tom with my answer. Even though it was the honest truth, in light of the circumstances it could be seen as an excuse.

‘Because I understand how easy it can be to do the wrong thing.’

Tom’s arms tightened around me. We stood there in silence for a very long time, until the sun began to drop and the room became dark. Finally Tom pulled my T-shirt off my shoulder and kissed the bare skin he uncovered there.

‘Come to bed,’ he said. ‘It’s over now.’

All the strength ran out of my knees. I slumped in his arms, and he held me up as though he was expecting this sort of breakdown. The sobs came, and I didn’t try to stop them. I leaned over the counter and, instead of trying to control myself, I just let it go. There was nothing left to hide from him any longer.

Tom leaned over me and pulled my hair away from my face. He cooed to me, as if I was a child in need of comfort. He whispered into my ear. ‘Hush, little one. It’s all right. I understand, and it’s all right.’

I sobbed until there was nothing left in me. Tom cried, too. His tears were silent, but I could feel them as they fell onto my back, seeping through my shirt, leaving small circles of pain that evaporated to coolness in the air.

‘Come to bed,’ he said again, when the tears were all gone.

‘Are you sure?’

My voice cracked. My throat was sore from all the crying I had done over the last few days. My self-esteem was at an all-time low, and Tom was the only one who could pull me out of that downward spiral. I needed to know he accepted me still, even after all this, with all my shortcomings and mistakes.

‘I’m absolutely sure,’ he said and, though his words were strong, his voice faltered just like mine did.

‘I almost lost you,’ I said, hardly willing to believe that I was forgiven.

Amazingly, Tom laughed out loud. The sound wasn’t filled with mirth – rather, it was a sound of relief. His words were balm to a tortured soul.

‘No. You couldn’t lose me. You never even came close, Kelley.’

He carefully wiped the tears from my eyes with his fingertips. He trailed his hand down my throat, that familiar touch I knew so well.

‘Come to bed,’ he said the third time.

Kissing Tom after those long lonely days felt like coming home. He eased my fears with the first touch, when he moaned in that way that only Tom did. His breath was short and his heart was thudding hard under my palm. It was just like that first night in his basement, when he was so afraid he wouldn’t satisfy me. Same story, different time – but it all seemed to blend into one.

‘I love you,’ I whispered against his skin.

‘I know you do,’ he said, and this time his voice was broken by tears.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.

‘I know that, too.’

Tom’s hands were everywhere. I watched his face as he abruptly pulled away from me and his eyes trailed over the curve of my jaw, the soft dips of my collarbone.

‘I want to be better than he was.’

The words were a shock, even if they shouldn’t have been. This was the same thing I had felt – this was the same thing I had gone through. This is what Michael had done to me.

Suddenly, what Michael had done was a gift of sorts. There was a silver lining in the heartbreak after all. This had been done to me – and what had I needed to recover? What were all those things Michael hadn’t given me? I could now give those things to Tom. I could make up for what was done to me by making everything up to him.

The relief of it made my body weak, but my determination was strong.

‘He is nothing compared to you,’ I said vehemently, not sure whether I meant Daniel or Michael. Either way, I knew it was the truth. ‘Nothing, Tom. Do you hear me? Nothing.’

Tom nodded. He closed his eyes.

‘I will do whatever it takes to show you,’ I said. ‘Just give me a chance.’

Tom took a deep breath. ‘I’ll give you my whole life,’ he whispered.

I pulled him down onto the bed with me.

Every moment there in the darkness felt surreal, as if we had fallen through a rip in time. Every touch was like the first between two lovers who were afraid of what they might find – afraid of being rejected, of being torn apart with the wrong word or the wrong glance. It was everything I had wanted when things ended so harshly between Michael and me. It was everything I needed to give, now that I had jeopardized the love of a man who meant the most to me. One moment bled into another, the past moved into the present, and it all became a new beginning.

Tom lay back on the bed. The moonlight fell over his body. His breathing was deep and steady, but the throbbing of the pulse in his throat told me he was scared.

I touched his throat. I cupped my hand around it, touching him lightly, the same possessive way he loved to touch me. His lips opened but he didn’t say a word. I slid my fingertips along his skin, until I reached the fabric of his T-shirt. I traced the line of it, all the way around his neck, across his shoulders, all the way around his arms. By the time I got to the end of it, he was breathing a little harder.

I tugged on the shirt. He sat up just enough to let me pull it over his head. His hair was in disarray as he lay back against the pillows.

I started with his jaw and worked my way down, touching every inch of him. He lay very still underneath me. His eyes moved quickly behind his eyelids and I knew exactly how he felt – every instinct was telling him to cut and run. It took all the energy he had to just lie there and let me touch him.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ I whispered.

Tom flinched slightly, but nothing else about him changed.

My lips followed the trail my hands had made. Even when I kissed his ribs and he flinched away from my touch, ticklish now that his entire being was focused on the sensation, I didn’t stop. I just let his body ease before I laid another kiss down, right beside the one before it. By the time I got to Tom’s belly button, he was breathing hard and his whole body was covered in goosebumps.

I unbuttoned his jeans. The zipper came down so slowly it didn’t make a sound. I slid the jeans away, one slow inch at a time, kissing my way down his legs. Tom moaned once when I kissed the inside of his knee. By the time I was done, there was only one place that hadn’t been kissed or touched or caressed.

‘You are everything I have ever wanted,’ I said against his skin.

He was hard as steel. His cock throbbed in my hand. The veins were hard and pulsing. I had never seen him so aroused. He moaned lightly as I slid my hand up and down, from side to side, like a corkscrew going up and down his shaft.

I leaned forwards and licked that most sensitive spot, the place right underneath his head that always made his cock move as if it had a life of its own. It jerked in my hand and Tom’s moan was louder. I teased that spot with the tip of my tongue, coaxing more wetness out of him, until he bucked once into my hand, asking silently for more.

I slid my tongue over the head of his cock. The effect was electric. His dick jerked hard, and I squeezed him at the same time. Tom’s hand came down and tangled in my hair. There was tentativeness in his touch, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He was giving himself over to the pleasure.

The head of his cock throbbed wildly as I sucked him into my mouth. I settled my teeth right underneath the ridge of his crown. I didn’t bite down, but I gave the hint of what I could do if I chose, and the question of it – will she or won’t she? – pushed Tom to an even higher pitch. I gently scraped my teeth over the head, and Tom’s shudder told me how much he liked it. I did it again. The third time his hand tightened in my hair, and he thrust his hips up. When I finally sucked him deep into my mouth, he groaned in approval.

Now that my mouth was busy, I had both hands free. I ran them up his chest and played with his nipples, rolling them between my fingertips, making them hard as little rocks. Tom suddenly let go of my hair and grabbed the headboard.

‘Don’t stop,’ he said, almost desperately, as if he didn’t know I wanted this just as much as he did.

Tom’s knuckles were white on the headboard. Still he hadn’t opened his eyes. I watched his face as he jerked between my lips one last time. His orgasm flooded my mouth. His low cry was something like a sob. Then he was reaching for me, pulling me up to his side even before his release was over.

‘I was so scared,’ he whispered against my neck. My fingers laced through his hair and held on tight while he rocked back and forth on the bed, trying to pull me closer, almost as if he could fold me into himself.

‘There’s nothing to be scared of now. Not any more.’

Calmness came by slow degrees. He took deep breaths, one after another, until his body was gripped with a different kind of urgency. He began to remove my clothes, one slow inch at a time, until I was just as naked as he was.

Tom didn’t touch me with his fingertips, or his tongue, or his body – only with his breath. Cool trails meandered over my skin, from the tip of my chin to the hollow of my throat, along my collarbone, down each arm, then over to my belly, where he worked in widening circles until he was back up at my lips.

He gently blew air over my lips as I opened them and reached for him. I took his breath into myself, sucked it down, took every wisp of air he offered. My whole body was trembling, my mind was wiped clean, my very soul was aching for him to make love to me – and he hadn’t even touched me yet.

‘Touch me,’ I begged, and he smiled down at me.

‘I am,’ he said. ‘Can’t you feel it?’

Tom worked the same magic along my legs, on each of my feet, over my ankles and back up. By the time he reached the center of me, I was sure he would stop the teasing and give me what we both needed, but he didn’t. It was still only his breath, coming harsher now, faster, against my heated skin.

Unable to take any more, I lifted my hands to my breasts and started to play with my nipples. Tom looked up at me with eyes that were hungry and wanton, and I realized what he had wanted all along.

His breath led my touch. He showed me what he wanted with every exhale. When he finally blew cool air over my clit, my fingers were right behind it, stroking into the wetness. The rush of passion was so sudden, so intense, that it shook me into utter silence.

‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Show me.’

Tom and I worked in counterpoint, his breath and then my touches, until it was nothing but my touches and his words, encouraging me, telling me how beautiful it was to watch me, asking me to come, to show him everything.

The orgasm swept through my whole body, from the tingling of my toes to the dizziness that made me close my eyes. My stomach quivered with butterflies. I arched up under Tom’s gaze, letting him watch every moment as the pleasure wracked my body and left me breathless.

Only when it was over did he touch me. He laid a hand on my belly. My muscles jumped under his touch. He looked down at me as my body calmed.

‘That was beautiful,’ he said softly.

When I reached for him this time, he didn’t hold back. He crawled between my legs and, before the last of my orgasm faded away, he was slipping inside me. We both sighed in appreciation at the snug sweet fit. We were perfect for each other. I told him this. He brushed my hair away from my forehead and kissed my nose.

Then he started to move, and I was lost in the thrill of it. My arms wrapped around his neck. My legs wrapped around his hips. I knew he wanted it faster, but he held back until I was begging underneath him, pleading and bucking into him. Only then did he reward me with the first hard thrust, the one that took my breath away and lit a raging fire that demanded we not make love. It demanded a good hard fuck.

‘Take what is yours,’ I said to him.

Tom paused and looked down at me. The light of anger suddenly flashed in his eyes, and I knew he had crossed a very important hurdle. His confidence in my love had been restored – now he needed to restore other things, too.

That next thrust rocked the bed. The thrust after that was hard enough to send a small shaft of pain through my spine, hard enough to make the bed squeak with the effort. Soon Tom had set up a rhythm that made the bed sing. The rails squeaked. The headboard thumped against the wall. The bolts protested. The mattress itself bounced with the effort. I wrapped myself around him and closed my eyes, taking in every ounce of power as he rammed into me.

It wasn’t punishment, and it wasn’t desperate. It was a reclaiming.

Tom came with a shout. The force of his orgasm was such that he struggled to keep from collapsing on top of me. It seemed to last forever, so much longer than any other I had watched him have. He called out until he was out of breath, thrust until he was out of power, and then fell to the bed beside me, leaving a slick trail of wetness across my thigh.

Somehow I had expected a discussion afterwards, talk about what we had done, a conversation about what would happen from this point on, and how it would all be different. But, as Tom fell asleep beside me without saying another word, I realized that there was no need for words, not right now. There was no hurry. The wounds would heal in time, and we had all the time in the world.

I touched his face. He smiled in his sleep.