Where You Can Find Me by Fiona Cole

35

“Now,hold each other’s eyes until you hear the ring of the bell. Let your emotions for one another speak in the silence. Go with the emotions and read the other’s cues. And always remember you can stop at any time.”

My chest rose and fell with the soft rhythm of my breath, and I met Jack’s deep, blue eyes. They swirled like the stormy seas in a hurricane, and they churned something deep within me. Something that had been brewing since the first appointment we started almost a month ago.

Each one progressed a little bit further than the last.

One where we sat on opposite sides of the couch, trying to find comfort to speak openly.

One where we sat closer and started with laughter and needing with my hand firmly clenched in his.

Another when we sat side-by-side and relived our worst nightmare with whispers and tears in both our eyes. Despite the topic, we clung to each other and found comfort in each other’s arms. A victory I focused on.

The next, we found our rhythm without the past hovering like a cloud waiting to burst. It still lingered in the background, but we’d relieved the pressure and forged our own path toward a light at the end of the tunnel.

This week we pushed on, testing boundaries and searching for an intimacy we both desperately missed.

I matched my breathing to his, slow and steady, focusing on the togetherness of the moment. A mediation together. He was mine, and I was his, and nothing else mattered but that—right here and right now.

Susan ceased to exist in the room, leaving Jack and me. His eyes grew heavy, and need darkened the turbulent blue with desire. I wondered if he saw the same shift in me, the grassy green of my eyes darkening to the deepest emerald.

His hand shifted, causing a hiccup in my even breaths—not from hesitation or fear but from excitement. I wanted him to touch me. I almost grabbed his hand and placed it on me in my impatience—almost threw myself in his lap and begged him for it.

Finally, the rough pads of his fingertips connected with my bare knee, and I praised my past self for wearing a dress to today’s appointment. He started with steady small circles that slowly grew, encroaching onto my thigh.

I could only imagine what he found in my gaze because his lips barely tipped on one side before creeping further from my knee—barely an inch higher, and nothing had felt more erotic. His other hand came into view in a move more familiar than my own to tuck the ever-loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered against my cheek, and I leaned in like a cat searching for a pet.

Losing myself in the sensations, my eyes slid closed.

“Don’t close your eyes. Focus on Jack,” Susan reminded, her words barely penetrating the bubble we’d formed.

We locked eyes again, and his hand crept higher, causing a hitch in my breath. He hesitated a moment before beginning a retreat—the very last thing I wanted.

I slapped my hand over his, pressing his palm flat to my flesh. His eyes flared, and I read his cues as much as he needed to read mine—we both wanted more. With a smirk of my own, I slid our hands higher until the edge of my dress tickled my wrist—and then I pushed higher.

His long fingers stretched under the material, hidden from view but wreaking havoc through my body. Desperate heat flooded my core like I hadn’t felt since the last time we’d made love. He was still too far from where I craved him, but the teasing grazes had me panting, my breath erratic and loud in the quiet room.

“Jack,” I whispered, pleading for anything—everything. Pleading with him to make it better—to make the ache go away—to make me ache more.

Time stood still, and the tension grew like air in a balloon—more and more until I knew any second it would explode.

“Very good,” Susan’s strong voice pierced the balloon, breaking through the cloud of desire. “You guys have been making amazing progress. You should be proud.”

Jack cleared his throat and pulled his hand back, only serving to stoke the flames when he dragged his fingers down my flesh to rest on my knee, not losing the connection.

Susan talked a bit more but ended the session a couple minutes early. I wondered if she could feel the tension as intensely as I could. I wondered if she could read the pleading in my eyes to let us go, so I could be alone with this man.

Whatever the reason, I didn’t care. I was almost rude with my quick goodbyes and dragged Jack from the office. We rode the elevator down to the garage level and didn’t say a word the entire walk. His hand remained in mine, his thumb stroking softly across the skin between my thumb and finger—a torturous back and forth that left me on the brink of screaming to release some pressure building like a geyser inside me.

My heels clicked in the almost empty parking garage, and each sharp strike hit like a piercing throb.

“Luella,” Jack muttered, his voice deep and rough with matching desire.

As soon as we reached my car in the back corner, I whirled around and met his stare, letting every ounce of need bleed between the space between us. “I need you,” I begged.

His jaw ticked, and his hand tightened around mine. “How?” he asked through clenched teeth. Almost like he was holding back the throbbing need in him too.

I swallowed, trying to imagine each scenario, only managing to come up with a swirl of passion and heat. “I-I don’t know. I just-I—”

Taking in my flustered stuttering, he stepped close, cradling my cheek with his palm. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

With restrained, jerky movements, he opened the back door and gestured for me to climb in. I scooted across the seat until my back hit the other door, not once taking my eyes off of his large body folding itself in behind me. Rocking side-to-side, doing anything to ease the ache between my thighs, I awaited his instructions.

His eyes never left mine as he stroked my knee. Just like in the appointment, only now we didn’t have any reason to stop. The circles started slow but quickly grew into strokes up my leg and under my dress.

“I’m hungry, Lu,” he rumbled.

“Oh, god.”

“Can I eat your pretty pussy?”

I couldn’t answer, my body incapable of forcing words past the excitement. Instead, I bit my lip and nodded, lifting my leg. Jack readjusted to his knees and never looked away as he hunched over for his lips and tongue to follow the path his hand had just taken. Except his mouth didn’t stop halfway. It rose further and further until his nose brushed against my panties, inhaling my scent like a starved man.

“Fuck, I missed your pussy.”

His palm pushed my knee out gently and slid up. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Just say something, and we’ll pause and go from there.”

“I don’t want to stop. I want you.”

“I fucking need you, Luella.”

“Take me. I’m yours.”

“Always,” he growled.

A cool rush of air hit my wet folds when he tugged my panties aside, only to be replaced by rough heat. A cry ripped from my chest, and I jerked against his mouth when his tongue flicked across my clit.

“Jack,” I cried.

My hand shot to his hair, holding him in place as he circled and played with my clit while his finger played at my opening. He never went far, and I wanted to growl like an animal for him to fill me. I looked down my body to find devious eyes smirking back up at me, his mouth covering my mound.

The vision was crude—pornographic. It was beautiful.

“Want something?” he taunted between sucking each of my folds into his mouth.

“I want you inside me,” I gritted through clenched teeth.

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Jack, I swear to G—ohhh.”

Two fingers easily slid deep, slowly twisting and pulling, matching the rhythm of his mouth.

Heat swelled in waves, growing and growing until I was sure I wouldn’t survive it. Any time uncertainty hit me—any time I became lost in the feel of him—any time I feared the shadows would come crawling out at any moment, I only had to look down my body to find his eyes staring back at me. My anchor through the storm.

Only this was the most beautiful storm we’d had in a while.

Needing more and wanting to torture him, I tugged aside the bodice of my wrap dress and bra, baring my breasts. If I thought the image had been lewd before, it was nothing compared to my nipples hardening to tight, tender peaks, to watching his eyes flare as he watched me tug and pull at the tips. It was nothing compared to the way I rocked my hips against his face, fucking his fingers deeper inside me.

It was nothing compared to the way he groaned and lost himself in as much pleasure that swept me away, lapping up all my cum as my orgasm unraveled me from the inside out.

Sweat coated my body, my breaths sawing hard past my dry mouth, my legs tensing over each lingering spasm of my orgasm. He lapped at my folds, over my opening, pushing in for every last drop. He even dropped lower, pressing between my cheeks as if he couldn’t get enough.

Taking his wet fingers, he slowly moved them over my breast, waiting for any hesitation from me. My body was spent, my mind lost to him and only him.

At least, I thought my body was spent. When his fingers, wet from my cum, gently flicked and twisted my nipple, sparks shot off all over again.

Still needing more—feeling it like a beast growing inside of me, but not wanting to make love to him for the first time in the back seat of my car—I decided to give him something in return. Sitting up, I pushed him back, keeping my eyes open and focused as I lapped at his lips and bit his chin, tasting myself from his lips.

I kept pushing until he was the one leaning against the car door, sprawled for the taking. Leaving my tits out, feeling empowered by the way he sat under me, entranced by my body, I focused on unbuckling his pants. He lifted up to help me tug them down past his ass, giving me enough room to free his long, hard cock. I relished the soft skin over hard steel under my palm, missed the way his mouth fell open over a groan when I swiped my thumb across his slit.

Getting lost in the moment, I dropped my mouth to his head and didn’t stop until he hit the back of my throat before sucking all the way back up.

But somewhere between his pleasured moans over my touch and when I looked away, Jack stiffened, holding me back from dropping back down again. At first, I thought he didn’t want to push me to do more than I was ready for, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I looked up, expecting a playful smile in return, and instead found him staring at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tight. His tendons strained at his neck, and his nostrils flared over shallow, uneven breaths.

“Jack?” I asked softly, but he didn’t respond. “Hey, look at me,” I pleaded. His eyes stayed closed, and he gave almost an imperceptible shake of his head. “Jack,” I said harder, realizing something was very wrong. Something I recognized all too well. “Look at me,” I ordered, doing my best to sound strong and not like I was pleading with him to not shut me out.

Slowly, his eyes opened, and he dropped his chin, meeting my gaze with a stormy one of his own. My chest ached at the pain I saw there—at the memories working their way through his mind. Shifting to the seat beside him, I gave him space while also holding his hand but giving him the chance to pull away.

“It’s okay. It’s me. It’s just me. Keep looking at me.”

His hand gripped mine tight but didn’t pull me closer. Like he had all those days and nights with me, I followed his lead.

Slowly, his breathing went back to normal, and his grip relaxed. Through it all, I sat with him, holding his stare, letting him know he wasn’t alone. Sometimes when we are lost in our own chaos, it’s hard to remember that others are suffering, too. While I’d struggled, I’d been too consumed to look outside myself to notice Jack struggled, too.

For a moment, guilt hit me, but I shoved it aside because, like Susan told me, guilt has no place here. I worked on myself to become strong. And now, I can be here for Jack as he struggled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t you dare,” I scolded. “You never once made me apologize. Don’t you dare think I would expect one from you.”

“Luella, what you went thr—”

“What we went through. We both faced a lot, and it’s not a tit-for-tat. We both endured, and we will both get through it. Together.”

“Together,” he promised.

We shifted our clothes back to normal but didn’t climb out of the back seat. Instead, we sat side by side, my head on his shoulder and his head on mine. We clung tight to each other’s hands and found comfort in the safe, warm body at our side.

Interestingly enough, Jack eating me out hadn’t been the most momentous new battle we conquered in the back seat of this car.

It was this moment right here—finding comfort and peace with each other—finding strength in the other and leaning on them rather than running or hiding.

I didn’t want to hide anymore.

I wanted to face it all and win.

And I wanted to do it with Jack by my side.