Where You Can Find Me by Fiona Cole

36

“Well,look who decided to show up for family brunch,” Evie called from her seat at the table.

“I’ve been a little busy,” I explained with a scowl.

“What? Were you in a coma or something?”

I snorted and walked right into her arms for a hug. “Bitch,” I muttered.

“Love you, too. And look at you,” she exclaimed. “Hugging like a boss. Damn, girl!”

I flipped my hair like a diva before turning to face the other side of the table. Jameson stood back, full of hesitance. Through the months, he’d stopped hugging me, and when we did, it was stilted and quick.

But that was before.

Without hesitation, I rounded the table chairs and slid my arms around my brother’s back, resting my cheek against his solid chest that always got me through thick and thin. His heart thudded like a racehorse, and slowly he engulfed me just as tightly as I clung to him. Closing my eyes, I lived in this moment—relishing this win. I could hug my brother and not flinch away anymore.

“I love you, Lu.”

“Love you too, Jamie-boy.”

His groan rumbled in his chest, and I pulled back in time to watch his eyes roll to glare at Evie, who merely winked.

“What?” she asked innocently. “It’s a good nickname.”

“I hate you two,” he grumbled.

“You love us,” I taunted, prodding his ribs.

He jerked away with a glare before giving Jack a manly back pat greeting.

Happiness bubbled to the surface as I looked around the familiar bar. All the tables had their chairs stacked on top, except the one we sat at almost every weekend to catch up with our hodge-podge family.

I’d avoided it for so long because I hated watching the wariness in Jameson’s eyes. I hated the pain that darkened his eyes when I curled in on myself to avoid contact with anyone. It’d been easier to just stay away. But each week with Susan—especially the ones with Jack—I improved a little more.

“So, things are going well with you and Jack?” Evie asked. She waggled her brows, letting me know what she was really asking. Jack had left for a meeting once we finished lunch, with the promise to come by later tonight, and Jameson went back to the office to do paperwork, leaving just us girls.

“You know they are.”

“Yeah, but you’re so stingy with the details,” she sighed dramatically.

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed, remembering the blow-by-blow recap of me going down on Jack in his office while he took a phone call.

“Have you slept together yet?”

I shook my head.

It’d been a couple weeks since the first time in the care and since then, we’d done almost everything except sleep together, slowly figuring out how to navigate this new path after our trauma. I wasn’t sure we’d ever be like before, but I’d learned to find joy in discovering each other all over again.

“Do you want to?”

“God, yes.”

“Then hop on it. Literally.”

I laughed. Only Evie could bring lightness to something that weighed so heavily on me. Of course, since it had to do with sex, she was always up for conversation—never shying away, no matter how difficult the topic was.

Which was why when I got home later that night, after Jack and I had dinner, I found myself running upstairs, dialing her number before I even got to my room.

“Hey, bitch. What’s up?”

“Jack is here,” I whispered.

“Okaaaaaay,” she said slowly, before whispering, “I mean, okay.”

“What do I do?”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“Evelyn,” I grumbled as much as I could when we still spoke in whispers. “That’s not what I mean.” There was a long pause. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to mentally catch up and understand why we’re whispering.”

“Because I told him I had to grab something, and I don’t want him to know I’m calling you, but I don’t know what to do. He was about to leave, and I didn’t want him to.”

“Then ask him to stay.”

She made it sound so simple.

“Stop chewing on your lip.”

“I’m not,” I sulked, releasing my bottom lip from my teeth.

“Liar.” Her deep breath reached through the line, and I braced myself for some honesty. “Listen, Luella. Just because he stays doesn’t mean you have to do anything, but like you said, you want to, so why not. Does he want to?” she asked, ending the whisper to use her serious voice.

“Yeah, of course. We both want to.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because…because what if I freak-out. It’s not that I’m scared of sex. I’m scared of the possibility of freaking out.”

“Then you stop and talk to him about it. You’ve worked so hard to get here and not just to have sex, but how to handle it if things don’t go as planned. It’s okay to freak-out—it’s okay to backtrack—as long as you don’t stay there. Pick yourself back up and keep on going.”

Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes, and I blinked to hold them off. I didn’t want to go back downstairs all blotchy. That would definitely ruin the night. “Have you been talking to Susan?” I asked jokingly, trying to lighten the moment.

“I don’t want to shock you with this, but I can read,” she deadpanned

“Can you? I’m so proud of you,” I joked.

“I was mostly born this awesome, but a few books have helped me lock it in place. But seriously, if you want him to stay, ask him to stay. It doesn’t mean you have to do more than just have him in your house. He can stay in the guest room, or he can sleep on the floor, or he can lay in bed with a pillow between you guys. Ooorrrr you get naked and fuck like rabbits until dawn and wake up a new woman. The possibilities are endless, but you two are strong enough to handle whatever happens.”

“Yeah,” I said on an exhale, letting her words sink in and releasing the fear. “I can do this.”

“You’re damn right, you can. Then call me and tell me everything. Maybe send a dick-pic.”

I choked a laugh, dashing away a few stray tears. I promise to call in the morning. Or if I have another freak-out and need your advice.”

“I’ll talk to you in the morning,” she said with confidence. “Go get you some, bitch.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hung up the phone and met the gaze of the woman in the mirror. She wasn’t the same as the one who stood there a year ago, but maybe she was better—stronger. With a deep breath, I headed downstairs.

“Hey, sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Jack looked me over, and thankfully, didn’t mention that I hadn’t actually gotten anything from upstairs. “I should probably get going,” he said, rising from the couch.

“Don’t,” I almost shouted.

He’d taken one step and froze, his brows popping up in question.

“I mean, you don’t have to. You know, if you wanted to—want to stay. The night. Until morning.”

I clenched my hands at my side to keep from slapping them over my mouth to make the rambling stop.

His face softened along with his posture. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. And I have some of your stuff still here from before, so it’s not like you have to run home. Unless you want to run home. Or maybe you don’t want to stay over yet, which is totally fine, and I completely understand.”

“Luella,” he said softly, laughing. Taking pity on me, he closed the gap between us and rested his hands on my shoulders before soothing down my arms to my hands. “I’d be happy to stay. However you want me to.”

Biting my lip, I thought over our options. I could have him sleep in a guest room, but that wasn’t why I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to stay so I could be close to him—to be with him.

“There’s no pressure, and I can leave in the middle of the night if it comes to that.” His thumb came up to tug my lip free and then to brush back and forth across the swollen flesh. “Whatever you need.”

“I want you with me. I’m not ready to say goodnight,” I said before pressing my lips to his thumb.

His fingers slid into my hair, cradling my skull. “Then I’m with you.”

Tightness squeezed my chest, but it had more to do with the excitement swelling too big rather than my nerves pressing in. Keeping his hand in mine, I turned off the lights and led him up the stairs to my room. We got ready in silence with smiling glances and brief, teasing touches. By the time I climbed in bed, every inch of my skin pricked with awareness.

I pulled the sheets to my chest and watched him move to the other side and strip out of his shirt, leaving him in a pair of sleep pants. My mouth watered, and I must have moaned because he looked to me, still clutching his shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked.

I could only nod in fear that my lips would part and a breathy plea for more would fall out. We’d fooled around but mostly clothed. How long had it been since I’d seen the defined lines of his abdomen? How long had it been since I’d drooled over the deep grooves bracketing his waist?

God, he was beautiful.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the floor or anything?”

“No. I want you here, and I trust us enough to face anything that may come up.” Although I was damn near positive that nothing would come up. More and more, the anxiety of being on edge, anticipating every touch faded, leaving behind the growing urge to just be as close to him as possible. Wariness vanished, leaving the need to be in his arms—the place I felt the safest.

With a smile, he climbed in, making sure to stay on his side of the bed once he turned off the lights.

As soon as he settled on his pillow, I worked on closing the distance. As if on cue, his arm lifted, creating a spot for me to curl into him. I settled into the solid warmth of his chest, my body relaxing more than it had in months—like it’d been waiting to be welcomed home—and now that I had found the spot, I never wanted to leave.

I expected our skin to touch in a bed and ignite into an inferno that left us tearing at each other’s clothes, but instead, I listened to the beat of his heart, focused on the soft stroke of his fingers along the edge of my tank top along my shoulder, and fell asleep.

One of my biggest fears had been that a nightmare would hit me in the middle of the night, and waking up disoriented, encompassed in a man’s arms would send me spiraling, but I slept better than I had in a long time. The nightmares stopped weeks ago but occasionally crept back in, but with Jack holding me, not one dared enter our space.

So, when the light bled through the blinds and beckoned me to open my eyes, I only stiffened for a moment when I felt the heavy weight of an arm around my waist. Then I remembered who held me close, and instead of jerking away, I scooted back and linked my fingers with his resting on my stomach.

As if on cue, his breathing changed when my back made contact with his front. His hand tightened and tugged me closer, pressing me against the growing bulge. Hot breath stroked along my neck before his nose followed its path. “Is this okay?”

Unlike the calm relaxation I experienced in his arms last night, my heart thundered harder in my chest like a hoard of galloping horses. My core clenched around the ache blooming. I pushed my ass back and rolled my hips. “More than okay.”

His chest rumbled against my back a moment before wet lips landed just behind my ear, working their way down my neck to my shoulder. I arched, giving him more access to every inch of me, rolling my hips harder.

“Jack,” I gasped.

“I’m right here. Just me.”

It was all I needed.

I pushed his hand to the edge of my shorts and waited for him to take the lead. Not missing a beat, he dove under the material and crept his way between my thighs. “You’re wet, baby,” he growled, slipping a finger between my folds.

I sucked in hard when he slid past my clit and played at my opening, only to shift back up and circle my nub. My eyes slid closed, and I reached back, gripping his ass, desperate to hold on to something as pleasure roared through me. The bliss almost overwhelmed me with how big and how quick it took over—like a tsunami.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Rock against me.”

My hips had a mind of their own, both terrified of the quick, consuming bliss and eagerly racing toward it. He pinched and rolled the bundle of nerves, and my jaw dropped, a cry of shocked excitement swallowing me. It was quick and brutal and raced through my veins, leaving me high and still flooded with need.

Instead of satisfying me and leaving me wrecked, I craved more. Rolling to face him, I held his face and attacked his mouth with my own, needing to feed him my desperation in the hopes it would fuel him too.

But I shouldn’t have bothered because he met me with his own cravings and urgency. We moved quickly with halting movements. Always a slight pause before the next step to give the other room to stop. He gripped my hips, his muscles flexed and ready to act, but waited a moment to allow me to object. When I didn’t, he snapped back into action, rolling me on top of him, guiding me to straddle his lap.

My pussy lined up perfectly with his hard cock, and I cried out, breaking the kiss. Hands on my hips, he slid me back and forth while I looked down at him with heavy eyes. This—this was what I had missed. His head on my pillow, his deep blue eyes darkening to stormy seas, his muscles flexing deliciously.

Hands gripped the edge of my shirt, paused, and then almost tore it from my body in their urgency to get it off.

“Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, watching my breasts bounce free and harden to the cold air. He lunged up and latched on to a hard tip, flicking it with his tongue before sucking and nipping.

“Please, Jack. I need you,” I begged.

“How do you need me, baby?” he asked, looking up with his delicious smirk. He flicked my nipple and used his other hand to roll the other tip between his fingers, torturing me. “Tell me.”

I whimpered; the sight almost more erotic than the feeling—almost.

“I need you inside me.”

“You need me to make love to your pussy? Do you want my fat cock?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Say it, Luella. Give it to me.”

I gripped his face in my hands and made him meet my eyes—to see every ounce of need. “I want you to fuck my pussy.”

He bared his teeth like an animal barely holding back and wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me enough to jerk his pants down. His length sprung free, and if I hadn’t been so eager to feel him in me, I would have stopped to worship him with my mouth.

Later, I promised myself.

I stripped my shorts off and moved back in place, sliding my wet slit up and down his dick. His rough hands gripped my hips hard, and it only served to send more wetness to my core.

These were the moments I feared most. Jack and I had liked to play—to be rough, and those were the times I was terrified would open me up to other memories of being hurt, but not in a good way. But sitting astride him, watching the man stretched out for my pleasure, I only saw him—I only felt him. Nothing else existed in this room but us and this moment.

“Put me inside you,” he ordered.

With trembling hands, I rose up and gripped his length, sliding the head back and forth past my opening.

“Luella,” he warned through clenched teeth.

I gave him a smirk of my own and inched down only to pull back and slide him back and forth again.

He squeezed my hips tighter, and his abs rippled when he leaned up halfway. “Sit. On. My. Cock. Now.”

I held him steady and slid down inch by inch, agonizingly slow. My heart raced with excitement while my lungs screamed for air. I held my breath, almost anticipating this to be the final straw that sends me flying into a nightmare, but once Jack finally filled me—stretched me to the max—nothing by familiar need stoked the flames higher. Sucking in a deep breath, I slid back up and back down.

Falling forward, I rested my hands on his chest, moving faster, wanting to laugh and cry all at once with the swarm of pleasure and victory surging through me.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “A fucking queen, owning her pleasure—taking it.”

I rode him harder, imagining what he saw—an empowered woman taking control—and loved it.

His hands slid up and down my thighs, meeting me thrust for thrust. I switched my pace between hard, relentless riding and languid rocking, wanting to drag the pleasure on forever.

He pulled me down and sucked on my breasts, kissing any part of me he could reach. Our bodies in the morning sun, damp with sweat. I could have stayed there forever until he dropped his thumb where he stretched me and moved back up to swipe across my clit. My hips jerked, and any semblance of slowing down vanished.

“Yes,” I cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck me harder,” he ordered. “Fuck, I love watching your tits bounce. So perfect.”

His thumb moved harder as he lunged up and latched on to my nipple. I wrapped my arms around his neck and dug my finger into his hair, clinging to him as my lifeline as I raced toward my orgasm.

“Do it, Lu. Come for me. Come on my cock.”

A hard bite and tug on my nipple. A deep thrust deeper than before. A quick, circling pressure on my clit, and I was gone. My mouth fell open with a soundless scream, my body exploding into a million pulsing fragments. Nothing existed beyond the waves of pleasure washing over me—removing everything from before and leaving me as I was now—a queen in her lover’s arms.

Pleasured moans pierced my bubble, and I realized that it was me—the sound erotic and the perfect match to Jack’s deep groans and grunts.

“Coming. I’m coming.”

As if I only came down from my high to grab his hand and take him with me, I held him close, and my orgasm bled into another, matching his. We moved as one—our bodies in sync—a perfect match. We slowed our movements until finally stopping, pressing our foreheads together, sharing our gasping breaths.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you too.”

We collapsed to the side, laughing at the inelegance of our fall but too tired to make it any more graceful. I moaned when he slid out of me, already missing him and planning to get him inside me again. He rolled from the bed and came back with a wet washcloth, holding my gaze as he swiped between my legs. Part of me wanted to stop him—wanting to feel his cum stick between my thighs so I could remember him there for the rest of the day.

Next time.

Because there would be a next time.

And a time after that.

And a time after that.

“We’ll have to do more sleepovers if this is how we wake up,” he joked.

“I may never let you leave.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“So, it’s settled. You’re moving in.”

It started as a joke but carried a very real question in it.

He stroked my hair back behind my ear and pecked my lips. “I’m wherever you need me.”

Sliding my hand over his, I pressed it to my cheek. “Let’s have a few more sleepovers, but I think I want you here. Always.”

“Then here is where you can find me.”