Page 38 of Phoenix
“Perhaps it was just too soon,” she suggests; she’s probably right. “They never found him, did they?”
“I see him sometimes,” I admit as I look at the waves rolling onto the shore, “in the shadows, hiding, and waiting for me.”
“Does it scare you?”
“All the time,” I reply honestly, “but not since I came here. My mind seems to have left him back at my childhood house.”
“That makes sense, Jess.”
“Do you think it’s because of Warren?”
“Not entirely,” she says with a contented sigh, “you’re not in control here, someone else is. In your mind, your fear doesn’t work here. It’s no longer the thing keeping the monsters at bay because you’ve relinquished that control to someone else, so they are keeping him away. Does that make sense?”
“A little,” I agree.
“I think you’ve scored yourself another rock,” she says with a wink, then looks down to where I thought my hand was resting on the arm of the chair. But when I look there myself, I see it isn’t the chair at all, it’s a warm, furry ear belonging to one dopey-looking dog with warm brown eyes and an understanding expression on her face. I reward her softness with a proper rub behind her ear which encourages her to moan with appreciation. I guess, she’s right, the lovable hound has won me over.
“You’ve also got someone to talk to whenever you want, Jess,” she says and I release a sob of happiness, or at least something close to it. “I mean it.”
____
Something changes after that day and I become someone else, someone happy. I let Warren push my boundaries with each passing day. We talk, we laugh, we go out further and further on his bike, we kiss, and we make love. I ease his pain when he dreams of his mother, and he holds me tight at night, so I know I’m safe. The wall of a man covered in tattoos, who was once an assassin hired to kill me, has become my white knight. And the girl who was lost, living in terror, and who wouldn’t venture outside of her own front door, has become his.
So, here we are, lying lazily on a blanket out in the wide-open space, having just made love out in the fresh air, falling into mindless bliss with one another. But even after a week of talking about everything and nothing, I still want to know so much more.
“Who was the song about?” I ask, suddenly remembering his beautiful playing.
“What song?” he replies lazily as he casts his arm over his eyes. He’s lying fully naked beneath the tree we just made love under. He smiles every now and then as I continue to trace my finger over his tattoos, which has fast become one of my favorite pastimes.
“The only one you’ve ever sung in front of me,” I answer sassily at the same time as poking him for being deliberately obtuse.
“My mom,” he eventually replies; his answer makes the lyrics all the sadder. “The school counselor knew I was ok with a guitar so encouraged me to use it as an outlet. “I only wrote the one song. I guess that was painful enough.”
“Ok?! You sound like you’re more than ok with a guitar.”
He laughs as he takes hold of me and pulls me over him so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He begins delivering kisses to my exposed skin, his engorged length rubbing so deliciously against me.
“You don’t tan, do you?” he mutters, teasing me and then laughing when I shake my head with a goofy smile. I love flirting with him like this, it makes me feel so…normal and care-free. It does the impossible; it makes me forget I ever had the past that I did.
“You saw where I lived, and besides,” I tell him with a now serious expression, “Jake and I weren’t allowed outside all that much.”
He strokes my arm with a sympathetic expression, one that makes me want to shake the sudden change in atmosphere away. I don’t want to be sad anymore, I want to stay happy with him in my arms. I lean down and begin to kiss him, turning it lustful and urgent within seconds. His hands reach for my face to pull me in closer.
“You’re in charge, Jess,” he whispers between kisses, “fuck me like you want to.”
I smile as I shimmy down to rub myself the way I want to along his hardness, making me wet and wanting for him. He flips me over so I am sitting right on top of him, watching him, watching me, and I feel so confident. More confident than I ever have been before. His hands reach up for my breasts, but I push them down before he can even touch them. He feigns shock before smiling again.
“You said I was in charge,” I whisper as I pull up my skirt and slide slowly on top of him. The sensation has me gasping for the rush and the need to lose myself in him. He bites his lip as he leans back and waits, being so patient for what it is I need to do. Even when I sit here not moving or saying anything, just feeling the connection between us, he says nothing.
“I want...” I tell him as I begin to circle my hips on top of him, causing his mouth to drop open in what looks like rapture. I know; I feel it too.
“You want…?” he gasps.
“I want a life…” I tell him as I begin to move on top of him, picking up speed and intensity.
“Yes…?” he encourages me as his hips begin to circle against mine too.
“…with you!”