Screw the rules (Dylan)
Before the long, long night at the emergency room was over, I tried twice more to send Alex home. She refused to go. Instead, during the hours I was waiting for treatment, she lay curled up on the chair next to me, her head resting in my lap as she slept.
The last time we’d been like this, her sleeping next to me, was on a place a thousand years ago.
It was four in the morning before we finally got out of there. By that time, my hand was wrapped in a heavy cast, immobilizing the fingers. Two of my finger bones had been fractured, and the skin torn open on all of them. At one point, when Alex was out of the room, the doctor had suggested I come back to see a psychiatrist and possibly seek out some anger management classes.
“Look,” he said. “We see a lot of guys in your situation. You’ve been in combat. I’m guessing you’ve lost friends.”
I nodded confirmation.
“It’s not unusual to have long term emotional responses to this stuff. Combined with the brain injury, it could be a real problem for you.”
I sighed. “I was seeing a therapist at the VA in Atlanta, before I came up here for college.”
“I think you need to consider setting up an appointment here.”
“I already spend three mornings a week at the VA for physical therapy.”
“So one more won’t hurt.”
I nodded. “I suppose. I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said.
A moment later Alex returned, carrying two large cups of coffee, and the doctor changed the subject.
In the cab, after leaving the hospital, she said in a sleepy voice, “Just come back to my place for the night?”
I swallowed and took a deep breath, a flash of anxiety running through me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded. She was leaning against me, arms wrapped around my waist, as the cab cruised up the dark, nearly empty early morning streets.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t want you alone.” She breathed for a couple minutes, then said, “I don’t want to be alone.”
So the cab let us off in front of her dorm. She unlocked the door, and we took the stairs up. At the door to the room she shared with Kelly, she turned back to me and put her arms around me. “Just sleep, okay? I meant what I said, I’m not ready for… you know.”
“Of course,” I said.
“It’s all too new, and different, and confusing,” she said.
“Sleep is good,” I said. I was pretty fucking groggy at that point.
She smirked, then turned around and unlocked the door. She took my hand and pulled me in. We tiptoed, in case Kelly was there, but as promised, she hadn’t come back to the room. Good for her and Joel, I thought. I took a deep breath, looking at her. She looked back, her eyes wide and green and beautiful, and I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Is kissing you against the rules?”
“Screw the rules,” she said. She stepped closer to me, and I put my arms around her, holding the heavy damned cast slightly away from her body. Oh, God, it felt good to touch her. She was breathing quietly as she tilted her head back, and I leaned close, and our lips touched.
My eyes closed, and all my attention focused on where our lips touched, warm, welcoming. Hungry. Her arms came up around me, pressing hard against my back, and suddenly she was pressing her entire body against me. I could feel her breasts against my chest, her hips against mine, and I nearly gasped at the intensity of it. Her mouth opened, and our tongues came into contact with each other, and she let out a soft moan.
I let my knees bend, and lowered myself a few inches, then gripped her hard around the waist with my right arm and behind the knees with my left. Our lips never lost contact as I lifted her up and carried her toward the bed. Slowly, I sat down with her still in my arms. She twisted, then wrapped her legs around me.
My right hand trailed down her back and side to her thighs, then back up, and I breathed deeply, drinking her scent in. The smooth skin, the curve of her thigh, the sweet smell of her hair and face.
“Oh, my God, I’ve missed you, Dylan,” she said.
I shifted, bringing my mouth to her neck. She tilted her head back, exposing her entire neckline, and I slowly moved my lips along her jawline to just below her ear. I whispered, “I love you.”
At that, she put both hands to my chest and pushed, tilting me back onto the bed. I kicked off my shoes, and she straddled me, laying her chest against mine. She brought her lips to my neck, and I could feel her incredible hair against my lips. I felt her hands against my shirt buttons.
She let out a low chuckle.
“What?” I said.
“You know,” she said, her voice almost growling, “With this cast, you’re going to be practically helpless. I’ve finally got you under my control.”
“I can live with that,” I said, shivering.
She kept unbuttoning my shirt, working her way down slowly, licking my chest as she moved. I closed my eyes, arching my back a little, pushing closer to her. I gasped as she lightly bit one of my nipples, then let out a low groan as her tongue worked its way down my chest. My right hand lay uselessly at my side, encased in its cast, as the left one slowly traced the line of her back, her butt, her legs. I was light-headed; this was better than any drug I’d ever known.
We were both breathing heavily as I said, “I don’t ever want to be the voice of reason. But is this leading further than you intended?”
She nodded, her hair running across my chest, then she whispered, “I don’t care.”
I looked down my chest, then reached out with my left hand, taking her underneath her armpit and pulling her up to me until we were face to face. There was no way she didn’t know just how aroused I was, not in that thin little dress, with her legs wrapped around me. I took a deep breath, and said, “You wanted to wait. I don’t want to fuck this up by going too fast. Alex… you mean too much to me for that.”
She kissed me on the lips, her lips slow and deliberate, her tongue just touching my upper lip, then whispered, “Dylan, make love to me. It’s been at least twenty minutes since we got here. I’ve waited long enough, damn it.”
I chuckled, and then she laughed, and got up on her knees and slowly pulled her dress up over her head.
I won’t lie. I’d been fantasizing about this moment for three years. In our time in Israel, we’d done a lot of making out. A lot of breathless moments. But I’d never seen her without her clothes, and right at that moment, there was nothing in the world I would have traded for it. She had a fantastic body, curved, her breasts hidden behind a black lace bra that took my breath away. My heart was pounding. From excitement, from fear.
“You’ll have to do all the hard work,” I murmured. “You know, my hand….”
She grinned. “I think you’re taking advantage.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
She whispered, “I’m …not… um…”
Her face flushed red, and she leaned close to me. Oh, God. The feel of her skin against mine set me on fire.
“You’re not what?” I asked.
She buried her face against my neck. “I’ve never done this,” she whispered.
I took a deep breath. I’d suspected. She’d been a virgin when we met, of course, and if she’d had any lovers since, she’d kept them secret. Letting out my breath, I said, “We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”
My body so disagreed with what I had just said. I would be in a lot of pain if we stopped now, but pain is something I knew intimately anyway.
She whispered, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said. I looked her in the eyes. And her eyes were frightened, there was no question. “Alex… I love you. I’ll go where you lead me. I won’t ask for more.”
A tear ran down her face, and she said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
I gave her a half smile and said, “You’ve got that backwards, Alex. I’m the one who … who is undeserving.”
“Don’t ever say that,” she said.
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong, Dylan Paris. About this, you are so wrong. We were made for each other.”
I leaned close and kissed her forehead, and she curled up next to me. Before long, she’d fallen asleep, curled up against my left side, her head resting on my chest.
After she’d fallen asleep, I lay there a few more minutes. A tear ran down my own face. One, then another. I took a deep shuddering breath, knowing that somehow life had given me another chance. Somehow she had given me another chance. This time I couldn’t blow it. Awkwardly, with my cast hand, I pulled a blanket over us, and soon fell asleep.
This is first draft material from a new story I’m working on. I’d love to hear your feedback and thoughts on the story. You can find the beginning and contents of the story, here.