Chapter 43 Never
Everett
Pushing the door open, I set the food, coffee, and newspaper I found on the doorstep this morning on the table and then close the door. A sharp pain shoots down my arm and catches my breath.
Fuck, it hurts.
Checking the time on my phone, it’s a little after eight, and according to the notification from my calendar, I need to be at the training facility by ten. I consider taking some more ibuprofen, but I figure I should wait and ask the doctor.
I remove my shoes by the door, then pick up the breakfast, moving across the apartment. I’m halfway to the kitchen when the door to the bedroom swings open, revealing Claire.
“Morning, Sugar.” I smile. “I got us some food and—”
She takes a step toward me but doesn’t say anything. Her face is flush, her eyes red and swollen like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, setting everything down on the coffee table and moving to where she stands.
“You weren’t here,” she says, her voice shaking as tears stream down her cheeks. In one more large stride, I make it to her and wrap her up in my arms. She collapses into me, and her whole body begins to shake as she cries. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“You could never lose me.” My hands rub along her spine, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I thought I could make it back before you woke up, and then the line at the bagel place was out the door. I tried to call—”
“But you didn’t have my number.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that my shirt?”
“When you weren’t here, I dug out and put it on hoping it would smell like you, but it didn’t.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
She takes a few deep breaths and leans back so that she can see me. “How did you know it was real?”
“I just did.”
“What do you mean?”
Running my hands through her hair, I gently cup her face. “Claire, I’d love you in every realm. In every world. In every version of our story. It doesn’t matter where we are, I will never stop loving you.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
My mouth finds hers and I pick her up, attempting to swallow down a groan as pain radiates down my arm, but I fail.
“What’s wrong?” she says, pulling back.
“It’s just my shoulder, but it’s okay,” I say, trying to kiss her again.
“No, put me down,” she protests. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She wiggles out of my arms. Gently, she runs her hand over the sore joint.
“We don’t have to do this if it’s painful.”
“But I really want to make love to you,” I say, bending forward to kiss her. “I feel like getting back to New York deserves a little celebration.”
“Okay,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Then I can be gentle.”
She leads me back into her bedroom, slowly walking us to the bed.
“Lay down,” she says, patting the mattress. “I have an idea.”
She turns and walks toward her bathroom, disappearing inside for a few moments. When she returns, she’s holding a bottle of lotion.
“Would a massage help it feel better?”
I nod and carefully remove my shirt.
She climbs in next to me and lathers a little of the sweet smelling cream into her hands.
Straddling my waist, the hem of the T-shirt gathers at her hips, revealing her lace thong.
“Look at you,” I say, in awe of her, my hands running up her thighs. “You’re perfect.”
A small smile ghosts her lips, and she places her hands on my bare chest, working them up and over my shoulders and then down my arms.
“Did that hurt?” she asks.
“No.”
“Good. If it does, let me know and I’ll stop.” She repeats the same motion, but this time her hips grind forward against my growing erection.
“Move like that again and I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait much longer.”
Mischief sparkles behind her blue eyes as she lets out a melodic laugh and repeats the motion, moving her hands across my body and rotating her hips again, but this time with more purpose like it’s getting her off too.
My whole body heats as she works me, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything as hot or as tender as this.
Biting her lower lip, she thrusts her hips forward again, and the feeling is agonizing.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. “I need you.”
Moving off me, she grips the waistband of my sweatpants and boxer briefs, moving them down and over my hips.
My cock springs free, and her hand finds my length. Gently, she runs her palm over the sensitive skin, and my whole body shudders under her touch.
“I need to touch you,” I pant.
Her thumb runs over the head, playing with the studs of my piercing.
“Claire,” I beg. “I’m so fucking desperate for you. Please let me touch you.”
She lets go, and I immediately miss her touch. She quickly removes her underwear, then crawls back up to straddle me again.
With my cock lined at her center, she slowly moves me through her wet slit but doesn’t push me inside, moaning as I graze against her clit.
There is nothing chaste or hurried about what we’re doing. It’s purely intimate. Her eyes find mine for a split second and then dip to where we’re touching.
“Do you like this,” she asks, breathless and slowly continuing to tease her pussy with my cock.
“You have no idea,” I say, not pulling my eyes from where we’re joined. She’s drenched just from this, and the desire to fill her barrels through me.
“Make love to me,” I say.
Lifting her hips slightly, she lines me up again and then slides down my length until she’s taken all of me. Her head lolls back, and a loud moan leaves her as she stretches around me.
Tenderly, we begin to move against one another in perfect sync, but she feels too far away.
Sitting up, I move her legs so that they’re around my back. Her hands find the back of my head, running through my hair, and my arms hold her close.
We don’t even feel like two people anymore, so connected that we might as well be one.
“I love you,” she murmurs between kisses.
“I love you too.”
Her movements become more rushed as she chases her release. Our mouths continue to tangle as she moves up and down on my shaft. I do my best to match her pace and tilt my hips just right.
“Fuck…I’m going to…ah…” She pants. “Come with me.”
Tension coils at the base of my spine, and her pussy flutters around me as we both fall, moaning into each other’s kiss.
The feeling is euphoric, and I know at this moment that whatever happens now that we’re back, with my shoulder or my career, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how much we love one another, and nothing can go wrong as long as we have each other.
Rolling out of bed, we both move to get cleaned up, and I accidentally knock my phone on to the floor and under the bed.
“Dammit,” I call out, dropping to the floor to pick it up.
“What happened?” she asks, walking to meet me.
“My phone slid under the bed,” I explain, pushing my good arm under the frame, but the space between it and the floor is small.
My face is scrunched up against the hard surface of the bed, and my bare ass is pushed up into the air while I continue to search.
I can’t see what I’m reaching for. “Fuck.”
She begins to giggle. “That’s quite the position you’re in.” She cocks her head to the side as I look up toward her. “Do you need help?”
“No, I think…”
My fingers brush up against something hard, and I shove my arm forward as far as I can, gripping the object and pulling it out.
“Shit,” I say, staring at the little blue rock I’m holding. “This isn’t even my phone.”
“What is that?” Claire asks from above me. Handing it to her, I shove the same arm back under the bed. My hand finds something hard again, and I grip it.
“Got it!” I pull my phone out and pop up to meet Claire, but her eyes are locked on the blue stone. “You good?”
“This is apatite,” she says, running her hands over it.
“Huh?” I say, standing to meet her.
“How long do you think it’s been under there?” she asks.
“No idea,” I say, taking it from her and placing it on the nightstand. “I thought we decided those stones were bullshit.”
“Hmm…yeah…maybe.”
We both get cleaned up and walk into the living room. Sitting on the couch, her eyes land on the newspaper. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it was on the doormat when I got back this morning. Figured I’d bring it in.”
“Like right outside my door?”
“Mmhmm,” I say, unwrapping my bagel.
“That’s weird,” she says, grabbing it. “I don’t get the paper.” She slowly unfolds it, and a smile erupts across her face.
“What is it?” I ask around a bite of food.
“Just the Sugarplum Daily News,” she says, turning it to face me. On the front page is a photo of me, her, and Lolly, and the headline reads “Lolly Levine Takes The Christmas Cup.”
Moving to sit next to her, we scan each page of the paper and find every photo we took at the Extravaganza.
Tears form in Claire’s eyes. “I’m really glad it was real.”
“Me too, Sugar.”
Bending over, I place a kiss on her forehead, happy to be back in New York with the girl of my dreams.