Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jules
Sleep won’t come, but I’m not mad about it, not while I’m lying next to Zander. Even in his dream-state, he holds me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever come across. Long possessive arms encompass my waist, and his hard body presses against my back.
It’s almost five a.m., which means he’s only had around two hours of uninterrupted sleep.
His nightmares are back with a vengeance, twisting his body into unnatural positions and ripping noises from his throat that sound more animalistic than human.
I held him through it, as I always do, whispering words of comfort and love, hoping it would be enough to bring him back.
But it never is. The only thing that could save him from his own mind is also the same thing that could tear us apart.
Once the gaps are filled and the memories are revived, what use am I?
I would lose the only person that I’ve ever wanted, the only person who truly sees and loves me for exactly who I am.
He often jokes that I know him better than he knows himself– he doesn’t even realise how true that is.
It’s how I justify the only secret I’ve ever kept from him.
Telling myself I’m doing the right thing, I’m protecting him from something he isn’t even aware of, because I know the damage it could cause, not only to him, but to us, too.
But when the nightmares come, and the physical pain is evident all over his usually peaceful face, I wonder if the truth would actually set him free.
I wonder if he would thank me for giving his tired mind the answers it’s forever reaching for.
I wish I could ask my Mom. She’s the only person who would know what to do, because she’s the only other person who knows what truths I’m holding.
What if the protection I’ve privately offered is actually the key he needs to lock the door he’s bolstered himself against for the last four years?
The mattress shifts behind me, warm air spreads along the back of my neck, accompanied by a low rumble.
“Sleep, Jules,” his words are slurred in the most adorable way, and his hair tickles my bare back.
“Mhhm.” Zander tugs at my shoulder, rolling me into him.
Like our bodies know what we need before we do, our mouths align.
Soft, sleepy lips move gently against mine in a lazy rhythm.
My body burns hot from his attention when he reaches between us and grasps my hip.
I’m pulled against his hard length, my own twitching in response as he loosely groans against my mouth.
He’s half asleep, yet his body still knows what it wants, grinding us together with unrestrained abandon.
“Zan…” His lust is building with every moment our lips are joined.
It’s apparent in the way his grip tightens, and his mouth presses into mine with a desire so intense it pushes me onto my back.
Large hands roam across my bare skin, kisses following close behind.
He’s everywhere– at my throat, my chest, the trail of hair leading down to my arousal…
“Zander… We–” His teeth graze my nipple before a short, sharp sting sends a jolt of pleasurable pain straight through me.
“Shhh, let me help you sleep,” I can feel the smirk in his voice; playful and challenging.
I cast a quick glance over to the hospital bed beside us.
He picks up on my hesitancy and draws back, rising to his feet and pulling me to follow.
We sneak through the house, bumping into furniture and tripping up the stairs before the momentum is lost and reality crashes back in.
We reach the bedroom, magnetising into each other and tumbling to the floor in a flurry of tangled limbs and unadulterated need.
“You need sleep too,” I counter his earlier argument. His hands breach the waistband of my shorts, teasing along the barrier.
“Bad dream… rather… be here,” he says between each kiss to my stomach while peeling the elastic band of my shorts away.
You could help with that, Jules. But could I?
Would he still wake up in the middle of the night to shower me with affection once he knows the truth?
My thoughts pull me out of the moment briefly, but he notices.
Even in the darkness, I can feel his dark brown eyes on me, questioningly.
“Can I?” He rubs the side of his face along the length of my covered erection. My answer comes in the form of an aching pulse against his cheek. He presses his mouth against me through my shorts, “Mmm, thank you.”
Those two words empty my brain completely. He actually wants to pleasure me so much that he’s thanking me for the opportunity? I’ve always thought of myself as the lucky one, grateful for every touch and kiss, but now it’s clear that he feels the same way, too.
The feel of his mouth covering my crown is otherworldly. Warm, wet, and so fucking soft. My sac tightens immediately. I need him like this, everywhere, all at once. He slides down my length, reaching three-quarters of the way before moving back up, his hand mimicking in slow, tight strokes.
“Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he whispers, swiping the excess drool from the corner of his mouth.
“It feels right, Zan.”
“Yeah, it does.” He takes me again, more confidently this time.
The pressure from the vacuum he’s created with his mouth elicits needy whimpers to spill from my lips, and precum to leak against his tongue.
An eager, slippery hand glides down to cup my tight balls, massaging and rolling, tugging and stroking.
I don’t think I’ll hold out much longer.
The sunlight starting to filter in gives me a glimpse of his slack jaw and muscled arm working me into a frenzy.
Zander opens his hand once more in preparation to cup me, when his finger lightly grazes the stretch of skin that leads to my most intimate hole.
The touch is accidental and barely there, but the possibilities it offers causes me to tremble and gasp with desperation.
“Was that good?” He’s breathless, sounding just as worked up as I feel.
I sink my teeth into my lip and nod my head.
I don’t trust my voice right now. Slowly, he runs his finger lower, the moisture dripping between my legs creating a smooth path.
He reaches my hole, teasing and rubbing his saliva around the opening.
My legs tremble, and my spine stiffens in pleasure and anticipation.
He pushes gently; the pressure alone makes my tip leak, and my legs spread wider.
He doesn’t breach my entrance; instead, he presses with his thumb and massages the outer muscle.
My hips push down, greedily seeking more pressure, knowing that if he slips inside, even the tiniest bit, I’ll explode into a thousand satisfied pieces beneath him.
Zander’s mouth finds my length again, working me with his lips and his hand simultaneously.
The flick of his tongue over my sensitive head trips me over the edge so unexpectedly that I can’t stop it, even though I want this pleasure to last forever.
“Zan, I’m going to come…” He doesn’t stop; if anything, it encourages him to work harder, faster. Panic and pleasure build inside. I don’t know the correct etiquette here. I’m about to blow my load, and he’s not pulling away.
“Zan… I can’t–” The tip of his thumb pushes past the barrier and slides inside just as my orgasm crests.
He doesn’t push further than the first knuckle, but the way he continues to massage my inner walls makes my release crash through me in violent waves.
The force of my orgasm causes Zander to gag and tighten around me, but he doesn’t stop; his determination pushes him to keep working me until my body goes limp with exhaustion beneath him.
Zander crawls up my body, planting tender kisses on his journey.
The rays of light beaming through the gaps in the curtains reflect off the muscles along his back, shifting and tensing below his skin.
The corner of his mouth tips up in a devilish smirk when he meets my eyes.
The white flash of teeth and swollen lips makes my softening erection attempt to come back to life; the sensitivity is almost painful.
“Hi,” he says bashfully, hovering above me. His dark hair hangs forward in the space between us. I push one side behind his ear, then the other, showcasing his beauty.
“Hey…” We both chuckle at the silence; it’s not awkward, it’s just…
new. Zander slides off my body, pressing a chaste kiss against my lips before settling beneath my arm.
Finally, sleep calls out to me, my eyes burn, and my body aches from the tension of our activities.
I roll my lips between my teeth in an attempt to savour the taste of his kiss, but the flavour coating them is unfamiliar and offensive to my expectations.
It’s bitter, with a subtle salty tang… Ohh–ewww!
“Zander!!” He jumps in my hold, whipping his head up. “Did you just kiss me after swallowing my… y’know?!” he chuckles at my horror, confirming what I suspected.
“Jules…”
“You know how I feel about new flavours…” It comes out as a whine, a pout following close behind. He pokes at my lips with a huffed laugh. He looks so happy and carefree. I’m not really mad at him–well, maybe a little annoyed–but the attention my tantrum is earning feels too good to waste.
“Aw, I’m sorry, baby...” We both freeze. The word hangs between us. For some reason, it feels like a bigger step than the one we’ve just taken. It’s a change on a whole other level. It’s the realisation of the shift from who we’ve always been to each other, to who we're turning into together.
“I–umm… kinda just slipped out,” he mumbles apologetically. I nudge his head with mine, capturing his eyes and linking my fingers between his.
“I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I do.” He relaxes against me, and sleep finally pulls me under.
Morning rolls around way too quickly, and it’s chaos from the moment my eyes open.
I’m sprawled out on the floor of our bedroom, completely alone.
There’s a hum of noise and life coming from downstairs.
I freshen up in the bathroom and slip on some clothes before making my way down, wondering where Zander is and what all the noise is about.
The living room is overflowing with activity and laughter, voices that are familiar but misplaced.
I avoid the anarchy and head for the kitchen.
I have the feeling I’ll need caffeine to deal with whatever is happening through there.
Zander’s busy flitting between the kettle and the oven, it’s the most domestically disorganised sight I’ve ever seen, making my eyes water with the strength of my love for him.
He spins around and finds me instantly, his face softening and a smile spreading across the lower half of his face.
“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty.”
“You should have woke me up…” Embarrassment flushes my cheeks.
“You needed the sleep. Besides, I wanted to see your Mom this morning and spend some time with her before the cavalry showed up.” Zander hands me a steaming mug of coffee, and our fingers brush on the exchange.
I swear it doesn’t matter where he’s touching me, or in what capacity, the butterflies still swarm low in my stomach.
“Who’s here?” I bring the cup to my lips, watching the steam rise to distract myself from looking too hard at Zander. He’s even more handsome when he’s flustered.
“Toby, Trixie, and a few of the regulars and their old ladies. They brought enough food to feed us for the next three months and wanted to check in.”
“That’s… weird, right? They don’t know her, why would they want to come and visit?”
“It’s sweet,” Zander corrects me, “They’re our friends, and friends show up.
You, of all people, should know this; you’ve always shown up for me.
” He makes his way across the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist. Placing the cup on the counter, I smooth my hands across his shoulders and just hold on.