Chapter 30
ALLYSON
His answer shocks me if I’m honest. No, that’s not it.
Bruce is a good man despite the roughness, as he calls it, and I knew he wouldn’t bolt on me. Even though everything I just told him . . . it’s a lot. To process, to carry, to understand, to accept. I don’t have any choice because it’s the reality I lived through. But Bruce could walk away.
I can see that thought never enters his mind, though. The vehemence with which he says that he belongs with Cooper and me makes that crystal clear, like he believes it with his whole being.
My heart soars, my chest filling with a heated happiness. But I have to be careful. For Bruce, for me, and most of all, for Cooper. This isn’t a decision to take lightly for either of us. The minute stretches with pregnant possibilities.
“Are you sure?” I steady my nerves, tapping my thigh with my fingers softly so maybe he won’t notice. “If it’s too much, I’d understand. I swear it.”
All my walls are down, and I don’t know if I can handle losing Bruce again.
Before, we were stupid kids, too inexperienced to have a hard conversation, and we lost each other and so many years, so much opportunity.
Now, we’re adults, and this conversation is heavy but not as weighed down as my heart is.
If I lose him now, I won’t ever be the same.
I know that with certainty. This will change me more than any of the stuff with Jeremy ever did.
Losing Bruce would break me.
I love him. I love him so much I exposed my most ugly, vulnerable parts trusting that he wouldn’t look away in disappointment even while expecting him to do just that.
Bruce tilts his head, his dark eyes boring into me. I feel so . . . seen. Not that I’m invisible most of the time. I’m not exactly a shrinking violet anymore, but Bruce sees more of me than anyone ever has. And I just shone a big old spotlight on my damage and invited him to weigh in on it.
He stands up, looming over me, and from my seat on the couch I feel so tiny. Common sense for self-preservation should tell me to run, but whatever inner alarm system I have is blissfully silent. He bends down slowly, reaching for my hand to pull me to my feet too.
There’s more than a foot between us, but I can feel him. A magnetic pull draws us closer to one another, the promise of contact powerful as I stare at his chest. I measure his width, I count the small threads in his T-shirt, anything to avoid his eyes.
“Allyson, I can see that hamster in your mind running so fast he’s about to destroy that wheel. Listen to me.” He cups my jaw firmly, forcing my chin up and my eyes to his.
This is not a lover’s touch but a power move.
He’s not letting me hide. In my mind, I’m sitting on the scattered and empty boxes of my demons, small and broken, with my knees cradled to my chest and my face tracked with tears I haven’t cried in years.
But here in reality, my hands are at my sides, my eyes hopeful and begging.
“I love you. There isn’t a goddamn thing you could say or do that would change that.
I’ve loved you since I was a kid, I loved you even when you were gone from me, and I love you now.
I’ll always love you, Al. And when I die, I’ll still love you then, so you’d better get your fine ass in the fucking dirt with me because I lost so many days with you that I don’t want to miss a single one again. Ever. I love you.”
Doubts, like chains, release me. Hope, like wings, lift me. I’m where I was supposed to be all along, with Bruce. There are no walls between us, no questions, no more what-ifs.
I have to believe that the past happened so we could get to where we are right now, as who we are right now. It’s a different path than either of us ever plotted, but it got us to the same place, nevertheless. Together.
I lift up to my toes, keeping my eyes open as I get incrementally closer to him. He bends forward, reading my intention, and we meet in the middle. Our lips touch softly, gently writing promises to each other with every caress.
Bruce releases my jaw, his hands tracing heat down my sides before wrapping around my back.
I squeeze at his biceps, digging my nails in to make sure he’s real and not some figment my imagination has drummed up.
But he’s remarkably solid and hard under my hands and groans into my mouth at the sharp bite of my trimmed nails. “Fuck, Allyson.”
He sounds as emotionally wrung out as I am, but thankful, so thankful that I’m here in his arms finally as he holds me tight, my cheek pressed to his chest. The rumble of his words vibrates against me as he murmurs into my hair.
“You are so goddamn beautiful, woman. Outside,” I feel his fingers toying with the loose ends of my hair, “and inside.”
He squeezes me again, the smallest shudder going through him.
“So strong, so brave,” he whispers, and then quiets.
After a silent breath, he continues, “You turned your pain into power and wear it like a crown. Don’t shrink yourself for me or anyone.
Be this big hearted, loud, proud, amazing woman that you are.
Because she is fucking stunning. I want it all, the full spectrum of whatever you’re feeling, thinking - whatever it is, I can take it, always.
Just share it with me, share your heart with me… ”
He’s still pleading his case, doesn’t believe that he’s had my heart all along too. “I love you,” I say into his chest. “I always have.”
“Fuck, baby.” The words are choked out, a sense of completeness surrounding us. There’s a finality to the moment, but also an exciting fresh start at the same time.
Yes, that’s what I want. I’m naked emotionally, so bare and open that it spills over to my adrenalin-filled body. I let go of Bruce’s arms to pull at my own shirt, wiggling to get it up in the tight space between us.
“Al?” Bruce questions delicately, though his voice is pure gravel.
“Fuck me, Bruce. No more defenses, no more secrets, no more ‘before’. Everything changes right here, right now. It’s just us, and I love you.” I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. This is the moment everything begins.
“I love you too, but we don’t have to right now. I know you’re raw.” His words are ones of tenderness, of sweetness, and I appreciate that. But it’s not what I want, it’s not what we need.
I find myself, the bold and brash girl who lived life wide open with no fear.
She hid for so long, but I’ve got her back now and she’s dancing on top of those demon boxes like she’s a fucking queen.
I get my shirt off, tossing it mindlessly behind me.
Bruce’s eyes lock on my breasts. They’re heavy with need, my nipples hard against my thin bra.
“Bruce.” I wait for his eyes to drift up, which takes a flatteringly long second like he can’t look his fill of me. When he does meet my gaze, I can see the fiery, smoldering heat there in his dark eyes and also the warm depth of love.
“I want to start over right now with you buried so deep inside me that we’re one, finally.
Always. Like we were meant to be. I want you to take me to the bedroom and fuck me.
Hard, rough. Show me that you know I can take it, that I can handle you at your best. Don’t treat me like I’m damaged.
Fuck me, Bruce.” My voice is steady, no doubt that I mean every word.
His jaw is hard, his words fierce. “You’re not fucking damaged, Al. You’re perfect, and you’re mine. Just like you were always meant to be.”
He pushes at me, leaving no doubt about where we’re going or who’s in charge here. We’re dancing, but it’s not like before. This isn’t me unsure of anything. This is him stepping me back toward my bedroom to take me, both of us knowing it’s exactly what I want.
When he shuts the door behind us, it’s like all the air gets sucked out of the room and I can only breathe him. Sweat and earth and the underlying musk that is all Bruce surrounds me.
He reaches behind his neck, pulling his shirt over his head without his eyes ever leaving mine. “Get naked, baby.” The gruff order washes over me, bringing goosebumps out along my flesh. “I don’t want anything between us ever again. Not even a fucking pair of panties.”
I swear to God, I almost come right then and there. A shudder of pleasure shoots down my spine as I reach behind my back to undo my bra.
Bruce is faster, dropping his shorts and toeing off his tennis shoes at the same time. I freeze, my fingers in the waistband of my own shorts, when I see his thick cock bared before me. I don’t think. I just do exactly what I want.
I drop to my knees in front of him.
“Allyson?” he grits out. He wants this from me, but he’s still holding back, being careful with me as he watches my every reaction.
I glare up at him in challenge and lick a long line along the underside of his cock, from his balls to his crown. I lay a chaste kiss there, letting the bead of precum paint my lips. “Do you want me to kiss you sweetly and softly?”
I do it again, the barest flutter of teasing contact that I know won’t get him where we’re going, as I watch his abs jump in response.
He growls, and I reward him with a suck along the very tip, a promise of more. “Or do you want me to suck you off deep in my throat?”
His hand fists his cock, tightly staving off the pleasure even my slight words brought.
His other hand works into my hair, tilting my head up to force my eyes to his.
He searches my face, wanting to be sure.
I nod slightly, the movement pulling my hair ever so faintly in his hand, and open my lips in invitation.
“Fuck, baby.”
I know that tone. I’ve got him. My Bruce, the dirty-talking, rough-fucking god who brings out a side of me that only he can—the boldly free, wanton woman who can unblushingly do anything. I smile in triumph, over my past, over my fears, over the loss of what Bruce and I had.
Because we have it back, deeper and rawer, with a newfound appreciation for our special uniqueness.
Bruce rubs the crown of his cock along my lips, and I stick my tongue out hungrily, wanting to taste him. “Suck me, Allyson. Take me in your mouth, work me into your throat. But don’t make me come. I’m not coming until I’m inside that sweet pussy.”
He releases his hold on my hair, cradling me instead so that I have control.
I take advantage, not going easy on him.
I bob my head, letting him in my mouth first to coat my tongue with the salty taste of his skin before going deeper.
I hum against him, knowing the vibration drives him wild, slurping messily along his length.
I own him, though I’m the one kneeling before him, greedily sucking his every thick, hard inch.
I feel strong and sexy as he loses control, fucking my mouth.
He tests me with a few careful thrusts, but I grip his thighs.
As my nails dig in and I moan for more, he gives me what I’m demanding and what he wants, going deeper and harder as he roughly enters my throat.
My eyes water, not with tears but with joy. I am still me.
A tiny little seed of doubt still lived in my core, afraid that even if I were free, there would be a line I couldn’t breach. A boundary that would send me spiraling. But as Bruce uses my face for his pleasure, I feel nothing but blessed relief at the fierce lust that consumes me as I devour him.
He pulls out sharply, breathing raggedly. “I need to be inside you.”
A small smile teases at my lips as I wipe them messily. I raise a brow and he growls.
“Not in your mouth. I’m coming inside your pussy, Al. Get on the bed.” He lifts me as he speaks, tossing me back. I love him like this, unapologetically starving for me and in a rush to get me underneath him.
He pulls my shorts off carelessly, my legs going askew.
“Turn over,” he instructs me. I flip to my stomach, and he pulls me back by my ankles, guiding me to bend my knees underneath me.
Face down and ass up, I should feel submissive.
Instead, I feel cherished as his eyes and his fingertips trace along my skin.
I feel powerful as I hypnotize him with the sway of my hips.
I look over my shoulder, watching him fist himself as he lines up with me. “Fuck me, Bruce. Please,” I beg, not wanting to wait a second longer.
To be his. For him to be mine. To be us again.
His hands go around my waist, pulling me back as he impales me deeply. Finally, it’s everything I need and want.
Nothing between us, no secrets or doubts, no defensive walls or painful history. Just us, bare and primal.
It’s a gut-wrenchingly simple movement, him moving fiercely in and out of my body, but it’s more than the motion. It’s a claiming, a taking mixed with a promise for the future.
He leans forward, covering me with his body, and I feel him everywhere .
. . over me, in me. His arms go underneath me, crisscrossing over my chest to hold my shoulders, using the leverage to go harder and rougher as he slams into me, and I cry out at the beautiful invasion.
“That’s it, baby. Take me, tell me how much you want it. ”
He’s always been better at dirty talk than I am, but this one I can do with no problem.
“Bruce, I want you so much. I love you . . . I love you!” It’s sweeter than the filthy sex we’re having, and the contrast is perfect, sending him over the edge.
I feel the heat of his cum filling me in spurts and spasms as he holds himself overwhelmingly deep inside me. He grits out my name, adding his own vow. “I love you, baby. Now fucking come for me, milk me with that sweet pussy.”
I fly, freely soaring through space even as he holds me down. The waves shoot through me in a blissful shock of current as I shake and quiver against him.
It’s perfect. It’s everything.
As we float back to Earth, I feel wonderfully fulfilled.
Not just physically, but emotionally. He moves us to lie down behind me, the big spoon cradling me as the little spoon, with his arms wrapped around my chest to hold me tight.
The cocoon of him makes me feel so safe and secure, not that I need him to protect me, but rather that I can be me and he’ll support that every step of the way, no matter which direction I want to go.
But all I want is him.
“I love you, Bruce,” I say quietly, biting my lip to stop from grinning like a loon even though he can’t see my face from behind. He’d know somehow. I know he would.
“I love you too, Allyson,” he murmurs happily against my neck, sealing the words with a sucking open-mouthed kiss to the delicate skin.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be, in his arms.