“Shhh, sweetie. That day was horrific. For everyone. Not just the people in the blast zone, but the people sitting in their homes, watching the city we all love get terrorized. For people who were done with the race, enjoying a congratulatory beer with friends down the street. And definitely for people like you so close to the end. Just stopping to tie a shoe or nurse a small cramp was the difference between being a part of the explosion or being stopped. You have every right to your feelings.”
I closed my eyes, letting Luke’s words wash over me. He pressed kisses to my closed eyelids, offering me comfort.
“I’m so scared I’ll freeze up when I get to the starting line. That I won’t be able to start. Or worse, I’ll get to Mass Ave and not be able to finish. That every sound, every picture from that day will flash in my head, and I’ll be paralyzed with fear.”
Luke lifted me into his lap so I straddled him. He wrapped his palms around my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
“Lex, you’ll do great. You have to find your happy place out there. Focus on you and your race. You can’t think about last year.”
That was easier said than done. The news would focus on the tragedy for the next week. Pictures of bloodied bodies. The chaos that ensued after the bombs went off. The medical personnel scrambling to help. The police trying to regain order in the face of pure terror.
“You need to focus on the happiness the survivors have found since that day. Focus on their strength, and draw from it. Those people are the heroes. Don’t give the assholes who terrorized us for days any more of your headspace. They don’t deserve to be in this gorgeous head of yours.” He bent down and kissed my forehead to emphasize his point.
After the bombing was equally as horrible. The city went days without knowing who was responsible or why it happened. That area of the city was closed off as investigators combed through wreckage, videotapes from spectators’ cell phones, security cameras from businesses, and false accusations and leads. The Thursday following the race, the two terrorists were identified, and their images released to the public. By Friday morning, they were on the run, and rained terror on the city and suburbs again, while the FBI, Boston, Newton, and Watertown police tried to capture them. One terrorist was killed, while the other hid in a boat somewhere. After hours and hours, he was finally captured, ending the nightmare.
I buried my face deep into his chest, drawing as much comfort as I could from him. After a few minutes, I leaned away and looked up into his kind face. “What a buzz kill. I’m sorry for ruining our date.”
“Don’t think for one minute this has ruined anything. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want your truth. You gave it to me, and I’m grateful for your honesty.” Luke placed his lips to mine, pouring his sentiment into his motions. He held me tight, rocking and soothing me until my tears stopped.
He pushed me away, giving me a sly grin. “Still wanna make out?”
I didn’t think I had ever laughed so much after crying so hard. We had just had a deep, serious, emotional conversation during what was technically our first date. I was spent from crying, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes was hard to ignore. So was the hard-on he was sporting under me.
“I’m a hot mess. I probably look like Alice Cooper on a good day, and you want to make out?”
“What? Snot soaked shirts don’t turn you on?” He waved his hand down the front of his shirt now stained with my tears.
“Oh my God. I’m gross. I’m so sorry!” I tried to move off his lap. I needed to get away from this awful, embarrassing situation, but Luke grabbed hold of my hips and refused to let me go.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You promised me some making out, and I’m going to cash that chip in. Your tears and snot don’t scare me away. How about this? I’ll take my shirt off, and we can pretend it never happened?” Luke proceeded to slowly unbutton his shirt.
The air in the room changed from tragic, to charged with desire. When he was halfway there, my fingers itched to take over his task, so I brushed him out of the way and finished what he started. Once the buttons were undone, I sat back so I could push the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. His eyes followed my every move.
With his shirt out of the way, I became greedy for more, and yanked his undershirt out of his waistband and tugged it over his head. Finally, I was able to see the tattoo that peeked out at me all these weeks. An intricate tribal design graced his shoulder and down his bicep, with a deep fuchsia lotus flower in the center of the striking black image. I wanted to trace each line with my tongue.
Luke’s eyes darkened as he stared at my mouth. I licked my lips in response. As much as I wanted his lips on mine, I wanted mine all over his body. I wanted to taste his skin. I wanted to worship the body of the man who had worshipped mine for weeks. His neck, his pecs, his everything.
“You are so beautiful.” Luke didn’t give me a chance to respond or follow through with my plans. He captured my lips with his and devoured my mouth. Our tongues danced slow and seductive. “I need to see more of you.” His voice pleaded as he lowered his hands from the nape of my neck to the hem of my shirt.
I gave a slight nod, granting permission.
Slowly and downright torturously, he raised my shirt over my head, skimming his knuckles over my skin as he went, creating a wake of goosebumps. My shirt wound up in the pile with his. His hands, which had touched my body for the last few weeks, felt different this time. More reverent, more intimate.
“God, I have dreamt of this for so long.” He shifted me down to the couch, and as he hovered over me, he trailed kisses down my neck, across my shoulders, to the cleavage spilling out of my lace demi bra. His mouth felt so good that I couldn’t hold in my moans any longer.
“I’ve had the same fantasies since day one.” I panted, grabbing his face and drawing it to me so I could pour my soul into his mouth. “You feel amazing. Please, don’t stop.”
With that, he moved down to my breasts and sucked my nipples through the lace. Nonsensical words poured out of my mouth when he blew cool air over my sensitive buds. While his mouth laved one, his magical fingers teased the other.
I needed more. Tearing my hands from his head, I arched my back, unclasped my bra, and yanked it out of the way.
Luke shot me a devilish grin. “Thank fuck.”
His mouth directly on my skin was out of this world.
*****
Luke
Remembering that day was hard, to put it mildly. With the spa so close to the explosion, I, too, worked to overcome my own demons. My only hope was that I helped ease some of her worries. Maybe Jeff could talk to her about it too, since he also ran last year. I read somewhere that some survivors were running this year, and to overcome their fears, they trained near the finish line, the epicenter of the bombing.
After discussing such a hard topic, I was grateful I could pull her out of her head and into the present. Alexa was beyond my wildest dreams. The feel of her skin beneath my hands would never get old, but tasting her was my new addiction. She was so soft and silky and sweet. I couldn’t get enough.
“You taste like mangos,” I breathed out as I moved from one breast to the other. My fingers roamed over her stomach and up her sides before teasing her other nipple. Her moans drove me to continue my assault. I needed more skin. I needed everything with this girl. I wanted all her smiles, all her moans, all of her body.
I backed away to stare down at her beauty. I had never seen such an amazing sight in all my years. “You’re so gorgeous. You seriously take my breath away. I want to devour you right here.” As I looked at Alexa, her eyes closed, chest rising and falling to match my own, I had to stop. I needed to follow my rules, bent as they may be. Nine days. Nine days before I could claim her as mine. Nine days of pure torturous hell.