I almost didn't want it to be true. I almost wanted her to turn around and leave, because if she was here now, she'd inevitably have to leave again. And I didn't think I could take her leaving again. Not now, not like this.
Her biking leathers glistened in the rain, her ponytail hanging in strings over her shoulder. Could she see me in the window? I stepped back a bit just in case. She had a spring in her step as she walked toward the front of the building. She wasn't turning around. She wasn't leaving. Why did she keep doing this to me?
My heart ached to see her, ached to hold her again and breathe her in like so many times before. I wished she would stay for once. Wished she would stay and never leave my side. But even if she did stay, I would eventually have to leave. Our paths were everything but parallel. It was impossible to be with her, and yet impossible to be without her.
I watched her disappear from my window view, into the doors of the building. Any moment now, she would be at my door. I figured I'd better clean up a bit, not that she ever cared what my place looked like, but I always thought it was rude to have a lady over if your place looked like trash.
I did what little I could before I heard her knock. I ran and quickly grabbed a towel for her and opened the door.
"Leon!"
Her eyes shone and she couldn't hold back her grin. She threw her arms around my neck and her lips were on mine before I could even say hello. I couldn't help but smile, either. Despite knowing the inevitable pain of her leaving, despite not knowing when I would see her again, I couldn't help but be happy. There was just something about this woman, something that just exuded life and emotion and everything I wanted to cling to, like looking at a picture of my former self. Somehow she still managed to hold on to her sense of humor, her ease of living, everything she had been and still was after the horrific events she'd been through. She was my only anchor to the real world, and yet the only one I could talk to about my past.
I loved her. She knew it, and I knew it, but we never said it. She backed me up and kicked the door closed, her lips never breaking contact with mine as I put my arms around her and pulled her close.
Her hands moved from my hair to my shoulders and she finally broke the kiss.
"Missed you," she breathed.
"I couldn't tell."
She smiled at me and took the towel I offered. "The weather was so nice when I left… I had no idea it was going to rain, or I would have taken the Jeep," she said as she immediately made herself at home, walking into the bathroom to hang her soaked and dripping leather jacket on the shower head to dry. When she reappeared, she was wringing her hair out with the towel. "So how'd you know I was coming?" She wandered into the kitchen and took one of the stools at the island, taking care to set the towel over it before she sat down.
"Heard your bike coming. I always look when I hear one." I stepped into the kitchen with her. "Can I get you anything?"
"Aww, that's cute. I guess I should start calling you before I show up, huh? I'm actually feeling something warm. It's kind of chilly in here."
"Why don't you go in my room and find something to change into and I'll fix you some hot chocolate?"
"Okay!" she said with a smile.
I had to admit, I loved how she just didn't care that this wasn't her place and how she didn't care that I'd just told her she could go through my stuff. I figured she was here often enough anyway. It wasn't like I ever had anyone else over. She disappeared down the hall and into my room while I prepared her hot chocolate. My thoughts immediately began wandering again, and I found myself thinking of ways to keep her here this time, to persuade her to stay. So much of me wanted to sweep her off her feet, carry her off into the sunset and live happily ever after. She would be all for it, I knew. But for her to just ignore the rest of the world, to put aside her job, for me to put aside my job… it wasn't going to happen. At least not for a long long time.
She still wasn't back by the time her beverage was ready, so I grabbed her mug and wandered down the hall. The door of my room was about half closed, and I tapped the frame gently before I pushed my way in.
Claire was just pulling one of my T-shirts over her head as I walked in. Her wet clothes were nowhere to be found so I assumed she'd left them in the bathtub with her jacket.
"It's amazing how long clothing takes to remove when it's soaking wet," she said without looking at me. I set her hot chocolate down on the dresser and sat down on the bed, smiling.
"I bet it wouldn't take as long if you had me remove it for you," I replied smoothly.
"Oh, I'm sure it wouldn't," she said, turning. She lifted her hot chocolate off the dresser, sitting down against the pillows, and propped her feet up in my lap. "And I'm sure you wouldn't miss the opportunity."
I abruptly changed the subject. "So how long are you staying this time?" My smile faded, knowing it was probably just her usual visit. She'd stay for the night and be gone early the next morning, probably to get back to work on time, or to get back to her place with enough time to finish whatever it was that TerraSave had her working on. One night. It wasn't even 24 hours. More than a few times, we'd stayed up all night at least attempting to make up for all the time we never got to see one another. Sometimes I thought I would rather wait longer to see her if she would only stay longer. It tore me apart to see her go. She might come back in a week, a month, or longer. I never knew.
"Only for the night." She took a sip of her hot chocolate, hissing when it burned her tongue. "Shit! Did you cook this in a nuclear oven or something?"
"Claire…"
Her face fell as she looked up at me, and she set her mug down on the bedside table. "What's wrong?"
"It's been almost two years. You come and you go. It can't keep going on like this."
"Wait… is this… are you…? What do you mean it can't keep going on like this?"
"I can't handle being with you and yet barely being with you. I know I never have any free time, but for once in my life I just wish I didn't have to dread the morning. Just once I wish I could afford to spend an entire day with you. We talk, we go out, but it's just not… it's just not enough. Is it always going to be like this?
"I guess I never really thought about it…" she said slowly. "When I leave, the only thing on my mind is 'I can't wait to see him again,' and I just fixate on finding time to come and see you. I guess it's just not as painful for me." She stared at her hands. "I'm sorry. If you want me to stop coming… it's okay."
Instantly, I regretted even bringing it up. I could see the tears threatening to fall at any moment, and I'd hoped I could at least talk to her without it sounding like I was breaking up with her. I didn't want to leave her. I wanted things to get better. I wanted to see her, to be able to treat her to all the things a girl like her deserved. With the distance… the visits… I felt like I almost couldn't love her properly. How could I treat her right if I never had the opportunity?
But I had to open my mouth and say those words. I just fucking had to go and fuck it up. And now I had to fix it. I picked up her hand in mine and gently placed a kiss on it.
"I would never want you to stop visiting me, Claire," I whispered. "Sometimes I feel like your visits are the only thing I have to cling to, the only thing that keeps me in touch with the real world." I looked into her eyes as I slowly turned her hand over and kissed her palm. Her expression was vulnerable, pained, and I could tell I had dealt a horrible blow to her personal security. I used my hold on her hand to gently pull her toward me. She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, whether to show affection or to literally attempt to cling to me, I was unsure, but regardless I leaned in to grace her lips with a kiss, slow and deliberate.
"Claire…" I whispered against her, "Please don't ever stop coming to see me. Please, don't." I paused, choosing my next words carefully. I turned them over and over in my mind, trying to find the right way to turn her around, to have her fall into my arms one more time and never think twice about it.
Finally, I decided there was only one way to tell her. "Claire," I pulled away, bringing a hand up to her face in a gesture of affection, "I love you."
She lifted her eyes, her face suddenly alight. I never tell a woman I love her unless I'm absolutely certain. Unless I absolutely know that I mean it without question, without doubt.
"Leon…" she breathed. "Leon, I…" She leaned in and kissed me deeply. "I love you, too," she whispered.
She used her body to push me down on the bed. I scooted up to the pillows and let her fall in into my arms, breathing in her scent as I kissed her slow and deep. If she were to be here for one week or one hour, it didn't matter. We were in no hurry. I eased my hands under her baggy T-shirt and rested them on her hips, letting her set the pace. I knew her enough to recognize the subtle signs, to know when she wanted to be touched and when she wanted to touch me.
Her hands fisted in my shirt, sliding impatiently beneath it as she ground her hips into mine, enjoying the friction and solidity of my manhood as it hardened beneath her. Her kiss was unhurried, but it didn't last. She pushed my shirt up. I released her hips to accommodate her as she slid it over my head, and immediately she fixed her lips on my neck. There was no helping the light moans that escaped my throat as she sucked and tongued my pulse, lingering just long enough to make me miss her attention as she traveled further south, feathering kisses down my abdomen before she reached my jeans. She planted one last kiss at the spot where my happy trail disappeared into my pants before she want to work on my belt, pulling it free and unzipping my jeans, her hand diving into my boxers and resurfacing with my erection.
She stroked it slowly, unhurriedly as her lips met mine in a lazy kiss. I got as much pleasure from her touch as I did from the sheer slowness of the moment, easy and free. I slowly lifted her shirt, smirking because she had only just put it on no more than 20 minutes ago. I left her bra as it was, amused with her choice of underwear. She wore a simple black plunge bra, with a tiny pink bow nestled between her breasts. There's always something so tantalizingly beautiful about a woman in sexy underwear. It's like she's showing off what she has, but in a teasing and coy way. I silently hoped she had panties to match.
I smoothed my hands over her back, pulling her into a loose embrace, teasing her tongue with mine before I captured her lower lip between my teeth. I nursed it gently and let it go, and she hummed her approval. My hands toyed with the hem of her sweats, slipping beneath the elastic waistband to rest on her bottom. At this she released my erection and straddled me once more, trapping my erection beneath her. I gently rocked into her, feeling my need grow steadily, like water coming to a boil.
Before long I was slipping those pants down her hips. She climbed off and laid beside me, lifting her legs to accommodate her disrobement. I settled between her thighs.
Score. Her panties were a perfect match to her bra. Simple black, with another pink bow below her navel. It seemed a shame to remove them, but as I felt her through the thin fabric, her warmth was too inviting to resist. I slid them off her slender legs and fingered her wetness, slipping a finger within her while I raised my free hand to her breast to roll it gently in my palm.
She reached behind her to remove her only remaining garment. Why was it that I simply never got tired of seeing this woman naked? She was beautiful, with creamy skin and gentle curves in all the right places. Her nipples were pink and perky, sensitive peaks that beckoned for my touch. I lavished her body with the attention it so craved, and watched as her reactions rose from unhurried want to eager need. Her cheeks flushed and her chest heaved as I pushed my fingers in and out of her, bowing my head to caress one dusky nipple with my tongue. Her hands tangled in my hair in silent command, a message that I was free to do anything but stop my ministrations. Her hips undulated against my hand and I stroked her clit with my thumb. She panted and gasped, and more than once I heard my name slip past her lips.
I was actually thoroughly enjoying myself, and it almost came as a surprise when her grip tightened in my hair and her hips twitched against my hand. Her whole body tensed and her breath hitched, and in seconds she was spasming with every pass my thumb made over her clit. She relaxed beneath me, heaving deep breaths in the aftermath of her orgasm.
"Mmmm…" she sighed, gazing up at me in contentment. "You know, it always feels a hundred times better when you fuck me after I come," she whispered with heavy lidded eyes.
"I guess that means I should get to it," I smirked.
"Yeah, I think so," she said with a coy smile.
"Want to help me out of these pants then, if you're so eager?"
"I'd love to."
She was on her knees, sliding my pants and boxers over my hips to expose my erect manhood. She gave it a few firm strokes before she engulfed me with her mouth, completely without warning. Claire gives the best head I've ever gotten. That sweet tongue of hers knows every nerve and sweet spot I have, and her mouth is like a god damn vacuum. I moaned as she sucked me, as she pulled me back toward her, further and further until I was straddling her chest, my cock buried deep in her mouth. She released me suddenly, and looked up at me with a cute and innocent smile. That was all the inspiration I needed.
I pulled her to the edge of the bed and settled between her thighs once more, lifting them slightly for better maneuverability. Her glistening slit just begged to be penetrated. I teased her clit with the tip of my cock, rubbing it over her wet mound as she moaned impatiently. Good god she was hot. Good god I wanted to fuck her senseless.
I pushed into her slowly, savoring every moist inch of her walls. I wondered sometimes if she ever touched herself in my absence, because she never ever seemed to be any less tight than the first time I'd taken her, after Spain, after she'd called me every day in quarantine, counting the days till I was released. Her walls gripped me tight, and I began with a slow and sensual pace. She was impatient, hands roaming over me, up my chest, over my shoulders, pulling me down toward her face and her luscious, bouncing breasts. Her skin was salty and sticky, and I tasted her where her neck met her shoulder, slowly increasing my pace.
I angled my thrusts just so and instantly she began screaming in pleasure. Thrust for thrust she met me, each one stroking her core dead on. I watched, elated, as her eyes rolled upward and she fell limp, on the verge of another orgasm. I fucked her frantically, full force, slamming her with everything I had, feeling my own orgasm cresting over me. I bit down on her shoulder and cried out as it hit me, my hand slipping between us to tease her clit eagerly in hopes of coaxing a second orgasm out of her. Euphoria clouded my senses, my body jerked and twitched on its own accord, Indecipherable sounds and moans fell from my lips as my orgasm ripped through me.
She sagged in my arms, clearly coming down from her own high. I withdrew and cupped her face in my hands, kissing her, still quite unable to get enough of her. I still refused to release her lips as I fell beside her on the bed. She rolled into my arms and I finally pulled away, tucking her head below my chin and breathing in her scent. I closed my eyes and breathed deep.
When I opened them, the first thing that caught my eye was her mug of hot chocolate. It had finally stopped steaming.
But she was already sound asleep.
"I love you, Claire," I mumbled. And before long, I was nodding off, too.