The Weekend
Chapter Six
Reba felt as if she had made it back to their motel room in ten seconds flat. Her heart was pounding against her chest and her anger was clouding her vision, but it wasn't Brock she was angry with. It was herself. How could she let herself kiss him? She couldn't believe it. She thought she knew better than that.
But his fingers against her skin and the look in his eyes took her by surprise. Before she knew what was happening his cologne had filled her senses, had drugged her, and she let their lips touch. She closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips, remembering how his had felt.
What really angered her the most was the fact that she enjoyed it. She had thought about kissing him ever since the moment he walked out of the door six years ago. Every look, every time his hands rested against her body, no matter how innocent, she remembered. She remembered the way his lips moved with hers, the way his voice sounded when he whispered sweet words into her ear, the way his hands felt against her flesh when there was no blouse to protect her from him. She remembered it all.
But she didn't want to. She had tried so hard to move on, to move passed him over the years, but somehow, she always circled back to him. It was a vicious cycle, one that caused her heart so much pain. The only man she had wanted for the last six years was the very one she could not have.
Reba closed the motel door behind her, locking it to make sure no one would make an appearance, to make sure he wouldn't make an appearance. She couldn't face him, not yet anyway.
She walked over to her bag and quickly pulled her black tee-shirt over her head, laying it on the bed next to her. She had spotted a bar across the road and what better way to avoid Brock than by going to a bar and drowning her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey? She rifled through her bag until she came across the blouse she was looking for, pulling it over her head in haste and adjusting it against her body; it criss-crossed at the front, creating a V-neck that accented her body perfectly.
Reba walked into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror above the sink as she adjusted the red curls that surrounded her face. Her shirt was a deep purple and she found herself lost in thought when she remembered it was Brock's favourite colour on her. He always said it made her vibrant hair pop.
She walked out of the washroom in a huff and grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. That's it. She picked her jacket up as she walked out of the motel room. She needed to get rid of these thoughts.
Brock watched from a distance as Reba exited their room, he was hoping to catch her before she ran. She always ran, but he didn't blame her. After everything he's done to her, he'd run too if he was in her position. He watched as she crossed the street and headed directly towards the bar that sat in the middle of the parking lot. Of course that's where she was headed, he should've known.
Brock let himself into their motel room and immediately saw her discarded tee-shirt on the bed. Lord, the woman changed! Nothing good has ever happened when she's changed and headed to a bar, that's how she used to make him jealous in college.
He wasn't sure what to do next. Back then, he'd follow her because she was his, but now, she no longer belonged to him and what she does with her time, shouldn't be his concern. He walked over to the bed and took her small tee-shirt in his hand. It was still warm from her body that had been pressed against it just moments before. He brought it to his face and could still smell her. It shouldn't be his concern, that he was right about, but as much as he tried to believe that, he couldn't. It was his concern. He grabbed his keys and quickly exited the room. He was not about to let her runaway from this, not again. All they ever did was run from the feelings that they both still shared, they did that when he'd told her he'd made a mistake and they did that after their counselling session a year ago. They needed to talk.
Brock walked into the small bar and saw Reba seated at a table in the corner. Her hand rested on a small glass which he knew was filled with whiskey on the rocks; that was her go-to angry drink. He walked to the bar and ordered himself a beer, figuring he too could benefit from some liquid courage.
Reba rolled her eyes when she saw Brock approaching her table. She should've known he'd follow her. Her stomach was doing summersaults and, although her first instinct was to run, she knew they had to talk.
"We need to talk." Brock stood in front of her table, beer in hand.
She nodded and gestured to the open seat next to her. Brock sat down and took a sip of his beer, appreciating the cool as soon as it hit the back of his throat.
"I'm sorry I kissed you, Reba."
She took another swig of her whiskey as the memory of this afternoon rushed back to her. It burned as it made its way down her throat. "I didn't exactly try to stop you."
She was right, but he wasn't sure how to respond. He had a habit of talking himself into a whole and making the situation worse. "But still." He took another sip of his beer, watching her intently as she looked out onto the dance floor.
Reba felt his eyes on her and she felt naked under his gaze. He could make her feel sexy even in a paper bag. She downed the rest of her drink; no way was she having this conversation sober.
The colour of her blouse didn't go unnoticed by Brock. God, she looked so beautiful and he had to wonder, did she choose that colour on purpose or was it a coincidence? He watched as she threw back the rest of her drink and had the same idea, quickly chugging the rest of his.
"Want me to get you another one?" He stood from his seat, mug in hand.
"Sounds like a plan." She handed him her glass and waited as he walked to the bar.
As Brock waited at the bar for their drinks, he looked around the room. It was full of locals laughing and dancing, enjoying their night out. It reminded him of Terry's bar back in the day. He and Reba had spent so much time together there. He spotted a juke box next to the bar and smiled to himself. That's how the two of them had come across their song. He walked over to it, hope filling his chest. He flipped through it and there it was; the first song they had ever danced to together. Their song.
The familiar guitar rift and beat of the drums radiated throughout the room and Reba felt her body stiffen as soon as the music hit her ears. No. She hadn't heard this song in almost seven years. She looked over her shoulder to see Brock standing next to the jukebox, a smile spread across his lips. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run, out of this town, out of this world, out of his life, but as he walked towards her, the whole world slowed and she felt herself under his spell.
Their eyes remained locked until he was standing in front of her and holding out his hand. "Dance with me."
"Brock, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Just get up and do it, I know you want to."
Reba knew doing this would be the worst thing for her given their situation, but as she thought about it, she didn't care. The booze warmed her belly and the song brought so many memories back to her. It's amazing what music can do to a person.
She took his hand and he led her out into the middle of the dance floor. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Reba rested her arms on his shoulders and swayed her body with his. Bruce Springsteen's sultry voice surrounded them as the lyrics that drove her wild rolled off of his tongue. Brock stared into her eyes and as much as she tried to look away, she couldn't. Their faces were mere centimeters apart and she could feel his breath on her lips. Alarm bells were going off inside of her, but she ignored them. It felt as if it were their first dance all over again.
I got a bad desire, oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.
She felt Brock's hands move under the hem of her shirt and rest against the small of her back. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Tell me now, baby, is he good to you? And can he do to you the things that I do? Oh, no, I can take you higher. Oh, oh, oh I'm on fire.
Brock saw anger and desire fighting in her eyes, but he knew exactly what to do to drive her wild. How do you think he won her over in her college days? Her skin was warm and soft like it had always been and he found himself unprepared for the jolt that passed through his chest at their touch.
He watched as Reba's breath caught in her throat and her eyes closed; it was working. The tension between them was becoming unbearable.
Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley through middle of my skull.
Reba could feel herself losing any amount of control she had and the walls she had worked so hard to put up, fell away with ease.
At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head. Only you can cool my desire. Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.
Brock brought his hand to her cheek, cupping it gently, and ran his thumb over her lips. Reba opened her eyes at his touch and found herself looking straight into his once again.
Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.
He slowly began moving his face closer to hers and her heart began to pound, feeling as if the distance between them was the largest distance there was. Their lips were millimetres apart and the anticipation was killing her. She thought he was about to kiss her, but just as their lips were about to connect, he surprised her by mouthing the last words of the song:
Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.
"Do you remember all of the times we danced to this song, made love to – " His voice was a whisper, but it was enough to bring Reba out of her trance. She backed away slowly, confusion filling his eyes. She could feel all of the eyes in the room on the two of them and it was becoming too much for her to handle.
"I can't, Brock." She snatched her purse from their table and headed out of the door. He watched as she disappeared from his view.
And there she was, running away once again.
"No." He said to himself, he wasn't going to let her do this again. He quickly ran after her, leaving a twenty on the bar as he did so.
She had already crossed the road and he saw her entering their motel room. He ran across the road and startled her when he entered the room just seconds after she had. Reba stood there, frozen, her eyes wide and filled with fear.
"Why not?" Brock was breathing heavily and his tone was harsh.
"Because, Brock, you're just having some fun for the weekend. I'll be in love for the rest of my life." He could hear the hurt in her voice and see it in her eyes. Reba felt bare from her confession, she wasn't one to admit her feelings so easily.
Brock quickly walked towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Just having fun?" His voice was filled with anger and she tried to move away, but he held her firmly in his grip. "Reba, I left six years ago because I made a mistake and it was the right thing to do. I didn't have a choice." She ripped her shoulders from his grip and turned away. "But don't you ever think for a second that I left because I stopped loving you. I've loved you from the very first moment I met you." Her back faced him, but he could tell those words had hit her hard.
"We've been running from these feelings for six years, Reba. We have to stop, it's only going to get worse."
She turned to face him, but instead of speaking, she walked quickly towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips connected immediately and his arms wrapped around her body, his hands roaming her back, touching, feeling, trying desperately to make sure she was real, this was real.
Their lips moved together in a fiery passion and they held each other as close as they possible could, feeling every inch of each other's bodies. His hands moved underneath her shirt and he stepped back, breathing heavily, and slid his hands up her sides, her shirt moving with them.
Reba closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his hands against her body. Her chest was about to explode. He pulled her shirt over her head and quickly grabbed his, removing it from his body in one sift motion. His lips found hers once again, they kissed slowly, in a daze, and enjoyed the feeling of their bare chests pressed together.
Reba brought her hand to his cheek and deepened their kiss. She gently trailed her fingers across his shoulders and down the length of his arm, sending chills throughout his body.
Brock broke their kiss and moved his lips to her neck, sending a trail of kisses across her shoulder and down her arm. He moved his kiss down her stomach as he began to kneel on the floor beneath her. Reba dug her fingers into his hair as he moved down the length of her body. He pulled away from her flesh and undid the button on her jeans, slowly pushing them down her legs.
Once he had discarded her jeans, he began to kiss up her legs, her stomach, her chest, her neck, covering her lips with his once again. God, he had forgotten just how beautiful she was.
Reba reached in between the two of them and unzipped his jeans, ridding them from his body. She ran her hands all over his chest, taking in all of his chiseled features. Brock wasted no time and pulled away to look into her eyes as he unclasped the back of her bra. His heart jolted at the sight of her as her bra fell to the floor. He attacked her mouth and lifted her into the air before gently laying her down on the bed.
Reba could feel herself about to lose it all, his hands on her body and his lips on hers were driving her insane. She couldn't take it anymore.
They quickly removed the remaining fabric from each other and just like that, the two were connected; all the tension that had been built up between them, released in an instant. A gasp escaped Reba's lips and she arched her back into his hips. It had been so long, but despite the years that had passed, it felt like home.
They moved together slowly and carefully, not wanting to rush it. They had waited so long for this; they needed to feel each other, be one with each other for as long as they could.
Brock ran his hands up her body, finding her finger tips and lacing his with her own, holding them above her head as he moved.
Reba wrapped her legs around his waist and held him close, wanting to feel every single bit of him for who knows what would happen next.
He let her fingers go and softly drug his nails down her arms, eliciting a moan from her lips. They matched each other's movements so perfectly and there was no doubt in his mind that the two were made for each other.
The air was thick around them and Reba found herself struggling for breath as the warmth in her belly began to build. She scraped her nails down his back and Brock couldn't stop the groan from escaping his mouth.
Reba could hear her heart beating in her ears and knew her world was about to explode. He slid his hands underneath her back and pressed her into him, her head falling back against the pillow as he did so. His lips found her chest and painted it with kisses.
Suddenly, everything lit up around her and the feeling that had been forming in her stomach exploded with intensity, sending chills and pleasure throughout her entire being.
"Oh, Brock!" Escaped her lips, a sound he had missed over the years.
Those words were enough to send him over the edge and he held her so tightly as the world came crashing down around him. He finally felt like he was where he needed to be. He had been so lost for so long and he couldn't figure out why, but now he knew. He belonged by her side, she was his purpose.
Reba rested her head against his chest as they both descended from their high. The amount of love she felt in her heart for him astounded her. Even after everything, he was the only one that mattered. They held each other close, not speaking just feeling. For the love they had been denying for six years was finally out in the open.
The song used in this chapter is I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen and if you don't immediately go and listen to it, please be ensured that I am judging you.