Justin stood in the entrance hall with his hat in his hand hanging by his thigh, other hand in his pocket. He wore his usual faded jeans and a light brown cotton shirt with buttons. He looked like a modern cowboy. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail.
He was looking at a painting, some scenery in Europe.
“Justin,” I said and he turned around. His eyes were a soft blue, and he smiled at me but he looked unsure. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t. It’s not you, it’s me.”
He took a step closer to me and I stopped breathing. I hadn’t had him this close to me voluntarily since I arrived at Elijah’s house.
“I miss you,” I said in a low voice before I could stop myself.
“You can’t mean that,” he said, but it sounded like a question not a statement.
“I know. But it’s true. I don’t remember leaving you. All I know is that I love you, and I’m not allowed to see you anymore. There’s no closure. I wanted you to tell me what had happened so I had closure. Everyone else is moving on with their lives and it’s not over for me.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. His eyes were full of emotion, full of memories of us that he had and I’d forgotten. Finally he looked down at his hands.
“It wasn’t really over for me, but you made your choice,” he said. “You chose Elijah, and I had to walk away. This is just the same thing, but the other way around.”
“But I don’t want to walk away, Justin. I don’t remember walking away. And if I had to choose right now, it wouldn’t be Elijah.”
“Dammit, Grace,” he said, and for a moment he looked angry. His eyes darkened to a deep blue, like the ocean, and his voice was thick with emotion. Before I knew what to do with this sudden display of emotion, he put both his hands on my cheeks and kissed me.
The moment his lips touched mine it was like an electric shock traveled through my body. I sighed against his lips and put my hands over his before sliding them down to his wrists.
His kissing was soft and gentle, like he was re-exploring me, getting to know me all over again. His lips were soft and coaxed my mouth open before he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He tasted lightly of sweat and Justin, the taste that didn’t belong to anyone else. There was never alcohol on his breath, and after spending so much time with Elijah it was a relief. It felt like I could breathe easy again.
He slid his hands down onto my shoulders and I let go of his wrists to allow him to move. He moved one hand behind my neck and the other he moved to the small of my back. He pulled me closer, pulled my body into his until we were so close we couldn’t get any closer. My breasts pushed against his chest and I could feel my nipples tightening, moving against the slippery material.
I shouldn’t have done it. I knew I shouldn’t have. I was standing in Elijah’s house while he was out of town, kissing the man I’d apparently told off. But it felt so right. I hadn’t really touched Justin in too long, and my body ached for him. Having him this close made me feel like I was alright again, like I’d been drowning for days and finally I’d broken to the surface and I could breathe again.
He broke the kiss and looked at me. His eyes were deep and dark, his pupils dilated and the way he looked at me made me feel numb. I slid my hand down his arm and he moved it from my back so that I could interlink our fingers. I laced my fingers through his and tugged on his arm so he would follow me down the hallway.
Somewhere in this house there was a housekeeper and a cook, and there was a gardener outside. I didn’t want them involved. I didn’t want them to know what I was doing.
I led Justin down the long hall and into the spare bedroom where I’d been staying the past week. I closed the door and locked it, and drew the curtains.
“You look like you have an agenda,” he said. His words stung and I turned around to look at him. It must have showed on my face, because his face changed, turning soft and apologetic.
“I was joking,” he said softly. I shrugged. I already felt like a bitch for what I was doing. For trying so hard with Elijah and failing. For being in love with Justin when I wasn’t allowed to be.
“This isn’t the master bedroom,” Justin said, looking around, changing the topic. The room was large, with plush cream carpets and wine red curtains, a matching bedspread and dark brown throw pillows. I shook my head and stepped in closer to Justin, my lips almost against his.
“I don’t stay in the master bedroom,” I said in a whisper against his mouth. He paused for just a second, thinking about it, before he closed the almost nonexistent distance and kissed me again. I didn’t know if it was because of what I’d said, or if the atmosphere had just become so charged, but we were in the bedroom together, and I didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.
He pulled at the ribbon that tied around the robe and the bow untied easily. The robe fell open. I tipped my shoulders back and it slid off and onto the floor. I stood in front of him in just satin pajamas. The material traced my breasts and my hard nipples. Justin glanced down and his lips parted slightly. His eyes were full of lust when he looked back up at me.
I stepped into him again, my body pressed up against the length of his body, and I could feel him pressing against my hip, hungry and hard.
His hand slipped in under the satin shirt and his fingers found my nipple. He tugged gently at it before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it. My body responded, tightening between my legs, and my breathing sped up.
I moved my hips against his. He put another hand under my shirt and lifted it up and over my head. I lifted my arms to make it easier and he threw it to the side.
“I always forget how stunning you are,” he mumbled between kisses. His hands were on my bare breasts, massaging them. My body was hot and feverish.
My fingers found his shirt buttons and I undid them one by one. I slipped the shirt over his shoulders, feeling his skin under my fingertips. The muscle rippled under his skin when he moved. He was well built, no fat on him and a bronze tan from spending so much time in the sun. I ran my hands down over his chest and then his stomach. I broke the kiss and leaned forward, putting my mouth on his left pectoral. I kissed it down to his nipple, over it, and down the middle of his stomach where the muscles were divided.
His body shuddered under my mouth.
I didn’t get far down before he pulled me up and kissed me, the kissing more urgent. He lifted me enough to carry me and moved toward the bed, laying me down on my back. He pulled the satin shorts off without ceremony, and I lay naked in front of him.
He looked at me like he’d never seen me naked before. His eyes roamed my body and lingered on my breasts, my stomach, and then between my legs. His gaze was heavy, like he was already touching me.
“You’re still dressed,” I said almost in a whisper. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, and undid his buckle. He pushed the faded jeans down and over his knees, and climbed onto the bed. The pants fell to the floor with a rustle. He’d lost his boots somewhere already but I hadn’t noticed when.
His body was lean and taut, and I wanted to wrap myself around it. He was stiff and hard, his cock betraying how eager he was to get inside of me. But he fought the lust and crawled over me until his face was in line with mine. He lay down, his body half-draped over mine, half on the bed. He kissed me again.
His cock lay thick and hard against my hip, the tip dripping a slick trail of lust on my skin.
I had my hand on his hip, and his hip ground against my body. I had the other hand on his shoulder.
He dipped his head and kissed me on my left nipple before he took it in his mouth and sucked on it. My body was on fire, heat surging through me, and I craved his body. I pressed my hand against his hip, telling him where I wanted him to go.
He didn’t listen. Instead he moved his free hand down between my legs. He propped himself on his other elbow to keep his weight off me, and he licked circles around my nipple. His fingers pushed into the slit and over my clit, hard and sensitive. I squirmed when he touched me, brushing his fingers’ tips over it.
He dipped two fingers into me, and then spread the wetness over my clit and kept rubbing in small circles. I moved my hips in the same motion, grinding against his fingers, against his cock pushing into the side of my hip.
He moved his head back up and kissed me. With that movement he repositioned his body, his fingers leaving my clit. I didn’t have time to think or complain before he pushed his head against the entrance and I gasped.
It was like electricity jolted my body. I’d been in control until now, but my breathing was becoming erratic and I closed my eyes. He pushed against me, his cock sliding into me, and I moaned. He pulled out slightly, teasing me, and I opened my eyes.
His eyes were on mine, face so close I could see the flecks of green in his blue eyes, and then he pushed into me all the way. I moaned as he pushed the length of him into me, and when he was in right up to the hilt, I gasped.