Searching Hearts (4 page)

He holds his hand to his forehead like it
hurts. “What? What are you talking about? We’ve had a great
marriage, Bec.”

“It’s been great for you. It hasn’t been
great for me.”

“Wait wait wait now. You just said it
yourself. You
let
me dictate your life – you
let
me.
I didn’t ask you to stop working. I didn’t ask you to follow me
around like a puppy dog without any opinions of your own!”

That hits way too close to home for me not
to blow my top. “A PUPPY DOG!!! I would have had opinions – JACK –
if you wouldn’t have been so damned domineering.” My feet carry me
quickly into the little bedroom where the romantically lit,
fire-burning stove mocks me. “Oh shut up!” I yell at it.

“Hey! We don’t say
shut up
–
remember?”

I sink onto the bed. “I’m sorry.” That was
my rule: never swear at each other, tell each other to shut up, or
go to bed angry. Slippery slopes to a nasty marriage. I don’t tell
him that I was talking to the stove. He wouldn’t get it and then
I’d feel like an idiot for explaining. And explaining. And
explaining.

I don’t want to explain anymore.

“What’s going on, Bec?” He’s staring at
me.

The answer is very simple and very sad.
“It’s over, Jack. It’s just over.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to
say.” He stares off into an uncertain future, resting on the
doorframe. All I can see are his white sneakers and the ring on his
finger. I asked for stable. I asked for what I got, but I was
wrong. It’s not enough and I am going to die someday. I want to
live. I want to be on my own and travel the world. I want to know
what it feels like to go to another country and not know where my
hotel is, and find my own way there. I want to be independent (and
have lovers on the side).

“I need to find out who I am without being
defined by my husband and what he wants,” I say, quietly.

His eyes, so familiar to me, lock on mine
and tear up. “I don’t know why you can’t do that with me.”

“History has shown I can’t, hasn’t it?”

He nods and pushes off to walk into the
living room. I sit and listen to him make his way to the door.
Jumping up, I run after him. “Are you leaving?”

With his hand on the doorknob, his body
facing away, he mumbles, “Yeah.” He looks over his shoulder and I
see tears on his cheeks. “I’ll drive up the coast and find
somewhere else to stay. I need some time to think.”

“Okay.”

A deep crease of pain clouds his brow. “I’ll
see you back home.”

“No. You won’t. Goodbye, Jack.” I turn and
disappear into the bedroom, resting my head against the cool, wood
wall as I listen to the door close on a chapter of my life. My
heart pounds like a ticking clock as I listen to him leave.

He’s gone. It’s over. I’m free.

I breathe. Out cobwebs, in fresh air. Out
confinement, in liberty. Out security, in adventure. But then the
door opens again and frustration pours cold water over my heart. I
don’t want to explain anymore – just go already! I whip out of the
bedroom, ready to fight for a life I know I need.

“Brendan!” Brendan closes the door, the door
latching with a slow thunk.

“You’re married?” His jaw is tight. Eyes
firm. “Was that your husband?” He pushes his hands into his jeans,
biceps tensing. “I watched him drive away.”

I can’t speak when he looks at me like this.
I walk to him and silently nod.

“He drives a Prius.”

My eyebrows fly up and before I realize I’m
even talking, my thoughts are voiced. “He even rented one of those
things?”

Brendan’s lips twist into a sexy smirk, and
for the first time the sardonic thing he’s been trying at, becomes
real. Him seeing my husband, knowing I hadn’t told him I was
married, that shifted something inside of him. Looking back at me
are no longer the eyes of a boy. His innocence that had hung by a
heartstring has broken away and vanished, but I don’t know that. I
just see pain.

He opens the door and walks out.

Brendan

Pacing in Cottage 2. Pacing and pacing and
pacing.

______________________

I’m done with women. They’re all cheating
liars. They all want you to let your guard down so they can walk
all over you and act like it’s nothing. You open the doors, you pay
the tab, you walk on the outside of the sidewalk so they’re
protected. You send them flowers. You compliment them. You do
anything to hear them laugh. You melt under their smiles. You bend
to their tears because your manhood demands it.

You fall for their games.

And they give you nothing back.

Nothing.

Which means only one thing to me. You have
to take it. I don’t mean you have to take it like a man. You have
to
take it.
Take everything you can, because no one is going
to give it to you, and your happiness is the only thing that’s
important. I will never let a woman get under my skin again.

A small tap comes from my front door. It’s
her. I know it’s her. Here to apologize and talk. Fuck that.

A door has never been opened this fast. I
look to see if she’s alone, reach out and scoop her into my arms,
slamming the door closed and pushing her up on it. My mouth mashes
into hers searching to see if she kissed him. I taste only her so
at least she came to my door unsullied. I feel wetness on my cheeks
and know that she is crying. I don’t care. No talking. No
sorry
. Just skin against skin - everything else forgotten. I
let go of her kisses long enough to pull the interfering cotton
dress over her head and throw it away. She moans against my lips as
she pulls off my shirt, touching my chest like a blind woman
reading a book. Her leg locks around my hips and I grind against
her, making a mess of her flimsy cream-colored panties. I growl as
her nails dig into my back like sexy, sharp needles igniting a new
addiction. “I can’t…” she moans.

“But you will anyway,” I say, watching her
pull impatiently at my zipper.

“Yes. I will.” She pushes hard and slams me
against the wall next to us, taking control. I didn’t see this
coming. Tugging my jeans down, she kneels and touches me as I lean
my head back and close my eyes. A deep guttural moan from me
excites her as she wraps her lips around the tip of me, licking and
making me cry out as she takes me all in. Sara didn’t know how to
touch me like this. Rebecca – wild cat unleashed – wraps her
fingers around the base, her mouth envelops me to tease and
suck.

I am her mouth’s slave. All of my choices
are stripped away. There is only this.
Only this.
I have
never felt this kind of experienced skill. As I crumble into a ball
of grunts and thank you’s under her teasing tongue – the truth that
I’ve never been with
a woman
before now is as obvious to me
as if Einstein himself walked up and said, “By the way, you’ve
never had your cock sucked right, until today.” Thanks Einy. I’m
not an idiot. I know that now.

I can’t stop her. Looking down, the pressure
builds to making me near unconscious as I lock eyes with her. She’s
looking up at me. Her eyes are like a beautiful animal’s, drinking
in what they see like they haven’t had water in years. Oh God. The
vibrations that shake my body are unreal. I touch her head, my legs
bending at the knees. Rocking into her mouth – I’m too excited. I’m
too gone. I let it all go. I yell out again and again as she moans,
taking all of my juices into her mouth. I’ve never heard myself
whimper – but I’m whimpering now. Down to the ground I go the
moment her lips release me. We’re both panting.

I see only stars behind closed, grateful
eyelids.

Rebecca

I’m a new me and It’s a whole new world.

______________________

He’s naked and glistening all over, eyes
closed, kissable mouth open, gasping for breath. I have done this
to him. I have devoured him and showed him what an older woman
knows how to do. Bring it on, college co-eds – I’ve got you all
beat.

I was always good at feeling what a man’s
ride feels like, which means I can control and guide it. My
soon-to-be-ex-husband always said that if I could go down on
Congress, there would be no more animosity between parties.
Everyone would happily agree to everything I wanted; the world
would be a better place. It always made me laugh, but secretly, I
loved hearing it.

I so often think I have no power in my life.
And not that blowing a guy is the only place I have it – that’s a
ridiculous notion – but it’s that it makes me feel like I’m the one
with the steering wheel in a very tangible way. Come along for my
ride. I don’t know how some women don’t like it. I fucking love
it.

Blue flashes of light glance to me… the
beast is awake.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” he smiles, shaking his head. “What
the fuck was that?”

I grin and squeeze my shoulders up, giving
them again to gravity. I’m about to say something, but he lunges
for me and pins me to the floor. I gasp at his formidable stare.
These eyes of his! A man looks at me from within them, and I forget
that he’s barely out of college as my breath catches and holds in
my chest. I’m waiting for what he’s going to do. Holding me down,
he lowers himself to kiss me slowly and oh-so-sensually. His chest
mashes my breasts and his presses on mine. I feel him hardening
once more, this time against my inner thigh as my legs go up to
encircle him. His tongues tastes so good. And his smell intoxicates
me. His body – every inch of it is utterly kissable. I vow to kiss
all of him the moment I have the chance. Now is not that time. It’s
his time to do what he wants to do to me. I want him to own my
body. To make it his own.

I watch him as he nibbles his way to my
breasts, strong hands wrapped underneath my back so that he can
lift me to his opened, waiting lips. Lightly brushing them against
my nipples, he kisses me and whips his tongue against the tender
dark-pink tip until I want to cry under the gorgeousness of this
feeling. Nobody’s taken this much time with them. Ever. My
neglected breasts have been merely a gateway to better things and
have felt the hurt of that, though I was unaware of it until now.
They’d become dead inside and Brendan is waking them up, spending
so long on just my left breast, tasting and kissing my nipple
there, that I relax into the feeling and experience waves of
arousal rush over me. For the first time I understand what the fuss
is all about. The delirium I feel down below is building with every
kiss. He moves to my right breast and takes the same sweet time. I
arch my back up and hungrily beg for more. He kisses and coaxes
with warm, wet kisses that make me ache. I moan, “Oh Brendan. That
feels amazing. Please don’t stop.”

I don’t expect it nor see it coming when he
enters me. Surprised by the penetrating touch against my soft
folds, I open my eyes and look at him still kissing my nipple with
his broad chest bent and his perfect stomach arched so that his
hips can reach up. My head falls back and I open to him crying out
as he slowly grinds into me one inch at a time. I am in heaven as
he reaches deeply inside me and stops to stay there a moment,
moaning against my chest. Rising, he takes charge of my mouth,
kissing me hungrily as his speed accelerates. It begins to go too
fast as is too often the eager mistake with young men. I remember
it from my college days. “Slower…” I whisper. “Slower. Yes. Just
like that.” He slows down and moans as the feelings wash over him,
the very feelings he was swept up by, take hold now that he takes
his time.

He looks at me and there’s shock behind his
need. “Yes. It feels so good. I know.” He says nothing in return
and buries his face in my neck making noises that turn my mind to
mush. Hardening inside me, I know we’re both going to burst
together. As we rock and grip each other, we both yell out at the
same time, our heads thrown back. He grimaces in disbelief as my
orgasm pulls his mercilessly to depths he’s never experienced. I
cry out into his mouth as he kisses me and pounds a few extra times
to drag it beyond anything.

We’re both gasping for air, and I know that
now something has changed in me, too. Never again will I settle for
a man who doesn’t move me like this. Never again will I marry for
just stability. I’ll make myself stable – and then make love to
Brendan until the moon falls from the sky. Thank you for helping me
remember my body can still
feel.

“You want to sleep here tonight?” he mumbles
into my hair.

I slide my fingers through his hair and kiss
the top of his head. “I’d like that.”

When we get up, he covers me with a blanket,
gives me a beer and finishes two, while we talk awhile in the
bedroom. At one point I hear something, peek out the window,
surprised when I see Jack knocking on the door to my cottage. I
close the curtains before he sees me peering at him from next door.
Brendan stares at me, his expression indecipherable.

“He’s back,” I whisper, lost for what to
do.

“Are you going to go talk to him?” Brendan
asks, frowning.

With two directions pulling at me, I stare
at the young face of the man I just made love to. I can’t leave him
here while I go talk to my soon-to-be ex. How rude would that be? I
won’t do that. Jack and I can talk later. Jack’s just reaching. He
doesn’t really want me. He wants what most people want – for
everything to stay the same.

“No. I don’t want to leave.” I sink back
onto the bed. “Tell me more about yourself, Brendan. Help me take
my mind off of… everything that’s ending.”

He considers me for awhile, silently. Then
he stands and walks to the doorframe where he leans on it. He
begins to speak about where he’s come from and where he’s going. I
learn that he started college late, wasn’t sure he wanted to go,
and then decided a degree in marketing could serve him anywhere. He
doesn’t enjoy it, but he hasn’t found his passion so for now, it’ll
bring in the necessary paycheck. Several times he stops talking and
stares at me, eyes narrowing in concentration. Like he wants to say
something. Each time, I ask him, “What?”