She was nodding, unable to speak, but her easy acquiescence skyrocketed straight to my gut.
“Fuck. This tight little cunt was made for me.” I would never tire of having this woman underneath me, her hair splayed out, her tits bouncing with each meeting of our hips. Grabbing her hands, I held them above her head, cuffing her wrists with one hand and using the other to lift her hips. I pressed my forehead against her own, slick with rain or sweat I wasn’t sure, as I invaded her, claiming her and showing her the intensity of my feelings with every smack of our skin.
“Oh, like that.” She begged before her moans turned into a drawn out groan, her face scrunching as her body began to shake with pleasure. “Your cock feels so good.”
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, hearing those dirty words from my clean-mouthed girl was my trigger as her pussy clenched and she squeezed every last drop of my cum until we were both gasping in satiated harmony.
I didn’t move off her, my lips leaving no part of her face untouched. I couldn’t bear to ask her what this meant, if this was her agreeing to come with me. The alternative was too painful to consider when we were still entwined as one.
“Jack?” She said, her eyes filling with tears again, her voice hoarse. And without any other words I knew. I knew what she was about to say and I couldn’t bear to hear it. Couldn’t bear to face the prospect of leaving her so instead, I kissed her with every ounce of passion I could muster and at some point, she stopped crying and she kissed me back. Her explanation of why she couldn’t follow me better left unsaid.
At some point late into the night we made it back to her house, some of our clothes lost to the beach where part of my heart would remain. I’d taken her again on the sand with less intensity. Our movements languid. Every touch driven by love. And again once we got back to the house – our bodies saying a goodbye we both knew was imminent. Because she wasn’t going to leave Willow Bay and she didn’t love me back.
There was no denying there were feelings there, but it wasn’t enough to break the barrier which she kept firmly around her heart.
I looked at her sleeping form and I knew I couldn’t say the words. How did I say goodbye to the woman I loved, knowing she loved me, but not enough? And why wasn’t I enough? The sadness was incomprehensible and only going to get worse – that I knew for sure.
And it was with those last thoughts and a soft kiss to her forehead that I slowly hopped out of bed and left.
Winter
Chapter Sixteen
ItwasearlywhenI woke, the morning sun warming my face through the blinds we didn’t close, too lost in our desperation and emotions to do anything other than touch, taste and take.
I wiggled back, desperate to feel his body against my own, but was met with nothing but cold space. Rolling over I opened my eyes and found the bed was empty.
“Jacky?” I called on a stretch, wondering if maybe he had snuck off to use the bathroom but there was no answer.
Lazily, I peeled the sheets back and ducked into the ensuite, but he wasn’t there. Suddenly awake, I ducked into the room where all of his things were, the room he took while he stayed here, but it hadn’t been slept in.
A feeling of dread sent my heart rate pumping as I barrelled down the stairs and into a quiet kitchen. No sign that he had ever come back last night, even his shoes normally at the door, no longer there. Racing outside, the space where his car was parked, now lay vacant and it was with the weight of the knowledge that he truly was gone that I sank to the floor in a pool of sobs.
I knew it was coming.
I knew I was too weak to go with him and he had no choice but to leave.
Again. But why when it was my decision, my choice to stay here, did it suddenly feel so suffocating. So oppressive.
Having him here was different this time in so many wonderful ways and the thought of going back to the mundanity of life was excruciating.
Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I grab life by the handles and do what I wanted? Instead I was constantly weighed down by overthinking and paranoia. What if I knew no one other than Jack and I became a nuisance to him? What if his friends hated me, or worse, ridiculed me when he wasn’t around. What if being somewhere new felt oddly discomforting, like when you forget to wear your jewellery for a day? The ambiguity alone gave me a stomach ache.
But somehow, this was worse than all of those things. This was a full body ache which started in the centre of my chest, tiny cracks splintering across every inch of my skin.
Dragging myself from the porch after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, I padded inside and headed for the stairs. Each step was laced with the sadness that came with knowing I had done this to myself.
Done this to us.
Me and my own need for control and expectedness. The comfort in knowing suddenly suffocating.
There was no cure for this kind of pain. No over the counter medication for the incorrigible emptiness his leaving had triggered.
I needed my bed.
A space where I wouldn’t need to think about how alone I suddenly felt without the chance to say goodbye.
Heading to the window to close the blinds I froze.