Alive
Keelie
“Asa, please,” I beg for something—anything.
The moment he made sure my kids and Emma were asleep and Levi was settled, he came to me. After locking my bedroom door, he had me out of my clothes and in my bed in record time.
But he still has his clothes on and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to move things along. I have an issue with both.
He nips at my bare hip. “Not yet, baby.”
Danielle stayed until mid-evening. Once she was here a while, she proved to be a kind, yet concerned, woman and mother. She offered to help make dinner, and as weird as the whole situation was, it sort of wasn’t. She didn’t seem to care that Asa made no bones about the fact he and I are whatever we are. She thanked me over and over for welcoming her kids into my home. She clearly misses them and, seriously, who wouldn’t be concerned about their child being the victim of a drive-by? She finally tore herself away from Levi and Emma when I started getting Knox and Saylor ready for bed.
When she left, Asa got Saylor to read in his normal, sweet, no-nonsense way that seems to do the trick. Saylor didn’t complain and even lost track of time. It was a complete phenomenon.
“Why,” I breathe and lift my hips as I stare at my ceiling, “do you still have your clothes on?”
“Because.” He licks his way up my stomach, taking time to pull a nipple between his teeth while pinching the other, making me even wetter than I was. Holy shit, he needs to hurry. When he moves up to my mouth, his kiss is commanding as he runs his fingers through my core. “I plan on going slow and getting to know your body. I plan on touching you everywhere and making you come on my tongue. Tonight, baby, I plan on memorizing you.”
I exhale a little moan against his lips, because him memorizing me sounds like something I could be okay with.
“Keelie?” he calls for me between kisses.
“Hmm?” His fingers are moving and my breathing is becoming labored.
“Just lay back and enjoy it.”
When I open my eyes, all I see are his hazel ones framed by dark lashes, and even darker features shadowed by the low light. Even though he has me well on my way to spinning out of control, I drag my hands up to his face and hold him close.
“Asa?”
“Yeah, baby?” He angles his head enough to plant a kiss on the palm of my hand.
I have to tell him. Or, I have to try and express something—that I’m grateful for what he’s done, what he’s doing, and for all he’s promised. Because before he changed that flat tire—however long ago that was—I had gotten to a point where I was fine. I was satisfied with being fine. My small family—the three of us—were okay. We managed, we were mostly happy, and we had each other.
But since Asa stormed into my life, forcing his way in, insisting on being here—I’ve been different. And this kind of different is a good thing.
I whisper, “Thank you.”
He looks back to me and smirks. “I haven’t done anything yet, baby.”
My hands on his face tense and I give my head a shake, barely hearing my own voice. “No. For making me feel alive.”
He freezes, I feel it everywhere since he’s on top of me. Then his fingers brush through my hair and his eyes roam my face, searching my features. “Alive?”
I lean up to kiss him. “Life has strangled me for years, but you barge in, change a tire, and I find myself gasping for air for the first time in forever. My heart pounds so hard I feel it in every inch of my body. You make me desperate for it and, because I’m me, I’m afraid it’ll go away.”
He frowns and gives me more of his weight, pressing his hard cock into me, still encased in jeans to enunciate his words. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You said that last night,” I note and slide my leg up to wrap it around his ass so he won’t move away.
His eyes narrow as he runs a hand down my body, landing on my ass where he gives me a squeeze. “You’re lying here under me bare and you don’t believe me?”
I pause and exhale. “I know I should believe you.”
“But you don’t.” It’s a statement, not a question.
I guess that means he’s figuring me out. It’s not that I didn’t warn him.
He presses into me again, the rough denim biting into my sensitive skin. Even that makes me want more when he asks, “Do you trust me?”
I wrap my other leg around him. “I do.”
“You trust me but you don’t believe me?”
I give him a tiny wince and shrug as best I can while pinned to my bed, because it sounds worse when said aloud.
He shakes his head. “You are fucked up.”
My eyes close. “I’m sorry.”
“Baby.” He fists my hair to get my attention and l look to him. He’s not frowning any longer. His expression is hot and his hold on my hair tightens, pulling my head back, creating access to my neck. His lips land on my collarbone and his words are mumbled on my skin. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I’ll just have to prove it to you.” He tilts my head back and his lips are touching mine when he looks into my eyes.
“Oh shit,” I breathe and close my eyes.
“You asked for it,” he says against my skin and works his way down my body. “You just can’t be too loud.”
And he does exactly what he promised. He memorizes me. Touching every inch of my body, teasing me, making me crazy, driving me mad. I’ve been flipped over twice, tasted, caressed, and so madly seduced, that by the time he settled himself between my legs, I needed to be put out of my misery in the worst way.
A misery so sweet, he has me panting and squirming and begging.
“Asa, I can’t take it anymore.”
His big hands are splayed on the insides of my thighs, pushing my legs high and wide to keep me where he wants me. Torturing me with his tongue, he licks slowly from my entrance to my clit, flicking it once, finally giving me attention where I want it most.
“Not yet.” I feel the breath of his words on me as he laps me one more time.
“Please,” I drawl, trying to move, lift my hips, shift—anything.
I don’t know if he feels sorry for me or if he’s just ready to move things along, but I finally get his mouth—all of it. I try to be quiet, but it’s exactly what I need. I moan and writhe, coming almost instantly as Asa sucks and nips. He lets go of one leg and fills me with three fingers, fucking me as my orgasm slinks over every inch of me.
Because of the out-of-body experience Asa just provided, I feel it when I start coming down. The pounding of my heart reminding me I’m here, I’m more than just a single-mom, a widow, and the owner of more fucking goats than I know what to do with, who’s living with a million unfinished home-improvement projects.
I feel like me and that hasn’t happened for a really long time.
Reaching for him so I can have his touch back, I open my eyes to find him kneeling on the bed. He’s ripping his shirt over his head, and after he tosses it to the floor, his fingers make quick work of his jeans. Pushing them down just enough, I get a good look at him for the first time. I knew his cock was big from how he filled me last night and how I felt where he’d been this morning—and I was right. I can’t tear my eyes away. It’s standing at attention—hard, veined, and bobbing as he leans forward to grab my hand.
“Come here,” he demands and pulls me to him.
I wobble to my knees and move closer to wrap my hands around his length for the first time. He stills under my touch, but I don’t let go.
Dipping his fingers into my now-crazy hair, his voice rumbles, “Just seeing your small hands wrapped around my dick makes me want to explode, baby.”
I lean my head into his hands, and give him a squeeze, milking his cock. Just the feel of him and thinking about him filling me, fucking me, possessing me—has me needy all over again.
His eyes get heavy and he reaches for me under my arms. I could sit here for hours and touch him, but he doesn’t give me the chance. Still kneeling, he drags me up his body. I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist, and with one swift and rough movement, he yanks me down, impaling me.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He holds me to him and I draw my knees up higher to sink farther. Pressing into me, he looks straight into my eyes and promises, “I’ll prove it to you. I swear.”
I wrap my hand around his neck and put my lips to his. “This is enough. Feeling like this, I don’t need more.”
“You think that, but you’re wrong.” He pulls out to pump into me again. “I’ll prove it to you.”
“Just fuck me, Asa. Make me feel alive.” I take a couple deep breaths and mean it with all my heart. “Please.”
He jerks me down hard on his cock and his jaw hardens, his eyes boring into mine. He takes my mouth like I’m his air and he needs it to sustain himself another second. Bending at the waist, we both come down to the bed with a jolt. Asa continues to kiss me, the scruff of his short beard scraping across my face as he starts to pound into me. My nails bite into his shoulders to hold on, every muscle in my legs taut around him to take every delicious thrust.
Just when another orgasm starts to creep up my spine, Asa pulls out and growls, “Turn over.”
I barely have the chance to take in his command, let alone move, when he grabs me by my hips and flips me. Before I know it, I’m on my knees, cheek to the bed with my ass in the air, and he slides back in. Still on his knees between my spread ones, he does just as I asked.
He fucks me.
Hard.
Intense.
Deep. So deep.
And I love it. Every fucking second of it.
When he slams into me the last time, he falls forward and my knees give out. Still inside, he gives me all his weight as he puts a hand to my chin and I get his eyes.
Breathing hard, he doesn’t kiss me, but I feel his lips move on mine when he pledges, “This is good, but there’s more, baby. I promise you that. I’ll fucking prove it to you.”
He presses into me one more time before pulling out, pushing away from the bed, heading to my bathroom. Even though I’m spent, I miss his warmth as I come down from all the sexcapades and angry promises.
I lie here recovering, because he gave me everything I asked for. I not only feel alive, but I have a feeling that tomorrow I’m going to feel where he’s been.
*****
“Are you still journaling?” Dr. Graystone asks, probably to break the silence.
I shrug, not looking at him. “If you want to call it that.”
I hear him shift in his seat. “We’ve been sitting here for over ten minutes and you’ve been staring out my window the whole time. We should talk. Tell me how you’ve been.”
I look away from the budding trees. It’s Thursday. The Thursday after the Friday I was shot, and the Thursday after Asa moved himself and his children into my house, and the Thursday after Asa and I started having sex.
Lots and lots of sex.
He’s also been chauffeuring me, my kids, and his kids everywhere. I’m not quite sure how he’s managing all of our schedules, and I’m glad he earned all the money he did as an assassin, because as far as I know, he hasn’t worked a minute all week. If he’s not getting us from point A to point B safely, he’s been looking for the people who shot at Emma and me with no luck, which is why he’s playing chauffeur. Right now, Levi and Emma are at the house with my kids while Ozzie stands guard out front.
Asa doesn’t fuck around.
In fact, he’s waiting in the next room for me as I sit here not talking to the therapist I hired because of my dumbass, dead husband.
How is this my life?
“I went on a date.” It slips out of my mouth, but I guess it’s the beginning. No better place to start.
Dr. Graystone’s eyes light up, a mix of surprise and happiness spread through his features as if I was a baby, taking my first steps in life. “That’s great. Tell me about it.”
I shrug. “It was awful. Horrid, really.”
His face falls. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you should be proud you put yourself out there. It’s a big step, Keelie.”
Feeling talkative for the first time since I got here, I decide to get my two-hundred and seventy-five-dollars worth, even if insurance is paying for most of it. “I also met another man. That man and his two teenage children are now living in my home. I’ve met his ex-wife. She’s nice.” I shrug and decide to throw it all out there. “Oh, and I was shot. It happened when I was a target of a drive-by shooting.”
Dr. Graystone is no longer happy, but I do think I’ve upped the surprise in his features to an all-time high. He does his best to be professional and mask it, but I see it all the same. He fidgets in his seat, uncrosses one leg just to cross the other, and starts to scribble the mess that has become my life down on his notepad.
I bet he doesn’t have many patients out here in the country who’ve been shot at or grazed. Since I’ve never known anyone who’s been shot at, this doesn’t surprise me. Besides Asa. He told me the other night he’s been shot at.
But he’s a retired assassin. I should have assumed that.
Fuck me. My life is a mess.
When Dr. Graystone looks up, he tries to clarify what I’m pretty sure was clear the first time, as he frowns. “So, you were shot? By a bullet? From a gun?”
I nod. “Grazed is the term the ex-Marine-EMS guy used. Since he was a Marine, he would probably know.” I pull my shirt down below my shoulder where my wound is healing nicely to prove it. I’m sure I’ll have a scar as a party favor to remember the day forever. “See? I still have the stitches to prove it.”
He nods thoughtfully. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
That’s an understatement.
“And I’m having sex.”
He nods one more time and looks down to scribble some more. “You’ve had a busy month since we last met. Anything else?”
I pull in a big breath. “Nope. That’s pretty much it.”
He scribbles more notes. I’m giving him plenty of material should he ever want to write a book about his career in therapy.
He looks back up. “Where do you want to start?”
My eyes glide back to the window. “Everything is sort of haywire right now.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me about this man who’s living in your home and whom you’re having sex with. I assume it’s the same person.”
I nod and start at the beginning, telling him about my last couple weeks and answering his questions as we go. I’m never quite sure how I feel about Dr. Graystone besides disliking him solely for the reason that brought me to him to begin with. I guess my last year and a half with him has helped. I can see where I am now compared to where I started. But he asks me questions I don’t like answering—it makes these appointments a chore and something I dread. I should consider not coming anymore.
He continues to scribble notes as I continue to blather about my life.
When I come to the end, I pick up my water and take a big drink as he asks, “Aside from the shoot-outs, stitches, and teenager school drama, are you happy with this man?”
“Happy?” I twist the lid to my water bottle between my fingers. There’s been so much going on, Asa and I just happened in the middle of it. I’ve never bothered to think if I was happy. “I suppose.”
“You suppose? I think it’s important for you not only to know, but to allow yourself those feelings. When you first started coming to me your anger and frustration about David were very strong—”
I frown and cut him off quickly. “They don’t even compare.”
He sits his notebook down on the coffee table in front of him and leans back in his chair. “Maybe we should compare them.”
“David and I were well on the road to divorce, so, yes, my feelings about him were strong. He lied repeatedly and all but bankrupted us. I know it’s ironic the only way I got out of that mess was because of his insurance policies after he was killed. You know this. But Asa is nothing like David. If you want me to say I’m happy—I am. You just caught me off guard. Events have moved things along quickly and I’m adjusting.”
“It’s a lot, Keelie. My job is to make sure you’re healthy going forward, especially in a new relationship. You’ve not only had trust issues, but suffered deeply from a fear of loss—of losing others and for your children losing you. Does this Asa know that about you?”
I divert my eyes again, because it’s questions like these I hate. Asa knows I’m a mess, but I’m not quite sure he grasps my unrealistic fears. I can tell myself they’re senseless and improbable all day long, but in the end, they’ve been crippling me for a long time. It doesn’t matter how hard I’ve tried to let them go.
“Keelie?”
I lie. “He knows.”
“As long as he understands what you went through with David, before and after his death. If this new man is going to fill any type of role in your life—"
“Stop right there,” I interrupt. “I’m not auditioning anyone to fill any roles in my life. He’s different. He’s better—better than anyone I’ve ever been with.” I look at the clock strategically placed on the wall behind me. Standing because our time is almost up, I go to the door. I’m sick of being here. But before I open it, I turn to him and find him standing as well. “I’m good, Dr. Graystone. I mean, aside from being shot, I’m good. The mention of Asa Hollingsworth shouldn’t be uttered in the same sentence as my lying dead husband. I won’t stand for it.”
*****
Asa
I run my hand through my hair and toss the magazine I haven’t been reading to the coffee table. This has been the longest fucking hour I’ve ever sat through.
Especially since I know my name is probably being mentioned in there. If she hasn’t talked about me, I’m sure she’s talked about getting shot while sitting in my fucking driveway. I’ll never get over that. I have no idea who this therapist is, but this whole thing makes me edgy. She’s had a lot to deal with in the last week. She explained that she has this standing monthly appointment and told me it was nothing to worry about.
The kids and I have been living in her house for almost a week. Unless everyone’s at school or practice, they’re with me because I’m not any closer to finding out who shot up my house or what the fuck’s going on with Emma. She’s as closed off as ever and I’m so desperate, I’m thinking about getting her a damn puppy since nothing else I’m doing seems to work. Levi and Emma fly out to see Danielle tomorrow and I’m only letting them go because they’ll be across the country. Whatever threat is lurking won’t reach them there.
Which is why Danielle brought it up again that she wants them in California. When she mentioned it to the kids while she was here, Levi had a come-apart and Emma reverted further. Danielle and I had words after that—she needs to keep that shit between us and not stress out the kids. There’s no fucking way I’m letting them go now. Spending time with Knox and Saylor makes me realize what I missed out on with my own kids all those years. Knox is smarter than he realizes and Saylor has such a strong will and a big heart, I feel an attachment already. I might have made an effort with them in the beginning because of their mom, but now it’s about them.
But their mom is a different story. I’m living in her house, sleeping in her bed, and we’re fucking the hell out of each other every night and some mornings. Even though she hasn’t given me the go ahead, I’ve kissed her in front of her kids, making no bones about the fact we’re more than friends. Keelie was hesitant but didn’t argue and we’ve never discussed it. We plan our days around one another, get ready in the mornings together, eat together, and spend time with all the kids together.
When it comes right down to it—she’s mine, but she’s not.
I don’t know what to do about that.
Just when I was about to look at my watch again, the door opens and there she is. I stand instantly and when her eyes find mine, she exhales as if she’s been holding her breath the whole time we were separated.
Not knowing what to expect, I lift my chin and hold my hand out for her. Thank fuck, she comes straight to me, takes my hand, and doesn’t stop. Pressing her front to my side, she leans up and, since we’ve done it enough over the past week, I know what she wants. Meeting her halfway, I take her mouth for a chaste kiss and ask, “You okay?”
She nods. “It’s late. I need to get home and make dinner.”
I’ll stop on the way to pick something up so she doesn’t have to cook, but I don’t want to have that argument here. Looking over her head, I see a man standing in the doorway.
“Next month, Keelie?” he asks.
She looks over her shoulder and doesn’t answer, but gives her head a little shake with a weird shrug. “I’ll call.”
He nods. “Very well, then. Have a nice evening.”
I put my arm around her shoulders to get her the fuck out of there. This is a weird sensation. I’m used to knowing what I want to know. If there’s information I need—I get it. I don’t like it when I don’t have control, and right now, not knowing what’s going on in her head, I sense she’s on the edge. I need to figure out why.
I direct her out of the office with a rock in my gut.