Ava
I wake this morning like I’ve woken every other morning for the past six weeks since the kids got home: with Jesse pressed into my back, his lips kissing down my spine slowly and lazily. It’s blissful, mind-blanking. And, as always, I melt under the warmth of his mouth rousing me from my dreams. I close my eyes again and let him take me to paradise, let my body soften, and let my senses take over. The friction of our skin rubbing together takes me from warm to blazing. The feel of his morning arousal brushing my thighs and arse takes me from wanting to silently begging. The feel of his breath layering every part of my skin it touches takes me from hungry to starving. I reach back, pushing my fingers through his morning mess of hair, sighing my contentment, bowing my body into his.
‘Morning, lady,’ he murmurs between nibbles of my shoulder, rolling his hips into my arse. ‘You ready for me?’
‘Always.’ It’s the truth. My body responds to him instinctively. My need for him is unrelenting.
One sharp thrust puts him inside me, deep and high, my fingers gripping his hair as I cry out, his teeth nipping my flesh as he grunts. I’m floating. I feel like I’m on cloud nine, just seconds after waking, and I know that’s Jesse’s intention each morning. To start my day being reminded of how wonderful we are. It really isn’t necessary.
I look at this man and sizzle inside. I listen to him, no matter what he’s saying, and take huge comfort from the deep baritone of his rough voice. I feel him touch me and just know we were always incomplete without each other. We are one.
Our bodies move in perfect sync, flowing together softly and carefully, like they’re so familiar with each other. Because they are. I could never question the sense of right when we’re intimate like this, even on my bad days, when frustration gets the better of me, when a whole day passes without so much as a speck of a memory to encourage me on.
Those days have turned into weeks. It’s been six weeks without anything, no memory, no flashbacks, leaving me with only the scraps of what I have, of what I built before my brain decided to grind to a halt where my past is concerned. Like a cork has been wedged in the hole, stopping the flow. It hasn’t escaped Jesse’s notice. His keen eyes are always watching me, his ears always listening. I’ve given him nothing for weeks. I can see the disappointment on his face no matter how hard he tries to disguise it with love.
I feel under pressure. The only relief I’m getting is when we’re making love, when he manages to blank my mind completely, or when I go to yoga with Zara. She’s still unaware of my accident and condition, and that’s great, because she’s my other source of escape. I never feel like I’m disappointing her. I never feel like she’s looking at me as if I should know something. My new friend is respite that I so need.
I know Jesse and I are building new memories, wonderful memories, but every day I still stare at that huge wall of photographs in the family room and wonder where the hell it’s all gone.
‘Stop it,’ he whispers, pulling out sharply and flipping me onto my back. My heavy gaze lifts to his green eyes, eyes that scream a thousand emotions each time I look into them, reflecting worry back at me this morning. ‘We’re still us. We still have the children. I still love you, and you still love me. That’s all that matters.’ On a swivel of his tight hips, he enters me again, falling to his forearms. The weight of him calms me, reminding me that I may have lost many memories of this man, but at least I still have him in the flesh. The unrelenting pain that strikes me when I think of being without him is enough to tell me that where I am is where I’m supposed to be. Not that I need a reminder. Not when every fibre of my being is telling me so.
I reach for his back and run my palms across the tight planes, feeling him. ‘That’s all I need,’ I affirm, swallowing when he withdraws slowly, purposely slowly, his eyes on mine as he drives forward again, exact and smooth.
‘Nothing can break us.’ He sweeps in and takes my mouth gently, and my legs come up to his waist to hold him everywhere I can. ‘That’s it, baby. Hold tight.’ The change in pace, from grinds to deep drives, has me struggling to maintain our kiss, my tongue becoming erratic in its movements, almost frenzied.
‘You nearly there?’ He pulls back, not needing an answer, but wanting to see my face when I tip the edge. Wedging his fists into the mattress, he ups the ante, mixing plunges with swivels, flexing sharply and then slowly. I’m lost in him, amazed through my pleasure of the heights he takes me to. To the places where I can forget. Where nothing exists except him and me and the passion we share.
The sweat on his brow sparkles in the dusky light, his face beginning to strain as my release surges forward and detonates, instantly making me shake with the force, the tingling sensations too much, my flesh too sensitive. And he knows, because his movements stop and he puts pressure where I need it, stemming the sensitivity, as he comes hard, his roar suppressed, his face red with the pressure of blood rushing to his head. My internal walls grab him greedily and milk him dry, the heat of his essence pouring deeply into me.
Jesse drops onto me in a heap of exhausted male, crowding me, still buried deep, where he will be for the next ten minutes while he snoozes on me, sporadically nuzzling and kissing my wet neck, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. And I hold him and savour the moment I cherish each morning before I have to get up and face my day.
I breathe into his shoulder as we settle, constricting him, getting him as close as I possibly can. In my own silent way, I’m telling him that I’m happy to remain where I am. It’s not like I have much else to do. Work isn’t on the cards for me just yet.
I tried a few weeks ago, convinced Jesse to let me go back to my office, and he did, albeit reluctantly. It took just ten minutes for me to realise I was out of my depth – ten minutes of staring at the paperwork on my desk, ten minutes of Jesse watching me from the couch while I demanded my brain to tell me what to do, and ten failed attempts to enter my password on the computer, before I finally crumpled and gave in to the fact that I was of no use at the club.
I didn’t like it, not one little bit, and it wasn’t only because I felt so useless. That woman who works for us can’t keep her eyes off Jesse, and I could see clearly that my presence wasn’t welcome. I squeeze my eyes, trying to remember her name. Small things, simple things that I’m learning are slipping from my memory as fast as they’re put there. Like names. Cherry. I exhale, thanking my brain for giving me the information I’m looking for. I only wish it would give me my memories, too.
Am I any use at all? I scold myself the moment I question my worth, because there’s one valuable job I’m doing. Being a mum as best I can, though I sometimes question my ability there. Like when Jacob brought home some simple maths homework. Simple equations that I know how to solve from my school days, way before the cut-off in my memory. Yet I couldn’t do them. My brain simply wouldn’t work.
And like when Maddie and I went shopping for a dress for Raya and Drew’s wedding. I picked out many outfits, and each one was rejected. I didn’t even know my daughter’s style. That day is one I’d like to forget, made worse by the fact that when we flagged a taxi to take us home, I couldn’t even remember our damn address. It was gone, out of my head like Jesse hadn’t repeated it to me a thousand times in recent weeks. Thankfully, my daughter saved me.
But she couldn’t save me from the wrath of her father when we rolled up in a taxi. I was supposed to call him to collect us, but I had hoped that I could use the ride home to shed my melancholy mood. I did a good job, until Jesse went off the handle. And then I folded, crying, while Maddie showed her father her wrath. It’s all so fraught. We’re all tinkering on the edge of complete meltdown, and my stupid fucking memory is the cause, my brain’s refusal to give me what I need, what we all need, to carry on with our lives with any sense of normality.
And then there are the moments like just now. Moments when my brain is wiped clean of the shit tarnishing it. Moments when Jesse helps me escape. And there are moments with Maddie and Jacob. Moments when I look at those beautiful kids and try to come to terms with the fact that they are mine. How lucky I am. How wonderful they are, how they can make me smile even on my darkest days. Their little jokes about their father, how they relay the stories they know of our love affair. I could listen to them for hours.
‘That’s enough of the downheartedness today.’ His voice, muffled in my neck, is still stern. ‘It’s Raya’s hen night tonight.’
I’m surprised he’s reminded me. I just know he’s battling his instinct to hold me back. To not let me go. And I know he’s read Kate her rights. Silly man. That woman hasn’t had a drink for nearly a year. She’ll be even more ravenous for some girlie time and alcohol than I am.
‘You mean to say you’re releasing me for the night?’ I tease. I shouldn’t poke him. I’m looking forward to this evening so much, just to spend some time with Kate. If he withdraws his consent, there will be fireworks.
Emerging from his hiding place, he cocks one eyebrow, his lips forming a straight, displeased line. ‘Are you testing me?’
I stiffen when his hand slides to my hip. ‘Never,’ I say, quickly holding my breath. He gets me every time. I don’t have a hope of fighting him off, his powerful body laughing in the face of my small frame.
‘And you will be sensible, won’t you?’ A tiny dig of his wicked fingers into my flesh jolts me, and I nod frantically. ‘And you will stay in contact with me, won’t you?’ Another dig, and another jerk of my body and head. ‘And before you leave, you’re going to let me pin you down and come all over your gorgeous boobs, aren’t you?’
I can’t find it in me to agree. Not that he desires my agreement. He does what he damn well likes when he damn well likes. ‘You want to mark me?’
‘Actually, you like to mark me.’ He points down to his pec. ‘I miss it.’
I can’t help my frown. ‘Miss what?’
‘The tidy little bruise on my chest that has kept me company for the past twelve years. I feel a little incomplete without it.’ The slight tilt of his head spells out his want. ‘Suck, baby.’ He rolls over and points to the area he wants me.
I’m bemused, but I’m getting kind of used to some of the bizarre shit I’m learning about our marriage. And to be fair, I won’t deny myself a few more minutes of us in bed together. So I straddle his waist and latch onto his solid flesh, sucking him into my mouth as I look up through my lashes to his satisfied face. The man is a nut. And so am I, since I’m going along with all the madness he throws at me. ‘Happy?’ I ask, inspecting the perfect purple circle.
‘Delirious.’ He gets up off the bed and tucks me in. ‘I’ll sort the kids for school.’
I watch him pull on some boxers before he leaves the room, my eyes nailed to his solid back until he disappears.
I relax and think forward to tonight. I need a good drink. To numb myself of feeling. And that’s just what I plan to do.