Data…

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” I murmured against her ear, but I didn’t try to stop her. This was Mali in a storm. I’d only seen it once before, when she confessed what’d happened to her way back when, and it scared me as much now as it had then. I knew, though, that when she broke this thoroughly, when she lost her shit this completely, it was just temporary. When she came back, it was stronger and better than ever.

“You lied to me,” she warbled into my cut and I smiled but it was a sad thing.

“I know, I’m sorry, and I swear it will never happen again.”

“What happened to no more games? Not between us?” she cried and her pain was almost more than I could bear.

“I am so fucking sorry, baby. I didn’t want to but I knew you would never agree to this long apart.”

“You promised!” she shuddered and broke down some more and I had to hand it to her, as well as I knew her, as much as I loved her, she still surprised me. Things I fully expected her to be upset over she shrugged like it wasn’t anything. Things I expected she would shrug like it wasn’t anything would stick with her and bother her to no end. I hadn’t known where this one would fall on the spectrum, but I knew now and it predictably, crushed me too.

“I know, baby, I know and I am so sorry.”

She thrust herself back from me and hit me – granted, ineffectually – twice, in the chest, pushing me back, and screamed at me, “You can’t do that to me, Kyle!”

I knew this about my Mali Rose, too. She couldn’t fight against the things that were really turning her upside down and inside out, so she was picking the thing that she could rage about; the fight that she could win. She was pouring all of the rage, frustration, and pain into that, and I let her. It was like using a thermonuclear device to kill termites, total overkill, but I got it. I got her, so I did what I was supposed to. I let her have what she needed; I let her win.

She stood there, shaking, trembling like a leaf in a storm and when I was sure that she wasn’t going to try and hit me for real, I went to her and pulled her in again. Cuddling her close, I kissed her temple and breathed her in and swore to her, “Never again.”

She nuzzled into me miserably and I smiled, knowing I’d been forgiven, even as she asked weakly, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

I waited for an accusing ‘you promised last time’ but it didn’t come, and that’s the point I could tell I was forgiven. It wasn’t precisely a game, but it was. One that I played dutifully, and had since we were kids, and one she didn’t even know she had a piece on the board for. She really, genuinely, didn’t know she did it.

“I hate that you know just what to say, sometimes,” she grumbled and I laughed and tipped her face up to mine.

“You love me just for that reason, too,” I chided and she frowned.

“Ass,” she muttered, but she didn’t stop me from kissing her, and all was right in our world again. Truce declared.

I had to guess the guys of The Kraken sort of guessed the coast was clear because the sound of the back slider opening up interrupted our kiss, which to be honest, had gone on a little longer than was polite anyway, so I couldn’t be mad about it.

“Y’ all right, darlin’?” Cutter asked and Mali nodded, the blush barely there under her deep, dark tan.

“I’m fine,” she grated.

“Good,” Marlin declared. “Means we can eat.”

I met their VP’s eyes and gave a silent nod in thanks. I’d asked in my initial email if they could make sure to eat dinner every night at the table, like a family, for Mali. I knew it meant more to her than she let on; it was another thing I’d known since we were kids. The shaggy blond man lifted half his lips in an awkward smile and gave a nod back. A silent, ‘no problem.’ Mali looked from him to me and I smiled at her and knew I was busted. She didn’t call me out, though. She just shook her head and slipped out of my arms, her hand slipping down my jacket sleeve, fingers tangling with mine. She dragged me gently to a vacant seat next to hers and we sat.

“So how long you stayin’?” Cutter asked, and it wasn’t in any way a pointed way of saying ‘get thee gone, motherfucker’ but a genuine open invitation to stay as long as we’d like, just curious as to how long that would be.

“No more than a day, two at the most,” I said. “We have a life to build back home.”

“Fair enough,” he said, adding, “Welcome to stay as long as you’d like, take a load off, by the looks of you, you’ve earned some R and R.”

I exchanged a look with Mali and the look she gave me back, plus the tightening of her fingers through mine told me clearly, she just wanted to go home. I smiled down at her; even as tired and absolutely wrung-out as I was, I couldn’t deny her. This homecoming shit was seventeen, going on eighteen years in the making.

“Thank you kindly, Cutter, but I think we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Not at all, brother,” he said passing a large bowl of salad down the table towards us. “What’re friends for, after all?”

I smiled and said, “You need anything, you damn sure know where to call.”

He grinned and shook his head, looking down the table at Mali, “Pleasure was all mine.”

She blushed again and wouldn’t make eye contact, which told me that she’d probably been a difficult little shit. I grinned and loaded both her plate and mine.

* * *

“I thought that would never end,” she said as I shut the door on the outside world and gave into that feeling that I’d grown to love. Like it was just me and her, hermetically sealed into our own space, shutting out the wild and oppressive energies out there. Turning ourselves over to the peaceful, symbiotic energy of just her and me in the same space, finding our inner peace.

Mali was a different person when it was just her and me. Like she could shake off this invisible yoke of responsibility, like she shed a cloak and let her wings unfurl. It was beautiful to watch, too. The tension and pretenses draining from her until she was just as raw and vulnerable as the next person… and that she was that way just for me.

“Come here, beautiful,” I murmured and her shoulders dropped, the tension draining from her body as she stepped barefoot and perfect across the carpet. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders and I let her take it, her eyes never leaving mine as she carefully reached out and hung it, cut and all, on a hook in the back of the door.

She got it, the respect that my colors and my brotherhood deserved; and I loved her more for that. I drew her to me, hands slipping along the light, airy fabric of her tank, appreciating how her nipples pressed against the thin material, the outline of the jewelry adorning them shimmering alluringly through it.

“I really like this,” I murmured, tracing a thumb over one pert bud.

She shivered under the light touch and pressed her thighs together, saying, “Oh yeah?”

“It’s hot, and a good look for you.”

“You know just what to say to turn me on,” she replied, her voice gone a little breathy.

“C’mere,” I whispered, my own desire rising to a slow simmer in my bloodstream. We both gravitated toward one another, making careful, unconscious baby steps into each other’s intimate space. Her lips were soft and warm beneath mine.

I smoothed my hands along her body, my hands finding the slight curve of her ass, and I gripped the back pockets of the tiny scrap of shorts she had on. I pulled her tight against me, kneading through the fabric and wishing like hell they weren’t there, no matter how long and elegant they made her legs look. The mere thought of those stems of hers twining around my hips brought my dick to stand at attention and I remembered the last time we’d made love.

I was determined not to break her this time, which just meant there needed to be a lot more foreplay, a lot more care in making her ready to take me.

She whimpered against my mouth and I marveled at this woman, this beautiful and fantastic creature. So fierce, hard, and sharp when it came to the outside world but so willing to love me and trust me behind closed doors; in the world of our own making. So willing to be soft and yielding in my arms. A real hellion in the streets and an angel in the sheets. The opposite of what most men wanted, but so very perfect for me.

“Kyle,” she whispered her tone halfway between breathy and begging as I played my lips along the side of her neck, sucking the spot behind her ear and relishing the shudder she let loose against me. She responded to my touch so beautifully and it had been a gaping hole left in my damn heart, my soul, these past six weeks that I couldn’t wait to begin to fill with all things Amalia.

“Put your legs around me, baby,” I breathed into her ear, and hands on her ass encouraged her to give that little leap. She did and the feeling of our sexes pressed together even through the layers of our mutual clothes was enough to damn near drive me insane.

I carried her to the bed and sat her on the edge, burying my fingers in that tank top I’d bought her what felt like ages ago, sweeping it up and off her sweet body, over her head, discarding it on the floor. I could tell by the heat index in her eyes that she wanted skin on skin contact as badly as I did, her hands balling in the front of my own butchered black band tee. I reached behind me and hauled the offending material over my head and let it join her shirt for some sexy times on the floor.

I loved the little sharp inhale she made when my body was revealed to her. Loved it, even more, when she didn’t hesitate, and went right for it, her lips pressing against my stomach, her tongue licking a long, hot wet line up one set of abs before moving to the other side. Tasting me like I was her fucking dessert. I let my head tip back and my breath escape in an appreciative rush, my hands capturing hers as her fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans.

“I want to,” she said, voice sure and stony. “Please don’t stop me.”

I stared down into her very serious eyes and slowly took my hands away from hers. She swallowed hard and continued her mission to free my throbbing cock from my pants.

I balled my fists at my sides as she swept the cotton of my boxers and the rough denim of my jeans down my legs. My boots and socks lay forgotten somewhere in the living room downstairs, so they weren’t in my way, but still, I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything wrong to scare her, or trigger any unwanted memories, so I held very, very, still and let her do what she wanted.

“Holy shit,” I muttered and dug nails into my palms, as without much preamble, she took me into her mouth and immediately to the root. I swallowed and my breath came in surprised pants. I hadn’t expected that, but oh, goddamn, did it feel good.

She bobbed her head gently, her small velvet tongue trailing up and down my frenulum, teasing it lightly, swirling around my head in a way that made my heart damn near seize up in my chest and my eyes roll back.

She got her long, elegant fingers involved, wrapping them around my shaft with just the right amount of pressure, stroking rhythmically along with her mouth’s attentions. I swallowed hard and moaned, planting my palms flat against my lower back and ass to keep from doing what I really wanted to do, which was touch her head.

Instead, I fought the rising urge to do it by speaking, saying, “Oh yeah, baby… that feels so good. Just like that.” I sucked a breath in between gritted teeth and fought down the urge to come. She had me on that fucking razor’s edge, man; and I didn’t know if it was okay or not. I hated to kill the mood by asking, so instead, I went the route any other red blooded alpha male would. I stopped her, gripping her upper arms lightly and pulling my cock from her mouth by drawing back my hips.

“Stand up,” I ordered and used a tone that should brook no argument, but with Mali, you never knew.

She got to her feet, like a puppet drawn by strings and oh god, that turned me on. Knowing I was the damn puppeteer to a woman who was as fierce as she? Goddamn. Power flooded my veins and I ripped open her shorts and sent them cascading down her legs, my balls tightening, my cock twitching at the sight of no panties.

I pushed her back onto the bed and she collapsed willingly with a dark smile that spoke to my own. I let it rise and fill my eyes, wrapping my arms around her thighs, dragging her body so her ass was at the very edge of the bed, the glistening flower of her sex begging to be defiled, but that was a game for another night. Right now, I wanted to worship my woman for the goddess she was, so I went to my knees instead.

Her scent was heady and intoxicating, her flavor like nothing else I’d ever had cross my tongue as I lapped at her center, finding that jewel I knew would spark fire in her eyes and teasing it with the tip. I wiggled my tongue back and forth over it to send pleasing vibrations through her core. The passion in her eyes deepened, the glow of her desire something else to behold until she couldn’t stand it anymore, her head tipping back and a deep, throaty sound of satisfaction escaping her long and lovely throat.

Her legs twitched, spasming to either side of my head, telling me I had her close. I delved my hands up underneath her back, cradling her in my arms as I drove my tongue into her pussy, lapping at her. She cried out and arched into the support of my arms, her fingers digging into the bedspread, balling it into fists to the side of either hip. She was gonna come, so I took a deep breath and flicked my tongue over her clit one more time, twice, and it was like she was an arrow let fly.

I expected it, but it was still pretty satisfying. Her legs snapped closed around my ears and her body writhed. I let her have my tongue, laying it flat against her as her writhing hips did all the work for me, running her sex, top to bottom, bottom to the top against it.

Jesus fuck, I could eat her pussy all day if this were the kind of reaction I would get. She lay serene, her fingernails scratching against my scalp lightly, fingers tangled in my hair and I stood, knees cracking loudly, climbing her body with elegant little kisses until I could lay over the top of her and whisper in her ear, “How do you feel?”

You know you’ve done your job when all she can muster in response is a throaty little laughing moan ending on a whimper. Of course, I upped the ante by bodily manhandling her onto the bed laying on it length wise so I could fuck her.

I went into the pocket of my jeans and came up with the three condom chain I’d kept handy just for this eventuality. I knew she was on the implant, but she’d already had a late period when she’d come down here. Like over a week late, and concerning as all get out. She’d eventually started, but for a second there, I thought we’d be starting our family sooner than I’d like… I mean, I didn’t know if I really wanted kids. I know that when we were teens, Mali hadn’t wanted kids, but she could have changed her mind sometime in that seventeen years. At any rate, she chalked up being late to stress, which I could believe, and we had agreed on condoms from now on.

I tore off one of the foil packets and she writhed a little on the bed in anticipation, watching me slide it on. Another conversation we’d had as teens… a detail that’d stuck with me. She said she thought she’d think it was hot, watching a boy put the condom on himself before sex. That she didn’t know why, but she always fantasized about it. It’d instantly become part of every fantasy and every sexual encounter I’d had since.

I rolled it down my length, making sure it was snug against the base of my shaft, and lay over the top of her, bodies pressed tightly together, her breasts pressed flat against my chest, her barbells digging just a little and I liked the sensation. I looked her in the eyes as I slid into her, slowly, deliberately, and it was seriously like coming home.