Chapter Eighteen - Maddie & Tyler
MADDIE
I just blink at him. I feel like I do that a lot with Tyler. Like he’s an ever-moving maze, a puzzle I’m trying to find my way through. “What?”
“Too far?” He winces.
And then I laugh. Because, well, the joke was funny if you were there. And I was.
“See,” he says, kissing my lips, then giving one a little nip with his teeth. “I am funny. At least, I’m your kind of funny.”
I reach up, place both my hands on each side of his face, and smile. “Thank you,”
“For…? Because I think I should be thanking you right about now.”
“Later,” I say, letting my hands fall to his shoulders. Because I have a very long answer for his question and now isn’t the time. I dig my nails in the hard muscles of his back, just enough to make him draw in a breath and close his eyes for one prolonged moment.
He opens them back up. The joking is gone and the wild side is back.
I like his jokes, don’t get me wrong. Tyler Morgan is as witty as they come. Always has been and I absolutely love that about him. But sometimes I just want the raw and the real.
Like now.
I climb into his lap and he adjusts the both of us so he can lean back against the hard, jagged rock wall. It’s gotta hurt—all those ragged edges digging into his skin—but maybe he doesn’t feel pain? Or maybe he likes it?
I lift my hips up, letting that thought trail away for another time too, and reach for his cock. “We’re not done yet,” I say.
“Not even close,” he whispers back. Our eyes are locked as I position him underneath me, our breathing matched. We smile simultaneously. And then I lower myself down on top of him.
I want to close my eyes as he enters me again. And the fact that he’s playing with the tail as this happens makes it almost impossible to keep them open. But I do keep them open. I don’t want to miss a single second of this.
“Relax,” I say. “I got this now.”
He chuckles a little. “I’m about as relaxed as it gets, Maddie.”
“Not quite,” I say, placing the tip of my finger above his eye and softly tracing downward so he has to close it. Being Tyler, he complies. Sorta. Because the other eye stays open in a wink. Which is cute, and adorable, and so genuinely him, I want to laugh. But I don’t. I just close the other eye too, then lean into his neck and whisper, “Let me take care of you now.”
He huffs out a little bit of air, but he doesn’t open his eyes. So I start moving on top of him. My hips slowly rocking forward and back, my clit skimming against his lower abs just enough to drive myself wild without meaning to.
I grab his shoulders again just as his hands squeeze both my ass cheeks, trying to pull me forward. Trying to get deeper inside me.
The fur of the fox tail brushes against my skin, and the feeling of being filled up from both ends is starting to make me crazy for him again, but I suck in a breath, hold it, and stay calm as I hover above him, just slightly, just enough to deny his silent request.
“You’re fucking torturing me,” he says, hands on my hips now, urging me to just sit down. Let him fully inside me.
“No,” I say. “I’m making you slow down, that’s all. Take a look around. Enjoy it, moment by moment.”
The hiss of air he exhales has a touch of frustration in it. But only a touch. Because sometimes slow is good. Sometimes you just gotta let go. And he knows this is one of those times.
It’s perfect. I mean, nothing’s perfect, but this feels perfect. Like all the bad stuff is gone now. Like we’ve got a handle on all this shit. Like maybe… maybe we’re even in it together.
Which would be nice, for once. To have a partner. To rely on someone. To know I’m not alone.
I bet he feels that way too.
I continue to move my hips, letting him stay inside me, but not giving in completely. Not yet. My fingertips thread up through his hair as I lean down into his neck and begin to kiss. His earlobe, which makes him sigh. Then down his neck until I’m kissing the base of his throat.
He holds absolutely still, his large hands gripping my ass in a hard squeeze. Maybe it’s because my position has him deeper inside me? Maybe it’s because it feels so good, he just goes with it? Kinda surrenders. Or maybe it’s because he wants to remember this moment for later? Burn it into his brain and keep it there like a good-luck charm.
That’s why I go still.
I want to hold this moment in my head forever.
“Maddie,” he says.
But I keep kissing him, letting my name fade into the darkness.
His eyes remain closed, but his hands begin to move me, his firm grip on my hips pushing me forward, then back. Forward, then back. It’s enough to drive me crazy because each time my clit slides along his skin.
I bow my head and give in, just like he did. Sink my forehead into his chest as his lips find my neck now. He kisses me as I remain still. He rocks us back and forth as I breathe through the slow-building excitement inside me.
It’s not hard and fast, like the other times we’ve fucked. It’s something else. Something softer. Something natural. A lazy, easy motion that feels more like the rocking of a boat than the crashing of thunder.
He’s relaxed. Maybe for the first time since we’ve become reacquainted. Totally at ease down here in this dark tunnel.
This is different. Something more than fucking. Something better than sex.
This is… maybe… love?
Maybe this is what it feels like?
If you’d have asked me if this slow motion would be enough to make me come before I met Tyler all those weeks ago, I’d have laughed. Sex was something physical. Something hard and fast. An act completed hastily in an alley or a hotel bedroom.
And even though we’ve done it that way, and those times were all great, this… this isn’t that. This is more. And the climax I didn’t think possible is building. Not because our bodies are merged, but because our emotions are.
“God. Dammit,” Tyler whispers.
I know what he means. Goddammit. This is something new. Something unexpected. Something we both seem to need. And want, too.
He bites my ear, then my neck. One of his hands lets go of my hip to play with the fox tail, moving it in and out. Making me gasp and hold my breath as the feeling of both his cock and the plug rubbing against each other inside me take hold of all those slow, easy thoughts. Because… you know, sex is still sex. It makes you do things you don’t have to think about. Becomes primal. Basic instinct. Just desire and…
“Maddie,” he says, his chest moving up and down quickly, like there’s not enough air to fuel him.
“Come,” I whisper into his ear. “Just come. Inside me. Right now.”
He moans out. Just a grunt. But it’s a yes, and that’s all I needed to know.
I let go of everything as he stiffens. I let go of the past, and the present. I think about nothing but us, together, in this moment. I don’t care that it means something. It doesn’t matter.
I. Just. Let. Go.
I feel him release inside me. Slick heat as his cock throbs against the walls of my pussy.
And that’s it. I am there. With him. Waves of pleasure shiver up my body, making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
And I feel… I feel like somehow… heaven has touched me.
Tyler Morgan has found my filthy soul and washed it clean.
He caught me, mid-fall, and lifted me back up with him.
Yes. That’s exactly how I feel.
TYLER
With her sitting in my lap, staring at me, flooded in our shared desire, I see my whole, rotten life reflected in her eyes. In her knowledge of me. In who I was. In who I am. In who I might one day be. Our connection with each other is as ancient as the sodden shelter that hosts us, as strong as the power it generates, and as beautiful and complicated as the machinery that keeps it all at bay.
In other words… Shit just got real as fuck.
“Thanks,” I say.
She nods. “You’re welcome. Thank—”
“Pleasure’s mine.” I cut her off.
Smiles are shared. Smiles turn into giggles. Giggles turn into laughs. And laughs turn into me saying, “Sorry, sorry, I need you to hop off, you’re gonna break my nuts.”
More laughing as she lifts herself up, goes to her backpack, and pulls out a towel.
“That’s some Girl Scout shit right there,” I say.
“Always prepared,” she muses back, then says, “Umm…”
“What?”
“I gotta take this thing off. Out. Whatever.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess you do. You want… help?”
She gnaws at her lips, which is cute as hell. “I guess?”
She laughs. I laugh. We’re a regular basket of fuckin’ giggles all of a sudden.
I love it.
I stand, cross over to her, turn her around, and take hold of the tail.
“You good?” I ask.
“We’ll see.”
I bend over, kiss her on both ass cheeks, and as I do…
“Oh, shit!” she gasps, as I withdraw the metal plug, kissing and massaging her as it goes. I toss the tail to the side, turn her to face me, and kiss her mouth while continuing to massage her sweet, sweet ass with both hands.
“So,” I say into her kiss, “how was your first first date, Ms. Clayton?”
She snorts then says, “Considering I was expecting dinner and a movie, not bad.”
I love this girl. So much so that I almost say it. Almost. But it feels like I’m doing things right so far, and so I’m gonna just play it safe.
It does occur to me that I don’t play it safe when I have something sarcastic to say, but when there’s something deeply sincere I could share, I hold back. But now’s not the time to jump into that psychological fox hole (pun one hundred percent intended), that’s what I pay Dr. Eldridge for.
“What?” That’s me. Maddie’s stroking some of my tangled mess of hair out of my face, wearing a look that’s not quite sadness, not quite concern, but is definitely their second cousin.
“Nothing,” she says, “Just… I dunno how I didn’t recognize you. You’re so… you.”
“I didn’t recognize you either.”
“Dude, I was thirteen and I barely had tits when you last actually saw me. And when you saw me again I was wearing a wig. And dancing in a strip club.”
“Valid points.”
“But you… you’re the same guy I remember. Except just more… hirsute, obviously.”
I nod at her, thoughtfully. Then ask, “Hirsute means hairy, right?”
“Yes, Tyler.” She sighs.
“Right. That’s like a whole fetish category on my favorite porn website.”
She rolls her eyes, pushes away from me, and starts toweling herself off.
“I dunno,” I say, “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t feel the same.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Maybe? Yes and no. I mean nobody really changes after the age of, like ten, they just get taller. But after you hit double digits, you’re pretty much locked, personality-wise. That’s my theory, anyway.”
“That’s an insane theory.”
“Um, yeah. Have we met? Of course it’s insane. Duh. But I stand by it.”
She smirks and shakes her head.
“That said,” I go on, “spending every day almost literally dying for a few years will give you a whole new perspective on shit. I mean, really, everybody’s always right on the edge of dying all the time anyway so there’s nothing special about it, but when you’re in war, you just become more aware of it, I guess.”
She’s done toweling off and is pulling on her jeans now. She offers me the towel, but I wave it off. I want what we made to dry into my skin and become part of me. I want to smell like us for pretty much the rest of my life.
I start pulling on my jeans too, stopping just before fastening the top button.
“How did Scotty die?” I ask.
She’s bending down to pick up her bra, and pauses for a second.
I continue, “In my apartment—old apartment—you asked me if I knew how Scotty died. I thought I did. I obviously don’t. How did he? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
If shit hadn’t gotten real before, it’s sure as hell real now. But I needed to ask. Because… fuck it. She and I both know why.
She exhales, then keeps getting dressed, putting on her bra and t-shirt while she tells me.
“The stuff that you know happened. It did. He, uh, was fighting that fire in Colorado, and, um, y’know, went to push the other guy out of the way of some timber he saw coming down, like I think you must’ve heard about…”
She glances at me. I nod. She goes on.
“So, yeah, all that happened, but uh, yeah, that’s… that’s not how he died.”
She doesn’t look my way and I don’t say anything. She sits down on the ground, putting on her shoes now.
“Uh, all that did was, like, um, crush his spine, but it didn’t kill him. But the other guys couldn’t drag him out right away because there was so much fire and shit raining down around them that every time they’d get close, they’d have to back away. So, y’know, the whole time he’s trapped under this burning, like, fucking, whatever. So y’know, he’s just stuck there, inhaling smoke, fire burning through his turnout gear. Through the moisture barrier and down to the thermal layer, so basically he’s just being baked like a potato in tin foil—I know all this stuff because the doctors and everybody explained it to me.”
She’s tying her shoes.
“And so finally they got to him and somehow, like, somehow, he was still alive, and they got him out of there, and actually got him to the hospital, and got him into surgery right away, and... Oh, and so we got there like the next morning, and uh, and we were there for… ten days? I guess? Two weeks almost? Whatever. And so...”
She’s standing now. Putting on her jacket.
“So he had a couple skin grafts, and like there was some discussion about how to repair his spine and if it could even be repaired, and how traumatic it would all be given the severity of his burns, and of course the whole time his lungs are filling with fluid and having to be drained and filling again, and…”
She pauses for a breath.
“...And, uh, so... So, yeah, so on like day ten or twelve or whatever it was, after watching this all happen, mom and dad were out of the room, and I was sitting alone with him, and watching him on the oxygen, and unconscious, and all of it, and it just seemed like fuck, y’know? Like even if he comes out of this there would still be this, like, insane, impossible mountain to climb. And it just seemed... fuckin’... cruel to ask him to do that. And selfish. I mean the doctors wanted to save him because that’s their job, and the other firefighters wanted to save him because that’s their job, and like me and mom and dad wanted to save him because… Because of US. Right? Like WE wanted to keep him. But, shit, even if he could make it… What kind of life is that? And look, I dunno. I dunno what Scotty would’ve wanted if it was the other way around and it was me, or mom, or dad, or... You... Laying there. But I figured I’d just let him know that... Just give him the chance to decide what he wanted to do for himself. Because, you know. Scotty… If Scotty thought he was doing something for other people he’d just keep doing it, and I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to. So... When it was just me and him, I leaned in, and I told him, ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to keep going. It’s OK. You can stop climbing now, Scotty...”
She’s facing me. I’m shirtless. Pants unbuttoned. Stone faced. Stoic. Unblinking. With tears rolling down my cheeks and getting lost in my beard.
“...And so, y’know... He did. He stopped. His lungs collapsed right at almost that very moment, and he flat-lined, and I stood in the corner while they rushed in and tried to revive him, and failed, and called the time of death, and that was it.”
She pulls the back of her hair from inside the collar of her jacket and flops it out so that it spills over her shoulders, and drops her hands to her sides.
“That’s how Scotty died.”
She says it with a shrug in her voice, its casual nonchalance a punch to my chest. And the look on my face must say everything because she follows up with…
“You asked.”
MADDIE
I now know what it looks like to rip Tyler Morgan’s world out from under him.
A couple weeks ago I was planning this moment—I mean, if he was gonna stick around making my life hell, make me think about those last few days I spent in the hospital with my brother every time I looked at his handsome, bearded face, then I was gonna make him re-live it with me.
But now, after getting it all out, and not in any of the overly dramatic ways I’d planned—like punching him in the teeth when I had to say the part where they dragged Scotty out of that forest alive, or kicking him in the stomach when I had to say the part about Scotty being in the hospital—and I even left out the fact that he looked… well, there’s no word to describe what Scotty looked like in the end. Not a word that’s supposed to describe a human, anyway. So now, after getting it all out in the most calm, unaffected, unemotional way possible, it occurs to me that this might’ve been worse.
I think I just kicked Tyler in the balls and stomped on his face as I walked away.
No, my angel says. Stomped on his heart.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Tyler shakes his head, his face wet with tears, then swallows hard and says, “Why?”
“I’m… I should’ve been more careful in my delivery. I know you didn’t know. And it’s not something that should be said so casually, but—”
“No, why didn’t you tell me this in the letters?” His eyes are searching mine. Like there’s some elusive answer inside me that will explain everything.
Would it have made a difference? I almost say. But I don’t.
I shrug.
He’s still searching for that answer in my eyes.
It’s not there.
So I sigh and consider his question. Because he probably deserves an answer. And maybe I should stop trying to punish him. I mean, I’m not over the fact that he just bailed out when I needed him. But is staying angry about it helping?
It’s not helping me, that’s for damn sure.
“Well,” I say, stalling for time so I can pull my thoughts together. “I didn’t want you to come home…” Shit.
Tyler raises an eyebrow.
“I mean, I did want you to come home. But I didn’t want to you to come home for…”
The other eyebrow goes up. “Maddie, just say it already.”
I let out a long breath and the truth comes with it. “I didn’t want you to come home just for Scotty. OK?” I stare at him. Hard. Then soften. Swallow. “I wanted you to come home for me.”
“Oh,” he says.
“And maybe I felt a little selfish for that?” I shrug. “For wanting you, when Scotty was the one who was dying. And… well—”
Tyler has me wrapped up in his arms before I can even finish that sentence. He hugs me tight, his chest warm and hard. His embrace is everything I wanted seven years ago when I was standing in the corner of Scotty’s hospital room watching him die.
And then I’m there. In that spot. Stuck in the corner. Just watching the whole thing play out. The beeping of the machines, and the shouting, and my parents…
Stuck.
Then it’s gone. As fast as it came, it fades. The beeping stops. The chaotic voices wither away with the passing seconds and I’m right where I am. Wrapped up in Tyler’s arms, just the way I wished I was on that day.
Does it matter that it’s seven years late?
Does it really matter?
I decide no. It doesn’t. Because he’s here now. And late is always better than never.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I wipe the tears off my face. Look up, then wipe his tears away too. Our eyes lock and this time I think he finds the answers he was looking for. I know I do.
“You know, sometimes things just happen.” I shrug. “You stayed away because you needed to at the time—”
“It was a mistake,” he says.
But I put up a hand. “No. No. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this turned out exactly the way it was supposed to.”
“You stripping and me crazy?” He laughs that off because… yeah. Truth.
I huff out a breath of air, kinda loving this—hating the topic, but loving this all the same. Because at least it’s real. At least we’re being honest. At least I’m not angry anymore.
I don’t know why I suddenly seem so Zen about things, but there it is.
Relief.
“I’m not angry at you,” I say. Because I feel the need to say this out loud. “I’m not angry at anyone. Anymore,” I clarify. Because clearly anger was my problem. Even Other Guy Ricky called that one. “I guess… I guess it’s just over now.”
“I get it.” He sighs. There’s a lot of hidden meaning in those three words. Things he’s done, regretted, gotten past somehow. And now it’s my turn.
I lean up on my tiptoes to kiss him. Enjoy the way he slips his tongue into my mouth. The little twisting motion he makes. The way our lips fit together.
It’s a soft kiss.
A touching kiss.
A forgiving kiss.
And when we break apart, we are more together than ever.
Outside the night air is cool. And there’s a little bit of wind, which makes the drone weave and dip.
I’m watching Tyler control it. My head tilts left with the drone when he barely misses the dirt hill surrounding the parking lot, then bobs right as he skims past a light pole.
“Tyler!” I say.
“I got it,” he says, thumbs busy pressing on the touchscreen. But then the drone does some move out of a World War II dogfight where they aim straight for the ground. Maybe I made that up. That cannot be a real move because—
“Jesus!” I say, grabbing my hair. My twelve-thousand-dollar drone is gonna—
“It’s cool,” Tyler says. The drone pulls out of the nosedive and resumes flying, very low to the ground. But now it’s all wobbly and shit. Off balance or—
He pulls it up just before it smashes into the concrete barrier in the empty parking lot.
“I thought you said you know how to fly this thing!”
He says nothing. Like he’s concentrating really hard on flying. It goes high—very high. “There we go,” he says. “Let’s start the cameras—”
But then Tyler’s whole body weaves right, like he’s the drone, which also dipped right, because it barely missed one of those huge towers electrical plants tend to have scattered all over the place.
“OK, I think we have enough,” I say, biting my nails. “Let’s bring it home.”
He sucks at drone flying. Which kinda makes me feel, you know. Proud.
Tyler’s chewing on his lip. Which is goddamned adorable. Most of the time. Just not now, because it means he’s trying really hard not to crash.
I ease my hands over his, my thumbs finding the controls on the touchscreen. “Here,” I say. “I got this.”
I expect a fight, but he just lets me have it.
“You’re really good at drone flying,” I say.
“Fuck you.” He laughs.
“Seriously. That dogfight you were having out there with the wind was impressive.” I wink at him as I steady the drone and bring it in for a landing in the middle of the parking lot then drive it over to us and make it stop a few feet away.
“Showoff,” he says. “But it’s sexy as fuck, Mads. Makes me hard when you do cool, kick-ass shit.”
I swell a little with that compliment. “It’s nice to know that I can do something better than you.”
“Hell,” he says, pulling me in to his chest. He’s been like that ever since we came up from the tunnels. All touchy-feely. I love it. Makes me think we’re like… a couple. “I’d put my money on you versus me every day of the fuckin’ year.”
He kisses me on the head, then breaks away to walk over to the drone.
Yeah, I think I love him.
Wait. Did I just—
Yup. Fuck it. “Tyler Hudson Morgan…” I say. “I think you might be that one special guy a girl meets and wants to keep forever.”
He’s bending down to pick up the drone when that comes out. He stands up, his back to me. Pauses. Takes a deep breath.
For a second I feel like that person who wrecks a new relationship by saying the L-word too soon.
He lets that breath out and turns to face me, looks at his feet and shakes his head.
My heart beats fast. Like it knows I really just fucked this all up.
“Madison Clayton… I… it… we…” He walks over to me, puts each of his hands on my cheeks, holds my gaze for what seems like forever, and says, “There’s no one else it could’ve been.”