An Inner Strength
Amanda
“Love me,” Amanda commanded harshly, not an ounce of gentleness in her tone. She had no room in her soul for gentleness or tenderness, at least not in that moment. She knew she wouldn’t survive if she let herself feel any of her bleeding soul. She had to be strong, stronger than she’d ever known, if she was going to make it out of this alive.
“Amanda…”
“One last time.” Scalding tears flooded her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily. “Then I’ll go.”
She knew now that Jason was a fighter. The strongest man she’d ever known, physically, mentally. He’d survived an entire lifetime of abuse. He’d somehow made it through, somehow dared to take a chance on a heart that he shouldn’t have even had after what had been done to him. She was his chance, his so called mistake, his guilt and his passion and all he’d ever wanted wrapped up into one.
If she was going, she wouldn’t let him forget her. She’d leave her soul with him. If he died, she’d die with him, not her body, but the part of herself that truly mattered.
“You’ll go in the morning,” Jason conceded, his eyes cutting her to the quick. “We have these last few hours.”
“Make them count then,” she begged.
“You need to sleep before you go.”
“I’ll sleep, but only if you do this first. Then I promise I’ll rest.”
“This isn’t goodbye,” Jason said roughly.
Amanda was amazed to see him blink rapidly. The sheen of moisture in his eyes belied his words. “This isn’t goodbye,” she echoed. “But I need this. We both need this.”
His hands slowly started to work away the buttons on his shirt. She knew she’d won. He would do this for her. Because she was right. They both needed it, because, no matter what Jason said, it might very well be their last night together.
She slipped off her own shirt, her jeans, her panties and socks. She couldn’t get them off fast enough. It was maddening that her fingers felt wooden, nearly refusing to move or function properly.
Finally they were naked, facing each other in the darkened room. Amanda’s eyes were well adjusted and there was just enough light from the moon filtering through the window that she could see the absolute devastation on Jason’s face.
He knows it too. That this could be the last time.
She froze when he closed the distance, finally starting it, starting what she couldn’t make her mind rethink- a final goodbye. He reached out and gently, like the whisper of the stiff fall breeze that blew outside, caressed her cheek.
“I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful,” he said huskily as he dipped his head. His face was just inches from hers, yet neither of them moved. His hand moved down, tracing the line of her jaw and her chin before skimming up to brush her lips.
Amanda moaned as his thumb pressed down on her bottom lip. Her mouth fell open, but his hand moved away, already tracing lower, skimming over her chin again, down her neck, over her collar bones, to her breasts.
Her breath escaped in a hard rush as his thumb and index finger worked her nipple, circling, pinching, plying. She arched her back, thrusting her breast into Jason’s calloused hand. His warmth leached into her skin and she vowed that she wouldn’t forget. She wouldn’t forget the feel of his touch, his fingers sure and strong, the callouses there the perfect amount of rough abrasion. She wouldn’t forget just the way he circled, caressed, stroked. He pulled the passion from her body in ways she hadn’t ever known possible. She would remember each and every sound, his moans, his breath. She’d cherish this time, this night, for the rest of her life.
It was true. If something was taken, ripped from you, it became infinitely precious. The memories, the shared moments, they would have to sustain her for a lifetime.
Jason bent his head and lapped at her nipple, his tongue and mouth so very warm and wet and luxurious. Amanda threaded the fingers of her right hand through Jason’s thick, dark hair. It was so soft, so smooth. How long had it been since she noticed the exact texture?
Her senses were heightened, like she’d been blinded or deafened, the others made up for the one she’d lost. Except in this case she hadn’t lost her senses. No, she’d lost Jason’s. Everything that was him, everything that made him who he was, that made him the man she loved.
His name isn’t even Jason.
She didn’t feel betrayed by his past or his deception. She knew he loved her. That meant not telling her about a life that broke her heart. It broke her because she did love him. She knew she always would, no matter his name or his past. He didn’t doubt her. He just wanted to keep her safe. Safe from his enemies and his demons. Safe from himself.
“Amanda.”
Jason released her nipple and straightened. His eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t answer past the lump that rose in her throat.
“Stop. This is for us. This is our night. No one can take it from us. I’ve given you my word, but if this is all you have to live on for the rest of your life, your final memories, I won’t have them tainted.”
“Jason,” she sobbed brokenly. She lifted her hands and clutched his shoulders desperately, digging her nails in as though that simple act could keep him there with her.
He shivered and as she skimmed her hand along his shoulder she was surprised to feel goosebumps. It had nothing to do with the room being cold. It wasn’t. It was over-warm, if anything.
She trained her hand along his arm, her sadness fading just enough to allow the heat of desire to slowly seep through. Jason’s biceps bunched under her touch. She ran her finger down his forearm, explored the planes and crevices of muscle and crisp hair and soft bronzed skin.
She felt utterly fragile as she touched him, his body so much different than her own, so much more powerful. A strange vulnerability crept into her chest, a sensation she’d never quite felt before with Jason. She knew now, that if he wanted to, he could have easily hurt her. She was so delicate in comparison to his raw strength. He’d always been gentle. Always. So very careful to give her pleasure, to care for her, to treasure her. She’d never been frightened by that strength; instead, she cherished it.
“If you’re not going to stop thinking, this can’t be gentle. I’ll take your mind off of what’s to come. I’ll keep you here with me, here, right now, in this minute.”
“I can’t help it,” Amanda sobbed. It was a strange sound, the broken voice and rasp of air. She wondered if she was crying. She couldn’t tell. Her eyes and throat had burned for so long with the moisture she’d held back that it all felt numb.
“I’ll help you to help it. For tonight, you are mine. Not your memories, not your fears, not your hopes and dreams or whatever is left of them. I’ll put myself so far under your skin that no matter what happens, I’ll always be with you. You are mine, Amanda.”
“And you are mine.”
Finally, at last, with those harshly whispered words, the heat came flooding into her, suffusing every limb, awakening her to the horrible beauty that comes with impending loss.
When Jason gripped her waist and lifted her, she was ready, soaking wet and suddenly aching. She wrapped her legs around his chiseled hips and dug her nails into the granite muscle of his shoulder. He carried her across the room to the bed, where he fell roughly on top of her. He wasn’t gentle, his movements hard and jerky and uncontrolled.
He was right. All the heartache faded, her thoughts of yesterday and tomorrow were held at bay. There was nothing but Jason, hard, so very hard, stretching over top of her body, covering her skin with his, smearing his arousal over her, ingraining his scent and his soul into her for an eternity.