Chapter 11
It wasn’t as easy as Digger had made it sound. I didn’t want to leave my brother. I refused to.
“He hits Ian?” Digger asked.
I flinched. Just saying it like that—my mom and I, and my sister when she had been there, we never said it out loud like that. It was our secret. “He hasn’t laid a hand on my brother since Ian was about twelve. When he gets really upset with Ian, I distract him.”
I thought Digger was going to start breaking things. I had never seen anyone look so angry. “You take it for your brother.”
“Wouldn’t you? For Ilsa?”
He crossed the room from my closet, where he had been tossing things out onto the bed to try to convince me to pack. “Cinderella, I would do anything to protect Ilsa. But no one’s going to try to lay a hand on me, because I’d fucking break him in two. When Ian got big enough to be a physical threat to your dad, that fucking bully got afraid that Ian would fight back. Just like no one’s going to try anything on me, your dad’s not going to try anything on Ian.”
“I’m still not leaving him here.” My voice rose. “I’m not leaving him!”
Digger breathed out, calming himself down. “Does Ian know what your dad does to you?”
I shook my head. “I think he knows that he slaps me, because I can’t always hide that. I don’t want him to know the rest and I don’t think my dad does, either. He’s always…quiet.”
Digger’s nostrils flared and I thought he might explode pretty soon. “Exactly. See what I mean?” He took my chin in his hand. “He’s afraid of your brother. Rebecca, listen to me. I’m not leaving you here. If I have to carry you out, I will, and if I have to carry your brother out to make you come, I’ll do that too.”
I breathed in shakily. “For tonight. I’ll come with you for tonight.”
Digger just looked at me. “Let’s go find your brother.”
“Ian?” I knocked on his door, then cracked it open. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“I’m studying, Wr—Rebecca.” He didn’t look up.
“We’re leaving,” Digger announced. “Rebecca’s moving out.”
Ian’s head shot up from his thick math book. “What?”
“No! No, I’m not moving out. I’m leaving for the night. I want you to come, too.” I glared at Digger.
“Why would I come? I’m old enough to sleep here by myself.” He frowned. “Unless you’re afraid that I’ll have Maryam over. I thought you were on my side—”
“This has nothing to do with you getting with your little girlfriend,” Digger said angrily. “Your father has been using your sister as his punching bag, and she’s leaving with me.”
I sat down on the bed and covered my face. It was like I was in some kind of nightmare.
“Wreck? Is that true?” Ian sounded like a little boy again, all anxious and afraid. I wiped my eyes and took my hands away.
“It’s not that bad,” I assured him. “I’m fine.”
“But does he—I know he says stuff but does he—” Ian said brokenly.
“Yes.” I managed to look him in the eye. “Yes. For my whole life, yes.”
Digger started to speak again but I held up my hand. “Please come with me for tonight. I know they’re in Louisville, but I want you with me, Ian. Please?”
We sat and looked at each other in silence. Tears welled up in his eyes.
“Get a bag, pack it up,” Digger said suddenly and we both jumped. “We’re getting out of the suburbs and going to Detroit where it’s safe.” Ian kind of stumbled to his feet and did as Digger told him.
None of us said too much at first on the car ride. I was totally overwhelmed with the enormity of what had happened and I thought my brother was, too.
“Rebecca, you’re not coming back home. You can’t,” Ian said. His voice was gravelly and rough.
I turned to look at my brother. “What?”
“You can’t live with Dad anymore. No.”
“I’m not leaving you alone—”
“Do you think it would be better for me if you’re there, knowing that he’s hitting you?” he asked incredulously. “No. You have to move out, for good.”
“What if he tries something on you?” My voice had gotten so small, it was hard for them to hear me over the pumping cylinders of the Fairlane.
Ian looked back at me. “That’s what you’re afraid of?” I nodded, a huge lump in my throat. “He hasn’t done that in a long time,” he said in a low voice. “He doesn’t do that anymore. I’m as big as he is. I’m not afraid of him physically.”
“I’m afraid, all the time. I’m afraid he’ll hurt you with his fists and his words.” My heart was stuttering in my chest.
“I’m not afraid of him,” my brother said defiantly. “I don’t want you to be anymore, either.”
“So Rebecca’s coming to live with me,” Digger said. “No more argument. Ian, you’re welcome as well.”
My brother looked stunned. “You’d let me live with you?” he asked Digger.
“I’m going to try to make it happen,” Digger told him. “It may not be right away. If there’s even the smallest chance of your dad touching you, I’m not leaving you at that house.”
“Thank you. Thanks for protecting my sister.”
Digger nodded and stuck his hand back for Ian to shake. “You and me, we’re partners now. Got it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” There was silence from the back seat, then Ian asked, “What about Mom? Does he do that to her, too? Does she know?”
“She knows, but she won’t talk to me about herself. She never has. I used to ask her for help…” I cleared my throat. “I called the police once. Do you remember?”
“Not too well. I think I remember the lights.”
“I made you stay in your room. Mom covered for him and they didn’t believe me. She lied for him, saying all kinds of things about me.” Ian made an angry noise. “She had her reasons. She depends on him for everything and she didn’t want him to be taken away. She loves him. And she thinks it’s just ‘discipline.’” I got so upset for a moment that I couldn’t speak. “But she’s scared, too.”
“That’s why we need to call the cops,” Digger said.
“No. I know if we get the police involved again, it will just make it worse for all of us. They can’t keep him locked up and God knows what…” I stopped and got a hold of myself. “I’ll talk to Mom again and ask her to leave. To help me get you out.” I shrugged. I didn’t have a lot of hope for that working.
“Whatever she does, you have to go anyway,” Ian told me. “You have to. For me, ok, Wreck?”
“Then it’s settled,” Digger announced. Nothing was settled. I’d never felt more unsettled in my life.
Ian was a completely speechless when he saw Digger’s house. It was, admittedly, still a little ratty. I watched them carry in our bags, listened to Digger explain how Ian’s room was perfectly safe now that the framing in the attic had been “touched up” so that the ceiling wouldn’t fall down. “And look, lights!” he added, as if electricity in a house was a special feature. Ian glanced at me and I tried to look reassuring.
“I’m right down the hall,” I told him. My voice sounded croaky after all the crying. “You can walk on the stairs, now, without worrying about where to step.” Ian’s mouth dropped open.
“Just stay out of the living room,” Digger recommended. “Still a big drop in there down to the basement. The basement needs a little work.” Ian sat down on the bed. He looked shell-shocked. I sat down next to him.
Digger stared at both of us. I had never seen him look actually worried, but he did seem concerned. He took charge again. “Cinderella, you’re going to bed,” he directed me. “Ian, I’ll be back in here shortly.” I stood and trailed after him like a zombie.
He watched in the bedroom as I pulled off clothes, shivering. “Here.” Digger wrapped a shirt over the t-shirt I was wearing. It was soft flannel, and it smelled like him. He pulled my hand and tucked me into the bed.
“I don’t know about this,” I said. I held my St. Francis de Sales medal in my hand. “I don’t know.”
“I know,” he told me with total assurance. One thing Digger was never short of was confidence. “This is the right thing to do. It’s right for you, and we’ll make it right for Ian, too.” He lay down next to me and pulled me to him. “I want you to reconsider calling the police.”
“No!” I tried to pull away but he held me firmly. “No. If we make a scene, cause a spectacle, he’ll go crazy. Publicity and people thinking badly of him—it’s like his trigger. No police, no.”
“Ok.” Digger kissed my forehead. “Ok, calm down.”
I let him soothe me for a while, listening to his heartbeat. “I don’t know if I can do this. All this time I was thinking that I was staying there for Ian. But maybe it was because I was too scared to go. I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do this.”
“Remember how we met?” He nudged me with his nose. “Remember how you charged down the street, got into a fight with a pimp?”
“I didn’t know he was a pimp.”
“You’re plenty brave,” he told me. “It will be better in the morning. You’ll see in the morning.” I turned over to face him, burrowing closer. “You’ll see,” he said again.
I woke up to the light from the un-boarded window spilling into my face, a little confused about where I was. Digger was gone and the other side of the bed was cold. I rubbed my eyes and reached for my hearing aid, wishing I had brushed my teeth the night before, and wondering where my toothbrush was.
I opened the door to the hallway. “Digger? Ian?” The room where Ian had slept was also empty. I pulled Digger’s shirt more tightly around myself. I put on shoes, jeans, and a winter coat to go into the cold construction zone downstairs.
I heard voices in the kitchen, the other room that had gotten a lot of help during the past week. All the debris was out, the graffiti was covered over with a quick coat of paint, the wall between the room and the back yard was no longer semi-transparent. Digger had set up buckets, crates, and other makeshift chairs around a table he had nailed together out of scrap building materials. I had contributed by covering it with a sheet.
His mom, Melissa, his sister Ilsa, Digger, and my brother were all sitting around the sheeted table, drinking take-out cups of coffee. Everyone but Digger was wearing a down coat and Melissa had on mittens. I stopped in the doorway, nervously pulling my tangled hair down over my left shoulder. “There she is,” Digger said with satisfaction. “Come on over here.” He patted his thigh.
As all the crates were taken, I sat down carefully on his lap. Digger put his arm around my waist and settled me against him. “I was just telling my mom and Ilsa that you’re living here now.”
They seemed stunned. I couldn’t blame them. Ian was also sitting with his mouth slightly open, but he was looking at Ilsa like she was his Christmas stocking. I reached out and tapped his foot with mine. He barely blinked.
“I guess we should say congratulations,” Melissa Brody said. She didn’t sound very congratulatory.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
“Thanks,” Digger told her, not seeming to notice her tone. “Ian’s staying too, as long as he can. Ian!”
My brother jerked to attention. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Digger shook his head at him. “Jesus. I forgot about that stage of life and what controls your brain. He brought his math book to do some work before his game tonight,” he told his sister. “You can tutor him before you go back to Ann Arbor.”
“Oh, can I? You’re such a bossy little twat,” Ilsa retorted.
Ian got starry eyed. For crying out loud.
“First we’ll eat,” Digger continued. “Go get dressed, baby, and I’ll show them around the house, all the improvements.”
“Be careful and watch where you step,” I advised seriously, then I ran up the stairs to get dressed in the chilly bathroom. Digger had plugged in a little heater so the pipes didn’t freeze but I noticed that my lips were blue when I got out. I was still shivering when I came out of the bedroom and I wore so many layers that I was as round as a basketball. I walked back down the non-creaky stairs, admiring the new, smooth treads, and wishing there was a handrail. Melissa Brody’s voice floated up to me from the living room with the easy basement access.
“Think about what you’re doing, Digger. From the time you were a little boy you’ve always been picking up strays. She’s not some one-eyed cat you’re feeding with leftovers from your dinner. If she moves in here, that's it. You have her, maybe for life.”
Digger said something but I missed part of it. Something about me already living there.
“I’m thinking of your future. You already changed so much, not seeing your friends, spending all your money. What are you going to do with a girl like that…” Melissa kept going on but Ian and Ilsa started making noise back in the kitchen and muffled the conversation. I stood on the stairs, not knowing whether to go up or down. His mom was 100% correct. Finally I made myself descend and face the music.
Digger stared at me curiously. “Everything ok?”
“Just cold in the shower,” I lied. Well, no, that was true: it had been freezing. But that wasn’t why I was upset.
We all went to a very uncomfortable breakfast together, uncomfortable for me. Ilsa and Digger talked, and Ian did too, but Melissa had very little to say. I didn’t either, sitting next to her, knowing that she thought I was bad for her son. We all trooped back to the house and Ilsa did help Ian with his calculus. She tried to, anyway. He was so busy staring at her and wiping drool off the corners of his mouth that I wasn’t sure how much he picked up. I spent a long time straightening up the bedroom so that I wouldn’t have to talk to Digger and Melissa as they surveyed the yard and made landscaping plans for the spring.
“You’ll need a refrigerator, now. I don’t understand how you’ve been getting by without one,” she was directing him when I finally came down into the slightly heated kitchen.
“The crate of food out the back door has been working, it’s plenty cold,” Digger explained easily. “Except when the raccoons got into it that one night.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You can’t keep Rebecca here without a refrigerator. And a stove. You know how to cook some, you’ll have to start and stop wasting so much money taking her out all the time.”
“He’s not keeping me here.”
I wasn’t really even aware that I had said it out loud until they all turned to me. I licked my lips. “I mean, I’m not some one-eyed cat he has to take care of. I can work, and I can cook, and I can use a crate outside instead of a refrigerator as long as the raccoons haven’t been in it. Ian and I will stay here for a while to get ourselves sorted out, then we’ll move. I’m not going to let us be a drain on him,” I told Melissa. “I’m not trying to ruin his life.”
Her harsh expression softened a little. “I know you don’t want to be a drain on him. I can’t imagine a girl like you, who grew up like you did, living like this. Camping in the cold.”
“You don’t know about living in our house. It may have looked pretty from the outside, but Ian and I would much rather camp in the cold then live there.” You could have heard a pin drop in the kitchen, and I got very, very embarrassed when I felt tears form.
Digger spoke up from the table. “Mom, mind your own business. What I do in my house is not your concern. I don't want to hear another word about it, not ever again.” He looked right at me. “You’re not going anywhere if I can help it. Got it, Cinderella?”
“Ian, come on. You have your game,” I said steadily. I walked to the front of the house and yanked on the door. Ian came up behind me and pulled it open. He really was big and strong now.
We said goodbye to Melissa and Ilsa in the driveway, Digger glowering at his mother and her frowning right back at him.
“Thank you, Ilsa, for helping me.” Ian’s voice sounded higher than normal.
“Sure,” she answered carelessly. “Text me if you’re not getting something. I remember all that shit pretty well.” She got in her mom’s car and Ian started to follow her.
I grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt. “We’re not going with her,” I said, and directed him to the Fairlane. He talked about Ilsa for the entire ride, her intelligence, her beauty, her sparkling wit. I looked over at Digger, and he was trying not to laugh. At least it got my brother’s mind off his issues with me and with Maryam.
“My mom will get better,” Digger said to me in a low voice.
“That’s what you told me,” I agreed. I believed it less now than I had before.
“Even if she doesn’t, I don’t give a fuck, and neither should you.” His hand gripped my thigh. “Not one fuck.” He squeezed. “We will get a refrigerator. She was right about that.” I stayed on my side of the car for the ride north, all the way to my old house.
Digger helped me pack, but it turned out there wasn’t much I wanted to bring. I filled a suitcase (that I planned to return) with some clothes, pictures, mementos. I copied all my data off my laptop then wiped it clean. I deleted everything on my phone, too, then stacked the devices neatly on top of my now-empty desk.
I stared at them for a moment. “I don’t have anything.”
“I put it all in the car,” Digger told me. “Let’s go talk to Ian.”
“No, I mean, that bag, that’s it.” My voice was high and a little hysterical. “I don’t have any savings, I don’t have a credit card, a car, a job. I won’t even have a phone anymore.” I turned to look at him. I was starting to feel a little dizzy, realizing what I was going to do. “I’ve never lived anywhere else.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Really?”
Digger put his hands around my arms. “Really. All that crap, we’ll figure it out. Really. The most important thing is you being safe. Call your brother and let’s get out of here.” He picked up my last bag and put his arm around me. I walked out to his car focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
Ian and I walked together to the gym while Digger parked. He said he needed to make a call, and I hurried into the warm school, stripping off various layers of clothing once we were inside. Ian jogged to the locker room to join the team. Oh, I had never realized how much I appreciated central heating.
“No treats today?” a man asked me. I turned. Ian’s basketball coach.
“No, I didn’t have a chance to make anything,” I told him. “Sorry.”
“We haven’t met yet but I’ve spoken to your father many times.” I was sure he had; my dad liked to call and berate Ian’s coaches whenever he felt the urge. “I’m Evan.”
“Rebecca.” We shook hands.
“I know,” he said. “I asked your brother.”
“Oh? Is there a problem with Ian that you wanted to talk to me about?”
He smiled at me. “No, I was just curious about you. I thought maybe we could go out after the game, maybe have dinner.”
“Oh,” I said. What? “Oh, I, well, thank you. No, thank you, I can’t.”
His smile wavered. “Another time.”
“Oh,” I repeated stupidly.
“She’s taken.” I didn’t need to turn to look, I could feel Digger looming behind me. “Sorry, man.”
The coach nodded. “No problem. Nice to meet you, Rebecca.”
“He was asking me out,” I said, wonderingly.
Digger stared at me. “Were you thinking about saying yes?”
“Of course not! But why do you think he would do that?”
“Cinderella.” Digger shook his head at me. “What am I going to do with you? Let’s go sit. Here.” He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I looked at the little cardboard envelope. “Ear plugs? I won’t be able to hear you at all.”
“We’ll make ourselves understood.”
This game wasn’t close like the last one, but I was on the edge of my seat anyway. My parents were due back anytime, and I knew my father would want to see Ian play. But I didn’t want to leave Ian there without me, either. So every time the doors to the gym flew open, I tensed on the bleachers. I smoothed the hair down on either side of my face distractedly until Digger took my hands in his. “Ok,” he mouthed to me, nodding slowly.
I nodded back.
The game got sloppy in the second half with the Lamb’s Wethers up by a lot and the other team fouling almost every time they came down the court. Ian’s coach, that Evan, started pulling the starters until my brother was the last non-reserve in the game. Ian had the ball at the top of the key and went left with it. The guy who was guarding him stuck out his leg to stop him and Ian stepped on his foot. I saw his ankle roll before he went down on the court.
I stood up from my seat. I had seen him get hurt in games before, plenty of times. I waited for Ian to stand too and shake it off, but he just stayed down on the ground, holding his ankle. I pushed past the other spectators, down the bleachers. and I would have gone onto the court, but Digger grabbed my arm. I yanked the ear plugs out of my ears. He was really hurt. The coach and the school’s athletic trainer were bent over him.
“What’s going on here?” I heard my father’s voice, but without the hearing aid and with all the extra noise in the gym, I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
I swiveled so fast that I lost my balance, almost falling. Digger’s hand on my arm steadied me.
“What happened to your brother?”
He was on the other side of me from where Digger stood. “He twisted his ankle,” I said.
“Stop yelling. Lower your voice and try to stay on your feet, Rebecca.” My father walked onto the court and moved the coach aside. After another minute, he and the trainer helped my brother up, and Ian hopped on one leg, leaning heavily on both of them. The crowd clapped and cheered.
“Rebecca? Will you tell me if he’s ok?” Maryam tugged on my arm, looking like she was going to cry.
I nodded at her, watching as they walked my brother back towards the locker room. I pulled away from her and from Digger and skirted the edge of the court to follow them.
“It’s an ankle sprain,” the trainer announced in the athletic office a few minutes later. “He’ll need to go in to get this looked at.” He handed my dad a pair of crutches.
Ian’s covered his eyes with his forearm as he lay on the table. His wrapped ankle was packed with ice.
“We’ll go now,” my father said. “Ian.” He tapped my brother’s shoulder, signaling him to sit up, and gave him the borrowed crutches.
My hand had been on Ian’s shoulder. “I’ll come,” I told him.
“You’ll go home. Your presence is unnecessary,” my dad said. “I will see you there later.” He lowered his voice and spoke directly into my ear. “You and I have things to discuss. I haven’t forgotten you leaving the office without permission last week and your mother had some interesting things to say about you as well.” Despite knowing that he couldn’t do anything to me anymore, I still felt my muscles go taut.
“I’ll come,” I repeated to Ian.
“No, Wreck. Go…home,” he finished significantly. “I’ll be ok. I’ll talk to you later.” He pushed himself to his feet. He limped slowly to the door on the crutches, followed by our father and the trainer. I walked behind them in the sad procession.
Digger was waiting outside in the hallway. He clapped his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “You’ll be ok, man. I’ll be in touch with you soon.” My father glared at him. I stopped next to Digger and watched them continue down the hall. “He’ll be ok,” he told me also.
“He’s going home with my dad.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“My dad is going to freak out when I don’t come, too. He might take it out on Ian.”
“I don’t think so,” Digger told me. “We’re going over to your house now to talk to your mom. Ian will let us know what’s happening.”
I let him lead me out of the building and to the car and we drove back to my house. My former house. I found my mom in her usual spot on the couch in the half-lit family room, flicking through her tablet.
“Mom?”
She looked up. “Oh, your father told me that Ian got hurt.” I noticed that she wasn’t making any move to go meet them at the hospital. “Did you know that?”
“I saw it happen,” I nodded.
“Your father is angry about the wait at the ER.”
“He’s angry about everything.”
She looked away. “He wasn’t pleased about the weekend. Did that help you, Rebecca? Having the time alone?”
I nodded again. “It did. Thank you, Mom. How is grandma?”
My mom toyed with the tablet. “Very frail. She needs someone there to take care of her.”
“Can’t she hire someone?”
She glanced around as if someone might be listening. “There isn’t the money that your father thinks there is. She’s given most of it away or lost it to bad investment ideas. I think they were scams but she won’t admit that to me. She needs someone to watch her.” My mother sighed.
I sat next to her on the couch and took a deep breath. “Mom, I made some decisions this weekend. I’m not going to live here anymore.” I leaned forward and gently took her hand. It felt strange to touch her.
Her eyes got huge. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I can’t live here.” My voice broke. “You know, Mom. You know that he hurts me.”
“It’s just discipline.”
“No, it’s not! I couldn’t walk the day after he ‘disciplined’ me. He doesn’t have the right to do that, to hurt me like that. He doesn’t have the right to do it to any of us.”
She looked away. “Where will you go?”
“I’ll be fine,” I hedged. “I was hoping that you would think about leaving, too. With Ian.”
“Me, and Ian?”
“He’s your son.” A shot of anger went through me. “What if Dad tried to ‘discipline’ Ian again? Would you let him?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t do that,” she told me. “He respects Ian too much.”
I sat back up. “Will you think about it? I’ll help you if you want to leave. If you don’t, I want Ian to come live with me.”
“Your father will never allow that.”
“I’m not leaving him here forever. You should act to protect him, just like I have, all these years. If you don’t, I will have to do something.”
“Be careful, Rebecca.” She was gripping my hand. “Be very careful of your father.”
I pulled away and stood. “If he asks you, you can tell him you don’t know where I am, and that’s the truth. I’ll talk to him myself.”
Digger was standing in the kitchen. He reminded me of a cat waiting to spring on something: still, but poised and ready. “She’s not coming?”
I shook my head.
“Then we’re out.”
Ian texted Digger on our way to Detroit. It was just a sprain and it hurt, but it would heal. He couldn’t play any sport for a few weeks. I asked him if he was upset.
“Relieved,” he wrote back. “Now I don’t have to worry about messing up on the court and Dad seeing me.” I stared at the words on the screen.
“Do you want me to come get you?” I asked him, and he wrote back, in capital letters, NO.
I was so glad to get back to Digger’s bedroom, to let him pull off my clothes and his own, to lie with him in his bed, our bodies entwined. “I’m proud of you, baby girl,” he told me. “You made a good decision.”
I shrugged. “I hope so. My dad was already angry at me in the gym. I don’t know what would have happened tonight if I had gone home with him.”
Digger’s arms went taut. “Never again,” he told me. “Not anymore.”
I lifted my head from his chest. “Thank you,” I told him. “I didn’t tell you that. Thank you for getting me out of the house, for letting me stay here. I know it’s not what you were planning.”
“Life doesn’t go according to plan.” He rolled on his back, pulling me with him so that I lay on top of his body. “You can hope for things for your future, but if you’re depending on plans, you’re bound to be disappointed.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed with how this turned out with me,” I said softly.
He played with my hair, brushing it back from my face with his hand. “I hope my future includes you.”
“I hope the same thing.” I pushed myself forward and kissed him along his jaw, feeling the slight tickle of his five o’clock shadow. I kissed down his neck, mouthing his Adam’s apple, and nosed his ear, like he did to me. Digger swept his hands lightly up and down my back, letting me discover his body.
I moved to his lips and kissed him gently, and when he parted them, I kissed him deeper, slipping my tongue into his mouth and exploring there. I felt when he started to get hard, pressing up into me. I broke off our kiss and rubbed myself against him. It felt so good, sliding my skin against his, trailing my breasts down his chest, kissing and licking my way down over his own hard nipples, over the ridges of his six-pack. He parted his legs and I knelt between them. I traced my fingers over his thigh and he thrust toward my mouth, so I drew his cock between my lips. I had touched him with my hands but I had never done this before. I wanted to taste him like he had tasted me.
I played with him with my tongue, running it up and down his length, under the ridge of the head. He said my name when I did that, growled it, so I did it again, then opened my mouth and took in as much of him as I could. He took my hand and cupped the rest of his cock with it. When I moved my head up and down he undulated with me, rhythmically pressing into my mouth.
“Come here.” He pulled me up to him, moving his hands now to feel me. He put on the condom and plunged into me from behind, my back to his broad chest, the heel of his hand massaging my clitoris. Digger bit my neck, making me moan and toss my head, and his hand circled relentlessly, pulling me toward a climax. He pushed inside me again, deeper and harder, again, and again. I clenched myself around him inside me, and when I did, I came. He clutched me against him and groaned out my name. We lay, still together, panting.
“This is what I hope,” he whispered. I turned toward him as he flicked his tongue over my ear. “I hope I hold you like this for the rest of my life.” I twisted more to kiss him, and it didn’t take too long before he was entering me again, connecting us together.
I hoped for forever.