Can't Breathe: A Novella

Can't Breathe: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Robin tried to remember the last time a man kissed her, but Brent smothered any attempts at pulling up those memories.  He kissed like he danced...magically.  She lost herself in the touch of his lips moving against hers, and the warmth of his body against hers, and the frantic beating of his heart against his chest.

For just this one night, she wanted to forget...forget all about everything, her sorrow, her pain, her life, and bask in his warmth and whatever little bit of comfort he could provide for her.  She started backing him toward her bed, aching and throbbing in places that hadn't felt a man’s touch in over ten years.

The back of his knees hit the mattress and their kiss broke off as he toppled backward.  Robin crawled up his chest, straddling him, just wanted to feel his lips on hers again before he finally told her to stop.

But he didn’t.  He allowed her to kiss him, and he feathered his fingers through her hair and flipped her over on her back.  Soon there was a frenzy of clothes being shed and eager hands searching for treasures.  He didn’t ask her to stop, he didn’t ask if she wanted to stop, he just kissed her and touched her and loved on her until they were both breathless and naked and losing their sanity in the throes of a singular climax.  There was no yesterday or tomorrow for them.  There was only that moment, when Robin looked up into Brent’s brown eyes and recognized the emotion she was feeling right then was her heart producing love again.

She was falling in love with this man, and she couldn’t stop herself.

*****

The moon sat low on the horizon and lit up her room.  Neither spoke, but neither were asleep.  Robin’s back was pressed against Brent’s chest, and she stared out the window at the stars fighting to be seen around the bright moonlight.  Brent played with her hair and tickled a line up and down the side of her neck, down her arm, across her hip to circle her bellybutton and then back up again.  Parts of her were sore and tender, but that was expected after ten years of no sexual contact.  At this point the pain was welcome, because the pain of losing Lucy was oddly absent, and she’d lived with that pain for so long, she had come to depend on it.

Sighing heavily, she twisted in his arms and faced him.  “I guess we should talk now,” she said.  He smiled lazily at her.  

“If you wish,” he said.  “I had other plans, but we can talk first.”

Robin rolled her eyes.

“That’s twice,” he informed her.

“What’s twice?”

“Rolling your eyes at me,” he said, grinning now.  “I like it.  It makes you look spunky.”

Robin couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her.  Brent did that to her.  He brought tiny bits of joy into her life, when it had been full of sadness and loss for so long.

“Will I ever get a real smile out of you?” he asked softly, tracing his thumb around her lips.

“I smile.”

“Yeah, but I’d like to see you really smile, to grin so big the world lights up a little brighter from it.”

“Are you always such a sweet-talker?”

“I get it from my Pop,” he said, bending down to kiss her again.  “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, moving his lips across hers.  His hand pressed against the small of her back, matching their lower regions perfectly, and Robin decided they could talk later.