Page 45

I watch Oren closely as he sits on the couch, staring at the TV. He’s here physically, but his mind is somewhere else. His smile is like a ghost, his movements stunted. I know something is wrong, but he won’t talk to me. I’ve asked him a dozen times what’s wrong, and at first, it was just, “No,” and then it was, “Not now.” Then he transitioned into just shaking his head, pretending everything was fine, even though his face betrays him. Now he is just sitting there completely still and silent. Each second, the silence ticks by, making the ball of nerves inside me compound. It feels like the worry will gnaw away at my stomach or my sanity, I’m still not sure which.

I will force him to talk to me, to open up about what the deal is, if it’s the last thing I do. I’m definitely beyond done with taking no for an answer. Sighing, I get up and walk into the kitchen, pulling out my phone and dialing Ziggy. I pace around the room as I wait for her to answer.

When she picks up, her voice is as bright as always. “Hey Rachel, what’s up?”

“I need a favor,” I whisper, glancing back to where Oren is still staring, barely paying attention to anything. “Can you watch Lily for the night? There’s something up with Oren, like really wrong, and I need to figure out what it is. I need to get him talking.”

“Of course.” Ziggy doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

True to her word, like she always is, Ziggy shows up in no time at all, flitting into the apartment, scooping Lily into her arms, and reassuring me. “Take your time. We’ll be fine. You focus on Oren, okay?”

I nod gratefully and watch the two of them head out the door. Oren has yet to even realize that Ziggy was here or that she just walked out the door chatting away with our child. Yep, this is a problem and I’ve got to figure it the hell out. This isn’t the Oren that’s been living with us. The person sitting in front of me is just a shell. He isn’t truly here. I turn back to watch him, completely withdrawn, staring blankly into space.

I approach him slowly, standing in front of him. His jaw is clenched so hard it looks like it might crack, his hands in fists next to him. The sight of him breaks my heart a little. I can’t seem to penetrate whatever walls he has up–nothing I've said has worked so far. I don’t know what to do or how to make him open up, but damn it, if I won't do anything to force him to, by any means necessary. I slide onto his lap, straddling him, pulling his face toward mine, my hands cupping his cheeks. I force him to look at me until he finally meets my gaze, and it’s so full of pain.

“Oren,” I whisper, placing my lips at the base of his neck. Pressing light kisses on each tattoo, “Talk to me. Please.”

I pull back and look into his eyes again. He says nothing, closing his eyes as if he’s trying to block everything out. Or block me out, I’m not sure, nor do I care. I don’t move, I don’t let him avoid me or get out of telling me the truth. After a long, painful silence, he finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I might never play hockey again.”

“What?” I gasp, shock no doubt coloring my expression, “Did Dr. Lyons say that?”

He just shrugs, opening his eyes up to meet mine. There is so much hurt, pent up frustration, maybe even some suffering in his eyes, and I instantly understand why he’s been so closed off. He’s lost. Not sure what to make of himself without hockey.

“I’m so sorry, Oren,” I whisper, my heart aching for him. “It might not seem like it right now, but everything will be okay. You are so much more than just a hockey player.”

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with doubt. For the second time since I've known him, he looks scared. The first time was when he found out about Lily and that fear faded fast, this time I’m not so sure it will be easy to get rid of. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

I lean in, pressing my forehead to his. “You’re a father, a son, a lover, a fighter. You’re kind and strong, and you will get through this. Lily needs you, Oren. I need you.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands sliding up my thighs, circling my waist with a tight grip as if holding onto me for dear life. “I just…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” I tell him firmly. “I’ll make sure you can.”

He doesn’t respond, he only wraps his arms around my back, tightening his hold on me. The pressure of his fear and uncertainty seem to crush him and everything he is battling with can be felt through his touch as he hugs me tightly. Oren views himself as broken, shattered by the ugly truth Dr. Maria gave him today. And as terrible as the news is, he’s still here. I know he is stronger than even the worst news that life could throw at him. And that’s more than enough. He just needs to realize that for himself, and I can slowly, over time, help him with it.

We sit there in silence, the minutes stretching on until it's been over an hour. His eyes are closed again, my forehead pressing into his, my hands still cradling his face. I don’t know when my comforting touch turned into something more carnal. Maybe it was my subconscious way of comforting him in a way I know he is used to. The energy between us becomes darker, more wired, and so much more powerful. There is an urgency in my touch that I can’t explain, each touch hotter than the previous. His hands rake up and down my sides, from my shoulders down past my hips. We just let each other sit in the moment, letting it build.

My fingernails trace along his jaw roughly, slipping down his neck. The mark of my nails leaves red lines down his skin. Oren’s eyes snap open, and I see his need deep in his blown pupils. The frustration, anger, passion, the need to unleash himself in a raw, unforgiving way. Without warning, he pulls me closer to him, grinding me into his lap, his erection growing quickly. His lips crash into mine with a bruising force, and his needy touch is hard against my skin. Leaving a hard, punishing reminder where his fingertips move. Each touch calls to me and I respond with just as much intensity, trying to draw out of him all of the pent-up emotions. My actions are for both of us, this side of him has what I've been craving deep down inside of me for weeks.

He grips, tugs, and removes any of the space between us like a starved man who can’t get enough. My fingers twist in his curly hair that’s grown out considerably. I tug hard at the roots, enough to make him groan into my mouth. I kiss him wildly, completely unrestrained. We tear at each other’s clothes, frantic to remove anything that stands in our way. There’s no hesitation, no holding back. I’ve never felt him like this. It is so unrestrained and so desperate, and it ignites something primal in me, something I didn’t know was there that I’ve been craving for longer than I realized.

"Oren…" I whisper against his lips, but I don’t get the chance to finish.

His teeth graze down my neck, sending a jolt of pleasure and heat that spreads through my body. His grip on me is so tight, almost too tight, and I kinda love it. I can feel the power he possesses, his frustration, his anger, his need. All of it matches mine in every way. I need this. I need him. Now.

Oren pulls back, his breath ragged, his face torn between what he wants and something that wasn’t there moments before. I feel his hands wrapped around my waist loosen, his movements becoming nonexistent. He is hesitating. I try to pull him closer, but he gently pushes me back, resisting, his hands soft, rubbing up and down my sides.

“Rachel, stop,” he says, his voice hoarse, thick with emotion. “I need to calm down first.”

“What? Oren, no. I need you.” The carnal haze begins to clear, and I blink at him, confused. “I want you like this.”

He shakes his head, his expression hardening with the guilt I thought had faded. “It’s too rough. Too…much. You don’t deserve this,” pointing between us as his voice cracks. I can still see the lust darkening his eyes, and I can also see him trying to build back the resolve that he wants to hide behind. “You’re the mother of my child. You deserve someone who’s gentle, someone who’s kind. I can’t be that for you like this. I should be that for you.”

“No,” I reach out, desperate to close the distance between us. I inhale a sharp breath because his need to protect me is starting to piss me the fuck off. “I don’t want just the gentle version of you. I want all of you. Unrestrained. Everything.”

“Rachel, I can’t,” he insists, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he caresses my face, his touch softer now. “I shouldn’t lose control with you, like this. I won’t. You deserve the best of what I can offer you.”

“ Fuck that! ” My voice rises, grabbing his wrists, refusing to let go. My body still burns, aching for him and I feel him teetering on the edge. Torn between what he thinks is right and wrong. I get in his face, my lips almost touching his, my voice demanding.

“I don't want you to treat me differently because I'm the mother of your child. I want you to fuck me. Spank me, choke me, fuck my face like I'm your dirty little whore. I can be both. Stop holding back,” I yell at him.

Maybe it was the ‘spank me’ or possibly the ‘choke me’, who knows, and I don’t care as long as it worked. What little bit of resolve he built back up snaps. He slips from my hold, pulling my wrists together tightly, tightening one of his hands around both wrists. The other hand tightens on my ass as he flips me onto my back, his body pinning me to the couch. The wildness is back in his eyes, the threat of pleasure in his eyes as they rake over my body, making my breath hitch. No matter how rough, no matter how hard, I don’t care if we break each other tonight. Feeling the real Oren will be worth it.

“Now's your chance to change your mind,” he growls, pressing his hard cock between my thighs. His voice is thick with lust, and I know he’s not holding back anymore. “Because if you don’t, I’m absolutely fucking your face until the tears stream down your face and you’re choking on my cock.”

“Use me, please,” I breathe, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice.

That’s all the confirmation he needs. Our lips collide again, this time even harder, and it’s like every touch, every kiss, is a release of not only all the pain and anger he’s felt, but also everything he's been holding back when we’ve had sex. Oren stands up quickly, dropping his pants and boxers. His dick jumps up to his stomach, as I drop to my knees in front of him, taking him into my mouth.

I can feel the weight of his cock on my tongue as I suck him deeper. He grabs the back of my head, his fingers twisting into my hair. The knuckles on his free hand gently brush down the side of my cheek before he starts thrusting into my mouth. His movements are rough and fast, his dick demanding and insistent. My body loves every minute of his unbridled actions. We have no rules in this space, no limits—just raw, unfiltered need.

I slip my fingers into my underwear, running them through the wetness that has collected from him fucking into my face like this. I apply all the pressure that I can to my clit, moving my fingers in small circles with the same frenzy Oren has. I’m so close, but I need more. I press my fingers into my aching pussy, and I move my hips into my fingers, drawing out my own pleasure as I give myself over to his. I grind harder, my inner muscles clenching as my orgasm starts to blossom. It only grows as Oren growls out in pleasure, thrusting one, two, three more times before his cum is shooting down my throat and the wetness from my own release drips down my hand.

He loosens his grip on my hair and I pull my mouth off of him with a satisfying pop as I swallow everything he gave me. I look up at him with a knowing smile because he isn’t nearly done with me yet. He pulls me up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his toned stomach. His lips and his tongue are everywhere, exploring, claiming, and it only makes me want more. I’ve never craved someone so fiercely that it feels like my entire world is centered around accentuating this feeling.

Oren pulls my nipple between his teeth, his fingers tweaking and pulling at the other as he carries me to the dining room table. He lays me out on the wood, and kisses his way down my body. His tongue laps at my swollen clit before bringing it between his lips and sucking on it with such force that my back arches off the hard surface. One hand never leaves my nipples; he just alternates between the two to make sure that I’m so close to orgasm that I’ll fall right over the edge at any moment. It's my undoing when he presses two fingers roughly into my pussy, still lapping at my clit, rotating harsh circles with his tongue every so often.

“Can my good little whore take a third finger?” Oren groans, biting into my inner thigh.

“Yes, give it to me,” I scream out as he pumps into me hard, adding an additional finger.

The intensity of his touch builds higher and higher until I’m trembling. My thighs snap shut involuntarily from the pressure of the orgasm that rips through me. I press my hips harder into his face as he urges more of my arousal from me as my muscles continue to spasm through my release.

“Fuck, Rachel,” Oren says as he draws back, licking his fingers, a hungry look on his face. “The sight of you dripping for me makes me so fucking hard.”

He rights himself so that he’s standing flush with the table. He drags my hips toward him and slams into my pussy. My muscles ache from the pleasure, still desperate for another orgasm. I dig my nails into his ass, pulling him closer.

“Fuck me harder, Samuels!” I pant out, wanting him deeper, needing more.

He pulls out of me quickly and I whimper, immediately missing how he fills me. He grabs me by the shoulders, giving my swollen lips a desperate kiss before flipping me over and pressing my chest down onto the table. He slams his cock back into me, thrusting into me so hard that the table squeaks and shifts on the floor.

“Yes! It feels so good, don’t stop.” And he gives it to me, over and over, until we’re both completely undone.

I feel my muscles grip his throbbing cock as he reaches his climax, spilling into me, his cum mixing with mine. When he finally collapses against me, we are both spent and breathless. He pulls out of me and I can feel the mixture of us dripping down my thigh. Every nerve ending in my body hums with satisfaction. More than that, there’s a sense of peace, knowing that together we can be everything that we need for each other, the gentle comfort and punishing touches.

“Damn, you are so fucking hot,” Oren says, breathless.

I giggle up at him as he scoops me into his arms and carries me to the bed, lying down beside me. He pulls me to his chest tightly. We lie there letting our breathing slowly even out, and I brush the tips of my fingers lazily over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath me.

“Thank you for encouraging me. For telling me to not hold back, letting me be who I am.” He pulls my jaw up, his lips brushing against my hair. “But I need to know that you are okay with everything that I did and said.”

His eyes search mine, looking for any sign that he hurt me or offended me in some way. But the truth is, I loved it, every single minute of it. “I will admit, I never imagined myself being someone’s dirty little whore, but I can’t wait for you to do it again.”

“Okay,” Oren presses a desperate kiss into my lips before breaking away with one last feathery touch. “I also don’t know what’s going to happen with my life next,” he says softly, the rough emotion slipping back into his voice. “But I do know that I need you, Rachel. I need this—us.”

I nod against him, feeling how powerful the truth of his words are as they settle deep inside me. “I told you, you’re not alone in this, Oren,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And I meant it. As long as you let me, I’ll be here.”

There’s a long pause, and then he pulls me even closer, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Good.”