Remember When 3: The Finale Part 3

I'd woken up that morning feeling sad and anxious, but only a few hours later, my life had begun. Trip and I had torn each other apart, and there were still so many unspoken questions between us. All those years of hurt and anguish don't just disappear in a day. But right then, I was just grateful that we were standing there wrapped up in each other's arms. Feeling him against me, his heartbeat drumming under my ear, the only thought in my brain at that moment was getting his lips back on mine again.

He kissed the top of my head and said, "We probably need to have that talk at some point."

He was right. We had a lot of baggage to sort through. h.e.l.l, we had an entire airport of baggage. But right then, I wasn't really thinking about talking, if you catch my drift.

"Trip? Do we really have to do that now?"

His shoulders shook as he laughed, and I knew victory was within my grasp.

He tipped my chin toward his face and dipped his head for a sweet, soft kiss against my welcoming lips. "Okay, fine. You're right. But I just want to say one thing." He put his hands on my shoulders, bracing me for his words. "I know you didn't marry that guy, but you need to understand that I wouldn't care even if you did. You need to know that it wouldn't stop me from taking you, right here, right now. I wouldn't even feel badly about it. If that makes me an a.s.shole, so be it. But you're mine, Lay. You always have been." His hands moved to cup my face, fixing my eyes to his. "The thing is, though, is that I'm yours. You own me. You always did. This is happening. And we're making it work this time."

I thought I was going to melt into the carpet from his words before he'd be able to take me to his bed. But take me he did.

I will not go into detail here. I'm sorry, and I know it might seem strange after everything else I've shared about our s.e.x lives. But we didn't have s.e.x that day. We made love. As corny and as sappy as that might sound, it's the truth. I will share the gritty details about our s.e.xual encounters, because that is fun and sometimes funny and most of the time, it's just hot. But when the man I love is so deep inside me it's as though we share a soul, when I don't know where I end and he begins, when he is looking into my eyes and whispering the sweetest things this side of Shakespeare... that is simply between us and no one else.

Chapter 5.

FUNNY HA HA.

Oh my G.o.d, I'm totally messing with you. Of course I'm going to tell you every detail! Can you freaking imagine if I didn't?

Chapter 6.

NEVER BEEN THAWED.

After Trip's little speech, I couldn't breathe. You're mine. I'm yours. What could I possibly say that could even compare to that?

I bypa.s.sed any attempt at speaking, and just grabbed his head, pulling it to mine in a shattering kiss.

He was mine. Mine for the taking. And I planned on taking all I could get from that man.

I slid my tongue against the seam of his lips until they opened for me, our breath mingling with one another's, the rapid gasps exchanged in frantic bursts of pure, unapologetic need.

My body thrummed in his grasp, his hands smoothing over my back, across my hips, pulling me tightly to him, afraid to let go. His low moans reverberated throughout my insides, turning me to mush. He wanted me. He needed me.

And there it was. That inevitable, electric pull we'd always shared. That all-consuming, obsessive attraction we'd never been able to deny, try as we might. It was always there. Even when he wasn't.

He stepped slightly out of my grasp, a wicked expression on his face, holding my gaze prisoner as he rolled down his sleeves, starting to get himself undressed right before my very eyes. But I stopped him when his hands went to his throat.

"No. I want to do it."

That made him smile a s.h.i.+t-eating grin, and his eyebrows raised as my hands worked the b.u.t.tons down his chest.

"Trip? Could you do me a favor and try not to look so d.a.m.n pleased with yourself?"

That made him chuckle. "I can't help it. I'm about to nail my old girlfriend in my old room. You know how many times I jerked off right there just thinking about it? And now you're here. And I totally get to rape your a.s.s."

"Yeah, um, you go anywhere near my a.s.s and you'll be whacking off alone again."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, sweetheart."

He cracked up as he pulled me toward him, reaching around my back to lower the zipper of my dress, whispering against my ear, "Don't worry, Lay. I'm gonna f.u.c.k you just right."

Yep. I hear ya. That line did it for me, too.

I s.h.i.+vered at his words, the feel of his breath on my skin. He grabbed at the neckline of my dress and pulled one side down my shoulder, kissing the bared skin there before sliding the fabric down my body.

As it pooled into a heap on the floor at my feet, I stood there feeling a bit insecure in just my bra and panties. I mean, the last time Trip had seen me naked, I was in the body of a seventeen-year-old, toned to the bejeezus. To be honest, at the age of thirty-one, things had kind of s.h.i.+fted, filled out, and well, dropped since then. To add insult to injury, I rarely worked out over the winter months, and being that it was the middle of February, I was also a.s.s-pale as well.

But Trip didn't seem to notice as he cupped my breast over my bra, testing its new weight, running his other hand over my curved hip, pulling me toward him for a kiss. Tongues entwined, I slid my palms over his bare chest to his shoulders, dropping his s.h.i.+rt to the floor as I kicked my dress away from my feet.

He suddenly turned me in his arms, pulling my back against his front as he shoved my hair away and attacked my neck. I leaned into him, raising my arms to his hair, pulling his face in tighter against my skin as his hands went to my front, groping at my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pressing himself against the small of my back. I did what any sane woman would do in that situation, which was to rise up on tiptoes so I could press my backside against the steel rod poking me from behind. He let out a groan and playfully shoved me over the footboard of his bed, my hands splaying out on the mattress to stop my fall as he pulled down my undies and gave me a slap on my a.s.s.

We both laughed when he smacked me, and I stood up, shooting him a look. "Be nice, Chester."

He pulled me to him, unhooking my bra and replying, "I will be nice. But only for so long."

The wicked smile he aimed at me shot an electric charge down my entire length-my entire naked length-as I stood there, trying to not fidget while he looked me up and down.

He was entirely way too clothed for my liking. It wasn't fair.

I went to unb.u.t.ton his slacks when I noticed his abs, and stopped short. I mean, I had just stripped off his s.h.i.+rt, but I hadn't yet really looked at him, you know?

I took a step back and appraised the sight of the naked torso in front of me. He'd always had an amazing body, but Christ. Trip had gotten freaking ripped.

I put my hands to my hips and asked, "Are you kidding me? What the h.e.l.l is this?"

My anger probably missed its mark, considering I was standing there totally nude. It's hard to be taken seriously when you're not wearing any clothes.

He knew exactly what I was talking about and was trying to contain a smile as he asked, "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "When did this happen? Jesus. Look at you! Give a girl a heads up about such a thing, huh?"

That made the smile crack his features. "What? So I've been hitting it a little harder lately. I just came off a gladiator film and I'm starting a hockey flick in a few weeks. Occupational hazard, I guess."

"Yeah. A hazard to me, maybe! Here I am with my saggy a.s.s and you're standing there looking like Michelangelo's David, you jagweed!"

He stepped closer, grabbing my b.u.t.t and pulling me into direct contact with what was a.s.suredly going to be revealed as his perfect d.i.c.k. He probably lifted weights with that thing, too. His c.o.c.k probably possessed its own set of washboard abs.

"Your a.s.s," he stated firmly, "along with the rest of you, is perfect."

I gave him a "yeah right" look.

"It's true," he said. "If I was lying, then why haven't I been able to take my eyes off you since you dropped the dress? I don't think I ever want to see you wearing clothes again. I've been standing here plotting how to keep you naked twenty-four hours a day."

"Might be kinda hard to go back down to the party. Or the supermarket. Or church."-to That made him chuckle. "Oh, it'll be hard alright. In fact..." he pulled me against his hips again, "I'd say it already is."

"Wow, that was bad."

"I'll show you bad."

"Stop talking, you r.e.t.a.r.d! Just take off your d.a.m.ned pants already."

"I'll show you r.e.t.a.r.d."

"Oh my G.o.d."

His hands went to the belt at his waist, and then he slid his zipper down. Slowly. The move would have been s.e.xy as h.e.l.l if he hadn't thrown out this line along with it: "Want me to dance for you?"

"Oh my G.o.d! Just shut up!" I chastised as we both laughed. I gave his shoulder a shove before diving into his bed and sliding under the sheets. I laid on my side, propping a hand up under my head to watch him strip.

Trip didn't disappoint.

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and he gave a little eyebrow wiggle before dropping his drawers. I will swear to my dying day that the sound that accompanied this action was: Boioioioioing!

h.e.l.lo, my old friend.

I was lying there, taking in his perfect body, watching as he climbed onto the bed and crawled over me slowly, feeling stunned and excited that he was mine for the taking.

Mine. Holy s.h.i.+t. After all these years, Trip was finally mine.

I s.h.i.+vered as he kissed his way up my body, felt his soft, hot lips grazing over the thin sheet that separated him from my bare skin. He pulled it away to plant a quick suction-kiss on my breast which better not leave a hickey before reaching into his nightstand drawer. He pulled out like a freaking magician's scarf of condoms, tearing one off and tossing the rest back into the drawer.

"Hey. I thought you said you've never brought a girl up here. What's with the Trojan army?"

"A boy can dream, can't he?"

"Whoa. Wait. How old are those things?"

Trip's brows furrowed, focused on the packet in his hand. "I don't know. Why? Do they go bad?"

Jane, you ignorant s.l.u.t.

My eyes practically rolled out of my head. "I'm guessing that's never been a problem for you, as I'm quite sure you've managed to tear through a gross of these puppies at a clip, but yeah. They have expiration dates."

He ignored my jab and checked the stamp on the packaging. Before I could get confirmation that the date was from the Clinton administration, I said, "Just forget it. I'm on the pill anyway. Unless, you know... I mean... you're... okay, right?"

He pursed his lips in a scowl before answering. "Babe. Yes. I know you won't believe me, but it's been... a while. I've been tested since then."

Ugh. I hated the clinical conversation we were having. But after all those years apart, there was no way we were waiting another minute to sleep together. We'd waited long enough. But the fact was, Trip was a bit of a... popular guy during his twenties. And even though he'd recently professed himself to be a one-woman-man... well, sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas, you know what I'm saying?

But thank G.o.d for small favors, because it seemed the extracurricular activities of his past weren't about to affect our present.

I gave him the wide eyes and tossed out, "Looks like we're going bareback, baby."

"Yippee-ki-yay, motherf.u.c.ker."

I laughed at that, until his expression turned serious. He brushed a sweet, soft kiss against my lips, then said, "Hey Lay?"

"Yeah?"

"A lot of women... they, uh... they expect me to be some sort of s.e.xual dynamo between the sheets."

"Kinda tacky bringing up other women right now, don't you think?"

"Sorry."

"Besides. I'm not a lot of women."

"Oh, I know that. I'm just trying to give you a heads up about what to expect here. Because I totally am."

The kiss he planted on me was enough to stop our laughter, as I felt his hot, sweet lips slanting fiercely across my own. His tongue invaded my mouth, the taste of him sweeter than ever. His scent a.s.saulted my inhales, the same crisp, clean smell that had always been a part of him.

I ran my hands up his sides, making him flinch and causing me to shudder. There were new planes of his body to explore, this foreign land of bulges and b.u.mps along his arms, his chest, his stomach. I was taken aback by the feel of him, the firmness at my fingertips, the smooth skin covering the solid knots of muscle under my palms.

Trip was doing some exploring of his own.

His hands roved over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, between my legs, his breathing coming out in ragged moans against my neck as he pressed his hardened length into my thigh. I grabbed his hair in my fists, directing his mouth to mine once again, writhing underneath his touch, groaning with stinging need, reveling in the staccato beats of my quickening heart.

He positioned his body between my legs and pushed himself against me, just the tip of him teasing at my entrance, his face buried in my neck, his voice rasping, "Oh G.o.d, Lay. I've only got so much restraint, here. I need to be inside you."

Chapter 7.

a.s.sISTED LIVING.

The ache in his voice caused the tremors to start, made my heart race with antic.i.p.ation. He was always able to do this to me. Always able to drive me over the brink with just a few spoken words, a few well-executed touches. Oh, please. Who am I kidding? He could look at me the right way and it was enough to make me fall to pieces.

I know it may seem odd that we were hooking up while the repast was still happening downstairs. But I didn't let myself feel too guilty. Trip was ent.i.tled to a little happiness after all he'd been through. We were allowed to embrace life.

I ran my fingers over the pale scars at his forearm, the remnants from when he broke it years before, a faint reminder of the self-destructive boy he once was. It was at total odds with the reformed man in my arms, the generous, thriving person he'd become. It wasn't an easy transition to make, and he'd worked really hard to come so far.