Before You: Standalone Contemporary Romance (15 page)

“You can leave if you want. This wasn’t part of our agreement. Feelings are against the rules.”

He lowered his head and rested his forehead against my temple. I felt his warm breath wash over my face as he spoke. “Rules are like promises, Willa. They get broken all the time.” He pulled back slightly, and I turned to meet his eyes. “I don’t even know why we made any. We never followed a single one.”

My eyes grew blurry, and I inhaled a shaky breath, wrapping my hand around his forearm and holding tight. “Be with me, André. Stay with me. Just until I don’t need you anymore.” A tear slid slowly from my eye. He wiped it away with his thumb.

So gentle.

“That won’t be enough,” he objected in a ragged whisper.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice but a whisper, my heart beating so loud in my ears that I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hear his answer.

“I’m saying that I think I need you too.”

I let out a weighted gasp, my hand sliding to his wrist as his fingers brushed through my hair. Then his lips met mine, pressing lightly before brushing, sucking, moving slowly, as if this was the first time, or perhaps the last time we ever kissed.

All the other times blew my mind. But this time, the kiss made its way into my heart and attempted to repair the cracks that had turned it cold and convinced me that I should spend my life alone to protect myself against anymore loss.

The moment that thought entered my mind, my fear began to take hold. I began to shake.

“It’s OK,” he whispered, sensing my mental withdrawal. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

A whimper escaped my throat as my arms went around his neck, and I held on tightly and kissed him back. He did the same. He held me tight and kissed me with such passion that I wished our bodies could fuse and stay that way.

“I don’t want you to fuck me anymore,” I whispered, my hands moving down his muscular back as his kisses moved to my neck, and his hand slid up my thigh.

“I’m not going to,” he murmured, lifting my nightdress to expose my smooth stomach. He kissed and licked, spending time on every part of me before he lifted my nightdress over my head and took a moment to look down at me with soft eyes. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

I smiled and looked up at him, reaching up to touch the side of his face. “So are you.”

Removing the last of my clothing, he gently kissed the inside of my thighs before pressing a kiss just above my mound.

“Relax,” he said with a slight growl as his hands slid under my thighs, and his tongue flicked lightly over my center. He moaned, licked lightly again, then covered me with his mouth, sucking and swirling in a way that had my mind lose all concentrated thought.

My fingers went into his hair, and my thighs clamped around his head. My mouth opened, and my body released an orgasmic burst that sent me floating up off the bed until he very gently brought me back down with soft laps of his tongue, then kisses up my body, and finally, kisses on my mouth.

I could taste myself on him, something I’d never done before him, and something about knowing that was me in his mouth and that I was the reason for the growl in his throat and hardness between his legs, made me feel even closer to him.

“I don’t have a condom with me,” he whispered, kissing my neck, and then my ear.

“I’m on the pill,” I returned, not wanting him to leave my arms. I wanted him inside me. Just him.

He pulled back and looked down into my eyes. “I’ve never done this without one,” he said, looking nervous.

I slid my hand over his firm chest to his shoulder. “Neither have I.”

I saw the understanding in his eyes. I saw the emotion there too, and I knew this moment meant a lot to the both of us. Neither of us was willing to say it out loud, but this was the first time that either of us had made love. And we were both nervous and shaking as he removed his boxers and positioned himself at my entrance.

“Willa,” he whispered. “I...”

“I know,” I said, understanding what this meant without him having to say it. I felt it.

I felt it.

Three words that meant so much. They hung in the air, unsaid. But we knew they were there.

Everything was changing.

When he pushed inside me, my mouth opened wide as he moved back and fourth, gently pushing until he was all the way in. We were joined. As deep as we could get. And there was nothing between us.

Nothing.

“Willa,” he breathed, moving his hips with mine, slow and steady, his breath ragged, his eyes locked with mine and so filled with the exact emotions that were flowing through me. We meant something. What we had was
something
, and in that moment, it didn’t feel as though it would
ever
be out of our systems.

“André.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, rocked with him, gasped with him, and eventually, I came with him, almost crying from the exquisiteness of it.

***

“I
’m sorry,” I whispered.

André and I were both lying on our sides facing each other, our arms were tucked up under our pillows, and the only thing touching were our entwined legs.

“What is there to be sorry about?”

I rolled my eyes a little, trying to keep the prick behind them at bay. “Me. I’m a mess, André.”

He looked at me for a long while, his face giving nothing away as he studied me, his green eyes thoughtful before he finally spoke.

“My mother didn’t like living in America,” he started, his voice low and serious. “She would travel back to Germany as often as she could to see family, to see friends. She always traveled alone.” He paused and took a breath, his eyes getting a faraway look as he seemed to enter an unhappy memory. “I was never allowed to go with her though. When I was seventeen, she returned one last time and informed my father that she was leaving him. She’d fallen in love with his brother.”

He rolled onto his back and looked up to the ceiling, and I waited, knowing there was more to come, knowing this was important, but afraid at the same time at what he would say.

His hands went to his head, pressed against his forehead, and I could hear his breathing escalating. “My...” His voice cracked. “My father didn’t...” He paused to clear his throat and blow out his breath. I could see his eyes were shining. He was avoiding my gaze.

“André,” I whispered, placing my hand on his chest in support. He took it and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, then returned it to the space over his heart, pressing it there as if the combined force of us both would keep his heart in place.

“My father didn’t take it very well,” he continued, turning his gaze back to me. My throat thickened, seeing the emotion welling in his eyes. He rubbed his free hand over his face and turned away again. “Jesus,” he breathed. “This is harder to say than I thought it would be.”

“It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything if it hurts too much.”

He nodded, wiping his eyes again, and I noticed his lip trembling as he tried to breathe. “He um...didn’t take it well,” he tried again. “And...and while she was packing, he...” He lifted both his hands and mine, pressing my palm against his eyes. I could feel the damp against my palm. I could hear the fear and the strain in his breath, and I just waited, staying quiet until he was ready – if he was ready. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to tell me, and my heart was breaking for him as I watched him struggle with a memory he so obviously didn’t want to face.

I slid closer, pressing myself against him, trying to offer some of the comfort he’d so willingly been offering me. Then with a ragged breath he continued, our hands still over his eyes.

“He had one of those old fashioned razors – the ones you have to sharpen on a leather strap.” His body shook violently as he said the next part in a hoarse whisper... “He used it to cut her throat.”

Tears sprung to my eyes as I felt his body quake.

“I was out with friends,” he forced out. “And when I got home, he was sitting in his chair with the razor in his hand. He was covered in...in her blood. He told me he was sorry. He looked at me. Said he was sorry. Then he dragged the razor across his own throat.”

“Oh god, André,” I gasped, immediately moving to sweep him into my arms and hold him the way he was always holding me.

“I tried,” he cried. “I tried to stop it. But there was just. So. Much. Blood. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t.”

He cried against my chest, his body shaking violently with his sobs. I held him as tight as I could, and I kissed him in his hair, rocking him, crying with him, supporting him as he relived his nightmare.

My poor broken beautiful man.

I held him tighter.

He was damaged.

I kissed him harder.

We
were damaged.

Everything made sense.

Our souls needed each other.

Eventually, he sat up and wiped at his face and then mine, looking into my eyes with his own red-rimmed eyes. “So you see,
Liebling.
I don’t think you’re a mess at all.”

“André,” I whispered, running my fingers through the stubble on his cheeks before leaning toward him and pressing my lips to his.

“Willa,” he returned, deepening the kiss as he wrapped me in his strong arms, slowly lowering me back onto the bed as we lost ourselves in each other’s bodies and tried to fix each other’s broken hearts. We knew we never would, but we understood what we were and why we were. We were connected by our pain. And we were exactly what the other needed.

I had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing that mattered.

––––––––

I
let out a squeal as Dave burst into my room.

“Please tell me André wasn’t bringing girls back here while I was gone. I just found a trash bag hidden in the bathroom full of fucking condoms...”

Dave’s voice trailed off as his eyes left me and shifted to my bathroom door where André was standing in his boxers. I was still in bed, and thankfully, I’d put my nightgown back on...

“What is this?” He was seriously dumbfounded, unable to believe what he was seeing before him as his eyes shifted between us, first looking at me then at André.

“Dave. I can explain,” I said quickly, holding up my hands as I watched the look on my brother’s face change from curious to stormy in a matter of seconds.

“You gave me your word,” he directed at André, his voice becoming aggressive as his body tensed.

“It’s not what you think,” André started. “I mean, it was, but it isn’t. She isn’t like the others.”

“You fucking cunt,” Dave growled.

“Stop!” I yelled, jumping off the bed and rushing for André at the same time Dave did. “No, Dave.”

I wasn’t as fast as Dave, and I swear that André just stood there and let him punch him in the face. André rocked back slightly, but he didn’t fall.

“Feel better?” André asked.

“Not even a little,” Dave said, right before he punched him again.

“
Dave!
” I shrieked, jumping in front of André to shield him from another of Dave’s attacks. “What is
wrong
with you?”

He held up his finger and pointed directly at André. “Him. He’s what’s wrong with me. Pack your bags. I don’t want your stinking German hands touching my sister.”

“Dave, don’t you dare,” I warned, looking up at him, my back pressed up against André as if I could physically protect him from my brother.

André’s hands took a hold of my shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted.”

“But
I
want you,” I argued.

“I know.” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing me and heading out the door.

“You’re an asshole,” I spat at Dave as I moved to follow André.

Dave grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Willa, let him go. You don’t know him like I do. You don’t need a guy like him in your life.”

“No, Dave.
You
don’t know him like
I
do. And I
do
need him. You don’t understand what he means to me.”

“No, Willa, you don’t understand. André uses women.”

I cut him off before he could say anymore. “And you don’t?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you not getting mixed up with a guy who’s going to hurt you.”

“Don’t you think that’s my choice to make? And what about him? What about him getting mixed up with someone who’s going to hurt him? I don’t exactly have a stellar record when it comes to relationships.”

“You aren’t the problem and you know it.”

“Yes, I am, Dave. I’ve been so scared of people leaving that I’ve barely let anyone in. My friends don’t really know me. You are the closest person to me, and we only spoke on the phone before...well...all this mess. André is the first person I have let get even a little close to me in a very long time. And right now, I need him. We need each other. If we mess it up, then so be it. But, you can’t stop me from seeing him, and you can’t stop him from seeing me.”

Dave worked his jaw from side to side as he stood in front of me, hands on hips. “He fucking gave me his word.”

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I gave him a half smile. “You know André, Dave. You should have known he couldn’t keep it. The man has impulse control problems.”

He shook his head. “Yeah. He fucking does. Which is why you should stay far away from him. You already struggle with me going out there, how are you going to cope when he goes on assignment? What happens if you fall in love with the guy and he has to go?”

My chest tightened, and I found it hard to swallow. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it.

Dave saw the change in my expression and let out a sigh before he brought me in for a hug. “I’m just trying to look out for you, little sis,” he said into my hair as I forced myself to calm down. I knew André worked the same job as Dave. I knew him leaving was inevitable. But, I hadn’t actually thought about how I’d feel when it happened.

“I know you are,” I whispered.

He kissed me on the forehead. “Let him go, OK?”

I didn’t think I could.

***

“A
re you really leaving?” I asked André from the doorway to his room. He was putting things into a brown leather travel bag that had seen better days.