Surviving Love (25 page)

“Just sleep for a couple of hours and I promise
you
I will take care of that rather big
situation.” I’m good at stroking the egos of drunks—hell, I’m a bartender; I do it for a living.
 

He smiles wickedly and then lifts his arms. I remove his shirt, and when he lays back, I unbutton his pants and slip them off. Drake rolls to his side and mumbles incoherently. Seconds later, he’s passed out, snoring.
 

This is not the night I’ve envisioned for us, but hopefully we can salvage something positive before he has to leave in the morning. I stand, stripping to my bra and panties then slip under the covers next to him. I turn on the small stereo, allowing the blues-filled voices to take me away as I fall fast asleep.
 

Drake
 

I crack my eyes open when the sound of quiet music begins to stir my consciousness. My stomach is queasy and my head is aching. I open my eyes fully to a dark apartment, and when I roll to my side, Zoe is passed out next to me. The faint blue light from the stereo is illuminating her face just enough for me to see her. She looks beautiful, as she always does.
 

I slide out of bed, noticing I’m stripped to my boxers, and walk to the bathroom. My bladder is dying right now and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I was angry at Jake’s and my conversation, which prompted me to drive to the liquor store and buy a bottle of whiskey. Two hours later, I was drunk in Zoe’s parking lot and willing myself to go upstairs. That’s the last I remember. I must have talked myself into it, considering I’m pissing in her toilet right now.
 

I flush, wash my hands and splash cold water on my face. The coolness wakes me up a little and takes me out of my drunken state. Next, I bend over and take huge drinks from the faucet, saturating my dry throat. It feels like the best drink of water I’ve ever had. I open up her cabinet and squirt some toothpaste in my mouth, using my finger as a brush. When I’m done, I feel a little more human as I quietly walk back to the bed. Zoe is sitting up, wearing her bra and panties, arousing my dick instantly.
 

“Are you okay? Do you need more medicine?” she asks with a look of general concern on her face. I feel like a douche knowing she’s had to babysit my drunken ass.
 

“No, I’m fine. Um, sorry about showing up wasted. I never meant to do that,” As I apologize, I lie down next to her on the bed. She scoots closer to me and snuggles into my arms. “Jake and I had a discussion and it pissed me off.”
 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her fingers are tracing the lines of my stomach and coming dangerously close to the waistband of my boxers. Suddenly, I have no idea why I was mad in the first place. She’s distracted me just enough.
 

I roll on top of her, settling myself between her legs. She looks up at me with hooded eyes and then they glance down to my lips. We’ve been hanging out for a while now, but I still I haven’t kissed her. I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought of it, yet I just don’t know if I can give her that part of myself. I’m too big of a pussy to give up what I had with Presley to possibly have something similar with Zoe.
 

“Kiss me, Drake.” Zoe’s voice is barely above a whisper, however the desperation is evident in her tone. Her eyes are pleading and lust-filled all in one. Her lips…they beg me to touch them with mine, yet her eyes look scared to know what it will truly mean when they do touch. I don’t
ever want to discover that. I can’t give that part of me up. I don’t think I ever will.
 

“I…I…can’t, Zoe. You know I can’t.” The guilt slices me up one side and down the other when her blue eyes flash the hurt. It kills me knowing I’m the reason the brokenness is there.
 

She releases a deep breath. “I know.”
 

I lean down and kiss the side of her face, coming very close to her lips. The heat from her breath is tickling my cheek as I hold my lips to the corner of her mouth, just outside the reach of her lips. She holds me tighter with her arms, crushing me into her body. We need to get lost in each other. This is how we can erase all the fucked-up-ness we have in our lives and find a piece of solace. We find it here, together.
 

I start to kiss Zoe down her neck, sucking her earlobe into my mouth before I travel my way down to the base of her neck. As she lets out a moan, it only encourages me to kiss her more, to kiss every inch of her body. So that’s what I do. I take my time trailing down her body, spending time on her breasts, the valley of her stomach and finally down to her waistline. I pull her panties down and toss them to the floor. Then I kiss my way back up her legs until my lips are touching hers at the peak of her thighs.
 

Soon, I’m grazing her delicately swollen clit. I take my time caressing her body with my tongue, tasting her sweet juices and savoring in the pleasure I am giving her. Zoe clenches and shakes as her orgasm rips through her body like a ramped tidal wave. She’s quaking and trembling, overtaken by the indulgence of our passion.
 

I keep placing faint kisses to the insides of her thighs and the rumble of her quaking vibrates my face. I inch my hand down my torso and wrap my fingers firmly around my dick. I start at the base then slowly move my hand the length of my cock. It’s as hard as a piece of steel and the slight upward motion feels insanely good. I am so fucking turned on as I watch Zoe come down from the intense orgasm.
 

I want her to know what she does to me. I lean up on my knees, just as she opens her eyes and they immediately affix to my dick. I start to move my hand slightly faster, watching her fall victim to me yet again with every stroke I give.
 

I’ve never been so brazen with sex as I am with her. I’ve never jerked off with a woman in the room, let alone allowed them to watch. With Zoe, though, all my inhibitions are gone. She brings out this sexual beast I never knew existed, and I like it. I like it probably too much. Even with the girls before Presley, I was never so forward. With Presley, yeah, we had hot nights I cherished, but she was far too fragile to get creative with. I would’ve never been able to slap her ass when I’m riding her from behind, or slam her into the wall. I could never pin her arms above her head and have her completely submit to me, especially after what she experienced with Robert. It was sweet and slow; never…this.
 

A small drop of come moistens the tip of my finger and I know exactly what I should do with that. I swipe my finger over the head of my dick, collecting the drop on the pad of my finger then nod my head up to Zoe. She watches closely as my finger gets closer to her mouth. “Open,” I demand and she complies. Her lips wrap around my finger and she slowly starts to suck the white pearl. I become ravenous.
 

I fall down on top of Zoe, crushing her with my weight then snag her wrists up into my
hand. Securing her hands above her head, I use my other hand to guide my dick inside of her. Zoe sucks in a deep breath through her teeth; she’s tight and I fill up her small opening. I dip my face down to hers. Out of a moment of weakness, I lean down, planting a faint kiss to the outside of her lips.
 

I want to kiss them badly right now. I want to have a night of love making and not just sex or fucking. I want a night like I used to have with Presley. Now, I want that in this moment with Zoe.
 

I succumb to the overpowering feelings and release her wrists. I put my elbows on either side of her head, and I begin to move my hips. I push myself in deep, hold my body still then pull back out. I continue this slow tortuous movement, bringing Zoe closer to the brink each and every time. I lean down and touch my forehead to hers. Our lips are close, so close I can feel the heat of her breath against mine, but I don’t move closer. I just keep moving in and out of her. Our eyes connect and we hold each other’s gaze while we make love to each other for the first time.
 

Zoe lifts her legs and wraps them around my body. She elevates her hips to match each movement of mine. Her hands find my face, palming my cheeks, yet her gaze stays affixed to mine as we move in unison.
 

The sensation of being with Zoe is overpowering me. I am feeling something new that’s been building for quite some time. And here it is. I am standing at the edge of the bridge. It’s right there for me to cross, and if I do, I will tell Zoe I want her to be mine. However, as I make love to her, holding her in my arms, I can’t will myself to take that giant step. The possibility of losing Presley in my thoughts holds me back from being with Zoe in life.
 

The heat from her hands on my face warms the ice I’ve packed around my heart. She’s been melting my icy existence from the moment I saw her. And now, I’m right there with her, the last piece of ice is starting to crumble, but it holds strong. It holds on to me, reminding me of Presley. I can’t allow that piece to disintegrate. I have to hold onto it. I have to protect the memory of Presley.
 

I start to quickly move inside of her, suddenly feeling the need to get this over with. My emotions are distracting me, and I need to break free from this treacherous prison. I clear all the thoughts from my head and focus on one thing, making her come again.
 

I push myself into her hard and deep. She accepts me when her hands release my face and come around to my ass, instructing me to push harder and deeper. Then she starts to cry out as her orgasm hits her like a crashing wave against a cliff. As I sit up on my knees and drive myself into her hard, she shakes and trembles then arches her back from the mattress. I become possessed by the pleasure she’s feeling. I ram into her a few more times and feel my release explode inside of her. It causes my own body to go weak and I collapse on top of her, fighting to find my breath.
 

We are lying face to face, forehead to forehead, and the feelings I’ve been trying so hard to suppress start colliding with my heart. I can feel myself wanting to give Zoe the more she deserves. It’s right at the tip of my tongue, but my past still holds me back. It has a choke hold on me and I don’t think it will ever release me. I’m not sure I want it to.
 

Fuck! I’m so confused.
 

That’s when the anguishing vocals of Billy Holiday’s “Gloomy Sunday” connect with my eardrums and I feel myself fall back into the pain of loss and emptiness. I’m instantly transported to the night Presley overdosed—hearing the suicidal lyrics, not knowing what I would find on the other end of the door. I’m transported back to the months just after her death, playing this song over and over and over as I mourned the loss of my love.
 

My body tenses immediately and the choke hold my past has around my heart is now sucking the air out of my lungs. I need to leave. I have to get out of here.
 

“Drake, what’s wrong?” Zoe’s voice slices into my raging thoughts.
 

I sit up on my knees and start sucking in deep breaths of air. How could I do this to her? I’m lying naked with a woman I just got done making love to when the woman I vowed to love for the rest of my life comes alive through the haunting lyrics.
 

“I…need to go,” is all I can say.
 

I fall off the bed, stumbling to my feet and looking for my clothes. Where the fuck are my clothes?
 

“Angels have no thought of ever returning you…”
The words are killing me, cutting my will to breathe.
“Gloomy is Sunday with shadows I spend it all. My heart and I have decided to end it all…”
I scramble to find my clothes, spinning in a circle when I spot my boxers at the foot of the bed. I pull them on, but all I can see is her blood. The blood on my hands—her blood on my hands. I can feel the wetness of the crimson poison. I am spinning around and I can’t find my anything. Nothing is there.
“Death is no dream, for in death I’m caressing you…”
I need to escape this song…I need to escape her. I need to escape Zoe.
 

Her warm palm grabs my forearm, snapping me back to where I am. “Drake, what’s wrong?” She is standing next to me, the sheet wrapped tightly around her body like a makeshift toga. “Please talk to me.”
 

“This fucking song,” I squeeze the words out of my strangled throat.
 

“What about this song?” She moves her hand around my back and is pulling my body to hers.
 

“Get your hands off of me.” I am shaking. The rage and anger floods back in as my heart bleeds from the loss of Presley. I can’t believe I’ve done this to her. I can’t believe I’ve been spending my nights with Zoe when Presley is still so fresh in my mind. I hate myself. I should have never looked up. I should have just disconnected myself fully.
 

My hands start to ball up as I disconnect myself from Zoe—both physically and mentally. I need to get away from her. I am recognizing the signs, and I need to move away from her immediately. The red is seeping in and at any moment the floodgates of my anger will burst. She doesn’t need to experience this.
 

This fucking song. It’s blinding my sanity as the lyrics keep me in the dreaded past—as they keep me in the pool of blood. I walk over to the stereo. I need to shut this off. When I bend down, Zoe snatches my hand up in hers, preventing me from turning it off.
 

“No.” Her voice is stern yet curious. I hate it. Curiosity arises questions; questions I never want to address. “Tell me about this song.”
 

“Zoe, I’m warning you now…shut the fucking stereo off!” I can’t hide the hatred in my
voice. I can’t do anything except keep my anger from exploding.
 

“Does this have to do with Presley?” My eyes widen then snap to hers. The boiling anger is uncapped as the explosion of rage leaves my body. I’ve hit the brink. It’s the point of no return as everything goes red and life as I know it changes.