CHAPTER 61

It took Connie several seconds to make sense of Kevin’s decree. It was not what she had expected. The proverbial ball had been tossed back to her and its implication was clear. He expected her to believe him when he denied any betrayal. He expected her trust. His hand hung, suspended in front of her face. The decision to come back to Orlando at all had been a leap of faith for her. Now, he was asking for more.

She risked a glance at Kevin’s face. He was stern and somber. The emotionality she saw a few minutes ago was gone, having been replaced with an expression of willfulness and control. Connie briefly wondered what he would do if she refused his command – if she said ‘no’…. As the seconds passed, a crease developed between his brows. He was becoming frightened by her hesitation.

*****

Come on, Connie! Come on, come on, come on…. Take my hand… You know I love you! You know it… Show me some faith, baby…. Come on… Take it, take it!…

When Connie lowered her eyes, he felt like he had taken a punch in his gut. The air in his lungs escaped in a slow sigh as his arm fell back to his side. Kevin detected motion in his peripheral vision and turned his head to see that Hank was moving forward, his mouth sliding into an exaggerated scowl. The battle was over and he had lost…

Then he felt it – the touch of Connie’s fingers curling around his.

*****

The ride to Orlando was made in complete silence. It was dark in the SUV and Kevin had to keep his eyes on the road. The rain had gotten worse and they were both physically and emotionally exhausted. Neither of them was capable of thinking more than five minutes into the future.

When they reached Kevin’s house, the sky was beginning to lighten and the rain had stopped. Under normal circumstances, Kevin would have shown her around and told her where things were, but this situation was not ‘normal’. He led her by the hand to the hallway that fed to the bedrooms and stopped. His bedroom was to the right. A smaller guestroom opened to their left. Kevin would leave the choice to her.

Connie glanced through both doors, hesitated for a moment and then reached around Kevin to take her bag that he carried in his free hand. She could feel his left hand tighten around hers. He was reluctant to release her and she had to tug a little in order to free herself. One more look passed between them, full of uncertainty, and then Connie turned to the left, entered the guestroom and closed the door, leaving Kevin to stand alone in the hallway.

*****

Hannah awoke with a start as the beeping of her cell phone broke the early morning silence. She had finally fallen asleep while sitting up in bed staring at a muted TV, waiting for some word from Kevin. He had promised to call as soon as he knew anything. It must be him. Who else would be calling at this hour? Her tongue felt coated and spongy as she jerked the phone up to her ear.

“H-hello?”

“Hannah, it’s Kevin…”

She couldn’t tell much from the three words he had spoken. His tone seemed very neutral – too neutral, as if it were an effort to maintain its flatness. Considering Kevin’s state of mind when he hauled ass out of Clearwater, this might be a good sign.

“Where are you?” she asked, trying to match his neutrality. “Did you find….”

“Yes. We’re here at my place in Orlando.”

Hannah’s shoulders slumped in relief as she fell back on the bed pillows.

“Is she alright? Can you speak to her for me?” The silence that met her questions caused her some alarm. “Kevin? Are you there?”

“Yeah. Yes, Hannah. She’s okay…”

“Talk to her for me…”

Kevin’s reply was prefaced with a deep sigh, revealing to Hannah – not only his exhaustion – but his state of mind. It had seemed shaky, as if Kevin was hiding something or trying to control himself. The waver in Kevin’s voice substantiated her initial perception when he spoke again.

“Uh… She’s asleep – I think.

Hannah suspected that there would be an addendum to his reply. Two heartbeats later, Kevin continued.

“…in the guestroom…”

It didn’t take long for Hannah to understand the implication.

“I see. The guestroom…”

“Yes.”

“Did you explain…”

“God dammit, Hannah! I haven’t been able to talk to her! She can barely look me in the face!”

Hannah could be surly, too. “She went with you, didn’t she? Did you force her into your truck?” She could hardly hear his answer.

“No…”

“A lot has happened in the last fourteen hours, Kevin.”

“I know…”

The conversation ended soon after Hannah told Kevin that she would be flying back to New York later that day. She asked him to tell Connie to email her as soon as possible. What she really wanted to do was go to Orlando and oversee this delicate reunion, but she wouldn’t. Connie would have to listen to her heart and not the opinions of others.

*****

After Kevin hung up with Hannah, he flopped down on the sofa and tried to get his brain back on a logical track. He was almost afraid to sleep for fear that Connie would escape while he did. Then his face began to crumple and he pressed it into his hands trying to contain the remnants of worry, fear, relief, frustration and exhaustion that he could no longer suppress.

He needed sleep badly but he needed to move past all of this badly, too. Kevin had always been good at compartmentalizing his life but now, it was all running together and the part of his life that he needed to keep safe and separate was in danger of being permanently damaged due, in part, to his good intentions. By the time he had realized the depth of his feelings for Connie, he had also come to realize how fragile she was. Kevin’s attempt to protect her had backfired. Protection had become deceit.

He had to go to bed but first he would write Connie a letter – give her something tangible that she could see and hold in her hands. Something she would see when she woke up. Something she could think about before they faced each other again.

An hour later, Kevin had finished his explanation. He had used several sheets of paper, starting, stopping and beginning again until he felt the words were right. It would have been easier for him to write musical notes. He wished he could play his feelings for her. Words didn’t seem to be enough. When he had finished, he folded the five sheets of paper and carried them back to the guest room.

The door was unlocked. He could see Connie sleeping on her side, back to the door, rusty colored waves of her hair warming her bare back. Her shoulders were uncovered. She had fallen into bed half-naked, too tired to bother with changing. He stood for a moment, allowing himself to imagine that yesterday had been nothing but a bad dream – that things were solid between them and that he would be welcome in her bed. He could almost see himself climbing between the sheets and hear her grumble good-naturedly at the disturbance before she rolled over and nuzzled her face against his neck. She would complain about my face feeling bristly and I would threaten to shave off all my facial hair and she would pout and tell me that I’d better not….. Kevin smiled slightly at the memory of their words, which had seen repeated several times. Then I would tell her that she’d better be nice to me then and she would be nice… Oh, so nice…. Kevin shook himself back to reality and examined the papers in his hand one more time before leaning them against the lamp on the night table beside the bed. Connie still hadn’t moved. She hadn’t opened her bag, either. It stood, still zipped, beside the small chest of drawers. She’d tossed her clothes over the back of a nearby chair. He permitted himself to gaze at her for a few moments more and then he backed though the door, closing it behind him.

Chapter 62

It was a dream that shook Connie awake. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare - more like one of those intensely disturbing dreams that one can’t quite remember when they wake up. The kind of dream that fades with a speed that is in direct proportion to your desire to recall it. The kind that will tease you for days with little flashes of memory too pale and too fleeting to grasp.

It took her several moments to remember where she was. The surroundings were unfamiliar but she wasn’t afraid. The feel of her own nakedness beneath the sheets prompted recollections of earlier hours and she turned her head to the empty space beside her. She was alone and the smoothness of the bedcovers indicated that she had remained alone since she fell into the bed at dawn.

A clock on the night table caught her eye. It was almost eleven AM. Behind the clock, leaning against the base of a lamp, stood several sheets of white paper – the kind used in computer printers. Connie could see black scratches dancing across the top page and knew immediately who had made them. She squinted her eyes trying to bring the salutation into focus. Darling Connie….

Memories of Clearwater, Lakeland and the bus station flooded her mind and she closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the overload at bay. Finally, she pulled herself into a sitting position, pulled the sheet up to cover herself and reached over to retrieve Kevin’s written attempt to explain, soothe and sustain.

*****

Kevin usually slept very soundly, particularly when he had been awake for a very long time or when his body was trying to compensate for emotional or mental fatigue. In the last two days, he had probably only rested for six to eight hours total, but now his body battled his brain for a respite from the turmoil he had suffered. His restlessness was an indication that his brain was winning but his body was closing in. Right now, the two were tied. Kevin managed to sleep but he slept fitfully.

Connie couldn’t hear his moans and murmurs from the doorway of his room but she could see that he was restless. He had kicked the covers to the foot of the bed and turned in his sleep, as if he were trying to get comfortable. She watched him for several minutes, unsure of what to do. She had already read his letter several times. It had not been flowery or glowing or full of excuses and blame. He had scratched out some words, attempting to express himself carefully as he explained what he knew of yesterday’s events and the misunderstanding that ensued. Some might describe most of the letter as cold and factual but Connie had seen something more. She had seen Kevin’s weariness – weariness that was tinged with a touch of hope that she still had faith in his feelings for her. The letter was written by a highly charged and emotional man who was trying to be totally objective. He was successful until he reached the end of his missive.

“…..and I know that the evidence is stacked against me which means that it’s stacked against us. You have reasons to doubt. You have reasons to feel like you need to protect yourself. You even have reasons to feel used. In many ways, I have used you, Connie. You’ve made me feel powerful and I admit that I like that. You’ve made me feel worldly and I like that, too. But most of all, you’ve made me feel love and I like that most of all. For the first time I can remember, I have personal goals and those goals include you. I felt, at one time, that you needed me. I pray that you still do. Don’t you know that you’ve shown me that I am capable of living a complete life – one that doesn’t begin and end with tour schedules and promotion? A life that can revolve around two people and not a dozen? I want you to feel safe and loved. Selfishly, I want to feel that, too. I feel it with you. Don’t take that away from me. I didn’t mean to hurt you but I know I did. I meant to protect you – to protect us. I don’t know what else to say except that I love you…”

The letter was now tucked in her suitcase – the one Kevin had brought with him when he left Clearwater to look for her. Presumption had not been a factor when he brought her things with him. What some might consider assumption had actually been the hope that he would find her and bring her to his home where they would be together and happy. It wasn’t confidence that had brought him this far, it was fear.

If she’d had any doubts before, Kevin’s heartfelt and somewhat awkward letter had weakened them. Now, as she stood watching him sleep, his brows furrowed as he tossed, those doubts were erased. This is where she needed to be. This is where he needed her to be. Still clad only in white lace panties, she moved to the foot of his bed, wondering what to do. Should I call out to him? Should I let him sleep? Should I shake him?

She opted to crawl into his bed.

They lay on their sides now, facing each other and Connie felt her muscles loosen in relief. She had made her decision. Her acceptance to believe had come, not only from his written words, but from her gut and now she felt a sense of peace. The morning light was subdued but bright enough for her to study the contours and countenance of Kevin’s face as he slept. His skin was damp with a thin film of perspiration and his brow was furrowed, even as he slept. Long black hair fell back away from his face except for a small cluster of strands that threatened to cover his eyes. An irregular pattern of stubble peppered his cheeks, the result of his not having shaved in almost two days.

Connie’s eyes fell to his neck and down to his bare chest which rose and fell with random and shallow breaths, further evidence his restlessness. She lifted her finger and began to trace the scattered hairs that grew there, giving in to the need to feel their texture and the warmth of his skin against the pad of her forefinger. As soon as her fingertip made contact with his body, he stiffened and jerked, startling her and causing her eyes to jump back to his face. He was staring at her, his eyes filled with questions and tears.

Connie gasped in surprise and instinctively withdrew her finger but Kevin grabbed her wrist before she could get away and pushed her hand against him so that the palm of her right hand covered his left nipple. He held her hand there as he studied her though a thin veil of tears, watching her eyes widen in surprise at his wakefulness. The fact that she had come to him complicated his reaction. He hadn’t expected this and decided to test his hope with a whispered demand. Connie’s gaze fell to his lips as he began to form his need with words.

“Touch me, Connie….”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed a bit as he gauged Connie’s reaction to his words and for a moment she thought about how difficult this must be for him. Kevin had asked for her touch in the same way that a hungry man might ask for food.

As her fingertips moved slowly down his ribcage, she felt him tense. His expression remained serious and somewhat analytical, his eyes never wavering from hers as her hand brushed over his hips and across the slippery silk of his boxers. This was no time to tease – his need for reassurance was too great and so Connie moved her hand to the placket of his underclothing and cradled his manhood in her hand, marveling at the immediate reaction induced by her gentle touch. Visual contact was broken as Kevin’e eyes closed and his lips parted. He almost looked as if he were in pain. Connie raised herself up on one elbow and placed her free hand at the base of his neck, letting her sensitive fingers absorb the vibration of his pleasure. Soon her cradling evolved into caresses and Kevin rolled to his back.

He couldn’t stop the movement in his hips and he couldn’t open his eyes, even as he felt one of Connie’s hands pushing the silk down his thighs and off of his legs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had imagined himself pleasuring her, not the other way around and yet he couldn’t end this. He couldn’t…. It was almost as if her fingers were speaking to him – timid at first and then more confident. As he felt himself grow and harden, he wondered if he could hold on. Already, he felt as if he could explode, but he wouldn’t let himself - not like this. He craved her touch but he didn’t want her to bring him to orgasm. Not this way. As intimate as her ministrations were, they were sill too sterile…too removed. He had to spill himself inside of her, not in her hand or on his belly. For a brief moment, Kevin was overcome by doubt. Did Connie want this distance? Did she want to jerk him off to keep him from penetrating her? Was this some sort of appeasement? He was afraid to open his eyes so that he could read hers – afraid that his doubts would be realized. He didn’t want to push her. He couldn’t deny his need for release but his greater need was for intimacy, connection and love.

Then he felt it. He was suddenly enveloped in a cocoon of heat as her mouth covered the end of his shaft. Kevin’s eyes flew open as her gentle, rhythmic suction threatened to push him into oblivion and beyond. His pelvis rose to meet her mouth and heard himself groan with a combination of protest and bliss. Christ, the sweat was pouring off of him as he tried to contain himself. He was getting close. His testicles were practically screaming. He had to stop this.

Connie felt his large hands push into her hair and press against her head as he pulled her off of him. She didn’t know what was happening at first. She didn’t know why he wouldn’t let her finish him off. He liked it when she went down on him. He liked to cum down her throat and he liked to kiss her afterwards – deep kisses that stirred the salty sweetness of his lingering seed. She didn’t understand. He eyes squeezed shut, forcing hot tears down her cheek.

Then she felt his fingers comb through her curls and his hands move down the side of her face. Kevin’s thumbs wiped away her tears and her eyes opened. He was breathing heavily, rivulets of sweat creeping down the sides of his face. Kevin’s expressive brows were drawn together beneath his furrowed forehead. He looked very emotional – as if he could cry. He pulled her face close to his so she could watch him speak.

“You make me feel so fucking good, Connie. You know that, don’t you?” She didn’t respond. She still didn’t understand and Kevin could see her confusion. “I love to feel you on me, like that. I love for you to love me that way…” He paused long enough to brush an errant curl back behind her ear. “….but I need to love you, too. I have to show you. Do you understand?”

A whimper rose in the back of Connie’s throat. “I – I hope I do…” she whispered.

Kevin sighed at brought her mouth to his. The substantiation of his passion began with tender, feathery kisses and ended with cries of mutual relief, love and a renewed commitment. Their world had grown very small. For a few sweet hours, no one existed except them.