Alex and Emma Pt. 20

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PART 20: A YEAR AND A DAY

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One Friday evening a year later, after an exceptionally non-productive day at work, I saw a ghost.

It rocked me to my core. I had moved on...at least emotionally.

Every time I'd thought of finding another Dom, I'd reminded myself of what I'd had and lost. That I couldn't take the heartache of that happening again.

The first time I'd gone to the café—our café—after Alex had left, I'd been meeting a client. I'd only acquiesced the location due to her being a student at the college and not having a car. It'd been so embarrassing that I'd had her repeat herself a few times because my mind kept wandering... remembering. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

But then I found myself returning every Friday after work. Just sitting there nursing a cup of coffee, staring at nothing. Always choosing that back-corner table where we'd sat each time since I'd seduced him after his poetry group.

I don't know what my expectations had been other than repeatedly forcing myself to wallow in misery. Maybe I was just a glutton for punishment because I guess a part of me, deep down, hoped that he'd come back although the rest said I was being irrational. He'd left, for whatever reason. Wishing he hadn't wouldn't change reality.

Which is why I was so shocked when it actually did happen.

There was no rationale, but I'd chosen today to be the day to stop torturing myself. I'd psyched myself up and taken a deep breath, pushing away the past as best as I could with my exhale. And then I'd exited through the font door with my head held high and turned right. Only to stumble backwards, thankfully not tripping off the curb and into traffic.

Even though I couldn't hear his gasp when his gaze met mine three feet away on the sidewalk, I could see his blue eyes widen. His jaw drop. How his hands fell from where he'd had them tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. The heavier rise and fall of his chest now under his burgundy shirt.

Others stepped around us like the ocean current, undeterred by the stationary rocks in its path. We just stared at each other. Breathing but not moving. Remembering. At least I was.

Alex took three steps forward, closing the distance. And then he stared again, though his eyes seemed to roam over my face.

And just like I'd only seen him last weekend, all the familiar feelings rushed back in. The racing of my pulse. The quickening of my breaths. The delicious twist down low. Merely by looking at him.

As I drew a shaky breath, he raised his hands. His palms cupped my cheeks. His warm lips pressed to mine. Lingered.

A desperate whimper passed between us.

But anger joined the rest of the emotions battling within me. At him. At myself. Because after all this time, he still affected me in ways that no other man had, including Dale. I wanted to kneel at his feet right here on the concrete and apologize to his face for anything I may have said or done to cause his disappearance last spring. To make things right between us, even if we couldn't pick up where we'd left off. Even though he'd been the one to cut and run.

When his arms started to wrap around me, I lost it. All those nights lying there in the dark wondering what had gone wrong. They had all spun together in a tight, twisted knot these past months. And now, seeing him...feeling him...it suddenly unraveled, spewing out and consuming me. I let loose on him, pounding my fists into his shoulders, my face wet with hot tears.

"Why? Why did you do this to me? How dare you come back now!"

As was his nature, he did the unexpected. Instead of releasing his hold, he tightened it, trapping my arms between us. Pulling my head to his shoulder, kissing my hair.

"Shh, Emma. I can explain."

"I don't care! There is nothing you can say—"

"Stop it, Little One," he whispered in my ear.

I tried to pull away. "Don't you dare! You bastard!"

"Enough! You're going to cause a scene. Look at me." His voice was gruff, and his hand gripped my hair at the base of my neck. He didn't continue until I looked up at him, though I was scowling. "I'm going to let go, but I want you to promise you'll listen to me. Then you can walk away. That's all I ask."

I gave him a brief nod.

"Say it."

"I will listen."

He held my gaze when I didn't add "Sir," as though he was taking on my dare to defy him, and then he did what he'd promised.

The moment he stepped back, I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. I watched how he licked his lips and ran his thumb and forefinger around his mouth a couple of times. How his chest seemed to be heaving more. I would say the same applied to me.

He looked around then grabbed my hand and practically dragged me a few feet away to a metal bench arranged within the café's minimal landscaping.

I took a seat when he gestured to bench, but I spat, "Where the hell did you go last year? I came back from my trip and found your apartment was cleaned out! No note, and you didn't answer my messages. Then my final text was returned that your number was out of service."

He sat heavily on the bench, his head dropping into his hands. "Emma, I was in jail. In Arizona."

My laugh was closer to a cackle. "You expect me to believe that? How long have you been practicing for this? Preparing your approach—you mannerisms—in the event that you ran into me again? This should be good, Mr. Writer! Pray tell, I want to hear all about your stint in the state penitentiary."

"I only wish it was a story." He glanced up at me, the absence of light in his glossy eyes telling me he might actually be serious. "I did respond to your text that I'd passed all my tests and I missed you, but it kept bouncing back that it couldn't be delivered. And when I tried to call, it wouldn't go through, either. Maybe because you were in Canada. I don't know. But I tried. Then later...well, I'd forgotten to pay my phone bill with finals and graduating distracting me. They must have shut off my service around the time you got the message."

The lump in my throat was getting bigger and bigger. I'd had the same problem with his phone number. I clamped my mouth shut. The more he talked, the more the sense of leeriness faded into guilt.

"My lease was up right after graduation. And since I would no longer be enrolled as a student, my job through the school was ending, too. I had an offer for something fulltime, but I hadn't told you yet because it was all contingent on getting my degree. A buddy was going to let me shack up with him until I found a new place. I'd already moved some stuff to his garage...the kinky boxes and my headboard and footboard, mostly. I was waiting till you got back to discuss meeting at your place in the meantime. I had it all planned."

I knew all about having everything planned. And how it usually ended up. I closed my eyes for a second then let out a heavy sigh.

He ran his hand back through his hair. "You remember Dave, the bald guy in my poetry group?"

I nodded, recollecting seeing him at least two times but never meeting him officially.

"He was a freshman. Underclassmen aren't allowed to have a vehicle on campus. At our last poetry meeting, he'd asked if we knew any juniors or seniors who would be heading his direction to Bullhead City and could give him a ride home when school let out. I'd told him to get in touch if he couldn't find someone. The week of finals, I got the call. So we packed up my car with everything from his dorm room and headed out that Saturday morning. It was only supposed to be a quick trip over the state line into Arizona and back. About three hours total in driving time. No big deal for me. We were almost there when I got a flat tire. Which meant we had to unload the trunk on the side of the Interstate to get to my spare. To make matters worse, it started to fucking pour."

I wanted to reach out and take his hand while he replayed the ordeal. But his bent-over posture with his elbows on his knees told me to leave him alone in his headspace. So I just sat there, feeling helpless.

"A cop car pulled over when I was putting on the new tire. The officer offered to help so we could get safely on our way." Alex sighed again and shook his head slowly. "I still replay the scene in my mind. One minute, the three of us were repacking the trunk. The next, the bottom of a box I had picked up fell out, dumping the contents along the shoulder of the road. Among the mess of T-shirts were little baggies of what could only be marijuana. Dozens of baggies."

"Oh, God, Alex." I could no longer resist and gripped his arm. He was shaking.

"It's hard to explain what it feels like to be led away in handcuffs with the lights flashing while knowing a drug dog was sniffing out your car. Thankfully, Dave was put in another car because I wanted to kill him. A further search of the other boxes revealed more baggies in a second box. I was arrested on charges of possession since it was my car. Dave was charged as well, but he denied any knowledge of the drugs...claimed I'd hid them in the boxes while helping him pack so I could transport them over state lines to sell. There were at least four ounces. It was a major cluster-fuck. He must have been selling on campus because I'd spent quite a bit of time with him at poetry events and had never seen him look or act stoned."

I leaned my head against his shoulder, not sure what to say.

He kissed my hair and pressed his cheek against my head, his hand taking mine when it fell to his lap. "I don't have a record, but it doesn't matter in Arizona. Any amount not for medicinal purposes gets you in trouble. I was denied bail and remanded. My phone and laptop were confiscated, apparently to find a non-existent list of contacts for buyers. After the cops ransacked the rest of my apartment and surprisingly didn't find anything, my friend was able to get in and move everything else out to his garage. Thankfully, he knew to keep his mouth shut about the kinky boxes. And then I just waited."

Our fingers laced, and we both breathed deeply together.

"The legal system in this country moves like fucking molasses. I learned to just lay low. Bide my time. God, I thought about you every night and day, Emma." He squeezed my hand and brought it up to kiss my knuckles.

"And I, you," I whispered, tilting my head back to look up at him. As much as I'd wanted to refrain from expressing my opinion until he was done, the words were out before I realized I'd said them aloud. "You got fucked, and not in a good way."

Alex smiled at me. "I held my ground and refused to take a plea deal even though the assigned public defender kept pushing for it. I begged him to try to find you...I even gave him a note for my friend to get a message to you. But my stupid-ass lawyer kept saying you must have moved because the name I'd given him didn't exist in this city and he couldn't find a phone number for you. I honestly think he didn't even try. They only let family come see me, and since I thought my friend was taking care of contacting you, I didn't tell my parents about us. They had enough on their plate with trying to raise money for a better lawyer. They're blue-collar workers who could barely pay for my education. The longer I was locked up, the more I knew the slim possibility of their efforts was slipping away. Then yesterday, my lawyer just showed up and said a guy had recently been arrested near campus at a stash house full of weed. To get a reduced sentence, he'd named his sellers...including one bald, poetic guy named Dave who went to NSC. Dave finally folded under the pressure when he was confronted by the cops again.

"Suddenly, I'm exonerated and being shipped back here to Henderson sans electronics. My friend said he never heard anything from my lawyer after the one time he was told it was okay to store my stuff from the apartment. I was so fucking pissed. I wanted to go directly to your place, but since we've only ever met at mine...well, that was impossible. I found your website last night, but I was nervous about contacting you by Email or even phone call. What if you just deleted it or hung up on me? I wanted to tell you what had happened in person. You deserved that. And I needed to see you, if only briefly. I just didn't know how to start. Your website doesn't list an address, not even for your office. My friend said he'd try to help me find you tomorrow, but I was getting antsy. On a whim, I decided to come here. I knew there was zero chance... But man, I've never felt more lost. Alone. Not even in that jail cell. I thought maybe just being here would bring some comfort."

"Oh, Alex." I dropped my eyes, chastising myself for being so defensive. For wanting to give him the riot act all these months, thinking he'd just decided he didn't want to be with me. But once I'd been able to do it, I'd not felt any better. He'd been dealing with much worse than what had kept me away from him for so long. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

He tipped my chin up with his knuckles. "Don't be at all. It's not your fault. Life can be fickle, and we got caught up in it. Who would have thought an act of kindness would have resulted in such a nightmare?"

My heart felt crushed all over again even though he was here. My voice was barely a croak when I spoke again. "I have come here every Friday for some God-blessed reason I didn't understand. There's something about the café. I guess I had hoped. But today I was giving up. I decided—"

"Shh." He kissed me.

Damnit, I had missed those lips. I wanted more, but he pulled back. It took a moment to catch my breath. "Can I ask? Did you actually graduate?"

"Mmm hmm. I didn't make it to the ceremony, obviously, but I still get my diploma and degree. I have to visit the college next week to make arrangements. All this shit that should have been handled last year and my lawyer...well..."

"Congrats. I'm proud of you regardless."

He chuckled softly. "There's the same old Emma."

I managed a small smile. "Gotta bring up my age, huh?"

His lips pressed into a firm line while his hand slid up my jaw. "How are you? Really?"

His question was gruff, his touch so gentle. Both caused my pussy to throb—my knees to quiver—making me glad I was sitting.

"Better, now," I breathed. "So much better now."

"I can't imagine what you've been thinking all this time, Emma. You must hate me."

"No, I don't." It was my turn to cup his cheek. Everything I'd wished I'd said before filled my head. Only one thing, though, mattered at this moment. "Damnit if I'm wrong to feel this way, but I love you, Alex."

"You're not. I love you, too, Emma," he whispered, finally pulling me into his embrace. He kissed me again, more passionately this time, his fingers threading in my hair.

Someone driving by whistled, and there were multiple feminine giggles before footsteps skittered away.

Alex pulled back slightly. "Mmm. We should get off the street."

"We can go inside the café," I suggested, pointing behind him.

His eyes searched mine, his tongue licking his lips. "I was thinking somewhere more...intimate. How far is your place?"

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We were both quiet as I drove to my apartment. Once inside with the door shut and locked—the sound of my keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table still ringing in my ears—I was suddenly nervous. I just stood there, staring at the wall over his shoulder.

"Probably should have asked this before I kissed you...before I came home with you," he said softly, seemingly hesitant. "But are you seeing anyone?"

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"Good. What parts of our time together do you remember most fondly?"

His deeper tone drew my eyes to his. My inhale was shaky when I saw how intently he was watching me. "All of it, really. But I'll be honest, the most meaningful were the quiet times when I was with you while you were working...just being by your side."

His nod was minute. "I remember those. Just stroking your hair."

A shudder rippled up my back at the thought. "I still have the photo you sent me. The one from your bathroom, showing me your lovely cock. I've looked at it quite a bit over the months. It's not all of you, but it's been enough. Until now."

Alex laughed. "Needy little thing."

I grinned fully. "Me or your cock?"

"You, silly."

"As much as I despised your disappearance, I couldn't stop thinking of all the good times we had."

"I was serious when I said I love you." He cocked an eyebrow, stepping closer so I had to tilt my head back a little. "What do you crave most from me? Be honest."

I sighed softly, feeling his breath caress my face. Tried not to laugh at the irony that we were finally having the conversation I'd been so afraid to have and it was Alex who had initiated it. "Your companionship. Both inside and outside of our roles. To do things like a normal couple as well as enjoy our fetishes. To just sit and talk sometimes."

"Mmm. I like the sound of all that. Very doable. A steady, sane girlfriend would be lovely. What else?"

"It was so nice to have someone to have fun with. To make him feel good. I'd like that again."

"Mmm. You definitely did." He licked his lips. "And hopefully, I made you feel good, too."

I gulped, wanting to close my eyes but also wanting to get lost in his. "Yes, always."

"I still want to." He played with a loose strand of hair beside my ear. "Ask me, and I gladly will."

For some reason, I backed up. Right into the entry table, making the small lamp there totter and the light shift around the small space before it settled. I reached out and felt my way around the obstruction, finding my back flat against the wall.

He followed me. "You just have to ask politely for what you want...or demand it."

I moaned, my eyes finally closing briefly as I licked my lips.

"Mmm. Having thoughts, Emma? My Little One?"

My mouth was suddenly so dry, my pussy so wet. And when I opened my eyes, I couldn't stop the words from flowing out. "Sir, please make me feel good. Make me yours again."

"Mmm. Details, Little One." His fingertip trailed a path down my cheek. "Tell me what you've imagined for the past year."

My breath caught in my throat. Even licking my lips again didn't help now. My words were all breathy when I opened my mouth, and my heart pounded wildly in my chest from just the thought of what I was saying. "Getting on my knees before you, head on your thigh. Sucking your cock. Having you fuck me. Reminding me I'm yours. You're mine."

And then I was doing what I'd said. Dropping to my knees, pressing my forehead to his jean-clad thigh.

Alex moaned long and deep. "Such a good girl. Just in the right spot for me to stroke your hair, smiling down at you."

I looked up to see his grin, one hand reaching for my head while the other undid his pants. Another shudder made me grip his leg.

"You'd better open wide and remind me that I'm yours." His fingers slid into my hair after he shoved his jeans and boxers down enough to pull his cock out.

As though he'd snapped his fingers, my hands went behind my back. I opened my mouth, tongue out, moaning as I kept my eyes on his from down at his feet.

He slowly stroked himself, waiving his cock in front of my lips, just out of my reach. "Beg if you truly want it."

My pussy was clenching now, my heart beating faster. I could almost smell how wet I was. "Please, Sir. Can I suck your cock?"

"Mmm. You may. But you'd better impress me. I want myself leaking into your mouth."

There in the soft light of my hallway, down on the floor, I leaned forward to lick just the tip of his cock, closing my eyes and moaning softly. Flicking the tip of my tongue across the slit, I tasted his precum. "It's been too long, Sir."

Alex moaned right along with me. "Oh, I agree. But we're going to make up for that time tonight."