Chapter 25 The Ribbon
Foster
I woke to a crushing headache and Mila face-down in my bed.
Standing up and fighting the nausea, I take in her sleeping form.
Her shirt has ridden above her waist and tiny black shorts are hugging her curvy ass.
I risk waking her up by moving her foot out and spreading her legs. She stirs but doesn't open her eyes.
Wish I'd taken her from behind more often when I had the chance, but I liked to watch her face when she came. So sexy. Damn. You love someone forward and backward and still lose her. It's not fair, but life ain't fair. Learned that a long time ago.
What the hell happened last night, and what the hell is she doing here?
I remember thinking someone was there.
I pulled out my shotgun.
She was standing by the cabin like a vision.
Felt like I'd lost my damn mind .
It's a little blurry after that. There was some water involved and now here she is sleeping in my bed. I hope I didn't fuck her and forget it. That would suck. I'd want to remember that.
I change out of my damp shorts and pull on a shirt and jeans. My eyes look bloodshot, my beard is out of control, and my hair is shit.
What did I say to her? What am I going to say to her?
Luckily she sleeps through my breakfast and gives me some time to take ibuprofen and wake the hell up.
After a good long hour of watching her gorgeous ass sleep, she wakes up. She pulls her hair from her face and looks around. Our gazes lock and it's like before. She captivates me and I'm hooked.
She groans and flops her head down, her mass of brown hair covering her face again.
"You need to get the hell out of here." My voice is rough like I'm chewing on tree bark.
Her brow scrunches and she props her torso up on one arm. "Excuse me?"
"Get your ass back to New York." I have to clear my throat to get the words out.
"No," she says like the spoiled rich brat she pretends to be. She puts on a convincing show, but the real Mila is sweet, kind, and down-to-earth. I've seen through her rich-girl act since day one.
"No?"
"No," she says again. Oh, I like this side of her. She's the one who showed up at my place and forced herself in. She's an unwelcome house guest and she's saying no to me?
"My place. My rules. You leave."
When her gaze meets mine again, it's hard to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up. The place is trashed. I look like a baseball player at the end of the World Series. The Foster she knew kept a clean apartment and a shaved chin.
"Actually, it's my place." She seems oblivious that she's talking nonsense.
Have we had this absurd discussion before?
"What the hell are you talking about?" I keep my voice angry because she seriously needs to leave before I grab her cute little waist and bang her on this kitchen table. Damn. I can't even entertain thoughts like that but the desire is strong. She's breathtaking even though she just woke up and she's saying stupid stuff.
"I own the deed. Henry left it to me."
Her mention of Henry jabs my heart. I miss the man. And what does she think she's saying?
"He did not. He left it to me. I got the papers. "
She climbs out of the bed and wanders over to a set of pink luggage by the door. Her initials are embossed on it in large black cursive letters.
She withdraws an envelope from an outer pocket and waves it in the air. "So did I," she says like a lawyer presenting the clinching bit of evidence.
"Henry," I can barely get his name out without choking up, "wrote you into his will?"
"That's what it says." She walks over and slaps it on the table.
But I'm gone. I'm not here. I'm with Henry the night I said goodbye to him.
Go get her . Watch out for Pleasure Mountain . People tend to fall in love up there .
He cared about me.
Henry wanted her for me.
And he set this up to push us back together.
I have to squeeze the bridge of my nose to hide the riot of emotion that assaults me. I was a stranger to Henry, and he loved me like his own blood. He didn't have to do it. He stopped and picked up a soaking-wet kid and took me in. For the first time, I had a home and a father I could trust. After knowing him, I had no argument anymore that the world was unkind and unjust. The man was true through and through. He wanted me to take his name and I did. I'm Foster Twist now because of him.
"I'm sorry you lost Henry," her soft voice pulls me back to the kitchen.
I run my hands through my hair and sigh. "Me too."
We sit quietly for a long time remembering Henry's presence in our lives. "Can I get a cup of coffee?"
"There." I tilt my head toward the pot I'd made earlier. "It's not the swanky kind you're used to. It's basically dirt from a can."
"I do not need swank in my morning joe. If it has caffeine, it works for me."
She opens the fridge and helps herself to my milk, which I'm not sure isn't expired. This also doesn't seem to bother her as she sits down at my messy table. The envelope waits between the chaotic mess of mail, cups, and tools.
She calmly takes a sip of coffee and it's all too much. Mila is sitting in the middle of my self-imposed isolation. She hurled herself into my torture chamber like it's nothing. She's crossing so many lines, I can't keep track.
"So you're here to fight over this property? You could have sent a lawyer to do that."
"Not here for the land, Foster."
"Why'd you come here, Mila?"
"I thought you might be here. And you are. My dad said he killed you."
"Your dad is a fucking liar. Clearly not dead." I motion from my head to my feet. I look like hell, but I'm not dead.
"Thank God."
She's happy I'm not dead. I wish that didn't give me hope, but it does.
"We broke up, Mila. You didn't want to leave your dad for me. Didn't trust me to keep you safe here. That change?"
"Everything's changed."
Holy shit. Everything's changed? Like she's going to walk back into my life?
"Nothing's changed. You chose him over me. Wrecked me."
She stands up and walks closer to me. "I didn't choose him over you. I didn't handle it right. If I could do it over, I would've grabbed a bag and ran down the fire escape with you. I've done it a million times in my mind, and I regret not doing it more than any other stupid thing I've done."
She's making it hard to stay mad at her. Looking beautiful, sweet voice, kind eyes that look at me like I light the moon even though I look like shit .
"Donnie was in the closet with a gun. He said he'd kill you," she whispers.
It takes me a minute to process what she said. "Donnie was threatening you?"
"He was threatening you . He had a gun. Told me to get rid of you in a few minutes or he'd shoot you. I needed you to leave. I tried to tell you we could talk later, but you were too angry for that."
Wait. What is she saying? She did it to protect me? "Did you believe I was a cop?"
"I wasn't sure at first, but it didn't take long for me to decide I believed you over him. But I couldn't tell you right then. I realized the best way to get you to leave was to make you think I was betraying you. I wanted to leave with you. I did, but I couldn't risk it with Donnie listening in."
"So you believe I wasn't trying to bring your dad down? I only wanted you."
"I believe you." She looks down. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it then. I thought it was better if Donnie thought I was still on his side."
I grunt because I had no idea Donnie was threatening her. Looking back, I should've wondered where he was.
"You said I'm one of them." She takes another step closer to me. "I really don't want to be someone who hurts you. I'm not one of them. I want to be the one in your corner. I was lucky to be someone you loved."
She's saying everything I want to hear. "Fuck."
"After we talk, ya know, have some breakfast, maybe you'd consider letting me be someone you love again?" She raises her shoulders.
That hits me in the gut. I want that. I want to love her again. I still do. Never stopped. She's driving me nuts coming back here and putting me in this situation. Damn her for drilling into my heart and settling in like she belongs there.
Without thinking, I rush her and pin her to the wooden cabin wall. My hands grab hers and force them over her head. My body smashes into her and she's warm, curvy, soft. Everything I remember. "You screwed up, baby. You screwed up bad. You shoulda left with me right then. He wouldn't shoot you."
"But he would shoot you ." She gazes up at me with doe eyes. "I was scared and confused. Everything you said made sense. I needed time to process it all. I know now he's evil. I shouldn't have doubted you, even a little. As soon as you left, I texted you and got no reply."
"I ditched my phone. I didn't know this." Shit. I fucked up too.
"Now you do." She smiles a soft smile up at me .
I'm still angry we got so screwed up because she didn't trust me. "Don't ever let this happen again. If someone is threatening you, tell me. Trust me to get you out of there. Don't take it all on yourself. In every situation, the sky falls, the forest burns, the sun doesn't come up, I'm going to fight fire and earth for you, and I need to know you'll let me do it. I can't be worried someone is hiding in the shadows and you didn't tell me."
"I'll tell you next time. I panicked."
"Okay. God, I'm sorry that happened. I didn't think Donnie would take it that far." I lower her arms and pull her head to my chest.
"He did." She grins. "But I made up for it. I have evidence. I have everything. Even a recording of my dad confessing to the murders."
I pull back and stare down at her. "You did this alone? Shit. I should've been there."
"It's okay. I turned it all over to the FBI. They already arrested Donnie. They're looking for my dad."
It's hard to hear what she's saying. She went through all that without me. "That was so risky." God, I'm proud of her. She finally left her family.
"I got a video of him hitting me too," she says quietly.
I freeze for a minute and step away from her. I can't stand to think of him hurting her. "God dammit! "
"It's okay. I'm okay now."
"That shit is not okay. No one touches you. No one hits you. I missed all this? I was here drinking myself to death and you were going through all that alone?"
"It worked out. I'm here now."
I smash my lips to hers because I'm angry. Angry she took this all on herself.
She whimpers like she's going to cry and my gut tightens. I squeeze my eyes shut and just feel her.
"God, babe." My voice comes out gravelly. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." I can hear the relief in her voice.
I hold her face in my palms and lean down to look her in the eye. "Couldn't sleep, couldn't swim."
"I'm so sorry." Her eyes look watery and I don't want to see any more of her tears.
"Shh. We don't need to talk anymore." I'm on the move. I lift her up by her thighs and carry her back to the bed.
Our mouths line up and we're kissing deep, hard, forever. There's this thick layer of pain between us and I need to bust through it.
The quickest way for us to connect is naked .
Her hands grip my shoulders like she's trying to pull me closer and I get that. I want her to melt into me like lava. God, I missed this. I missed making her come alive like this.
She's grabbing frantically under my shirt as I'm tugging hers off. No bra, just a tank top with thin straps. I can't keep my hands off her breasts so she does the rest of the undressing. Her shorts, my pants, and we're naked.
She moans as I suck one tight pink nipple between my lips and bite down. Her hand grabs my cock and tugs. How can it be Mila is here, on my bed, grabbing my dick, wanting me like I want her? This must be a fantasy.
My mouth moves down to taste her sweet core. She's soaking wet and groaning for me as my lips envelop her swollen clit for the first time in too long. Her hips writhe and she grabs my hair and pulls till it hurts. Her sweet honey coats my tongue and I'm devouring her while her delicious scent assaults my nose. She's all Mila. No one is like her. No one loves me like her. No one tears me apart and puts me back together like her.
Her back arches, and she screams through her orgasm as her clit pulses on my tongue. I want to come right now, but I need to be inside this woman when I claim her again. I kiss up her belly, "Mine. This…" I kiss her belly button, "is mine." My tongue trails up between her breasts to her sweet neck. "Your neck is mine." I move to her lips. "Your lips are mine."
"Mmm." She mumbles her assent as we fall into a hungry kiss .
My cock is lined up and dying to sink inside her velvet heat, but I have to tell her one thing first. "I won't leave you again, Mila. No matter what. Not leaving. I shouldn't have left. I was wrong."
"It won't happen again. And I'm not letting you leave." She's breathless, arching her neck up to kiss me, and scratching her nails down my back.
"Good."
My dick glides into her tight pussy like sliding into home plate for the winning run.
"So good, baby." My mouth is by her ear as I start moving inside her. "Mine. This is mine. This is us."
"Yes." She's breathless and tilting her hips to mash us together.
Pure instinct takes over and I'm ramming into her with all my might. I'm back where I belong, inside her. All the loneliness and pain of the last months disappears as a huge climax grows from deep in my soul. Her thighs squeeze my hips as her second orgasm rushes through her.
It all takes over and my release shoots endlessly into her pulsing body. This is how we were meant to be. This is where we connect on a level that is beyond anything of this world. Her body speaks to mine and mine sings back. Only with her have I ever let it loose and lowered the walls .
We lay there for a long time just enjoying the feel of our bodies locked together, her hands on my back, my lips on her neck feeling her pulse returning to normal.
She kisses my chest. "Welcome home."
She's right. I'm home with her. Doesn't matter what state we're in or if we're in a mountain cabin or on the beach, I'm home.
After a while, she gets up, slips on her tank top and undies, and walks to the restroom. I pull on briefs and follow her in there. Her eyes are transfixed as I grab a razor from the counter and start to work on shaving my beard.
I have to keep my eyes off her breasts to focus on what I'm doing, but eventually my old face stares back at me in the mirror. He looks a lot more like the Foster she used to know.
I pull her in front of me and wrap my arms over her chest. We make eye contact in the mirror. "This is us," I say.
Her half-lidded eyes pull up with her smile. "This is us." She grabs my wrist and the dog bracelet slips down her arm. She's wearing the bracelet I carried around for years.
She laughs as I spin her around and kiss her long and deep. I want to take her again, but the sun is out. We need to be responsible. "We should go shopping. Get some food and stuff."
Her gaze is locked on my chest. My new tattoo. Shit. She hasn't seen it .
It's a masculine hand reaching up from the water. The fingertips pinch the end of a ribbon that says Mila, but the wind is blowing the ribbon out of his grasp.
As she traces the design with her index finger, her eyes gloss over and her mouth turns down in a pout. "It's sad."
I look down at it and up at her. "We'll fix it. There's always a way."
She nods and looks from the tattoo to my eyes. I hope she sees I'm sincere.
Apparently she does because she reaches up on her tiptoes to suck my Adam's apple. She has to know we're not going to the store after that.
In seconds, I have her in my arms and we're back in the bed, reconnecting again.