Trish walked into her bedroom and let out a scream, slamming her body against the door and dropping her shopping bags. The contents tumbled to the floor and the sound of glass shattering filled the air. The man lounging in her bed lowered his book to look at her before a familiar grin spread like melted butter across his sensual lips.
“Hey baby.” He glanced down at the chaos on the hardwood floor. “Made a bit of a mess didn’t you?” Dog-earing the page he’d been reading and setting it aside he rolled off the bed to help clean up the mess.
Trish, who was still leaning against the door in shock, flinched away from him stepping on broken pieces of glass, her heel hitting a now broken candle, sending it rolling. The male glanced up, a frown darkening brown eyes and forcing lines between sleek eyebrows.
“Be careful; don’t want you to get glass in your favorite pair of shoes.” He picked up the class delicately, he turned and tossed most of it in the trash can next to the nightstand that held his book. The whole time Trish could only stare, her emotions a roiling mess in her gut.
“Wha—wha?” All she could manage was incoherency, not even sure what question she wanted to ask.
He’d returned his full attention to her beaming another smile at her before he stepped toward her again. It was only then that Trish realized that he was shirtless, his abs crinkling as he twisted to face her. Lightly tanned skin expanded and contracted as she watched him breathe. For her it was like watching someone blow air out their mouth during winter, she swore she saw the puffs of air drift out of his body as he breathed.
He stepped closer to her, dodging shards of glass as he went and reached out a hand to touch her. Trish’s body kick started into action. She jerked away from him, stepping back out of her bedroom. She stared at him a moment longer and then she turned and bolted down her winding staircase, hearing him shout her name but refusing to stop and look at him.
Trish reached the kitchen before he caught up to her. Trish snatched a knife out of the block knife rack pointing it at him before he got the chance to touch. He stopped an inch away from the knife tip, his throat close enough that if she lunged she’d kill him.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”
“Trish---” He tried to step around the knife
“NO! Who are you!? And why do you know these are my favorite shoes.” Jabbing the knife at him, Trish forced him to step back. He lifted up his hands in surrender and backed around to the other side of the island so that they were staring at each other.
“I know everything about you Trish, you know that.”
“No.” Trish let out in a wobbly voice. “You’re dead.”
His face gentled as tears welled up from the corners of her eyes threatening to spill over. “Now baby, didn’t I tell you I’d always come back for you?” He cooed at her, pulling out the middle of the three stools that sat under the island counter. He sat; legs spread wide and leaned his elbows against the counter top.
“You’re dead.” Trish shook her head in denial. “You’ve been dead for two years now. Two.” She pulled in a shuddering breath, her hand clenching and unclenching the knife hilt.
Silence fell between them. Trish stared at him, waiting, for what she didn’t know. Suddenly his gaze darkened again, the brown swirling as he stood with an abruptness that made Trish jump. Once again he moved around the island, his movements similar to a beast that had spotted its next meal. Silent and sleek.
Trish’s whole body froze, like a deer caught in the headlights. Entranced by the intent look in his eye Trish could do nothing but stare as he gently but firmly removed the knife from her hand, deftly placing it back in the block. His next move was just as startling to her as his first. He picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and padding towards the living room.
She let out a startled sound of protest and even tried to push herself off his shoulder but his grip around her legs was unyielding. He tossed her on the couch lying on top of her when she would have bolted. Trish stared up at him, her body encompassed by his hands and knees on either side of her head and legs. Wide eyed, Trish’s heart raced a mile a minute as she looked at him, holding her breath.
“I can’t give you all the details yet baby, but I needed to see you.” He lifted a hand to caress her face. “I missed you so much.” He cooed at her.
That was it? That was all he had to give her about his absence. He’d been dead to her for two years, she’d attended his funeral and all he had for her was that he missed her. His missing her couldn’t compare with her feelings; at least he’d know she was still alive! Trish felt her rage bubble up and then boil over as she stared at him in bewildered indignation.
“You missed me?” She whispered it, not sure she could trust her vocal cords with anything louder.
“Yes baby, of course I missed you. Like you said it’s been two years since we last saw each other.”
Trish rolled her eyes, the anger, no fury, roiling in her gut surfacing hot and hard. “Well don’t you make it sound so simple? Like you’ve been on a business trip for some time and just got your first chance to finally travel home. Not dead.” Her voice broke on the last word and tears burned her eyes and her throat ached.
Frustrated with her inability to hold herself together Trish glared at him and then hit his chest with a closed fist. Then she did it again, and again, and again until she was wailing at him her tears pouring down her face as she let her sobs and cries of anger.
He caught one of her wrists and held it to his chest as he looked down at her sadly. “Trish.”
“No Griffin.” She yelled struggling to pull her wrist from his hand even as she continued to pound his chest with the other. “No. No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no.”
Trish began to struggle in truth, kicking and hitting him wildly, repeating her mantra of ‘no’. Griffin withstood all of it releasing his grip on her hand. He let her get it all out until she could only beat at him lightly, sobbing roughly.
“We got trapped on the Congo river. The guide we’d hired ended up being an informant for our enemies. She set us up and things went sour.” Despite her strongest desire not to Trish found herself clinging to his words, hoping to understand his reasons for abandoning her. “I can’t tell you all of what happened but trust me when I say it was for the best that I played dead for a while.”
He searched her gaze, looking to see that she understood what he was trying to say. That he hadn’t played dead just for fun.
“I talked to Julie.” Her voice hitched. Griffin nodded at her.
“The whole unit had to go underground for a while, not just me baby.”
Trish pushed at his chest and he let her up. She needed some space so that she could try to understand what he was saying. “So we all got calls telling us that your whole team died and that the bodies weren’t recoverable, we mourn your losses and then you suddenly pop up out of the blue. No phone call, no mail, not a single word about your impending arrival much less the status of your health, and I’m just supposed to believe you didn’t fall in love with some beauty in the Congo and elope for two years then decide to come back here after you were through with this faceless mistress you’ve found.
“In all fairness if I had called would you have believed it was me?” He raised his eyebrow at her, a wry smile on his lips as if he found her theory amusing.
“No. You know why? Because you were dead. D. E. A. D. Dead.”
“Would you rather I was actually dead.” His smile fell.
“Of course not, its just—“
“Have you found someone else Trish? Is that what this is about?” A dark cloud fell over his face and his voice became so severe it promised death would be the only ending for her alleged lover.
“No you idiot.” She stood up abruptly and walked to the edge of the carpet. “What don’t you understand about this situation? You were gone! We’d only been married 3 years and then I lost my husband like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Look at it from my perspective. I’ve known what you do for a living for some time now. I have had to live with the reality that you might die on a job, had to come to terms with it but then it happened. For real happened and I didn’t even have a body to bury just mementos of our short time together.
I had to find a way to breathe again past the loss of my heart, the break of my soul and live everyday one step at a time. And you have the nerve to walk back in like you were just gone a few weeks on a trip and I’m just supposed to accept that?” She shook her head.
“What if I’d done it to you?” She asked, trying to get him to understand her pain. “What if I disappeared for some time and then popped up without notice. Would you feel even a sliver of what I’ve had to go through?” Trish turned back to him and met his brown eyes with her own. “Or would you laugh off my disappearance like you do everything else and move on like I was nothing but a blip in the great life of Griffin Kinkaid?”
“That’s not fair Trish and you know it. My job comes with risks, it always has and you knew that coming into our marriage.”
“Yes, you are right. I did know.” She said with a nod of her head. “But the knowing is so very different from experiencing it.”
His face softened again and he walked over to rest his hands on her shoulders. “I am sorry Trish, but what I—what we did was for the best, it kept you all safe and us alive.”
Trish felt the tears that she’d fought so hard to keep from falling finally trickle down her face. Griffin used his thumbs to wipe them from her cheeks and leaned in to kiss her forehead.
“I really did miss you though.” He kissed her cheek. “I missed you every minute, of every day, of every month, of every year that I was away from you.” He punctuated each couple of words with a kiss on a different part of her face. Her other cheek, each ear, her nose, until finally he made his way to her lips. The kiss he planted there just a peck at first. Light and quick but then he came back.
Each kiss he placed on her lips got deeper until Trish felt herself clinging to him as he delved into her mouth. He must have sampled every corner of her mouth, using the grip he now had on her head to tilt it back and give him more leverage. The kiss lasted for eternity and yet it wasn’t long enough. But they both needed air and when he let her up her breath rushed out of her lick a freight train and her need for him came rushing to the forefront of her mind.
“Two years is a very long time.” Griffin mumbled.
“What? So your mistress wasn’t very good then?” Trish responded and earned herself a heartfelt chuckle as he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
His large hands gripped her bottom, the heat of him soaking through her jeans as he walked them over to the couch. Transferring her weight over to one arm he lifted her high enough that he could undo his own jeans with the free hand. Sliding his briefs and jeans down together, he sat down with her straddling him.
Trish lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor and moved to unbutton her bra but Griffin leaned in and started sucking on her nipples through the thin material. They were too sensitive and her fingers fumbled. He took over for her, unbuttoning the clasps slowly. Sucking strongly after each one was free until she was braless. Then his wet mouth actually touched her breast for the first time and Trish tossed her head back, moaning deeply.
He alternated his attention between the two, his teeth lightly grazing her nipples while his tongue soothed the slight sting. Meanwhile his hands messaged her ass rocking her lightly against him until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. Pushing off him she stood and took down her jeans and panties in one go, absolutely loving the starved look in his eyes. Kicking them towards her shirt and bra she came back to straddle him once more.
Dipping her fingers inside her core she found that she was wetter than she would have anticipated. She sank down on his twitching length and they both let out moans that reached their souls. Two years was a long time.
Slowly she rocked on him, almost too tight to seat him comfortably. But Griffin was having none of that. Gripping her thighs he made her sit on him to allow her body time to adjust, with his length throbbing and twitching inside of her. And that was how her first climax snuck up on her. It was hard and fast and sent shivers through her body.
Griffin grunted as her sex rippled along his shaft, squeezing him with each shiver that wracked her body. Slowly he lifted her up and lowered her back down at the same pace. He only got in a few slow strokes before he followed behind her. He hissed as his climax rocked through him. His warm seed caused her to rock in pleasure against him, prolonging his pleasure.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, how about we get to the real fun?” Griffin laid her down on the couch with an almost childish smile.
Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him down to her for a kiss that she packed with all her love and happiness. Two years was a blink of an eye.
The next morning Trish woke up on her bed, alone. Looking around she saw that the glass had been cleaned up and she would bet money that what was left of her groceries had been put away. Laying back Trish went to curl into Griffin’s side of the bed when she saw the book he’d been reading on his pillow.
Picking it up she found the page he’d dog eared and read what he had highlighted. Smiling she laid back down clutching the book to her chest. What was another two years?
“I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.”
― James Whitcomb Riley