This Time, ...and Then

The soft pads of his fingers burned a path straight up the side of my stomach, spreading his heat outwards from my center and down through my toes. Consumed in his fire, I was lost to his caresses; his mouth chasing his fingers in a trail behind my ear and onto the skin of my neck.

With a gasp, I tightened my hold around his strong arms as he hitched my backside up against the wall behind us.

"I've been waiting for this for so long," I heard him whisper into my ear as he nibbled on it. "Me, too," I responded unconsciously, tipping my chin up to meet his waiting lips as they crushed against my own in wild abandon.

We were moving faster than my mind could keep up; our passion threatening to make me lose control. Suddenly scared, warning lights flashing in my mind, I jumped back.

"Wait! We can't. This is wrong. We have to-" I started to cry out.

Before I could continue, though, he stalked forward and took ahold of me. "Like hell it is. We belong together. This is the only thing right in our world. You're the only thing that makes sense to me. I won't let you get away again," he growled, savagely kissing me, threatening to drown me in his chaos. I should have stopped him. I wanted to stop him. But, heaven help me, I didn't. Because oh my God did I want him, too.

After so much time lying dormant, my heart had been awakened and was trying to block out all thought and reason. "Take me," it screamed. "I'm yours. I'm yours. I've always been yours."

Defying the impossible, I buried myself further in his arms and deepened our kiss. Like a temptress, I pulled him in and bloody hell did it feel good. When he lifted my shirt to kiss my navel, however, I snapped to and fell backwards.

Memories of our son flooded my system. Like a punch to the gut, I felt his echo run across me. Covering my swollen lips with a shaky palm, I looked up with a scarred expression. Time had caught up to me, haunting me with its damning memories.

It had happened so long ago, and yet in ways, it still felt like only yesterday.

I loved the man before me, but I had also loved our son.

It shouldn't have happened.

We were young.

Too young.

But it did.

Before he could be born, however, I lost our child in miscarriage, the repercussions of which tore us apart.

Until now.

To cope, to make the memory of our son mean something, I had dedicated my life to helping others. I became a social worker whose passion was helping teenage mothers and fathers raise their children. It was a hard job, but an even harder proposition for the young parents I worked with. Every day was a struggle, especially for them.

I did my best to help; I wanted them, no needed them, to not only survive but thrive as well. I like to believe I've been a positive influence. I like to believe that when a mother holds her child in her arms for the very first time, her infant instinctively wrapping his tiny, little hand around her finger, that I've made a difference.

Traveling the country, I've worked with thousands of young people who find themselves in situations they were never prepared to face. For all those teenagers yet to go down this path, my message has always been the same; take a minute to stop and think. Make a plan. Follow it and then, only then, if you still feel ok about how things could turn out, move forward. But whatever you do, think first and act second.

Now faced with this same situation myself, I looked into his eyes and knew that more than anything else in the world I wanted this. I craved a future with him more than I needed air to breathe.

Adrenaline still coursing through our veins, we were an explosion waiting to happen. I moved forward determinately and reached for his hand. "I want this. I do. Very much so," I said, looking at him seriously.

"You do?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," I replied softly but firmly. "So let's do this right. Let's stop and think. Figure things out. Get to know and love each other more. Make a plan. And then-"

"And then?" He responded, stepping closer and waiting with bated breath for my answer.

"And then," I told him, wrapping my arms around his waist, his scent filling me whole. "I am never letting you go."

THE END.