Twenty Thousand Roads Chapter Six: Second Chance

Hades/Kavanagh Household

Present Day

Ricky

One night during college when Branna and I were baring souls over a bottle of cheap Trader Joe’s wine, she asked me how I knew I was gay.  I told her it was when I first saw “Batman and Robin” and was more into the idea of George Clooney and Chris O’Donnell in tight bodysuits than Alicia Silverstone.

I was being a bit sarcastic, but I think it’s something I’ve always known, even before I could put a label on it. Which, by the way, I hate doing, yet here I am.  I like boys, so does Branna. Her brother Sean likes girls. It is what it is.

Branna had just left on her first date with Ciaran.  I was working on my latest commission for Bridgeport City Hall, congratulating myself on the fact that I had convinced Branna to put on a damn dress for a change. That boy looked like he’d been absolutely sucker punched when she appeared in the doorway.

I had a good feeling about Ciaran.  I’d been dealing with Branna’s temper for the past decade, and it usually took a combination of both Sean and I being extremely authoritative to calm her down. This guy just came in, grabbed her up, and had her calm within minutes.  Part of the reason why I’d invited them both over after the bar was for her benefit.

No thanks necessary. It’s what I do.

Finn seemed like a cool guy too, and I liked that he was pretty well versed in art and music and had read my column.  I knew he was straight right away so the thought of flirting with him had never even crossed my mind.  But I’m always open to having new friends.  In the art world, you don’t really have “friends.” You have patrons if you’re lucky, and sycophants if you become a big name.  But not real friends.  They love you if you’re on top but if you hit a dry spell no one is returning your calls.

But art satisfied something in me regardless; that need to create, to take something in its most basic form and shape and mold it into something amazing and new.  Art and music had been my respites, my solace since I was young...

Nine Years Ago

We had just moved to Bridgeport from Sunset Valley. My dad was offered a job as Vice President of Bridgeport Savings and Trust, so there was never any question we’d move, my father always making certain we all knew his career took precedence before anything else.

He wasn’t home a lot, and when he was he was usually on his phone, talking about this or that deal, whether this or that person was going to default on a loan, or that the new batch of tellers were complete and utter incompetents.   Frankly, I was happy that he stayed on the phone because it meant he wasn’t lambasting me for not fitting his perfect son ideal.

Mom was a writer, mostly fluff pieces for women’s magazines. You know the ones:
“Seduce your man tonight! Have fifteen orgasms in a row!” articles that probably only served to make women feel sexually inadequate.  I think she aspired to more, but that would have meant pounding the pavement a lot to get her name out and Dad didn’t want her doing that.  He was never mean to her, but there was that unspoken knowledge that she had her place and rocking the boat would be ill-advised.

I insisted on going to the public high school, something that displeased my dad, but after researching their test scores and graduation rate, he grudgingly let me go there. I mostly wanted to go for their strong arts program, but I didn’t tell him that.

I met Branna Kavanagh when they were casting the school production of “Les Miserables.” I had already been cast as Marius, which made me laugh inwardly because his character’s whole essence was being lovesick over a woman, but whatever.  As long as there was no tongue kissing I’d survive.

She bounced on the stage dressed like a cross between a goth girl and a biker chick and belted out Dusty Springfield’s “You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me” and pretty much knocked any other competition on its ass.  When she was officially cast as Eponine, she looked at me and said “Guess we’ll be working together a lot” and socked me on the arm. She hit like a guy. Still does, actually.

We were pretty much inseparable from that day on.  

If I wasn’t at Branna’s house, I was in my room, either playing my piano or painting if my father told me to cut out the damn racket.  I usually didn’t come out much, except maybe to eat or shower.  Why would I? All I’d get is another lecture about buckling down so I could get into a school with a good MBA program to provide for my future wife and kids and two golden retrievers.

I didn’t bother telling him the wife part was never going to happen.

My eyes are open wide
And by the way, I made it
Through the day
I watched the world outside 
By the way, I'm leaving out
Today 

My sister Tasha could usually get me out of my room. A tiny sprite with my coloring, she seemed pretty much unfazed by anyone’s expectations of her and did pretty much what she wanted, when she wanted. For whatever reason my parents found this adorable and indulged most of her whims.

I would have resented the hell out of it too, if she hadn’t been such a sweet kid, trying to get me to play games or show her how to paint. It was nice to be appreciated by someone in my own family. I usually had to go to Branna’s family to be validated for anything.

I don’t know why this didn’t make me suicidal or otherwise self-destructive, like it did for so many gay teens.  Well, actually that’s a lie. I know what got me through.

Branna and her grandmother, Mary O’Hagan.

Branna knew from day one I was gay and didn’t really care.  She kept clueless females at bay, threatened any bullies with swift and blinding violence, and listened to me bitch about my father and pine over crushes I had that would remain one-sided.  We also sang karaoke duets until the wee hours, driving much of her family nuts.

 

Mary talked to me about art and music and writing for hours. She talked about her childhood in Galway, her marriage to Branna’s grandfather, people and places that inspired her writing. She wasn’t sick then, but had occasional memory lapses and spells of absentmindedness that she laughingly attributed to aging.

So, bolstered by their support I thought I would just grin and bear it for the remainder of my high school years until the day my father barged into my bedroom and unceremoniously dumped a stack of Ivy League college applications and an SAT study guide on my bed.  “Get off that goddamned piano and get to work on your future.” he declared as he left the room, immensely proud of himself. 

I just saw Halley's Comet
She waved
Said, "Why you always runnin' in place?"
Even the man in the
Moon disappeared
Somewhere in the stratosphere 

 

I really don’t know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I had gathered the entire pile and stormed out into the living room, where I dumped them at his feet. “I’m sick of you trying to run my life!” I’d yelled at him. “I don’t want to be an accountant, or a businessman, or a fucking lawyer! I want to study art and music and I don’t give a shit about how it will look to your image.”

He sneered back as my mother sat on a chair and buried her face in her hands, saying nothing.

“So, you think you’re going to support a wife and kids with a career as a starving artist? Get your head out of the clouds!”

“Are you really that clueless, Dad? There isn’t going to be a wife and kids because I’M GAY! I don’t like girls, I never have and I never will! Get over this idea that I’m going to become a carbon copy of you! I’d rather live on the streets than ever be like you!”

Another smirk. “So why don’t you do that, then? You seem to think a bohemian artists life is so noble, why don’t you go live on the street and see how much you like it then?” My mother jumped out of her chair then and ran to my father’s side, grabbing his arm. “Martin, NO! He’s only sixteen!”

My father shook her off. “No, Ellen, you’re not going to baby him! He thinks he has it all figured out, let him fend for himself and see what it’s like! He’ll be back in a day. If this is what it takes for him to fall in line, then so be it!”  My mother started to cry then; I think she knew that I would never be coming home, even if my father was so smugly sure I’d be back in 24 hours.

 

“Now, pack your things and get out. And don’t expect a penny from me. You think you’re an adult, act like it.” He folded his arms arrogantly and looked down his nose. “And as for the...other...thing, it’s a phase, but even so, I won’t have it in my house, around your sister.” I hear a roaring in my ears that almost but not quite drowned out the sound of my mother’s sobs as I went to my room and threw some clothes and books into a bag. I looked around the room. The rest could be replaced eventually.

Tell my mother
Tell my father
I've done the best I can
To make them realize
This is my life
I hope they understand
I'm not angry, I'm just sayin'
Sometimes goodbye is a second chance... 

I was almost to the door when a little hand grabbed the back of my shirt. “Ricky, where are you going?” Tasha asked me imploringly, her eyes wide. Shit. I didn’t want to leave her but I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. I could only hope my mother wouldn’t let my father bash me to her.  From the living room, I could hear my mother still sobbing and my father telling her it was all for the best. Punting his own son on the street was for the best.

“I have to leave for a while, Tash,” I told her, trying as hard as I could to not get choked up. “But I promise I’ll come see you when I can.”  A confused look came over her face as she looked towards the living room. “Why is Mommy crying?”



I closed my eyes. “She’s just...a little sad. But she’ll get better.” I bent down and hugged her close. “I have to go. You be a good girl, okay?”  She nodded sadly and went back into her bedroom.

Mentally gritting my teeth, I picked up the single duffel I’d packed and walked out the door without looking back. I ran and didn’t stop until I got to Branna’s doorstep.

Only then would I cry.

The Kavanaghs were kind enough to let me move in with them. We were only a year away to college, so it wouldn’t be a huge commitment to them. My mother started secretly sending me money out of her own allowance, because I knew as well as she did that Dad watched the finances like a hawk.  I had started applying for student loans and work/study programs when something utterly unreal happened.

My paternal grandmother died.

That in and of itself wasn’t a surprise. She had been ill for some time. The surprise came when the will was read and the majority of the Hades family’s wealth was left to Tasha and I. Tasha’s would be left in trust until she came of age, but mine would be available to me when I turned 18. I no longer had to worry about how to pay for college, or how to build a comfortable life after it.



Branna, Sean and I went to the same school, a couple hours away from Bridgeport. It had a great arts program for Branna and I, but also had a really strong engineering department, which is what Sean was interested in.   The three of us shared a run-down but cozy little house off campus where I could splash the walls with paint and Branna and I could play music until 3am if we wanted to. We got Sean to take up the bass and Under the Radar was born not long after.

College was where I finally got validation for my artwork outside of Branna, her family, and my high school art teacher.  People admired my work. They asked me about my technique, and I became a teacher’s assistant my second year, which was a rare occurrence. 

The school also had an active LGBT community, and I met people who had shared a lot of my own struggles. I dated a lot too, but never really had anything serious. I was just happy to finally have the freedom to be able to play the field without any judgement.

I spoke to Tasha frequently and had an email relationship with my mother. I hadn't spoken to my father since the night I left their home for good, and didn't plan on ever trying.  He was livid when he found out Tasha and I got the bulk of his parents' estate. My mother finally grew a set and told him she'd divorce him if he dared contest their will.

I still had my moments of self-doubt, of feeling rejected by the people who should have loved and supported me unconditionally.  But the life I started to lead and the people I surrounded myself with helped push some of the hurt away.  

After graduation, I taught art classes at Bridgeport Community College until my own career started to take off.  A couple of years later, some pieces I had written for a couple of independent papers caught the eye of the Bridgeport Times and they offered me a bi-weekly column in their Arts section. It was all coming together. I had proven my father wrong.

The only thing missing was a real relationship.

Present Day

Dwelling on the past has frozen my muse out. I was having a weird mix of feelings. I was thrilled beyond belief that Branna had met someone who she could actually get enthusiastic about. It was early on, but it looked promising.  But at the same time, there was this part of me that was a little jealous, that wanted the same for myself.  It seemed now that I was done playing the field, no one else seemed to be.  The last thing I wanted was to be consigned to being the gay third wheel on Branna and Ciaran’s dates. 

 

I flopped down on the sofa and rested my elbows on my knees. I hated these moments of self-pity, but they came from time to time and I learned I just had to ride them out.  But seriously, was it too much to ask to want an intelligent, compassionate, funny guy who was also sexy as hell, sexy being a relative term?

 

I didn't think so.

 

With a rueful chuckle to myself, I went into my bedroom to change clothes.

About an hour later I was sitting on the sofa watching tv when a key scraped in the lock.  The door opened and Branna entered. She smiled and winked at someone in the hall, I’m presuming Ciaran, before closing the door and leaning against it with a happy sigh.

“I take it things went well?” I asked her.

In response she came running over to the sofa where she assumed our usual tv watching position. She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling.

“Ricky, it was AMAZING! He was AMAZING!”

I squeezed her hand. “Tell me all about it!”

At least my Flaky was making some progress... 

I'm not angry, I'm just sayin'

Sometimes goodbye

Is a second chance...

Song: "Second Chance" by Shinedown

Twenty Thousand Roads Chapter Five: Feel Again

Hades/Kavanagh Residence
Present Day

Branna

As we rode down in the elevator, I noticed Ciaran kept looking over at me. Little looks, almost shy.  Finally, he held my gaze for more than a second. “What’s up, you act like you’ve never seen a girl in a dress before.”

“No, I’ve never seen YOU in a dress before.” he replied. “I got the feeling last night that it wasn’t quite your thing.”

I shrugged. “Usually that’s true.” I laughed a bit self-consciously. “I mean, I’m not a slob or anything, I like to be feminine and all that, but I guess I associate dresses with special occasions...”

Way to go, Kavanagh. Slap yourself now. Hard.

“Not that this isn’t special, it’s just...” Ciaran smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, I know what you meant. Weddings and funerals, eh?”

Relieved, I exhaled hard. “Exactly. I’m so glad you got what I meant.” I leaned back against the elevator wall. “But it’s not as if this dress is uncomfortable or something. Ricky picked it out for me.”

Ciaran’s smile grew a little wider as he looked me up and down. It wasn’t in a lecherous way, more...admiring? I suppose.  I’d always been used to guys in my age group not knowing how to express admiration towards females without looking like they were about to go rub one out.  Ciaran just looked like he was appreciating me. I liked it. It made me feel...pretty.

“I’ll need to thank Ricky for that. But I get the feeling you’re beautiful no matter what you choose to wear.”

The elevator opened at the ground floor then. Good thing too, since I was on the verge of jumping him and letting him have my body pretty much any way he wanted.

 

Ciaran

Oddly enough, her nervousness set me at ease. It was such a startling departure from the take-no-crap brawler from the night before.  But it served to give her even more dimension. And besides that, it was incredibly endearing.  It made me want to hug her and kiss her pink cheeks and tell her there was nothing to be nervous about, that I liked her already, and that I had a good feeling about her and I.

I didn’t though, fearing she might find me too pushy or worse, too weird. I settled instead for taking her hand and leading her to my car. 

When we got there, I opened the door for her. She looked a little surprised at first, but then she smiled and got into the passenger side.  Made me kind of wonder what kind of fellas she’d been dating before me. I thought that kind of gesture was pretty much standard. Once I made sure she was settled, I got into the driver’s side.  Before I started the car, I looked over at her. The moonlight bounced off her pale skin and made her almost seem to glow. Her black hair tumbled over her shoulders in silky, slightly unkempt waves. Her lips were touched with a soft pink gloss.

At that moment I was almost completely overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her. Not go anywhere, just sit there and kiss her until our lips were swollen and we were totally breathless.  I started the car instead.

We were quiet as I pulled out into traffic, but she finally spoke when we got moving. “So, did you have a hard time adjusting to driving here?”

I chuckled. “Not really. Compared to most of Ireland, driving here is pretty easy.”

“No roundabouts here.”

“You’ve been to Ireland, Branna?”

She looked at me like I was thick for a second. “Of course I have. We went to Galway every summer when I was growing up, but we stopped once the oldest ones got out of high school. My parents still go.”

I pulled the car up in front of the restaurant.  Branna’s eyes got wide when she saw we were at Constantine, one of the hottest restaurants in the city.  Reservations had to usually be made weeks, even months in advance.

“Dude, this is Constantine.”

“Yes.”

“How the hell did you manage to get into Constantine?”

I got out of the car and came around to her side and opened her door. “I’m friendly with one of the chefs.”  Her face registered confusion first, then the realization came over her. “Finn?”

I nodded. “The one and only.”

She grinned as I walked with her towards the hostess area. “Must be nice to have friends in high places.”

When I told Finn I had asked Branna out, he told me, “Be at Constantine at 8. Leave the rest to me. The head chef owes me a favor and I’m going to cash it in on you two. Feel special, wanker.” I did, especially when all I had to do was go to the desk, say my name, and we were led to an outside table facing the water.

It's been a long time comin' since I've seen your face
I've been everywhere and back tryin' to replace
everything I've had until my feet went numb
Praying like a fool that's been on the run
Heart's still beating but it's not working
It's like a million dollar phone that just can't ring
I reached out tried to love but I feel nothing
Yeah, my heart is numb. 

“Are you sure you’re not secretly a high roller?” Branna asked as she took in the place in.

“I swear I’m not. I’m just lucky to know someone with a wee bit of influence.”

 I got back to what we were discussing in the car. “And what was your favorite place in Galway?”

She smiled a bit wistfully and looked towards the water. “Inishmore.”

Inishmore was one of the Aran Islands, a land mass off the coast of Galway. One could only get there by ferry boat. It possesses landscapes of Limestone rock, a stretch of cliffs facing the Atlantic, large boulders, rock formations, and beautiful beaches. The islands are also an incredible outdoor museum of religious and cultural artifacts.  I had also spent a lot of time there.

“Black Fort?”

Her mouth dropped open. “That’s my favorite place on the island. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess I suppose.  I’m presuming that you were the type that liked to climb the cliffs and pretend she was an ancient conqueror.”

“You know me so well.”

The server came by then with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. "Chef Byrne said to let you know that he personally will be handling your dinner tonight and not to worry about a thing." She poured us two glasses and left. Branna picked up the glass and took a sip. "Damn, that's good. I'm no expert, but that is not something you get at Trader Joe's. So...CHEF Byrne, huh?"

I chuckled as I tasted the wine for myself. She was right, it was really, really good. " Eh, I let him have his titles and whatever he wants here. At home he's usually addressed as 'Hey plonker' so I'll allow him his dignity at work. He's earned it."

At that point Finn popped out the kitchen door. Branna's back was to him, so he of course took the opportunity to wave and make several pelvic thrusts and arse-slapping gestures in her general direction to watch me squirm and not try to react. Mercifully, he laughed and went back into the kitchen.  Branna took another sip of her wine and watched me over the rim of her glass with those amazing wide blue eyes.

“Would you ever go back?” I asked her.

"To Ireland? Oh, in a heartbeat. Not really in a place where it’s financially feasible. But yeah, I’ll get back eventually. How about you?”

“When I’m able to, usually in summer.  My mam still lives in Galway City so I like to spend time with her. I’m her only child, so it means a lot to her. To me as well.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, did you have a father?”

“You can ask me anything. And Branna, we all have fathers.”

“You know what I mean, smart-ass. But if it’s sensitive, I...”

“No, no. It’s alright. My father died in 1952.”

“So he wasn’t...”

“A vampire? No, he was human. I’m a hybrid, angel.”

That endearment came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I guess it was what I was thinking. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

The food started arriving at that point, and by the time we got to dessert I was ready to offer to permanently pay Finn's half of the rent, I was so grateful to him.  It started with an endive and honey apple salad, then filet mignon with roasted tomatoes and pomme frites. The dessert was a chocolate panna cotta that damn near had Branna sliding out of her chair.

"Man, I think I need to have Finn come live with me so he can cook for us all the time. That was all amazing."

I smiled. "Finn doesn't even cook much for ME. He tends to leave his work at work so I'm usually fending for myself. Do you cook?"

"I do, actually. Mom liked to make that a group activity so I kind of learned by watching her. And she let us do things other than just lick a spoon or something."

The server came and cleared our dessert plates then, so I reached over and took both her hands. 

But with you
I can feel again
Yeah with you
I can feel again 

"Tell me about her."

"God, where do I start? Well, she's never worked outside the house, but she always seems busy, you know? Their house is right on the edge of town, near the school, actually..."

"The big blue Victorian?"

"That's the one."

"Wow, I see that house every day from my classroom window. I had no idea that's where you grew up."

"Yeah. Mom and Dad and Gran are still there. But growing up, sometimes it almost seemed rural, mostly because Mom keeps a chicken coop and has a garden bigger than my bedroom. That's how she's always kept busy."

"Your mam keeps chickens?"

"For the eggs. I've never bought eggs in my entire life."

The server came by with the check then. I looked at it and it was radically discounted. I probably should have been paying twice what they were charging me.  Another thing to be grateful to Finn for. I put my debit card in it and left it for the server.   I reached for her hands again. They were soft and silky and warm to the touch. I stroked the tops of her fingers with my thumbs. "What about your father?"

"Daddy is a police captain. Lots of bureaucratic stuff, but he loves it. He oversees the Vice detectives. They have a lot of colorful stories."

"I can imagine. When did your parents come here?"

"1980.  I was born in 1987. Gran came here when I was two, after my grandfather died. She wanted a change of scenery."  Mindful of what Ricky had told me earlier, I didn't press the topic any further.  "And they had how many kids?"

"Four. Brendan, Sinead, Sean, and me. Sean lives with Ricky and me. He's in the military, so he keeps earlier hours. He's away this week on maneuvers"

"Does he look like you?"

"Same eyes and mouth. His hair is much lighter.  Brendan, Sinead and I have black hair."

"And what do they do?"

For the briefest of seconds, I saw something flicker in her eyes. Almost looked like a sort of melancholy; but I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was. It passed before I could even remark on it, though.  

"Sinead is a nurse. Brendan...is a cop like Daddy."

The server came back with the receipt then.  I scribbled my name at the bottom and put my debit card back in my wallet. Then I stood up and held out my hand to Branna to help her up. "Where would you like to go next, angel?"

She tilted her head slightly, allowing a bit of hair to fall over her eyes as she looked up at me. It made me want to just ask if we could go back to my apartment and let the chips fall where they may.  But as you likely guessed, I didn't do that.

"I know a great place. Ricky and I go there all the time."

"Lead the way, then."

I'm feeling better ever since you know me
I was a lonely soul but that's the old me... 

Branna

The place was a combination comic book shop/cafe/arcade called Container Stacks. Ricky and I had been going there ever since it opened. We had both become acquainted with the owner, a guy about our age named Jasper Lochlan.  I looked around for him when we went in, but I didn't see him. Just as well, I thought he had a crush on Ricky anyway.

I had figured that, after spending a few hours at a place as exclusive as Constantine, that it would be a good palate cleanser for us. 

When he asked about my siblings, I almost didn't know what to say, so I just kept it to the most basic. What could I say to someone who was taking me out on a date that he'd obviously pulled out all the stops on? "My cop brother got shot in the head when he was called to a domestic, and by the way, my grandmother that you idolize has Alzheimer's?"

Someday. But not then. Besides, admitting it out loud to anyone other than Ricky would have meant admitting it to myself.

Ciaran spotted a crane machine in the corner. "Let me see if I can get you something!"  He was as excited as a little kid.  It made me feel butterflies again. No guy had ever been that eager to get me something, even just a goofy stuffed animal.  

"Alright Branna, I can't say I fancy myself an expert, but I've had good luck with these things before," he said as he put a couple quarters in. Gah, that accent.

"Ah, so you do this for the ladies often?"

He gave me a sideways glance and a smile that made me ache between the legs. "Only you, Branna."

He set his sights on a pink stuffed rabbit. "Okay, I'm aiming for that one."  Carefully, he guided the crane towards it and lowered it down, opening the crane's claws. When he pushed the button, it picked up the toy easily, but the trick, of course, was getting it to drop through the chute.  "Moment of truth." Slowly, he turned the handle and we both held our breath as it inched, bit by bit, towards the chute. Then with a quick hand, he got it over the chute and it dropped down. He pulled it out of the machine. "A gift for you, angel."

I smiled at him and held the rabbit against my chest. "I love it, but I'm hardly an angel."  Gently, he stroked my cheek. "I think you underestimate yourself. Don't. In any event, I suppose it's okay to have a little of the devil in ya too, eh?"

So many double entendre's could have been said in response to that, but I just kissed his cheek to thank him instead.

We spent time walking around the place, looking at comics and playing some of the video games when they were available. He was quite adept at a lot of them, but I suppose considering his age he'd probably had a lot of time to practice.

It started to get a little crowded, so we went outside to the basketball hoops. I picked up a ball and started dribbling it. "You play?" he asked me, picking up a ball of his own.

I took aim and tossed from the free throw line. The ball swished neatly through the hoop. "A little bit."

"Perfect free throw in heels. Is there no end to your talent, Miss Kavanagh?"  I shrugged. "Dunno. You feeling competitive?"  He didn't reply, just took my place at the free throw line. His ball, unfortunately, bounced off the hoop. "Ooh, sucks to be you."

It was on from there. After the first miss, he got better, but wasn't really a match for me. But I had the advantage of my father and brothers having taught me, so there was that too. He wasn't bad overall. 

The staff announced they would be closing in ten minutes. Ciaran looked at me and said, "Alright, one last shot. I can't let you make me feel totally emasculated."

"Do your best, Irish Boy."

He took aim and shot...it went in perfectly.

"Yes! I am redeemed in my own eyes and content in my masculinity!" I put my ball back on the rack. "Go ahead and brag, I still win."

I could see what looked like a mental debate going on in his hazel eyes. Then he moved closer to me, holding my gaze intently.

"I suppose you deserve a reward," he said in a low voice.  

Before I could react, he'd pulled me into his arms and his lips crashed into mine fiercely. With a sigh of contentment, I opened my mouth to receive his tongue.  It was like the whole world around us had faded. 

But with you
I feel again
Yeah with you
I can feel again

Ciaran

Her hand rested on my knee on the drive back to her apartment. Every so often she would look over at me and smile. When we got to a red light, I leaned over and kissed her until the driver behind us honked to indicate the light had changed to green.

When we got to her door, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, my tongue relentlessly invading her mouth. She kissed me back just as hard, winding her arms around my neck as I reached up and wove my fingers through her silky hair that I'd been dying to touch all night. 

"God, Branna," I whispered, feeling myself getting harder and harder as her tongue traced the outline of my lips."

"I'm not quite God, but I might make you see God if you wanted."  With a groan, I pulled her head back gently and left a trail of kisses along the pale column of her neck. I moved back up, kissing and licking her jawline before returning to her lips. God, those lips. I could only imagine the things she could do with them, and the notion made my cock push almost painfully against my jeans.

I pushed her up against the wall and lifted her so her legs were around my waist. It was almost becoming a battle as she grabbed my hair and kissed me with a power and authority I hadn't felt in a long time. Turning her head slightly, she sucked my earlobe into her mouth and I nearly exploded on the spot as she began to nibble and lick it. My ears are one of my more sensitive areas. Our pelvises ground against one another and she let out a soft whimper indicating that she was as turned on as I was.  

"Ciaran...I want you..." she said in a low growl. It was the sexiest thing I'd heard in ages. The door was right next to us, barely a foot away. I could easily reach over, open it up, and take her into her bedroom where we could fuck, twisting our bodies into contortions as yet unknown until the sun rose up over the water.  

"Branna...angel...I want you too...but..."

I set her back down, but didn't let her go. I planted soft kisses on her cheeks and lips as I talked. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I want you right now...but I don't want you to look back and think I took advantage of you this night."

She looked a bit confused. "But I said I wanted you..." I kissed her gently. "I know, I know you did. And like I said angel, I want you too.  I just don't ever want you thinking that this was a race to see how fast I could get you into bed. I want us to know each other more, to make it more special. Do you understand?"  She nodded, but looked sad. "It isn't me, is it?" she asked quietly. She wasn't standing completely straight, obviously as weak in the knees as I was, leaning against the wall to support herself.  I tilted her chin up.

"Angel, in a million years it could never ever be you. It's me. I want you to feel special because you are special. And yeah, I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about us. Do you feel it?"

"Yeah."

"Then will you just humor me a little?" She nodded again and I kissed her hard and held her tightly. "Branna I don't want to leave but it's very late and you need to sleep."  With a sigh, she pulled her keys out of her purse and put them in the lock before turning back to me. "Ciaran, I had an amazing time tonight. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Consider it the first of many." I helped her open the door and kissed her one last time. "I'll call you tomorrow, angel."  She smiled sweetly and winked before closing the door.

Now I had an entire elevator and car ride to try to eliminate my erection. 

When I got into my own bedroom, I flopped down into the chair by my bed. Jaysus it was hard to leave her. I didn't want to and now I was left frustrated because I needed to be fucking noble.

I hadn’t been in a serious relationship with a woman in nearly forty years. In the time since, there had been relationships that came and went, short term flings, passings in the night, pretty distractions that I turned to when the physical need became too difficult to deal with. It wasn’t intimacy, not in the least. It was just sex with a dash of occasional companionship thrown in.  In the past three years, there had been no one. Women had expressed interest, flirted, even got aggressive on occasion.  I turned them all down. Finn gave some of them a ride.

I wanted something serious again, something real and powerful. Something that would make me want to wake up every morning with a smile on my face. I was settled in my life: my career was the way I wanted it to be, I lived in a city I loved, I wanted someone to share it all with.  I got through those three years with a lot of self-pleasuring and the knowledge that I’d know her when I saw her.

You can gain a lot of insight in 111 years of life, and I knew it was Branna from the second I laid my eyes on her. 

Sighing, I got up and unbuttoned my shirt. I removed it and tossed it over on my desk chair. I changed into my track pants and tried to sleep. It was useless. All I could think about was her. Being with her, wanting her, wanting to touch her, kiss her, make love to her. Picturing her beautiful nude body wrapped around me.  Ugh. I snapped on the lights and got out of bed.

I stared at the door to my room for eons. I don't know why, maybe I was mentally willing it to open and for Branna to come in ready to ravage me? I could feel my cock again growing hard at the thought of plunging into her hot wet center and having her ride me until she was screaming my name. 

I was exhausted but the erotic images kept flooding my mind and I knew I had to do something so I could sleep.

It had served me well the past three years, I guessed another night wouldn't hurt.

I laid back down and slid my hand down my track pants. I took my cock into my hand and began to stroke it up and down, gently at first, then faster, stroking up and down the shaft with attention to the head. Obviously I had enough experience to know my own body and what it took to get me off when I was alone.  

It felt good, really really good. It wasn't Branna, but it would do.

Speaking of, her image assaulted my mind as I stroked myself. A soft moan escaped me as I thought about her full lips taking the place of my hand. My arousal grew even more at the notion of it. Would she be good at it? Probably. 

I thought about how she would taste, how my tongue would glide along her soft folds until I found that one sweet spot in the center that would make her shake and moan in ecstasy. 

Heat flushed through my body as my hand moved faster and faster until finally with a moan that was much louder than I'd anticipated, I came hard and the hot liquid spilled over my hand and my stomach. 

I couldn't move for what seemed like ages, until the once hot liquid had turned cold. Finally, I reached over to the box of kleenex on my nightstand and cleaned myself off.  The first tiny hints of daylight were coming in through the windows. 

I sighed, contented for the moment. I thought of Branna.  And finally, I slept.

I woke up at about eleven and the first thought in my mind was Branna. I wanted to hear her voice. I knew it was probably not good etiquette, but I really didn't care. I just wanted to talk to her.

The phone rang three times and then she picked up. "Hello..." she murmured sleepily.

"Did I wake you, angel?" I asked her. 

"It's okay, I was kind of in and out. I had a hard time falling asleep. Someone left me a little frustrated."

I laughed. "You'll be pleased to know you weren't alone there."

"So uh...how did you finally get to sleep then? Same way I did?"

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, but probably not as good as being with you. Branna I know I'm probably being pushy but I'd like to see you again tonight."

"I'd like that. But don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"I do, so it couldn't be really late, but I'd still like to regardless."

I could hear the smile in her voice as she replied. "Why don't you come hang with Ricky and I tonight? We'll be watching Game of Thrones. Ricky's heard rumors that we'll get to see Robb Stark's bare ass this week so it should be quite an evening for him."

I could feel myself grinning widely to no one in particular. "I'll be there, angel."

A little wiser now
From what you showed me
Yeah, I feel again
Feel again

Song: "Feel Again" by OneRepublic