Blast From the Past Read online

  She rolled her eyes at the man to whom her heart had once belonged. “I’m so out of here,” she muttered, and took a step closer to the door. But before she had the chance to reach it, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She slammed up against his hard form, and when his mouth crashed down on hers, she had a sudden inclination to haul off and kick her assailant in the shin.

  But then he placed his hand on her cheek, and his lips, probing and stirring something deep within her, wiped that intention from her mind as easily as he’d pressed her to his chest and folded her in his arms.

  Like before, her mind went blank, and she felt as if her body clicked into place, arriving just where it needed to be, her softness melding against Brad’s unyielding hardness. For a brief moment she was carried back in time, when she and Brad had been two halves of a whole, soul mates for life, and the heat that surged through her at his touch slammed all common sense out of her.

  For the briefest of moments. Then she was herself again, and she kicked him hard in the shin.

  With a yelp of pain, he released her, and she gathered what little was left of her dignity and poise, and fled out onto the street, leaving a cursing Brad Fuller behind.

  Pray on that, she thought as she furiously stomped across the street, straight into the path of an oncoming Ford Excursion.

  Chapter 4

  Brad stepped out of the Saint-Michael’s, limping slightly, when he saw Amy step in front of an SUV.

  “Watch out!” he yelled, but it was too late. Before his horrified gaze, she was slammed into the car’s front fender and was propelled six feet away. The car, screeching to a halt, stopped just inches from where she lay, and when Brad reached the lifeless form of the woman he’d never stopped carrying a torch for, he was shocked to find her beautiful face covered in blood, wheat-colored strands matted to her brow.

  “Call 911!” he hollered to the SUV’s driver who had come trotting up, his face revealing shock and horror at the accident he’d inadvertently caused.

  Brad gently cradled Amy in his lap, and began to wipe away some of the blood from her deathly pale face. Her eyes were closed now, but in his mind’s eye he could see them flash fire at him, just like they’d done mere seconds before.

  He’d always gotten a kick out of stirring her to a state of grumbling annoyance, for then he got to witness that bright flush mantle her cheeks and those expressive emerald eyes sparkle dangerously. She never looked more beautiful.

  Now she lay motionless in his arms, and he knew it was all his fault. If he hadn’t grabbed her and forced himself on her, she would never have stalked across the street without looking. For the second time in his life he’d brought anguish to the Remington family and hurt into the heart of the woman he’d loved since they were wee kids in kindergarten and he’d first offered to carry her backpack before upending it and making off with her apple. She’d kicked his ass, then, as she had many times since.

  The whine of an ambulance announced the arrival of the emergency vehicle, and when Brad looked up at a different sound, the sound of a horrified sob, he knew Jackie Remington had arrived. She crouched next to them in the street, her face a mask of panic.

  She stared at him helplessly. “What… what happened?”

  Before he could respond, the driver of the SUV supplied his version of the story. “She crossed right in front of me, without looking. I—I couldn’t stop!”

  The man raked his fingers through his thinning mane, looking as distraught and upset as Brad was feeling.

  Jackie knelt down and gave Brad a look of helplessness. “Did you see what happened? Is it true? Did she just walk in front of a car? But why? Why would she do such a thing?”

  “I—she was upset. We—” He didn’t finish the sentence, not even knowing where to begin explaining what had happened.

  But Jackie nodded, as if she understood all, just by looking a Brad. She stroked her sister’s hair, tears flooding her eyes. “It’s the curse,” she murmured. “The curse of the Remingtons.”

  Brad shook his head stubbornly. What the hell was she talking about? If there was a curse hounding the Remingtons, it was him. “There is no curse,” he intoned miserably. “There’s just… me.”

  “She must have seen you and panicked. She was afraid of this moment, you know?” Jackie had taken her sister’s hand in hers and was squeezing it, as if the movement would somehow stir Amy back to life. “She was afraid to see you again and to be reminded of… that night.”

  Brad’s head jerked up when the nurses came rushing up from the ambulance. He reluctantly released Amy and moved back to let the professionals work on her.

  That night. He remembered it well. It hadn’t just destroyed Amy’s life and that of her family but his own as well. Forever he would look at his life as Before and After, with the After never quite measuring up to the Before.

  And now this…

  Jackie had wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to keep it together. He moved over, wanting to offer her his support but not knowing if it would be welcomed. Once again the resemblance between the two sisters surprised him. Even after all these years, they still looked alike in almost every sense. The only difference he’d ever been able to spot was that Jackie was the more goofy of the twins, Amy being the studious one.

  That hadn’t stopped them from playing practical jokes on him in high school, the one pretending to be the other to see if he could tell them apart. He always could, and had always told himself it was the look in her eyes that gave Amy away. Jackie could never look at him quite like Amy did, with so much love in her eyes.

  Until the love light had died, never to return. He’d never realized before today how much he’d missed her. How much she’d been a part of his life and without her he simply wasn’t whole.

  Silently, he prayed she would be all right.

  Expertly transferred onto a stretcher, one of the nurses sought him out, then beckoned him. “You better follow along, Brad. Do you have your car nearby?”

  “I have,” he confirmed, hope surging in his bosom.

  “Then follow us to the hospital and bring Jackie, will you?”

  “Sure thing, Jake.” He eyed the man hopefully. “Is she gonna be all right?”

  His old friend’s frown deepened. “Too soon to tell. Let’s first get her to the hospital. Doc will need to take a look at that head wound.”

  He jogged to his car, parked just around the corner, Jackie following two steps behind, and five minutes later they were racing along as they tried to keep up with the ambulance as it meandered through traffic, its siren a high whine.

  Brad swallowed and looked over at Jackie. “I—I’m sorry, Jackie.”

  “Just shut up and drive, will you? Excuses won’t save my sister.”

  Only a miracle will, Brad knew, and he squeezed the steering wheel tighter, hurtling through traffic in the wake of the vehicle carrying the injured body of Amy Remington, the only woman he’d ever loved.

  Chapter 5

  Brad reclined on the small couch placed in Amy’s room. Family members and friends had come and gone, and the only one left now was him. None of Amy’s visitors had paid him much attention, apart from curious looks from some, and some dirty ones from others. It was perhaps too much to say he was persona non grata, but he wasn’t very grata either.

  Nor could he blame them. His mind kept drifting back to the accident. How Amy had stalked away from him, all huffy and offended like, and walked right in front of the SUV.

  If only he hadn’t made a grab for her, she would be fine now.

  Another mistake on his part, adding to the many he’d already made in the past. He should be used to being a fuck-up by now but the strange thing was that he didn’t feel like such a loser most of the time.

  He’d atoned for his sins by finding a decent job and sticking to it, working hard up North. It was a tough life, but he liked it, the physical work demanding on his body and spirit but rewarding as well.

  He stared acro
ss the white sheets at Amy’s pale face, connected to machines by tubes, and groaned in agony. He just hoped she would be fine. If anything happened to her… He didn’t think he could live with her death on his conscience, like he couldn’t live knowing she wasn’t out there anymore. Hope had always been his most trusty companion, shedding light on the darkest of days. The hope that one day he would see her again—one day close her in his arms again—hold her tight and hear her whisper his name with love in her eyes, just like she used to before.

  And now, through the rashness of his actions, he’d made sure that would never happen again. It had been a moment’s craziness, seeing her like that, so beautiful and available, and he hadn’t been able to curb the desire to touch her once more—stir those perfect lips once more—and feel her in his arms.

  He buried his face in his hands, and was surprised when a soft voice called out his name. Looking up in wonder, he couldn’t tell if it was a dream or real, but then she repeated the name—a soft murmur.

  “Brad…”

  He was on his feet and next to her, pressing her hand in his, and gazing down at her, hope surging in his bosom. “I’m here, honey. I’m right here.”

  She didn’t open her eyes, merely frowned briefly as she rolled her head in his direction, then parted her lips and whispered, “I love you… Brad.”

  His breath hitched in his throat at those whispered words, softly spoken, and he waited for more, and when none came, he kneeled down next to the bed, and clasped her hand to his forehead, blessing his good fortune.

  Could it be? Could it be that after all these years she still held him in her heart, in spite of everything that had happened?

  He desperately hoped so.

  Amy felt his presence before she regained consciousness, so strong was the urge to lay her eyes upon his face once again. The first thing that came to mind was that she must have been in an accident, or else her head wouldn’t be feeling this bad.

  Nausea swept over her, then, followed by a drowsiness that threatened to swallow her up. When she opened her eyes, the thick fog prevented her from focusing on her surroundings. Then, blinking against the ambient light of the room, a dark figure emerged from the welter, and as she tried to determine who it was, she knew in her heart that it was him…

  “What did you do to me?” she groaned, her words slurred and eyes unfocused.

  Brad looked up, and the radiance of his smile was the next thing that registered. He clutched her hand in his—warm touch, so warm and soft—and then he was by her side, and she caught a glimpse of those horrible sideburns.

  “Those things have to go,” she stated. “They make you look old.”

  “Those… things?” he asked, not comprehending.

  “Those horrible hairy things. Muttonchops. They’re horrible, honey.”

  He didn’t speak for a moment, too stunned, then nodded quickly. “Of course. Consider them gone.”

  “Good. And if you don’t mind, the wedding should be in white, Brad. You know how we always said casual? I’ve changed my mind. White’s the way to go.” She nodded and frowned when a shooting pain rattled through her brain. “Ouch,” she murmured, reaching her hands to her head. Only now did she become aware one of her hands was bandaged and some tube was sticking out.

  She stared at it, wondering where the thing came from. ”Who put this…” She shook her head, deciding it wasn’t important. “Brad? Could you take care of everything, honey? I feel a bit under the weather. Must be a flu bug going round. I must have caught it when I was prancing around last night in that cheerleader outfit. Damn miniskirts. Should be a law against them.”

  “Cheerleader?” intoned Brad.

  She grinned up at him, and drew his head closer for a kiss. “I know you think they’re the sexiest thing ever invented, but they play havoc on the constitution.” She drew him in and captured his mouth easily, parting her lips and welcoming the hot urge of his tongue on hers. Brad always was a great kisser, she thought, and suddenly felt the familiar heat course through her body.

  She giggled. “Wanna… go for some nookie?”

  She quickly threw aside the sheet covering her, and pulled him down on top of her. She didn’t know why, but it seemed to her it had been far too long since she’d clasped her boyfriend between her thighs, and suddenly she felt she couldn’t wait one more second before feeling him stir deep inside her once again.

  She felt his hard body atop hers, his powerful arms, all rolling muscle and sculpted perfection, then traced his broad shoulders and his strong back. He was a god amongst men, she’d decided a long time ago, and she was the luckiest girl on the planet to have him want her as much as he wanted her.

  The fact he hadn’t grown tired of her after having gone steady for two years was a thing that never ceased to amaze her. She took his hand and placed it on her breast, and moaned as he grasped it eagerly, the heat of his body so close to hers eliciting a deep urge churning in her belly.

  She opened her legs and enveloped his sturdy waist. Feeling the coarse fabric of his jeans beneath her bare legs, she frowned in dismay. “You should be naked, big boy,” she muttered, and flipped the top button on his jeans, then drew down the zipper and started tugging down his pants.

  “Amy,” he groaned. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here.”

  “Why not here?” she countered. “We’re all alone in my room, aren’t we? Mom and Dad will never surprise us. I told them this place is off-limits.”

  “But this isn’t—”

  “Isn’t what? The right time? It’s always the right time for me, Brad. You know that.” She kissed him seductively, not understanding his sudden reticence. “You can have me anytime, anywhere, baby, you know that. I never get tired of making love to you. Not ever.”

  “But—”

  “I want you now, Brad. So take me. Take me please…”

  “Oh, what the hell,” he croaked, and shoved off his jeans, then bent over her as he took her mouth once more, more heatedly this time, as if kissing her for the very first time.

  “That’s the spirit,” she murmured against his lips, and removed the silly nightgown she was wearing to reveal herself to him. Skin on skin, that’s the way she wanted to be with Brad. All the time.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m horny, honey. Aren’t you?”

  Brad was more surprised than horny in fact, and a vague thought he was engaging in illicit nookie that would come back to haunt him sooner rather than later stirred at the back of his mind. But this was Amy, and she was inviting him in no uncertain terms into her bed. Resistance was futile, he knew, his body moving to the rhythm of their lovemaking before he had a chance to lodge an official complaint through the proper channels.

  She wanted him—he wanted her. It was that simple. And even though he nebulously realized something was terribly off here, clear thought was a luxury he could no longer afford now that he was sucked back into the dream world he and Amy had occupied for so long.

  He quickly stripped off his jeans and shirt and covered her with his body, pushing her legs apart with his knees, and feeling the wonder that was Amy writhe beneath him, eager to feel him throbbing inside her. She’d never cared much for foreplay, wanting him as much as he wanted her, and they seemed to slip easily back into the old groove now. As he kissed her deeply, their tongues meshing and his hands grasping her naked tits, his mouth sucking in her pert nipples, pink and proud, his cock twitched at attention at the opening to her sex, ready, willing and able to plunge into her.

  She sneaked a hand down, her eyes closed and soft sighs escaping her lips, and took his hardness, guiding him between her folds—just like the old days, he thought briefly before he was swallowed up by the heat pulsating between her thighs, and he was inside her, snugly filling her up, sliding home as if they’d never been apart. The years fell away and he was eighteen again, just like she was, and he was thrusting deeply into her tender flesh, her cunt hot and slick, eager for his cock.

  Briefly he
wondered if he shouldn’t use protection, but he was so wrapped up in the moment, the thought came and went. They’d always done it like this, ever since making love in the backseat of his car on their third date. The first two times she’d insisted he use a rubber, but then she’d convinced her mom to go on the pill, and they’d done it bareback ever since, the first time creating an intimacy between them that had seemed like it would last a lifetime, each declaring to the other they belonged together now, lovers forever, exclusive and evermore.

  He bucked his hips as she moaned in exquisite pleasure, her eyelids fluttering and her lips parted in ecstasy, and when he upped the tempo and fucked her deeply and steadily, he knew she was on the verge of her first come. She’d always climaxed easily and quickly with him, something about the way he made love to her filling her with a deep trust and the ability to surrender.

  He clasped her buttocks in his hands as his shoulders pushing her down onto the hospital bed, and he parted her cheeks with his powerful fingers, feeling himself moving deeply inside her. Then he popped his index finger into her butthole, and she whimpered loudly as he pistoned rhythmically, and when she came he momentarily feared the hospital staff to come running.

  He didn’t care. This was Amy, the girl he’d loved since fifth grade, and he was finally home again. Finally had arrived in the place he belonged. He suckled at her tit as he pumped relentlessly into that soft and juicy pussy of her, the years of being apart from her lending a quality of desperation to his fucking, and when she murmured his name against his ear, he came, projecting his hot seed deeply into her womb, hitting the spot where they’d lived for so long, loved for so long, before irrevocably drifting apart.

  “I love you, Brad,” she whispered, clasping both her arms and legs around his spasming form, and as he drained his balls into her tender flesh, he kissed her deeply and voraciously.