What the Heart Wants

What Now?-10

It was early morning before Clint could calm himself enough to allow sleep to reign.

Clint thought he now knew all of Sasha’s dark secrets; but he would not force her to divulge them… not now, but it would be necessary for them to start fresh. They would both have to dig up the past in order to bury it forever in their wake.

They both needed redemption, worse than he knew, forgiveness for a fresh start. And for the first time in 15 years, Clint greeted the sunrise with a precious cornel of hope and his arms full of a burden he was thankful to bare.

Tangled limbs and sheets added to the feelings of contentment that lingered after that last sating. Sasha had been awakened on the verge of a tremendous orgasm, created from the determined attentions being visited upon her most secret places by a very confident and determined demon.

How could so much time have passed and so little have changed, she mused… even now she could tell that her legs wouldn’t work for a few more minutes, if she required them. Which at present, she did not. She was more than content to lay and languish in the feelings radiating from her core and billowing ever outward.

Between them lay years of separate defining experiences and both common and separate secrets, yet they held no power to estrange them. Each felt as if they had stepped 15 years into the past, that nothing had truly changed and yet they knew everything had.

They had a lot to deal with, together.

Not this minute, this minute belonged only to the two of them.

While holding a sleeping Sasha, Clint fused with the thought that Sasha alone could redeem him, never forgetting she would also destroy him if she would not stay.

She had to stay.

Waking in Clint's arms had been a pleasant surprise.

Of all she had expected from him, kindness hadn’t been included. She knew his wrath well, his fury, his cunning, his anger, even his passion; but kindness. Sincerity, even genuine affection? These, she didn’t know what to make of, hadn’t expected.

Didn’t deserve.

That last emotion she didn’t even want to acknowledge, nothing in her could accept that this anomaly of a man might actually love her. And hadn’t she herself cried out those same impassioned words to him a lifetime ago, when she believed she could still have all the desires of her heart?

Could she risk laying all that bare again, for his sake… for his destruction? For her own sake?

The memory sprang vividly to the forefront. “I won’t share you Clint."

"I don’t share and I won’t play nicely with others."

"You need to make a choice. Choose wisely.” She had boldly stated, much more boldly than she had felt.

And he had chosen . She just could never have guessed his choice. Never accepted it, nor understood it. So she had accepted defeat & done what she’d had to in order to protect the last precious vestiges of what remained of her heart. Honestly, her tattered pride.

She’d thought she’d known him before. She’d thought what they had was special and that they’d transcended some unspoken boundary…even though quickly and unexpectedly for both of them… she’d been so sure.

Sitting idly sipping hot tea, fully clothed across a kitchen table from him, she coolly dissected him from beneath lowered eyes. The boldness of yesterday lay deep in the unconscious recesses of her more dominant personality.

Even now, her skin tingled at the oddity of being fully clothed in his presence; almost as if her body were reaching out to him with every fiber of her being, insulted at being untouched, virtually ignored.

But he wasn’t ignoring her at all. She could sense that he was attuned to all that was present in the room… in control of his every emotion and action, totally perceptive to the turmoil of her roiling and chaotic thoughts.

Her awareness and realization prompted him to speak. He leveled her with a stoney moss-colored gaze from beneath dark slashes in which she could read irritation, impatience and anger carefully banked and held in resolute check.

“So, now what Sassy, shall we fornicate more?"

"I thought you might need a respite to replenish your strength, you will soon need it…” he paused for effect, “ For the battles to come.” He finished matter-of-factly, taking a long draw from his coffee cup.

Perplexed at his irrational anger, Sasha replied, “Battles?” inquiring with quirked brows, instinctively drawing her mouth into a confrontational line as if she might never speak again.

“Recall, dear Sass… that I clearly told you before you last invited me to fornicate with you that I have NO intention of letting you escape me. Of relinquishing my current hold on you, of surrendering my very real current possession of you.” He finished blandly, absently preparing his next bite of food in order to avoid witnessing the mounting panic he could feel enveloping her.

She inhaled sharply. Her eyes bulging as fresh realization dawned on her endorphin-fogged brain.

“I did give you the choice, “ he stated, not bothering to look up… maintaining control of the conversation.

“But…” she stammered.

“I asked more than once. In more than one way, “ he continued, as if intoning the details to himself in a thoughtful, careful voice and manner.

“Clint, “ she said in a clear warning tone.

“Your answer was more than clear. Has been accepted” his voice growing more resonant with each word… growing stronger and more staccato with each syllable. “ And now the decision is mine.” He concluded, stopping all motion and activity to plant both palms on the table to impale her with his now jade eyes.

“Clint. You know you can’t stay here.” The words rushed out. “ I should never have come.” She whispered, looking down through the wooden table as if it wasn’t even there. The last of her energy seeped out of her. No longer did she feel strong, nor angry, she felt almost nothing. Empty.

Knowing already that her last statement was the biggest lie she had told in at least the last 24 hours.

“Why did you come?” he quirked an eyebrow, the dual play on words almost funny. Suddenly, he grabbed his coffee and spun away from the table to pace. Every inch the angry Wolf King, captured in a trap of his own making.

“I had to come,” she winced at the reinforcement of the prior wording error… blushing, “it felt unfinished. I needed to be rid of you.” She snapped angrily.

“There’s my girl, keep your fire Sasha, it’s a gift not a curse.” He smirked at her on a pass, “ Never be afraid to show me the truth… I want you the way you are, all of you.” He said raking her trembling body with a knowing gaze. “Always”

“Always!”, she screamed, “ always, what!”

“Have you not heard a word I just said, “ she screeched emphatically, rising to face him.

“I said, I wanted this finished, I’m through with you.” She growled out through clenched teeth. Mirroring his hostile stance and demeanor.

“Wonderful.” He beamed, exceedingly pleased with himself. He may as well have clapped and patted her on her head like a truculent child. “ So much passion, ah how I’ve missed that, “ he cooed directly at her for effect, then snapped.

“What I heard was the word NEED, Sasha. And we both know what it was that you needed. What I hope you still need.” He grinned, presenting his back to her.

This war was far from over. Shots fired.

An ominous keening sound rose from deep within her throat, “Why you…, “ she started after him, fists clenched in frustration.

As she approached his back she heard him speak, so softly she had to pause all action to hear, “ You,” he started in an accusing tone, “ were not listening to me. But hear this now. I have NO intention of letting you escape me again.” He finished setting is coffee cup aside in preparation for the weight of her decision.

His statement stilled her stalking prowl and doused her outward anger while igniting something foreign deep in the pit of her core.

“ You belong WITH me. You belong TO me. You always have. Deny it if you will, try to again… but know you will always long to & find your way right back here. “ He ended his impassioned speech pointing directly at his heart, then enfolding her in the calming comfort of his arms.

How was she to resist him from this circle of desire, this cozy prison that her treacherous body was already betraying her for. She had known she couldn’t touch him again, even in compassion or allow him to touch her. How then had she ended up in his embrace? This was not the assault or attack she had envisioned when she’d risen, but she couldn’t deny she favored it over where she’d been heading.

She mustn’t look into his eyes, though she could even now feel him willing her to see the truth of his words shining there as evidence of all he’d been brave or brazen enough to speak.

She could feel his passion labored breath fanning across her forehead, tickling her hair. Must it always be this mindless, obsessive, even undeniable command? She sighed as she gave up this battle.

And just as suddenly, she found herself reeling from being set free. The insult of being ejected from his enfolded arms, almost too much for her to process, followed by the quick assault that materialized, the longing for that secure place.

Her wounded glance could not have been stopped or controlled even if she had known she would react that way. Yet he was unmoved.

It took everything in him not to fall at her knees and beg to worship her for the remainder of his life. He longed more than anything to unburden himself and confess his longings even as his loins cried out to bury themselves in her most secret cavities.

Okay, she could deal with this version, the demon. Here was the bastard she had been trying to find so she could exorcise from her nightmares. That she could do.

He sensed the change in her and quirked a curious brow, slanting his mouth into that boyish smirk that she hated to love.

He much preferred this version of her, any vulnerability in her diminished him to ash and stole almost every ounce of control he had to do what must be done to bind her to him.

“Guard yourself well if we are going to take off the gloves and stop pulling punches, “ he warned her warily adjusting his stance to the balls of his feet… all the better to pounce.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew any type of etiquette, Clint. Far be it from me to expect you to follow any rules, “ she remarked casually inspecting her flawless nails to portray a calm superiority she did not feel.

Message received, “What are you about pet, trying to bait me… tisk, risk (he clicked his tongue)… you should know by now that it is wasted effort on me, “ he grinned, crossing his folded arms over his chest… ineffective protection.

“I should know so many things by now where you are concerned. Yet somehow, I still fail consistently.” She mused, spinning to retreat in the opposite direction, giving him a choice view of her back.

“I assure you, I intend to waste no further time or effort on your behalf,” she snapped, glancing over her shoulder as she determinedly moved toward the exit.

He pursued quickly, not willing to end the encounter so vaguely. When his hands touched her shoulders, she said plainly, “ I am leaving. Now, Clint.”

Gathering her meager belongings, she leveled her attention directly at those wicked hazel eyes. “I do not belong here, or with you.”

He released her so abruptly that she stumbled, as if the mere touch of her had branded him.

“Unless you mean to hold me captive, let me pass.” She intoned to his chest, refusing to meet his stunned gaze.

This battle of wits was one for the ages. He’d thought he’d planned this assault better, she’d thought she could fain indifference with the best of them…but any minute he’d break her.

“And goodbye.” She threw back over her shoulder as she swished past him and headed straight for the door.

Visibly deflated, “ Sash, I don’t think I can do this,” he offered a brave smile to cover his shock and uncertainty.

“At least this time I get to see you leave, “ he exhaled “And you did tell me goodbye.” He sadly finished with a wince as he turned his back on her abandonment.

For long moments they stood back to back, neither wanting to concede. Sasha was powerless to open that door, not knowing how final the next closing of it might be. All her strength and bravado evaded her as she knew she stood on the brink of winning or losing some immense war.

Now that she’d found him how could she let him go. Clint found he could let her walk away, but he knew he couldn’t live with the memory of watching it happen; or of the coward he was not to try and stop it. Again.

He was going to be alone with her memory again. Free to love her the way he longed to, but never felt brave enough to reveal. But here in his fantasy, his imagination… she couldn’t prevent him from having his way. He squeezed his eyes shut with a painful intensity, balling his fists to still them.

Her smell permeated every fiber of air his lungs drew, he would have to abandon all… this place would ever be tainted, never purged of her. Every corner now had shadows of living phantoms that would reach out to him constantly that only he could see and never touch.

When she abandoned him this time, he would set this place on fire… he wasn’t really sure at this moment if he’d stay inside for a prime seat at the destruction and c*****e. But he was sure this place would burn.

Clint knew the dark madness would come, he could feel it… welcomed it, even as it swirled in the deepest recess of his dormant mind (waking from slumber to conquer every nuance of his conscious mind). Initially, he had surrendered last time, allowing the madness free rein. He had done things even he wouldn’t care to admit (confess) to, but eventually he had fought for some morsel of control back. He hadn’t been content to surrender all his sweet memories, as had been the price for the all-consuming madness.

Truthfully, it was probably the only reason he had awakened to face the pain of his loss at all, for the simple fact that he couldn’t truly part with her memory or let her go, in any guise.

And damnit, he still wouldn’t.

He spun so swiftly he nearly knocked her down. The hand she raised to shield the contact, tentatively met the steady thump beneath the linen shirt.

Clint stood so still he might have been hewn of stone. Sasha had to concentrate to see the uneven rise and fall of his chest. Unmoving, he stare down into her nest of curls, unkempt as he loved them best… still waiting for the pensive weight of that hand on his breast.

Painfully slow her eyes journeyed to meet his questioning gaze, both afraid of what they might find lying in the depths reflected back.

Surprise dawned in his emerald eyes as he drew a hesitant breath and felt her dewy fingertips touch his pouting lips.

Instinct prompted his tongue to dart out to sample the digits to verify they tasted as good as they smelled.

There would be no words, she signified as she gently shook her head denying whatever statement he had been about to utter on the last eagerly inhaled breath.

Those gingerly kissed fingers touched his cheek, glided over his brow as his eyes fluttered closed… then stopped to anchor at his nape in his fiery chestnut, amber and silver locks. Purposefully slow, Sasha pulled his face down as she rose to meet his kiss… signifying her surrender, as a tear slipped unchecked from the corner of her eye.

Prompted to give gentleness from somewhere foreign to him, he collected an unknown victory… for he himself had surrendered long moments ago unknown to her, as his tears remained concealed in his throat unrevealed because he hadn’t been allowed to speak.

Their tongues mated in the arched doorway between kitchen and hallway, speaking words neither could take back. The oldest dance, the original. In those reverent kisses, they both knew they were far from finished. This was no goodbye. They both understood that there were degrees of love present that neither wanted to acknowledge or own.

Clint understood that Sasha was bound to leave, but powerless to stay gone; while Sasha knew that Clint would never willingly let her go again, this side of heaven or hell. And she didn’t really want him to. They began as they had so long ago, with sacred stolen kisses that belonged only to the other.

They had so much to work through, but not today. Today they would solidify this new fragile bond that they both agreed they wanted and needed.

This was NO goodbye.