Authors: Tillie Cole
I shifted onto my belly
and placed my head next to his, sharing his pillow and staring
straight into those emerald eyes that only hours ago were dulled by
pain. I could see them sparkle when he looked at me, and no
silver-tongued, flowery sentiment could express how he felt about me
more than what I saw in his gaze right then.
He ran his hand through
my long hair, which had fanned out around us both. “I don’t want
to scare you with how strongly I feel, but I need you to know
anyway.”
He searched every part
of my face and ran his thumb over my bottom lip, his thoughts seeming
somewhere else. “We weren’t allowed anything of our own when we
were growing up, you know, possessions, things we wanted. I never had
anything that was truly mine, and anything I treasured my father
would destroy to display his power over us all. All my relationships
in the past have turned to shit, and quite honestly I didn’t even
care to be in them. I thought I would always be alone, it was safer
that way.
“I have always had
this fear that if I loved anything it would be taken away; even as an
adult it seemed like I’d been conditioned to accept that it was
just my lot in life, so I never let myself really feel for anyone or
anything… until you.”
I bit my lip to stop
myself grinning like the Cheshire Cat. This was not the time for a
celebratory Beyoncé booty-pop, but his admission had me fighting the
urge to jump up and sing,
‘oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-
no-no’
. I made do with a little bum-shuffle on the memory foam
mattress instead.
“I am well aware that
most people are intimidated by me and my attitude. I know I come
across abrupt, cold-hearted and moody, and I could care less – in
fact, it’s worked out well. Everyone would keep their distance,
fewer people to get hurt. At least most people stayed clear of me.
You
however,” he laughed and hitched my leg over his; “…
you just spun into my life like a smart-mouthed whirling dervish and
tipped me upside down.
“When I saw you enter
the restaurant, decked out in that tiny dress with all that long,
dark hair and those
fuck-me
red lips, I nearly fell off my
seat. Here comes this stunningly beautiful girl, dancing through the
door, obviously a little drunk, and not giving a shit. It was…
refreshing.”
I buried my head in the
pillow to hide my red face; he grabbed my cheek and made me face him.
“I had heard of you from my sister, who was more than obsessed with
her new British teacher, and when you saw Bee that night I couldn’t
help but laugh out loud at the sheer horror on your face. All my
family dropped their mouths at that. I guess I
had
played the
part of the tortured soul at bit too much over the years, and it
wasn’t something they were used to me doing: laughing.
“Anyway, when you
cussed me out for being rude to you, well,” he rolled on top of me
and kissed the tip of my nose, “… I was lost to you right then.
You were tiny compared to me, but fought back like a pitbull. After
that, our meetings were just a comedy of errors, but through our
twisted little rendezvous I got to know you; and you, me… the
real
me.”
I fluttered my
eyelashes in agreement and brought him down for a kiss. He pulled
back, flushed and breathless. “Quite frankly, I’ve never been one
to care what other people say about me, and I’m pretty sure you
don’t either. If people want to criticise us for getting into this
too quickly, I say fuck them. If we want this, what the hell are we
waiting for? This works for you and me, screw everyone else. Are you
in?”
He seemed a little
worried for a moment before he saw it in my eyes that I couldn’t
agree more. “Aye. I say fuck ‘em too!” I agreed in my strongest
Geordie accent.
He bellowed out a laugh
and moved over me, placing his thick arms over my head and resting
his forehead against mine. With a sigh he said, “I missed you,
gorgeous.”
I put my arms around
his neck. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry my phone was off when you
tried to reach me, but I saw that bloody press release at the airport
and needed to just get away from it all. It kind of destroyed me.”
His eyes were pained.
“Sunshine, please don’t apologise. You had every right; you were
trying to move on. I was too, but it wasn’t working out so well on
my end. I won’t lose you again. I want you forever if you’ll have
me.”
He lowered his hips and
moved himself between my legs, silently asking for my permission to
make love to me. I nodded, and he pushed forward, his head seeking
comfort in the crook of my shoulder and neck, groaning as I arched at
his welcome intrusion.
He reared up clenching
his jaw, breathing harshly through his nostrils. “I have to have
this forever. It feels so right…
God
…” I wrapped my arms
around him tighter and replied, panting, “It will be forever,
babes, I promise. This is one girl that isn’t going anywhere, and
no-one on earth can take me from you. I made you mine, remember?
Plus, I’m a stubborn cow and will kick the shit out of anyone who
tries. These fake nails are not just for show: they’re my
bitch-fighting claws, and I sharpen them regularly!”
He tried to smile but
instead bit his lip at the incredibly intense feeling of us joined
together and picked up the speed of his thrusts. Comforted by my
reassuring words, he reached for my hands, clasping them tightly in
his and rolled us over, placing me on top, tipping us both over the
edge quicker than you can say ‘Holy Orgasms!’
We laid in bed, sated,
my limp body sprawled over his, happy to just be together in the
quietness of the night. His hand moved to my hair and he ran his
fingers through it, unknotting the tatty strands. I felt like
purring. In fact, I think I actually did. I was a thoroughly petted
pussy.
Ahem.
I was dozing off when I
heard, “It was love at first sight for me, you know. Right from the
beginning, I was crazy about you, I realise that now,” he
whispered, so low I almost didn’t catch it.
I lifted my head to his
chest and folded my arms, staring at him with my mouth open. “I-I…
I don’t know what to say,” I said softly, unable to respond any
further.
He shrugged, nervously.
“You asked if I thought about why we were so serious so quickly.
But everything with you was like a whirlwind and kinda bowled me
over. When I saw you at the restaurant, something in me changed, and
I couldn’t breathe. I loved you right then; even if I was being a
stubborn dick about it, I knew deep down it was the truth.”
“You didn’t know
me,” I replied in a hushed tone, still shell-shocked by his
confession.
He focused on me with
sure eyes. “My soul did.”
“Tudor!” I sang
shyly, feeling all mushy inside.
He giggled and kissed
my forehead. “
Chew-da!
” he said, mocking my accent. “I
love how you say my name. I just love everything about you.”
I am now a puddle on
the floor.
“You, Mr. North, are
a whopping big slice of Canadian Cheddar. Who knew you were so
cheesy?”
He frowned and pouted.
“I’m not cheesy. I’m a body builder, ‘The Blade Reaper’. I
can’t be cheesy; I have a reputation to protect,” he sulked.
I tickled his ribs,
making him squirm. “Cheesy, cheesy, cheesy. But I’ll allow it as
it makes me love you more. Hard shell for the world, soft gooey
centre for me – the girl you love. And I promise it’ll be our
little secret, okay? No-one will ever know you’re a soppy baby
bear. You got that, Yogi?”
He restrained my wrists
from the guerilla tickle assault, trying to maintain his moody face,
but I just ignored it and wiggled from side to side on his body in
happiness and sang,
“He loves me, he wants to kiss me, he wants
to hug me…”
He shut me up by kissing me senseless and pulling
me next to him, cuddling me securely in his arms.
Who’d have thought
that we’d ever be here like this? At least the secrets were put to
bed – literally – and now I knew the truth, it shed some light on
some of Tudor’s strange past behaviour.
That was it! It
suddenly makes sense!
I drew back to face
him, realisation dawning. “All of this, your past, your dad,
everything, is why you acted all weird when Gage said to call him if
we didn’t work out, isn’t it?”
He swallowed cautiously
and nodded his head once in confirmation. “I’d just got you,
eventually, after I never thought I would. I was already stressing
about losing you. When…
Gage
.”
I shook my head in
disbelief at how he couldn’t say his name without gritting his
teeth. He glared back, clenching his jaw. “Hey, I’m still a
stubborn, possessive ass,
that
won’t change, and
he
likes you which means I. Don’t. Like. Him.”
“Tudor!”
He shrugged
unapologetically. “When he told you he’d be waiting for you if we
broke up, all these insecurities came back to smack me in the face,
and all I could picture was the wannabe-hippy wanker taking you away
from me. I have never been allowed to have anything I truly loved,
Sunshine, and I loved you even then, whether you believe me or not. I
freaked. Not to sound weirdly obsessive, but you’re mine and I
don’t intend to let you go. I’m going to work on my issues, maybe
talk to someone or just talk to you for now, but no more secrets, I
promise. I just want to be with you more than anything in the world,
and now you have me and I have you, I won’t let anything break us
ever again.”
I placed my palm on his
rough and swollen cheek. “I thought you couldn’t get emotionally
attached to women, Mister? You seem to be doing better at that with
me – I feel like you may spout poetry at any second!”
Tudor squeezed my knee
until I was squirming and giggling, but he quite quickly lost the
humour. “Tash, the women I slept with before were just toys. I know
that sounds harsh, but they may as well have been blow-up dolls. I
felt nothing for them, and most of the time I was beyond drunk. I had
to be to face being intimate with them.”
“Then why…”
He sighed sadly. “It
was an outlet, a way to forget everything. I was stupid. If you have
never been close to anyone emotionally, and feared it would only end
in misery if you did, then you crave it. Sex kind of appeased my lack
of close relationships for a while. I see now that it was foolish.
The women only wanted me for Tudor North the actor, not Tudor North
the man afraid to fall in love.”
My heart cried for him.
He stared at me in
complete adoration. “With you though it’s completely shattering.
Making love to you, being with you… it feels like home to me. I am
so happy you are mine. You’re my love, the balm to my fucked up
past.”
I smiled against his
neck and sighed in contentment. “I am yours, Tude, of that there
has never been doubt. Now, let’s get to sleep, today has been…”
I trailed off, not knowing the words.
He squeezed me into his
warm embrace, shuffling to get us in a comfortable position, “Night,
gorgeous. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” and I drifted
off to sleep in the arms of the most perfect man on the planet.
I woke in the early
morning in the same position we had gone to sleep: wrapped securely
in Tudor’s embrace and my right arm completely dead. I moved to lie
on my back to relieve my numb limb, which was wedged in a
blood-stopping sandwich between Tudor’s two-ton bicep and chest,
when I suddenly felt woollen material on my pillow beside me. I
glanced down, and lying over my left shoulder was his scarf, the
scarf from ‘Skater-gate’ – my treasured makeshift pillow. It
was back where it belonged: with me, in bed, on my pillow.
I gazed down at my
hulking, tattooed bad-boy and smiled. He must have put it there
during the night. I leaned forwards, kissing Tudor’s slightly
parted lips. Almost automatically, he lifted his shoulders off the
mattress, and his hand wrapped around the nape of my neck as he drew
me against him further. Thoroughly pleased, I gently pushed him down
as his eyes squinted, fighting the pull of sleep. “Sunshine?
What–?” he croaked.
“
Shh
… go
back to sleep, babes,” I cooed, running my finger gently along his
face.
He laid back down as
instructed, pulling me over him, leaving me sprawled across his
sculpted bare chest. I grazed a kiss over his heart, closed my eyes
and giggled.
I was in love with a
big, muscled slice of Canadian Cheddar cheese and it felt freakin’
amazing!
"Tink! Hurry up,
man!" I bellowed as I thumped on his door for the umpteenth
time. It swung open with force, and I cracked a smirk at Tink’s
outfit.
"Don't start!"
he warned as he brushed past me, grimacing as he saw his reflection
in the full-length mirror.
"I didn't say
anything, did I?" I replied, holding back the spurt of laughter
that was creeping its way up my throat.
'The Incident', as it
was now known, was a few days behind us, and Boleyn had been released
from hospital earlier that day, so we were headed for our first
'family' dinner at the Norths’ as a welcome-home gesture.
The local press had
gotten wind of the incident and had reported that a domestic dispute
had occurred in the well-to-do area, but thanks to a well-paid
publicist, an even better-paid lawyer and a seven-foot perimeter
fence, the neighbours and, well, the world had no idea of Tudor's
involvement.
There would be a trial,
of course, and Tudor had already decided that when that day arrived
he would release a statement explaining his personal involvement,
alongside a substantial donation to a local women’s charity. The
silver lining in this whole affair was that perhaps his candid
openness would help other people in similar situations by raising
awareness of domestic abuse.